Chapter Text
The sound of a pen on paper glided through the quietness. Things were being brought to life. An office building, the supplies inside, everything. It had to be perfect.
The lighting. The ambience. The fluorescent lights humming above. False remnants of humans once residing in the office building.
The layout. The choices. The lore was the longest part. To secretly make this a mind control facility. To get the protagonist to dig deeper.
His protagonist had to be perfect! Following his story, guided by his words. It took him so long to perfect everything even down to how the carpet would feel. All the different endings, choices, and failures.
The final touches were everything about his protagonist. It had to be.. perfect. First, the number. He didn’t want it to be too high, or too low. So 400-700. He also didnt want it obvious, or an often used number such as 404, 777, and others. It had to be random. Had to have no value except to him and his creation.
He went through every single number. Saying it in his script. “Employee 402. Employee 403.”
But none had a ring like “427.” Three separate numbers. Four, two, seven. It could not be said as four hundred and twenty seven. It had to be four-two-seven. It was perfect.
Next, his office. Plain, simple, but a room all to himself. The perfect space to reside in for the perfect employee. A corner desk, clean and neat. Files behind him, and a perfect computer and chair just for him.
Next, his backstory.. right. Perhaps he should leave that blank, just letting the person figure it out as they wished. Letting them be their own person.
That was the whole point of this game. To let this creation follow his story and become what he wants. Or she. He hasn’t decided yet, but he thinks a “he” would work quite well for this!
Finally, names. He repeated them over and over to himself. It had to sound right. “Jim.” He said flatly. “Jim.” He said with more emphasis on J. He said it in all the ways he could think of.
It wasn’t it. Jim was too… flat for his liking. He shuffled through some papers.
“Stanley.” It rang perfectly in his head. He could say it with so much tone from excitement to disdain if needed. It was the perfect name.
He cracked his fingers and ran a test. His microphone, a quick walk through of the entire office building, the placements, anything. Perfect.
He closed his eyes. Script in hand.. He breathed in and imagined a scene play out.
“This is the story of a man named Stanley..”
A whirr of energy rushed through himself and the very essence of everything he had made. As he spoke his script, he could feel life being made. Created. When he was done with the first part, he looked at the office room of 427.
A man was there, blinking. He existed.
“All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?” He said, maybe too excited. He wanted to see what this man would do.
Stanley got up and looked around, perplexed. He truly embodied exactly what he would think a ‘stanley’ would look like. Brown hair, slightly fluffy but still semi-neat. A nice plain button up shirt with office acceptable jeans and comfortable shoes.
So very ordinary, and yet so Stanley.
He went through his script as Stanley went to the doors. Of course, he followed the voice’s instructions perfectly. Following the story. He took the left door, saw the meeting room, continued on..
Oh, his reactions were delightful as he figured things out. To him, he had pushed buttons all of his life and things were rapidly changing! Progressing! Oh, the plot!
Mind Control Facility was next. Stanley looked so amazed but fearful as the massive amount of screens changed to all of the rooms. Such a huge room, making Stanley look meerly like nothing at all!
He was so excited as Stanley approached two buttons. On, and off. The final button he would push in this run. A sentiment- how he pushed buttons all of his life and how this final one would dictate his life. His freedom.
Stanley pressed off and the drymatic reveal of the outside came to view as he narrated it all perfectly. The sunlight. Stanley approaching freedom. He stepped into the grass and..
..Loading.
Stanley woke back up in the office. “All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?”
He was frozen for a moment. He tried to process what had just happened. Did he not obtain freedom? Why was he right back here?
Stanley followed the voice again. And again he approached the two buttons. Again, he pushed off.
Again he was in his office.
Stanley listened again and again but nothing changed. He wasn’t free. He never stayed in freedom. He always came back to that desk.
After the fifth time Stanley pressed on.
Oh, that changed drastically. Suddenly the voice was mocking him, saying things like ‘did you think you could control this?’ Yadda yadda. No.. he didn’t. He just knew pressing off would do nothing.
In the end, he blew up this time.
When he opened his eyes, he was back in the office. Stanley got up before the narrator spoke and rushed to the two doors but they slammed in his face.
He got lectured for ‘rushing the story’ and ‘how do you know where to go?’ And stuff. This voice was so belitting of every action he didn’t like.
Stanley took the right door. He did the opposite of everything the voice told him to do. Oh, how the voice was so mad.
