Work Text:
"Please, Stanley, not this again. Why do you insist on making me hurt?!" The Narrator asks as Stanley walks through the red door.
"I don't. Why do you assume what I'll do?"
"Because you hardly ever give me any indication of what's happening in that small, incompetent brain of yours!" Stanley stops and looks up. "Oh, don't give me that look."
"Why are you suddenly saying anything about this ending?"
"I'm tired of it, Stanley, I really am. I'm tired of your choices. I'm tired of you."
"Well, I'm the only person you've got, so deal with it! Why are you so angry at me suddenly?!"
"I'm just expressing my emotions. More than you know how to do."
Stanley scoffs and glares upwards at where The Narrator's voice is coming from. "What. Are you talking about?"
"You're an emotionless peice of shit! You talk and look in a way that conveys no emotion! It's always a blank canvas with you! You really stink at communication, you know that?"
"..."
"Stanley then realized that this is why his coworkers left in the first place. They all went to parties and no one invited Stanley. Because Stanley was weird and uncomfortable to be around. Everyone hated Stanley. He would never be able to fit in."
"..."
"Look at him. Even now, he can't even talk! Half the time, he doesn't talk! He's just a useless background person!"
Stanley goes back out from the red door and slams it.
"Oh, is he mentally unwell? Is he having an emotional breakdown right now? Does he have the big sad?"
Stanley ends up going all the way back to the broom closet. He slams the door and just sits there.
