Chapter Text
The narrator is rambling on again, all because Stanley was in the broom closet, Stanley is wishing he went for the skip ending just to shut him up but he can’t help but enjoy listening to the narrators rambles. Finding his voice more comforting, if anything.
But as most rambles from the narrator contain, the insults.
“You’re such a child Stanley, I might as-well put you on a leash. You’re such a brat. I don’t even know how you got this job, it’s clear your to incompetent to take anything seriously…”
Stanley listened to him drone on about how incompetent and ugly and stupid and blah blah blah. ‘What a chatter box. Might as-well go somewhere more comfortable.’ He thought, before leaving the broom closet and made his way to the employee lounge.
Of course the narrator kept talking not when realizing Stanley had left the broom closet until he looked back at the monitors and saw he was in the lounge.
“Stanley! What in the world are you doing? I thought I told you we need to do the story! Why do you always insist on being a brat?!”
Stanley sighed, he was sitting on a couch in the lounge.
[I don’t know, it’s boring?]
He signed. The narrator scoffed
“Boring? Boring?! I put my heart and soul into this game and you call it boring?!?”
[It’s all the same, nothing new ever. I’ve done every ending! There is nothing more to do!]
“You have no idea how much time I spent on this game! What in the world could entertain you? Cause it seems like you little minded baboon needs something new to do ever 10 seconds before you get bored!”
The narrator spat through his microphone.
“ID BE BETTER OFF DELETING YOU FROM THE GAME. START OVER.”
Stanley heard some ruckus of papers being thrown off desks, and the sound of the narrator yelling and mumbling to himself about Stanley, away from his mic.
Stanley sighed and laid on the couch, putting a pillow over his face in hopes to quiet the yelling. As comforting the narrator’s voice was, he didn’t enjoy being insulted constantly. ‘Why can’t he just be nice to me for like 5 minutes. Stupid little son of a-‘
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash from the narrator mic, making him jump up to his feet, still clutching the pillow. The narrator cursed in a muffle glitching distance voice
“Sta-e-? Ca- yyyo-ou h-h-hear m-e?” The narrator glitched, Stanley nodded, he looked into a camera nearby. He dropped the pillow
[Whats happening? Are you alright?]
He signed franticly. Followed by nothing, not even a glitching voice. But a beeping from outside the lounge grabbed Stanleys attention. Stanley ran to it, a computer.
The computer had text being typed into it:
Stanley. I have broken my microphone. This will take a long time to fix. I can see and hear you still but I cannot speak. You’ll have to refrain from the broom closet and the lounge because I cannot communicate with you in those places.
-Narrator.
‘Great. Silence.’ Stanley hated silence. Even the ear numbing drone of the narrators voice was better than this. Stanley kicked over a trash-bin. Signing curses and complaining about the fact he would be surrounded by silence for so long. In hopes he would at least still be able to irritate the narrator. But he was left in silence.
_________________________
Hours, maybe even a day pasted. Stanley had found himself laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. A beeping indicating him that another message had been typed out by the narrator, but Stanley wasn’t budging. He was enjoying the deafening sound of the beeping, for it kept the room with some noise.
Eventually his ears started to ring from the noise so he sat up and crawled over to the computer. To stopping the beeping as he read it.
It typed out :
Stanley, if you hear the beeping please read the computer. Me fixing my microphone will do no good when you’re deaf. Now that I have your attention I have some news. I might have a temporary fix to the communication issue. I will be down about 20 minutes after this typing finishes.
-Narrator
‘Wait
WHAT’
The narrator was coming down to Stanley. He was utterly confused- and yet grateful as-well. ‘Finally, I get to hear his voice again!’ He thought to himself. He was so excited, he ran to the lounge. He wanted to see the narrator in a more casual area of the building. Some middle ground of sorts.
Stanleys mind was racing.
‘What could the narrator look like? Maybe he is a tall older man, with a turtle neck- no a short chubby man- is he even human? What if he is some animal- like a cat! Or a snake or or-’
Stanley could barley contain his excitement, as he paced the employee lounge in hopes the time would pass by quickly.
A little past 20 minutes the door of the employee lounge opened. Stanley head whipped to it. And he was surprised to say the least.
The narrator was tall, taller than the doorway in-fact. He was inhuman, with jet black fur. His eyes a bright yellow, blinding almost, with rectangular gold glasses sitting neatly on his nose. His head resembling more of an animalistic shape. Black long-ish hair- a mullet of sorts- neatly pushed from his face. Yellow lines scattered around his body. He had a white button up shirt with a dark yellow suit vest.
His legs resembling almost goat legs but he had paws on the end of them, not hooves. Covered in back fur with yellow markings. Large fluffy ears that resembled a foxes. And what surprised Stanley the most, was that a-
A long thin and flat yellow tail with an arrow on the end of it. Resembling the adventure line ™️ .
The narrator opened his mouth, revealing sharp teeth.