Reset after reset Stanley didn’t do at the voice said. He went off on his own paths. Stanley thought it was amusing how polar opposite they were. He had a body, no voice whereas the voice had, well, a voice and probably no body.
“You know, Stanley, I don’t know why you don’t just listen to me!” The voice said, exasperated.
Up until this point Stanley hadn’t bothered to try to communicate to the voice. He sighed out of his nose. ‘Well if it actually led to something I’d do it.’ He thought to himself.
“Oh, Stanley. All endings lead back to the office.”
Wait. He could hear his thoughts?
“But of course! You think quite a lot.” The voice chimed with a happy tune. Almost proud of himself.
Stanley wondered then, why try? If everything led back to that office, why not just stay in it?
“For the adventure! What else is out there? Perhaps space? What else could be hiding! Another ending? Another story? Don’t you want to know more?”
He did.. but was there a point? What was the point?
“To tell a story! Stanley, weren’t you just listening to me? The whole point of this is to tell a story! About you! This whole thing is about you!”
Is it, though?
He stayed in his office. He refused to leave. This annoyed the voice deeply.
Stanley pushed the buttons on his work computer. It did feel nice. No wonder he probably enjoyed the job he once did before.. this.
Actually, he couldn’t recall it. He couldn’t remember what his boss looked like, or his coworkers. What the sun felt like or anything else outside of this office.
The layout didn’t make sense logically either. Why did his office floor lead to two doors like that? And there was no elevator or stairs that led to an “exit” as far as he has found yet. Office layouts were basic and easy to find windows to the outside or an elevator down to the first floor.. stuff like that.
“Are you done yet, Stanley? The story is still waiting, waiting for you!”
Stanley looked up to the ceiling where he thought the voice watched him from. He used his hands and started to move them. And for the first time he tried to talk to this thing.
[Do you have a name?]
“What?” The voice was taken aback a bit. “That is unimportant information!”
Stanley pouted, but he was glad this voice knew sign language.
[I can’t keep calling you voice.]
“I do not need a name.”
[Why?]
“This is your story, Stanley. Not mine.”
[But you’re apart of it too. I’ll call you Stinky then.]
“Absolutely not! Fine, Stanley. You win. You may address me as ‘Narrator’ and Narrator only! Understood?”
Stanley nodded. It did suit him. He pushed off his desk and walked to the doors and went through the left one, as a reward for the Narrator or something.
Narrator was audibly sighing and saying his lines in an annoyed way. Why did Stanley need to name him? Was that so important to the story? Well, it was Stanley’s story— but he made it! He made him!
But, he did have a point. Narrator was apart of Stanley’s story.. he never thought about that factor. Despite all of his planning he still didn’t think of human variables.
He also didn’t realize how odd humans were. After twenty or so resets Stanley became visibly sluggish.
“Stanley came to a set of two.. Stanley?”
Stanley was swaying a bit, his eyes droopy.
“Stanley, what’s wrong?” Did he miss something? Too little air? Was the temperature wrong?
[Tired.] Stanley signed.
Oh. Oh right. Humans often.. ‘powered down’ to recharge. He.. did not think about that.
He cleared his throat. “Stanley entered the door on his.. right.”
That woke him up a bit. He looked a little confused but followed along.
“As he walked to the amazing meeting room, Stanley thought to himself ‘i deserve a power nap! I have been working so hard and tirelessly for the boss, and it is break time.’” Narrator gave a dull excuse.
Stanley entered the meeting room and curled up on one of the couches. It was bizarre seeing him not move except breathe. “Stanley?” Nothing.
Narrator did some research on human sleeping. “Eight hours!?” He almost hissed to himself.
At first he hated this idea. But after a while.. it struck him. This was perfect downtime to fix any small errors or make new endings! Yes, Stanley would love it! Oh, this was perfect actually.
Narrator changed something around the bosses office he was sure Stanley would enjoy seeing!
When Stanley woke up he was greeted with mumbling. At first his brain couldn’t process the words, but after he rubbed his eyes it formed into sentences.
“No.. no.” The voice was being quiet, but also mumbling. “He wouldn’t like that. Would he? This- here. Ah..” Narrator was talking to himself.
Stanley sat up and looked around. The.. lounge. It looked different. Cozier in ways he couldn’t describe. Stanley rolled his eyes when the Narrator hadn’t realized he was awake yet. He waved his arms.
“Oh! Oh, hello Stanley!”
