You wake up to the sound of computer keyboard clicking.

It wasn't close to you but neither was it far.

I woke up..

I don't think that I have ever slept befo-

MY ARM! How is my arm!?

You find your hand. It was bandaged neatly. It also had stickers on them.

They were little heart stickers. Also there was a little stickman doodle on the thumb part of the bandages, scribbled with a basic office pen.

He... Wrapped it. He didn't reset.

Your head hits your pillow.

Hohh... I am alive with this consciousness... Oh, that's good.

You look around.

Did... Did he wrap me in this blanket? I... Oh no, I must've fallen asleep.

And then... He wrapped me up...

You crawl forward on the bed. Your hand was still numb but you could move more.

How long was I asleep for?

Both the doors are open.

There were no cameras in his place, so this was problary his way of looking over you.

A figure was behind the computers. You couldn't see clearly his face because of the door but you could see the reflection of his computer display on his coffee mug.

He's... He's playing online chess.

My god.

Stanley ...

Your heart froze.

Stanley... Is a ... No... This is wrong.

I have to say this every time, however, can I still blemish it up?

He sighs.

This is the story of a person named Stanley.

He hasn't noticed me waking up.

Stanley worked for a company in a big building where they were Employee #427.

Okay... So how do I get out of here..

Employee #427's job was simple:..

You crawl out of the bed to the window.

This one was also way too light for you to see out of.

...they sat at their desk in Room 427 and they pushed buttons on a keyboard...-

Stanley? Are you awake? You shouldn't be awake yet!

Oh fuck... I'm caught. Or am I?

Stanley, you should understand that I am risking a lot by not pushing the Restart button.

He walked through the hall.

Of course I shouldn't have considered an opinion from such a lowlife like you. How foolish of me.

He looked at the empty bed before taking the hammer out of the bin.

Stanley, you can't hide from me. This is not possible.

He kneeled and looked under the bed just to see a sleeping person on the other side of the bed. On the floor.

Uh. Stanley.

Oh... Stanley, you silly simple creature.

He smiled and raised up before dropping the hammer.

Why do I still keep thinking that you'll do more?

He walked over to you.

I suppose it is all about "that" ending.

You felt his hands close around your body.
He stood up with you in his arms. There was no struggle at all. His hands were cold but his chest seemed to be warm.

He fixed your hair. Narrator smelled of papers, books and basic office supplies. He smelled good.

Well I suppose that the time is right.

He started walking. First was the bathroom yellow light. Then the recording room light. You heard the door close.

Narrator started humming a song.

It was emptying. Sounded like he was really alone.
What was it that he was doing here?
A lonely person is said to always hum or listen to music. To fill a bottomless pit in their heart or head.

You clinged on to that man harder. His coat was scratching your fingertips.

What's this? Are you secretly awake Stanley? Or are you just having a bad dream?

You don't respond. You don't know what to do.

Hm..! He hums before continuing walking.

The differences in light help you understand where you are moving.
The smells of the various furniture around the rooms and the Narrator's humming, sometimes echoing and sometimes going completely silent.

You just wish you could open your eyes. Just for a moment.

The familiar lamp buzzing of your home office room reaches your ears.

I wish I could take care of you more. I wish all of this had a meaning, you could understand.

He seated you slowly and held his hand so it wouldn't hurt to rest your head on the office chair.

I wish... You'd remember.

I wish..... Oh how much I wish for.

He took his hand suddenly away from your head support. It hurt hitting your head against that plastic chair.

Here's a spoiler for you. We never get what we yearn for.

You jump up as your office door gets shut.

You rush it open.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

"Narrator!" You scream.

"Narrator!!" You shout.

"Narrator!" Your throat was starting to hurt.

So you cough.

"Nar- NARRATOR!" *Cough* *Cough*

"I want to speak with you!"

You hear a door close in your head.

He must be back in his room.

You run across the halls to the boss's office before he got to say any of his lines. There it was. The secret door. You try to open it.

It has been replaced.

You grab a book from the shelf. The same heavy one from before and start getting ready to hit the door but it opens slowly.

You rush it open.

It is a regular broom closet. It is much smaller and everything you saw here earlier is gone.

Stanley had woken up from a strange dream. So real yet so far. Though there was a secret passageway door in his boss's office in their dream. It was now...

No...

A regular normal broom closet.

Though. Just like in their dream... All of Stanley's coworkers were gone.

No no no...

What could it mean?

"Narrator, please."

You start tearing up. Everything is suddenly so empty.

"There is no one here. Please. Please. Talk to me."

He is not answering. You walk in the closet and curl up in a ball. This is just like the first time in the other closet. Just this time.
You wish for him. Not hate him.

Why is he gone. Why why why. I need him. He is my only way for getting out of here. Please....

"Please...please...please..." Your vision gets blurry.

I won't be playing a role in this. I'm not going to motivate you.

"You... You... Said that already.."

I'm not going to speak out anything at all.

"Why are you ignoring me? I can remember now!"

I'm just going to be forbearing and wait for you to complete whatever it is you enjoy doing so much in this room.

"But..but I can remember everything now! Your recording room! Your..your.. Sods and ..."

That was it. There were no other memories. It had been constantly wiped out. Over and over again.

"No..No no no no no no no no!" You cry before you hit your head against the shelf. A box falls. You cover your head. The box floats for a moment before going back to it's place.

"Narrator?"

Ohh Stanley, you tire me.

"NARRATOR!"

Well, lets hear it. What is it?

"I-I-I-"

Shh, shh. Calm down and breathe. You can't speak while you're sobbing. This is also not part of the story so stop it.

"I'm sorry Narrator!"

Why you crying?

"Because.. I am happy now!"

Happy? Happy why?

