Stanley's Day off -1-

Everything was going absolutely right, to a T.

Clearly, something was wrong.

The Narrator continued to tell his story correctly for the nth time in a row. He wasn't sure why Stanley had suddenly decided to start playing along the right way.

The first time he'd thought that Stanley finally understood the importance of following the narration and not going outside the story. As time passed, The Narrator got more suspicious. There must be something else.

Yes,there was no other explanation for why Stanley had decided to ignore all the other tantalizing routes, a chance to irritate the Narrator.
There was the off chance that Stanley had truly given up but The Narrator was skeptical. Poking into Stanley's head gave him nothing.
The Narrator rattled off his lines, boredom seeping through the cracks of his pleased and calm facade.
As he waited for the game to reload so they could start again, The Narrator decided he would do things differently.

....

Stanley came back to his office as always. He got up, knowing that there would be no narration just yet until he left his desk. As he stepped out and walked through the first two office sections however, something was clearly amiss.

There were no lines.

No lines meant no Narrator.

Stanley hesitated, unsure of what to do. He peered up at the ceiling hoping for some sort of response. As he approached the two open doors he waited.

Again, nothing.

Perhaps The Narrator was so awed by his obedience the past few playthroughs, that he expected Stanley to do it by himself.

Stanley went through the door on his left.

....

He did it.

He went through the whole game, still no Narrator.

As the game reset in silence he decided to test things out. Stepping out of his office he was greeted with silence once more. He played with other people's computers, jumped on their desks even.

It wasn't until he jiggled the handle-or clicked as the Narrator liked to call it- on door 430 that something dawned on Stanley.

Instead of staying inert, it opened.

Stanley had the office to himself with seemingly no Narrator.

.....

The Narrator watched as Stanley went through the same route without him, resisting the urge to narrate once more, even as the words tugged at his mouth. His resolve to not Narrate, just this one time was stronger than his duty to narrate.

It was a little disheartening to see that he wasn't even all that needed. He could do the story just fine without him-granted the meta-being was still here and he was the one opening doors and everything else to keep the story going in his 'absence'. Just once he'd wanted to hear Stanley beg for him to come back. To want him, to need him.

He was about to open his mouth when Stanley started to explore the building.

The Narrator decided that he'd let the employee do as liked.

For now.

.....

Office number 430 was exceptionally boring. It was exactly the same-or almost so as his own. But it was a new section he'd never been able to get to before. He shifted through papers that had nothing on them for the most part-seeing how he was never meant to be here it wasn't anything surprising to Stanley although he figured it'd have been nice if there were words on it, even if it was gibberish.

Stanley wandered about, opening doors and poking his head through them. This grew boring after a while and so Stanley went to the lounge.

It was a nice lounge. Of course it was, The Narrator had said so and by extension it was partially true with Stanley. He could stay here as long as he wanted, read the magazines, make himself some coffee if he wanted.

......

The Narrator watched in annoyance as Stanley sat down and read the papers while drinking a cup of coffee. It was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do but it accomplished nothing. Honestly, there couldn't be that much to read down there. How long could one person make a cup of coffee last?

...

A long time apparently.

......

Stanley finished the last magazine and sat there. Now what?
He could jump off of the platform and restart, possibly with The Narrator there. But it'd be a waste of an opportunity. The thought of having nothing to do as well as having no interest int doing much with his own free will scared Stanley. He liked to think of himself as more than just a puppet-when he wasn't absentmindedly walking through the hallways half listening to the Narrator talk on and on.

The employee got up and walked in front of the vending machine. He stared at it for a few minutes before giving it a firm a kick.

Nothing.

Oh well, he tried.

As in response, perhaps out of pity?- a can fell down.

Stanley stopped and stared, eyes wandering to the ceiling. After a moment, the man stooped down to pick it up. The can had a light blue wavy design on it.

It was a nice gift, from The Narrator no doubt. The man-er...manly voice- wouldn't have left him all alone.

Stanley left the lounge.