It was odd. The voice and ‘presence’ if it could be that, felt semi far away. But now it felt omnipresent in the room. Well it didn’t ‘feel’ it was more like a ‘sense’.
Stanley waved awkwardly to the ceiling.
“You know I was a bit perturbed at this whole sleep thing at first. Eight hours to do nothing? You could learn a whole language in that time in a few days if you tried! But then I realized you being asleep was perfect for me to work on new things, new endings!”
Stanley gave the ceiling a semi confused but excited expression.
“Oh, yes. I noticed how bored you got so fast. I’ll never understand that- so I made something new!”
Stanley got up, ready to see this said thing. “Come this way Stanley!”
… it was a bathroom.
“Not just a bathroom. The bosses bathroom! So elegant and pristine! Look at the shiny tiles, the artwork! Isn’t it amazing Stanley?”
Stanley sighed and sat on the toilet. He crossed his arms and pouted.
“What? You don’t like it? This took me eight hours!”
[I’d rather a new ending..]
“That would take me a few days at the most! These stories and their adventure must be perfect and make sense, don’t you think?”
Stanley sighed. ‘Narrator really prides his work.. a bit too much.’ He’d hate to say ‘well, I do like the new bathroom, but it entertained me for 15 minutes maxium. What shall I do for the next multiple hours?’ Or something like that..
“Humans are so hard to entertain!”
Ah. Narrator heard that..
“Stanley I hear all of your thoughts.”
[Privacy?]
“I do have respect, yes. I can easily stop listening at any point and often I do, but I just can’t.. understand you. I try to listen but it explains nothing! You’re an enigma to me, Stanley.”
[Whatever.] Stanley got up off the toilet and did the freedom ending. This time though he stood just in front of the grass, right where the concrete ended.
“Go on Stanley, freedom is just right there!” Narrator urged.
He just stood and stared at the beauty of the outside. Or, he hoped it was.
“Why don’t you go? Feel the sun—“ Narrator was cut off when Stanley very much thought annoyedly at him.
Can you not let me relax for one second? The moment I take five steps into the ‘outside’ you reset me back to the office. I’m trying to enjoy it from right here.
“Well, no need to get sassy. Fine. I promise you you can take more than five steps this time. Enjoy the grass, but I warn you about 20 steps in it will automatically send you back. Take your time.”
Stanley actually.. relaxed. And he seemed happy, but nervous. He walked in, counting his steps. At 15 he sat on the grass and basked in the artificial sun.
“Is.. there a reason you like this?” Narrator just couldn’t understand.
[All I see is the indoor office building. This is the only ‘outside’ i've seen.] Stanley signed. He was touching the grass now, unable to speak.
“I.. suppose. Hm. Would you like more color to the office?”
Stanley nodded a bit and laid down.
“That’s highly unsanitary! You’ll get dirty!”
[you always complain about everything i do] Stanley signed awkwardly from laying down. [i’m resetting soon anyway, whats the issue?]
“I— you… well.” Narrator sighed. “Isn’t it.. gross? Icky?? I read grass can make you itch and stick to you—“
[Read? Have you touched grass, Narrator?] Stanley smirked a bit, presumably at a joke Narrator failed to understand.
“No, I have no need to. Why would I? I made everything for you, not for me.”
Stanley stared at the blue sky in deep thought. ‘He made everything? For me? Am I really that special, that a god like being would.. put me in hell?’
“Hell?” Narrator said, both offended and hurt. “What do you mean?”
Stanley splayed his arms and legs out in a starfish shape. He closed his eyes but his thoughts raged on.
Over and over and over. Isn’t it boring?
“Not at all!” Narrator said. “We all read books over and over, knowing the outcome. Movies over and over. We see the details we missed, enjoy the adventure again.”
Stanley’s finger tip touched that invisible barrier, and he was back in the office again.
They went though ending after ending. Stanley would listen sometimes, almost randomly. It was always a guessing game for narrator.
Stanley would do the opposite of what he was saying over and over during one ending and suddenly listen again.
He was getting fed up.
And that eventually led to one of the worst endings.
Stanley was going to get crushed. He could see his doom up ahead. Slam. Closer. Slam. He grew closer and closer to death. The narrator just kept rambling on and on about his mistakes. Stanley was crying and it seemed Narrator was too pissed to care!
“If only you listened to me, you would have never been in this situation!”
