#looks like stanley won't be available for the next few eternities

[thejuniperparable]

((request)) stanley is bored and tries to get new endings by doing stupid shit around the normal office (using vending machines, making forts, breaking mugs?) if you do writing for this one i might draw a comic or smth for it! also merry christmas if you celebrate :DDD

(Sorry for the long wait! Hope everyone had a nice Christmas!)

(For this prompt, I decided to write a oneshot for it :D)

Stanley had found, clicked, discovered, and broken absolutely everything in the parable. Yet that somehow didn't deter him from messing with the vending machine in the Employee Lounge for the umpteenth time.

"Stanley kicked the vending machine. Stanley shook the machine. Stanley screamed at the machine. But his exertions proved futile. The only thing that would come out of this was the loss of his job."

The office worker huffed, settling for a cup of coffee. Which tasted absolutely terrible.

"Blame that on your unrefined palate," the Narrator shot back. "What are you even trying to accomplish here?"

He shrugged, signing, New endings. New anything.

The voice gave a derisive snort. "Well, Stanley, I'll say that your behavior here certainly isn't new. Your antics aren't going to magically change the course of the narrative."

Stanley responded by pouring his coffee into a nearby plant. It probably wouldn't die. Probably.

The next reset, Stanley managed to convince The Adventure Line™ to join him in a fort. Built in the employee lounge of course. It was haphazardly thrown together, with the couch cushion roof threatening to collapse, but at least Stanley and the Line™ fit comfortably under it.

Eventually, both Stanley and the Line™ got bored, with the Line™ breaking several holes in the ceiling before leaving. This destruction caused the game's graphics to malfunction, and soon the game itself crashed. Stanley swore he heard the Narrator's irritated groan as everything reset.

Maybe next time he wouldn't invite the Line™ to join him. But hey, Stanley marked this as a new ending in his book.

...

"Besides blatantly ignoring the fact that all his coworkers were gone, Stanley also decided to destroy company property. Which would probably result in him getting fired. Or in legal trouble."

Another loud shatter filled the Mind Control Facility. Stanley leaned over the railing, casually dropping coffee mugs into the dark abyss. He cheerfully ignored the Narrator.

"You do understand that I'll have to clean that mess, hmm?" The Narrator groused. "Seriously, how is this entertaining to you?"

His only answer was yet another mug plummeting into oblivion.

Having run out of mugs, Stanley decided to go through the Freedom Ending. Nothing new happened there, but he could clearly hear the Narrator struggling to rein in its anger.

"And Stanley was... happy." As Stanley's vision turned white, he heard the Narrator grumble, "Even though he's making me absolutely miserable at my expense."

...

When Stanley spawned in, he found himself standing in a dark room in front of a wooden table. The fluorescent light overhead flickered, barely illuminating the small room.

"Stanley," The Narrator began. "This is me being serious. In fact, this is my serious room. It's where I come to be serious."

Seriously?

"Yes, serious-" it stopped. "Oh, you know what I mean. I've been thinking very deeply these past runs. And I believe I've found a solution to your anomalous desire for something 'new.' Oh yes, you've been seeking something... different, haven't you?"

Stanley nodded, a little worried about the direction the Narrator's monologue was going.

"Well, here's my proposal. One hundred, billion, trillion years standing here in the serious room." He paused for dramatic effect. "How's that for a new ending, hmm? You chose to tamper with my game, desperately seeking something, anything to satiate your boredom. So here! Here's your prize. Congratulations."

That's a long time, Stanley commented, now perched on the table.

"Oh, certainly. That's about... hmm... I don't have an exact number, but yes, it is a long time. Perhaps even forever. I'll check back here every hour or so, alright? Have fun."

With those words, the Narrator went silent, presumably leaving to go to his third swimming pool. Or whatever omnipresent voices did when they weren't busy trapping hapless office workers in "serious rooms." Stanley began humming a tune to himself. It was just him, the table, and the light.

As if on cue, the light abruptly went out with a sharp crackle. Ok... now it was just Stanley, the table, and the shadows.

One minute down, at least a trillion more years to go. Stanley laid down on the table, staring up at the ceiling. He was going to be here a while.