“Stanley, it seems that you can’t entertain yourself without my guidance so I decided to take it upon myself to speak to you in person.”
Stanley stared in shock. His mouth slightly ajar, before he stepped closer to the narrator, getting a better look at him. Stanley reached his hand up and touched the narrators face. The narrator leaning back slightly to try and avoid the physical contact. To no avail.
“Stanley I-“
Stanley moved his hands down and began and sign quickly, so quick the narrator was barley able to read it.
[You look incredible, why haven’t you come down sooner? This is is cool! You look so cool! I can’t believe it! And you’re here, you’re real! I’m not alone here! I’m not crazy! You’re not just some voice In my head- oh my god! I-]
The narrator gently took a hold of Stanley’s hands and moved them down,
“Calm yourself Stanley.”
The narrator sighed, patting Stanley’s head on hopes to calm him down.
“You are such a child, I didn’t know someone who couldn’t speak could be so irritating.”
Stanley rolled his eyes. Of course, back to the insults. But oh how he missed those insults, his voice, it was refreshing. To hear it through something that wasn’t a speaker. To hear it through him. To see him.
“.. Stanley why are you staring at me..?”
Stanley snapped out of it, he had been staring at the narrator for a while, his face burned red out of embarrassment.
[Sorry, Sorry]
“It’s.. alright.”
The narrator cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Anyway, the story-“
[Can I pet you?]”
The narrator paused and blinked a few times.
“P-Pardon..?”
[Pet? Can I pet you?]
Stanley signed slowly, so that the narrator could understand him better
“No I- I got that it’s just.. what do you mean ‘Pet’..? Are you implying I’m some sort of pet? An animal companion that’s just here for your amusement?! Why I thought you had some sort of self awareness but it’s clear your can’t!”
The narrators fur started to stand up like a cats, as he almost bared his teeth at Stanley.
“It would make sense if you were to ask to ‘feel my fur’ if anything- not like I would even say set to that. But pet? Pet?! It’s like I’m some sort of plaything to you. I-“
The narrator continued his rambling and insulting to Stanley. But Stanley just stares to the narrator in awe. A real, breathing being, in-front of him. Taking to him. It was all too much, yet not enough. Stanley wanted to feel the narrator, to hold him.
“And for another thing, I-“
The narrator cut himself off and looked at Stanley. With a confused look on his face.
“Pardon? You want to ‘Feel’ me?”
‘What?’
“I- I can hear you.. you know…”
Stanley gave a confused look on his face, hear him? Stanley couldn’t even speak. This made no sense, there was nothing to hear.
“I can hear your thoughts Stanley. I couldn’t do it from the microphone booth but so can hear.. so.. please keep your strange perverse thoughts to yourself. Thank you.”
[Perverse? I just was thinking that I wanted to feel your fur. Nothing perverse.]
“Stanley, you practically thought.”
The narrator cleared his throat
“Oh I would love to feel your body, to hold you, to feel you.”
Stanley’s face went red, he hadn’t realized how weird it really sounded out loud. He turned his face away.
[Sorry.]
He signed awkwardly
“It’s fine. Now, the story. We have to get back to that. Come on, just because I’m down here doesn’t change anything. Let’s get back to the story now, chop chop.”
The narrator clapped his hands together and walked out of the lounge.
‘No please, a few more minutes!’
Stanley pleaded through his mind, now knowing the narrator could hear him.
“Stanley, this run has been going on for almost a whole day now. We need to get back on track.”
‘Please! Narrator please! I haven’t seen another person- well being- in so long! Just let me enjoy it for a few minutes!’
“Stanley! You are being a brat!”
Stanley pause. His mind a blank. Somehow it felt worse hearing it in person. Stanley shook the feeling awa.
‘I’m not a brat!’
The narrator turns back to Stanley, glaring.
“Stanley, stop behaving like a child. You are a full grown adult. But you can’t take simple commands without being a selfish, entitled, stupid, brat! You don’t even deserve being narrated. You should be alone in here. I should’ve made you less annoying. Making you mute wasn’t enough to shut you up. I was stupid to give you thoughts.”
Stanley felt tears burn the edges of his eyes. And a pit drop in his stomach. No no no. He didn’t mean it. Calm yourself Stanley, you’re fine. His insults don’t matter. Stanley wanted to run, to hide. To go somewhere that he didn’t have to hear these insults but his feet were stuck to the floor.
“Oh stop being so over dramatic. People have to many icky emotions. It doesn’t affect you that much so stop being a cry baby. You are a grown adult not a toddler.”
Stanley clenched his fists, then a lightbulb went up in his head. He could finally do something he had been waiting for. He could hit the narrator
“No no. Stanley-“
The narrator was cut off by a fist slamming into his face, knocking him down and knocking his glasses off.
END (CLIFF HANGER LMAO 🖕🖕)
((You don’t get the gay shit till later :3))