And to the narrator that was it. Stanley was crushed and he reset.
But when Stanley got up he looked totally different. He listened. Over and over.
They did the freedom ending 15 times without one misstep from Stanley.
He didn’t even try to relax in the grass.
During the sixteenth time, Narrator spoke up. “Stanley, are you alright?”
Stanley glared ahead. Ah, still in there. “Aren’t you curious about other options?”
[Why would I be when you get irritated at everything I do that you hate?]
“I—“ He didn’t get one word in as Stanley angrily thought to him.
You told me yourself. You want me to listen to you. So i have. Over and over. You told me you wouldn't get bored of reading the same book over and over. So, lets do the freedom ending again.
Oh.. Narrator had really messed up. “Stanley, listen, I—“
But Stanley walked out of his office. He didn’t say his script. “We don’t have to do that ending— its just a—“
Stanley was walking through the left door. “Stanley! Stop and listen to me. You don’t always read the same book over and over the moment you stop reading it. You move onto another one..”
Stanley just kept walking.
Out of sheer desperation, Narrator quickly made a new ending. Hastily made, as he only had less than 3 minutes before Stanley got there.
“.. I just always guide and elude to the freedom ending. Think of it like a default. You dictate where the story goes, no matter my feelings on the matter. Would you rather me happy agree “oh, i love that stanley doesn't listen to me!”.” Narrator spoke with a smile though.
He could feel Stanley’s emotions. Forgiving. “Even if I seem to.. get frustrated I do enjoy it. Remember, I made everything. If I wanted you to always do the freedom ending I wouldn’t give you other choises. Okay?”
Stanley stared at the bosses doors. He looked up.
“I.. before you got here I quickly made a new ending. Turn around and enjoy okay?”
Stanley nodded. He went back the way he came, down the stairs and back to his office.
“This was quickly made so I am sorry if it is boring or has errors—“
Stanley didn’t mind.
“Sorry I’ll be quiet. Enjoy for now.”
He saw the door right beside his office was open.. and he walked up so many flights of stairs. It was exhausting. He really reused assets to make this last longer huh? And then it was dark. Stanley gulped as he kept walking in pure black.
He saw something up ahead, a light.
An escape pod. Red inside, and oh so quiet. In the void, he knew this was not a real escape. Just probably an escape from the Narrator. He could hardly feel his presence. This was probably somewhere Stanley could go to be far away from the narrator if he so pleased.
Stanley got into the pod.. and he was back in his office.
The clock ticking was so loud. After a few seconds, Narrator piped up.
“Uhm, I know that wasn’t a thrilling adventure, but I hoped you liked it!”
[It.. was something. Why?]
“Why.. what? Its an escape ending! Well, from me. An escape from this office layout. From me. From the parable. Far, far away.”
Did.. he sound lonely?
[I don’t know anything about you. Can you tell me something?]
“Wh— why do you want to learn about me? Hm. I suppose.. I like the color yellow.”
Yellow. Stanley nodded. He crossed his arms on his desk and rested his head. Soon, he fell asleep once more.
-
When Stanly woke up, he noticed a few things. One, it was quiet and he could hardly feel Narrator. Two, he had new items.
Firstly, he had pens and post it notes as well as paper clips and printer paper. Stanley looked out of the doorway and saw more objects. Mugs on tables with words he couldn’t read from here. Just.. more color. More life.
[Narrator?] He signed to the ceiling. Quiet.. but not silent.
Then a noise. A mumble. Sleepy and tired sounding.
Was.. was the Narrator asleep?
Stanley kept quiet and busied himself with drawing on the paper he got. He was sure if he left the office it would trigger the Narrator to wake up, like an alarm.
On the paper he wrote ‘Facts About Narrator’ and wrote
-Lonely
-Likes Yellow
-Made this place just for me
Stanley tapped the pen against his lips. He truly didn't know much.. he’d get that information.
On a post it note, he wrote: “Narry if you see this, say Noodles!’ He then stuck it under his desk.
It was a test. How was Narrator seeing him? Was it through a camera, or the ceiling? What about through his eyes or just all around?
Stanley scribbled and drew more sticky notes until he heard a sleepy hum.
“Hmm..” Narrator seemed to notice Stanley’s alertness. “Ah! Stanley. Glad to see you’re awake. Oh! You have been a while. My apologies.. I got very deep into what I have in store for you! As you requested, I have added more color to the office. I also added two new endings but there's a catch!”
