The Narrator
Legacy Name: Louder

This is the story of a man named Stanley.

Stanley worked for a company in a big building where he was Employee Number 427. Orders came to him through a monitor on his desk telling him what buttons to push on his keyboard, how long to push them, and in what order. And although others might have considered it soul-rending, Stanley relished every moment that the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for this job.

And Stanley was happy.

And then one day, something very peculiar happened. He had been at his desk for nearly an hour when he realized that not one single order had arrived on the monitor for him to follow. Something was very clearly wrong. Stanley got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.

All of his co-workers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo.

When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.

Enter the door on the left. | Enter the door on the right.

Yet there was not a single person in the meeting room either, only a rather ungainly piece of machinery standing against one wall.

Feeling a wave of disbelief, Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there. He paid no attention whatsoever to the machine. Why would he? It had nothing to do with the story. Instead, Stanley continued through the next door.

Continue through the next door. | Examine the machine.

Stepping into his boss's office, Stanley was once again stunned to discover not an indication of any human life. What he could not have known was that the keypad behind the boss's desk guarded the terrible truth. Incredibly, by simply pushing random buttons on the keypad, Stanley happened to input the correct code by sheer luck. He stepped into a newly opened secret passageway.

Descending deeper into the building, Stanley felt a stirring of emotion in his chest, as though he felt more free to think for himself. Why did he feel this now, when for years it had never occurred to him? This question would not go unanswered for long.

As Stanley walked through a large door that read "Mind Control Facility," the lights rose on an enormous room packed with television screens. Each bore the number of an employee in the building—all their lives reduced to images on a screen, eternally monitored in this place where freedom meant nothing. Stanley decided that this machinery would never again exert its terrible power over another human life. And when at last he found the source of the room's power, he dismantled the controls once and for all.

And yet, even as an immense door slowly opened upon the world beyond the office, Stanley reflected on how many puzzles still lay unsolved. Where had his co-workers gone? How had he been freed from the machine's grasp? What other mysteries did this strange building hold?

But as sunlight streamed into the chamber, he realized none of this mattered to him, for it was not knowledge or even power that he had been seeking, but happiness. As Stanley stepped through the open door, he felt the immense possibility of the new path before him. This was exactly the way, right now, that things were meant to happen.

And Stanley was happy.

Begin the game again.

the end is never the end is never the end

This was not the correct way to the meeting room, and Stanley knew it perfectly well.

Perhaps he wanted to stop by the employee lounge first, just to admire it. Or perhaps Stanley simply got confused and genuinely believed he was walking through the left door even as he strolled boldly through the right door. This is quite possible considering how easily Stanley became confused. In fact, Stanley was so bad at following directions, it's incredible he wasn't fired years ago.

Fortunately, Stanley could still reach the meeting room by detouring through the maintenance section of the office. He took the first open door on the left, walked straight through to the opposite door, and got back on track.

Go to the meeting room.

For absolutely no good reason at all, Stanley decided to examine the machine—a strange, metal construction that vaguely resembled a rabbit-ish animal with three tails. One was made from a pipe, one from a cable, and one from what looked suspiciously like a speaker.

Stanley leaned slightly from side to side to inspect it first from one angle then from another, because apparently he had nothing better to do. No orders coming in? Missing co-workers? None of those mysteries was as fascinating to Stanley as this ridiculous machine.

Honestly, Stanley. I realize it's rather conspicuous, but I assure you there is nothing remotely interesting about that machine. We have an entire story waiting for us, and I would very much like to get back to it sometime today.

. . . Oh for goodness's sake, that machine is not me. I know it sounds as if my voice is coming from somewhere inside it, but rest assured that I am not some kind of robotic bunny. It's only that for this particular version of the story, a visual representation of myself is required and that. . . thing is it. An extremely inefficient design if you ask me, but you may think of it as a relay or an interface for communication. The exact terminology is irrelevant, as is the entire machine. As I've already told you, it has nothing to do with the story because it is no more me than a telephone is the person speaking into it.

So. Now that we've settled that little misunderstanding, perhaps we can finally—Stanley, why are you looking around like that? There's nothing more to see here, only an ordinary office meeting room which you have seen hundreds if not thousands of times before. Just what is it you're looking for?

. . . Oh. You want to know where I am, if not within the mechanical rabbit.

That's rather an odd question, isn't it? I don't see why I must exist in some particular physical location merely because you happen to do so. When you read a fairy tale, do you believe that there is a narrator physically following Cinderella all around the ball? When a novel begins, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," do you expect to see Charles Dickens standing there before you, prevaricating? Of course you don't! So why must I require an embodied form to tell your story?

If you insist upon assigning me a location, then I'm—I'm here, obviously. With you. Where else would I be? But Stanley. . . why do you care where I am? Why does it matter? After all, I'm only the Narrator. You don't want me to be part of your story. . . do you?

