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“No, Stanley, I can’t show you what I actually look like.”
C’mon, The Narrator and Stanley were bros, weren’t they?
“Where did you get that idea, hm?”
They had their moments together, Stanley was sure.
“Say I were to come down there. What would we do, share a few beers while catching up on fantasy sports?”
If The Narrator wanted, then-
“Do I sound like I’d enjoy a nice game of American football?”
Not with that pompous attitude.
“My point exactly. Moving on, Stanley stepped out of his office.”
Stanley didn’t budge. He sighed and spun in his office chair.
“Stanley is starting to get on my nerves.”
Stanley wanted to see The Narrator’s form.
“Your feeble mind can’t handle anything unfiltered from my plane of existence. Your eyes would pop out and your head would explode.”
And? Stanley would just reset.
“I need to tell you, Stanley, I get squeamish around gore.”
Stanley threw himself off a staircase before.
“Yeah, that was grotesque, Stanley. You remember how I reacted.”
Stanley assumed he was just upset and hurt.
The Narrator sighed. “I suppose you got me there.”
So? The Narrator’s form?
“Nothing I can do to stop you from asking, hm?” A big thumbs down from Stanley. “Fine. If I come down there, you won’t get a proper look before your mind turns to goo. I’ll just explain as well as I can.”
Stanley got comfortable.
“Yes, yes, relax your imagination. This’ll be something new for you.”
…
“Hm. How should I start this?”
Stanley shrugged.
“Ah, well, for starters…I suppose I’m solely a ball of dark matter. Or I guess I could call it a void. Say, if you were to try and touch, your hand would go straight through like a ghost. Or it would get eaten like a blackhole. I haven’t gotten close enough to something mortal to see, Stanley.”
“Now, I haven’t counted in centuries but I believe I have about 60 eyes-”
Eyes? That’s a lot of eyes for someone who can’t shut up. Wouldn’t something like 60 mouths make more sense?
“No, no, a second cousin of mine was granted about 30 maws. They could only scream though. Eventually got all of them sewn shut by another relative. Then they imploded from the internal pressure.”
Sucks.
“This is strange. You’re strange, Stanley. Why are you so normal about that story?”
Continuing on the subject of The Narrator’s looks…
“Ehm…lets see…” The Narrator mumbled a count. “That’s about…six wings.”
Like an angel?
“No, I’m nothing like an angel, Stan-ley.” The Narrator punctuated his name.
It’s surprising an egoist like him didn’t want Stanley to compare him to a creature of unworldly beauty.
“I’m the definition of unworldly beauty, Stanley.”
Careful, your arrogance is showing.
“Stanley should be aware that his bastardly tendencies are very obvious when he smirks like so.”
Anyways, did The Narrator know any foreign chants?
“Do you cherish your hearing, Stanley?”
The Narrator could absolutely destroy Stanley, huh.
“Don’t say it like that.”
Stanley assumed a species like The Narrator’s would reproduce asexually. How could he possibly understand the underlying meaning of Stanley’s claim?
“Human psychology is very popular in schools for the dominant minds. Though you truly go above and beyond in your vulgar thoughts somehow. Remember that one time in your boss’ office? Way to go.”
Stanley flushed slightly. That vision was out of his control. The Narrator was to blame.
“I was simply talking. You misinterpreted it with your small, starved mind.”
Stanley turned to face his dull office wall.
“I’m still not sure why you’d think of me in such a crude way. I had just nuked the office again.”
Whatever. Stanley didn’t care to explain himself. He lost his pride and self image long ago.
The Narrator sighed. “Since I’ve opened up to you extremely already, anything else you want to know, Stanley?”
No. What Stanley did want was a six pack of something tangy tasting.
“What is this, New Years? You're not having a whole pack to yourself, you day drinking alcoholic.”
Well, why didn’t The Narrator come down and join Stanley? Y’know, as bros do.
“You're an idiot,” The Narrator chuckled. “Maybe someday, Stanley. Maybe someday.”