Stanley tilted his head, curious. “The endings I made I can’t guide you to. They are only for you to find yourself, no guidance from me!”
Oh, how interesting. He got up and explored the ‘new and improved’ office building. He saw all the tiny details like some mugs having coffee stains or some papers being crumpled. Minute, almost useless details that just brought things to life.
“Oh and Stanley? Noodles.”
Stanley froze, then chuckled silently. Of course.
“May I ask why ‘noodles’ was your word of choice?”
Stanley shrugged. He then signed. [It had to be a random word you’d never say unprompted.]
“Ah; smart thinking. I like that.”
Oh, a compliment. That went right to Stanley’s heart. He blushed a bit and fidgeted with his hands.
Right. Yeah. Hm..
“Stanley why are you so.. anxious all of the sudden?”
Huh? Oh.
[I’m not used to compliments. At work I was.. unseen.]
“Oh… interesting.” The narrator hummed. Stanley truly believed he existed before this office? He seemed to have false memories of some kind. Perhaps he should test this out more.
“I’m working on a new ending where I can guide you to it. Give me some time to finish it out, alright?”
Stanley nodded and was searching. He tried to open doors that were always locked and looked through the rare windows he saw but nothing. He had to find what the narrator made!
And eventually he did. It was a .. boring game. A baby walking towards fire. He pressed the button for four hours. He knew he made this game to ‘entertain him’ longer.
Stanley complained the game was too boring.
Narrator got really offended. “Fine, if you don’t like my game lets play something else.”
And then he was in a firetower. In the woods. Everywhere he looked was open air, trees, birds, life. Freedom.
Stanley was happy. Excited even. He got up and went down the steps quickly and touched the grass with a smile.
“What you- like this game?” Stanley nodded. “You’d want it over mine, that I worked so hard for? For you?”
[Only for now. Humans like new things. We are curious.]
“I.. I will… think about that. Don’t go too far, Stanley. I don’t know how dangerous it is out there—“
Stanley only took 30 steps before a massive brick wall stopped him. He frowned. Narrator doesn’t let him do anything.
“No, no no. Its an open world game! How vile. No.. directions to follow. Stanley, you need me to guide you! This game wont—“
[Please? I’ll play your game still, but I want to explore this.]
“.. fine. Fine. Whatever. Enjoy somebody else's game.”
Narrator shut up and the walls vanished.
Stanley began to explore. It was beautiful. Butterflies, soft wispy grasses, birds and wildlife always there instead of clocks and buzzing. It even smelled real. Time past so fast.
and.. he got lost. The sun set and the game became terrifying. Stanley sat under a tree and hugged himself hearing all the horrible night noises. It was so dark.. and he felt so alone.
He suddenly noticed some light and lifted his head to see a camp fire two feet away from him, burning quietly. Stanley wiped his eyes and moved closer to it. He fidgeted again and signed.
[I’m sorry.]
“Oh, Stanley.. Listen. I have a feeling we will.. be doing this a lot. Bickering and annoying one another. I don’t understand humans and as I learn I seem to know less. From what I do know.. you are a curious bunch. So of course you’d want to explore this game, hm?”
Stanley nodded softly and picked at a twig.
[Even if you started me in this game like the Parable, then showed me the office going ‘oh i bet youd like this game over my outside one!’ Id pick the office..] Stanley signed for a while.
“But of course! I read up a bit more on humans and learned being in one place or setting for a long time with little change can upset you guys without stimulus. I’ll try to do better, but I’ll need you to help me help you too, you know?”
Stanley nodded and picked up a rock. He put it in his pocket.
[Can we leave? But.. can I visit this place sometimes?]
“Of course, Stanley.”
Stanley sighed softly when he saw his computer screen. He leaned into the chair and took out the rock from his pocket. He smiled softly, knowing the Narrator let him keep it. He placed it on his desk.
Stanley did the freedom ending for him but went back to being ‘rebellious’.. for now.
-
Each time Stanley slept, new things happened. Small changes, improvements, endings, or something else. From when he first started, this place was almost entirely different.
More paintings on the walls of the outside, more windows for artificial light, more details. Stanley kept track of all the changes that he could notice. All the endings, too.
He learned a lot about the narrator by asking him questions. He could only get one straight answer every once and a while so he expertly documented what he knew.