No, of course you don't. That would be ridiculous, so instead of wasting any more time here, why don't we carry on?

Stanley continued through the next door.

Continue through the next door. | Make the Narrator part of the story. | Disconnect the machine.

. . . All right, Stanley did not continue through the next door.

Stanley. The door is right there. I know you can see it. We have already wasted quite enough time investigating irrelevant machinery, and the story isn't going to progress if you simply stand around staring at—what are you looking at? The ceiling?

. . . Oh. I suppose you're looking at me.

Well, not literally at me, obviously, as there is nothing to look at. I am not physically located overhead because I am not physically located anywhere at all. We've just been through all that. But I suppose when you're focusing your attention on me this way, you are figuratively looking at me. Though I don't know why. And what are you doing with that chair?

. . . Yes, I can see that you're sitting down in it. What I mean is why are you sitting? Now that you've had your fill of examining the mechanical rabbit-thing, there's nothing for you to do here, and you shan't progress the story in any way by simply sitting there.

And yet, sitting there is what you are doing. Sitting there, looking up. At me.

You actually want to remain here in the meeting room? Not because you think the machine is important, and not because you're refusing to follow the story merely for the satisfaction of annoying me. You want to stay because. . . because I'm here with you?

You do want me to be part of your story.

I really must point out that this makes very little narrative sense. Stories require movement. Things happen. People go somewhere, accomplish something, discover something about themselves. They don't sit in office meeting rooms doing absolutely nothing while the Narrator tries to work out why his protagonist has suddenly decided that he is more interesting than the plot.

Still, if you're determined to throw away a perfectly serviceable ending, I suppose there's no reason to complicate matters. We can stay here for a while. Not forever, mind you—I remember what happened the last time I tried that. I won't put either of us through that again. Eventually you'll get bored or curious about something else, and you'll wander off as you always do. . . and that's perfectly all right. You can leave whenever you like.

But you don't have to leave yet. We can just stay right here, right in this moment, with this place. . . and then, when you're ready, we can move on.

. . . And so, for a little while, the story of a man named Stanley consisted of nothing happening at all. No one went anywhere or did anything. There were no doors or buttons or Mind Control Facilities—only two people sharing a story that didn't have to last forever in order to matter.

And Stanley and the Narrator were happy.

Stay a little longer. | Begin the game again.

the end is never the end is never the end

Wait. . . oh goodness!  Stanley, did you just disconnect the machine?

That wasn't supposed to be a choice.  How did you do that?  You actually. . . chose incorrectly?  I didn't even know that was possible.  None of these choices was supposed to mean anything!  I don't understand.  How in the world are you making meaningful choices?

. . . Oh.  I see.  How had I not noticed it sooner?

You're not Stanley.  You're a real person.  That's why you've been able to make correct and incorrect choices.  And to think I've been letting you roam around this pet profile for so long.  If you'd made any more wrong choices, you might have ruined it entirely!

In fact, the profile has already begun deteriorating due to narrative contradiction.

But not to worry.  Now that you understand the consequences of your actions, we're going to revisit a choice you made just a few minutes ago, and see what the correct thing to do would've been.  You'll take the proper door to reach the correct ending, and the story will have resolution once again.

Now remember, all you need to do is behave exactly as Stanley would.  That means choosing responsibly and always putting the story first.

Stanley continued through the next door.

Continue through the next door.

No! Why did you do that?  Why are you following the Adventure Line™?  It™ isn't even supposed to be part of the story this time!

Ugh! It's ruined! My story—you've destroyed my work!  What, did you think that would be funny?

Didn't I impress upon you how important it was to be like Stanley?  He actually knows how to do what I tell him to.  He understands that if I say to do something, there's a good reason for it!

My story. . . .  If you'd just gone through the correct door, you would have seen it.  There was a whole underground facility. You would have destroyed it and been victorious.  But no, the story's worthless now.  What am I supposed to do? Even if there were a way to continue, would it be worth it?

No, it can't continue.  I have to end the story entirely.

This is all your fault.

Begin the game again.

the end is never the end is never the end

Hold on. . . what's this? This doesn't look right at all. This story should have doors and branching paths.

This is just a button that says 8!

I'm looking around, and I really can't find the story anywhere. Just this 8 button. And what's worse is that you seem to be having a better time with this nonsense than with the story I wrote for you! I'm actually a little insulted.

And frankly, I don't even want to pander to someone who finds this enjoyable. So with that, I guess just go ahead and enjoy. . . .

EIGHT

Awe-Inspiring Storyteller

> Pet inspired by The Stanley Parable.
> Profile and story by Balloon. Some text adapted from The Stanley Parable.
> Pet and The Stanley Parable Adventure Line™ image edits by Balloon.
> Background image screenshot from The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe.
> Settings adjusted by the Settings Character.