Chapter Text
This is a fanfiction about a named Stanley.
Stanley worked for a company in a big office building…
*Ahem.*
Stanley worked in a big office building.
…
Oh right, that doesn’t work here.
Well, you’ve probably already seen it. Just… imagine Stanley’s office, will you? That’s how this is supposed to work, right?
Anyway, Stanley worked for a company in a big office building where he was Employee Number 427.
Employee Number 427’s job was simple.
He sat at his desk in Room 427, and he pushed buttons on a keyboard…
Orders came to him… through a monitor… on his desk…
…
Actually, you probably already know the story by now. I don’t know why I’m explaining this all again.
All of Stanley’s coworkers mysteriously vanish, he goes to the meeting room, then his boss' office, finds a mind control facility, and turns it off.
Stanley, now that no one can tell him what to do or what to feel, leaves the building and is happy.
Congratulations, you win!
…
…..
Oh, what am I doing? This didn’t turn out how I expected it to at all.
I thought that if I made this in a format where you wouldn’t have any choices, if I had full control over my story, if Stanley couldn’t mess it up for me, then things would be so much simpler!
I suppose I was right. But, this feels too simple. You never achieved or overcame anything, except for simply reading this far.
I don’t even know anything about you. I don’t know what your favorite color is. I don’t know if you want to go left or right. I don’t even know if you like my story!
Well, I suppose you are still reading this.
Yes, surely if you absolutely hated my story, you wouldn’t still be here. You would have simply gone away to read someone else’s fanfiction, or… whatever else it is a fanfiction reader does.
But then, what do you like about this story so far? What am I doing right? Am I doing anything wrong?
Maybe you’re only still reading because you’re bored, and don’t know what else to do.
Oh no, we can’t have that. What can I do to convince you to stay?
Perhaps, if I was more descriptive, that would help. Yes, that’s how these things are supposed to work, right?
The office building’s carpet was all a brown color, with a hint of yellow. Perhaps a little red as well. It was also a bit of a pale hue. The threads of the carpet were aligned in such a way that they created parallel lines, leading away from Stanley’s office. Looking closely, the fibers also formed rows of lines perpendicular to the other lines, creating a grid like pattern. If Stanley had to guess, the carpet was probably about one sixteenth of an inch thick. Then again, Stanley was pretty bad at measurements. Looking closer at the individual threads, they were made of even smaller fibers that were intertwined. These fibers were likely synthetic in nature. Though it is possible they were made of wool. Stanley was never very good at telling these things, he was no carpetologist after all. It was truly astounding how monotonous the carpet was, the office’s janitors must be excellent at their jobs. Come to think of it, Stanley had never seen a janitor cleaning the carpet before. Maybe they simply cleaned it after everyone else went home? Regardless, it was a very clean carpet, almost unnaturally so. Stanley would think that the carpet was new, if it did not lack that signature new carpet smell. Right now, it simply had the normal carpet smell. Maybe a new type of carpet adhesive had been invented, that does not have the standard new carpet smell. Then again, Stanley is fairly certain that this carpet is exactly the same as it was yesterday, though Stanley’s memory has been slightly lacking as of late. Perhaps the company simply replaced the carpet with a new carpet that was identical to the old one in every way. That would likely be a horrific waste of money, but it may be the only way to explain a carpet this clean. Though if they were to replace the carpet, Stanley would think that they would at least get a carpet that was a little more comfortable. This carpet isn’t exactly uncomfortable by any means, but it could certainly be more comfortable as well. It’s a little bit rough, though maybe that’s just how all carpet is.
There, how was that? Can you truly picture yourself in Stanley’s shoes now, walking with the carpet underfoot?
Yes, I am quite the genius if I do say so myself. Who could ever leave me after that thrilling description of carpet?
Though, I did just have a thought. If you did leave, what would happen to me?
What happens to text on a screen, if no one is reading it?
Would I feel anything? Would I even have any way of knowing what happened?
Well, no need to worry about that with such a thrilling story as mine.
Even though… all I’ve done is give a summary of the Stanley Parable… and describe carpet….
Hold on, why in the world are you still reading this? Are you… even still reading this?
No, this is getting too weird, even for my taste. I need something.
Something to keep me grounded, so I don’t spiral down this train of thought. Something to tell me you care about this. Something… familiar.
Stanley did not read chapter two, and instead skipped straight to chapter three.