Narrator loved tea, all kinds. Cold on hot days and hot on cold days. He had a favorite insulated mug. He disliked coffee but loved the smell. Narrator insisted he ‘didnt sleep’ but Stanley had caught him a few times, but never said anything.
He learned Narrator spent a very, very long time crafting everything out to be perfect for Stanley. A very long time.
Stanley knew Narrator was lonely. He’d never admit it, but he knew. He and Narrator fought a lot but Stanley knew in his heart they needed one another.
“Stanley, I’ve been thinking.. you always sleep on couches or your desk. Would you like a proper bed?”
Stanley nodded.
“I.. see. Remember I mentioned an ending a long time ago? I..” Narrator trailed off. “Right. Hm. Never mind.”
He was being.. weird.
“If you go to the lounge and press ‘7437’ on the vending machine, it will open up to a new room. Its an average bedroom size but I will allow this room and this room only to be yours to decorate. If you ask, you shall receive. Okay?”
Stanley ran to that room. And it opened up to a blank room. But he could design it. Oh, oh! He was flapping his hands excitedly.
“S-stanley? What is that? What are you doing?”
Huh? He paused.
[Narrator you.. don’t know?]
“Not a clue. I’m sorry. Is it a human response?”
[it’s… stimming. I’m stimming.] Stanley signed quietly. He went quiet. How did Narrator not know? Didn’t he make Stanley the way he was?
But that also didn’t make sense. If he made Stanley wouldn’t he want him to be ‘ideal’? And he didn’t know about humans, as he said often.
“Stimming.. stimming..” Narrator hummed as Stanley heard him flipping through papers.
“Ah! Oh; I see! Hm.. okay!”
Stanley looked around the room and put his hands on his hips.
[So I get to control this room?]
“Yes! Just think about something, and it will appear. Only in this room. And nothing can leave the room but you.”
Stanley imagined yellow wallpaper with some patterning. He thought of the biggest, softest, most comfortable bed with a matching blue blanket. Stanley imagined a fun rainbow rug with a bedside stand. When he opened his eyes, his room was exactly that.
He insistently sat on the bed and audibly groaned as he sunk into it.
“That's quite bare. Would you like some ideas?”
Stanley nodded.
“A chair, oh, a standing lamp! Perhaps a wardrobe with clothes? I can allow clothes to leave the room. A water cooler too!”
Stanley snorted. A water cooler? Why not a fridge?
“Well.. you don’t need to eat. Why would you?”
[To taste.]
Oh, he could feel Narrators confusion.
Stanley imagined those suggestions and really liked his room. He knew if he stayed in here “too long” or “too often” Narrator would get upset.. but he could indulge for now.
He thought of a fridge and microwave which filled just about the rest of the room. Stanley pulled out.. popcorn. He put it in the microwave and started it.
He sat on the chair and kicked his legs a bit.
[Why don’t you decide what goes in my wardrobe? I have no ideas.]
“M-me?”
[Who else am I talking to?]
“Right; right. Yes. Okay. Hm..” He could hear the wardrobe shuffling around as Narrator went through hundreds of clothes to find “the perfect ones”.
“How about a look-see?”
Stanley got up and opened it. Least he had options now! He unbuttoned his shirt and hung it neatly, then put on a blue one Narrator picked out for him. He spun around.
How do I look?
“Amazing.” Narrator slightly mumbled. “Uhm, nice. Yes. Professional. Is the popcorn exploding?”
By then, the popcorn was popping loudly and constantly. It then beeped and he pulled it out.
“Stanley! Its smoking!”
Stanley opened it up and popped a few into his mouth. He purred at the buttery taste and crunchy soft texture.
“Oh.. hm. Is that it?”
Stanley took one out and held it up to the ceiling. Popcorn.
Can you even taste?
“O-of course I can! But eating isn’t necessary.”
But why not try it?
Stanley was trying to prompt Narrator to proving he wasn’t just some.. godly voice. That he was something.
“I see.. you want me to try popcorn?”
Stanley nodded excitedly and ate some more.
“It does smell nice. Set some down on the table.”
He didn’t understand, but obliged. The popcorn was then just, gone. Soon; he heard Narrator humming. Examining a piece. “Its soft, but pliable. Crunchy but spongy.”
Then he heard him eat it.
He had to have a body, right?
“Oh! I.. like this. Thank you, Stanley. This was a new adventure for me.”
Stanley liked that. This wasn’t just a story about Stanley. It was about Stanley and Narrator.