"Because I am not alone anymore"

No.. Stanley, I don't count. You are terribly alone! All your coworkers are gone! Nobody cares about you and you have noone to call. It's all written here, clear as day!

"Okay!" You smile.

Maybe I should've let that box fall on you.

"Okay!"

Stanley.

Narrator lowered his tone.
It felt as if he was closer to the microphone.

"What..?"

You're still crying. What's wrong?

You try to wipe your tears.

Oh god. Don't do that. You'll irratate your eyes and get a infection. You humans are really vulnerable Stanley. Truly flawed.
Don't make me come down there.

"I'm sorry" You smile. It made you giggle a little. Felt silly, small and dumb.

You all right now?

You nod.

Okay, good.

Get up now. Don't sprain your hand Stsnley.

You walk out of the broom closet.

Close the door.

"Why?"

To get you to think about something else other than depression and death you emo.

"My gosh, do you even know what 'emo' means?"

My goshhh... I don't know StAnLeY. I'm ageless. I have a British voice. You just insulted a whole nation.

"Were you ... I don't sound like that!-"

Now, on again with the story!

He looks through his papers again.

You sigh. Some sort of comfort and hope had been put in you.

He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real. He is real. I am real...

Stanley?

"Huh?"

My.. Your head is rather crowded today. I was yelling your name for quite some time.

"Ohm, I'm sorry!"

Neverminddd...

So let's continue. Where were we.. Oh yes! The boss's office.

He cleared his throat.

What could it mean, he wondered. Desperate for answers, he began turning the room over looking for clues that might unravel the situation, until at last, he discovered a keypad behind the boss's desk.

Maybe I am meant for this simple life.
Maybe I don't need anything else.

But alas, no code.

You chukle. Narrator stopped his dialoge. He seemed to be also chukling. A bit, but just covering it up.

You lightened his mood.

For this keypad guarded the terrible secret that lay buried below his feet. And so the boss had assigned it an extra secret PIN number. 2845. But of course, Stanley couldn't possibly have known this.

"What was the code?" You look at the small camera with a yellow dot on the keypad.

You hear the Narrator sigh.

You giggle as you press random numbers on the keypad.

Stanley began entering random codes into the keypad, knowing full well the sheer statistical unlikelihood that this would ever result in a correct combination. If he knew that the combo was 2-8-4-5, it would be another story entirely. But no. No, this is what he was going to do instead.

This is gold.

You continue pressing random numbers.

Stanley just sat around twiddling his thumbs. Trying to input anything on the device was useless, since he could never possibly know that the combination was 2-8-4-5.

You cover your smile with a hand on your mouth to look like you're thinking hard.

2 - 8 - 4 - 5.

He does think that I am stupid. Brilliant.

You almost let out a chukle before resuming messing around with the keypad.

One of the reasons aside from annoying the Narrator, was listening to the sound that plays each time you pressed a button.
You liked that sound.

For god's- but it turns out that the panel's emergency override kicked in, and the door just opened all by itself, and Stanley just got the hell along with the story. Well whoop-dee-doo.

You start tearing up. Holy sh- this is funny.

The door unlocks.

Stanley, you ...

"I'm sorry! I had to! The buttons..." you force your smile down.

"They just made such a great noise. I loved it..."

Ohhh... Well, I loathe those types of necessities that your sort brings into the world. Here.

You find a copy of the keypad in your hand.

Makes all the noises. Now go!

"That was very kind of you..!"

It doesn't last long.

"The buttons thing?"

My "kindness".

"Oh"

Now go. You shorten my lifespan.

Behind that door was an elevator.

You step in. Elevator music plays.

What fun.

Descending deeper into the building, Stanley realized he felt a bit peculiar.

And of course... Go on Narrator.

It was a stirring of emotion in his chest, as though he felt more free to think for himself, to question the nature of his job.

Weirdly. This actually made you question this.

You never could recall what your work was. It felt so normal and usual. A office job. Nothing more. Nothing less, but now.

It was all... Eerie. Like a dream you can't remember clearly.

Why did he feel this now, when for years it had never occurred to him?

This question would not go unanswered for long.

The elevator stops and the doors open. It is dark. The new room is huge. Concrete walls everywhere.

What... What the hell is this?

Stanley walked straight ahead through the large door that read 'Mind Control Facility'.

This feels.. Set up... Would he really show his real place. What.. What does it all mean?

"Wait, Narrator. Is this real?"

No response.

"Wait... Does my boss actually...? No. This... This is stupid. A stupid little game. This is not real."

You sigh. "This is not real" and walk into the big entrance.

The room is full of big screens. It was very dark.

"Hey?"

The emptiness and the loneliness started to get to you again.

"Hey-Hey Narrator... You're not ignoring me? Are you? Heyy?"

The room is cold and your voice echoes.

"This is eerie!" You try to get him to respond you. But... It's not working.

You look back at the light from the elevator.

"I can go back... Right?"

No response. Of course. That was also an option. Wasn't it?

You cross your arms. It reminds you of the bandages. The little smiling stickman is still there. Scribbled with a blue office ballpoint pen.

I'm not imagining anything. I'm not alone. He is with me. I'm fine. I'm fine.

The room felt as if it was getting colder and colder. The fog from your breath confirmed it, under the faint blue light from the elevator.

Something was blinking on one of the tables in that even bigger room which you were in right now.

Your heart was pounding.

"Hey... Narrator... Please... Talk with me... When I do this.."

You walked over to the blinking item.

Every step felt like a kilometer. You could feel your skin being covered with chickenpox from the cold constant air.

It was a button. You press it.

The lights rose on an enormous room packed with television screens.

"Oh thank god. Narrator-"

What horrible secret did this place hold, Stanley thought to himself.

"Hey..I..this is not what I mea-"

Did he have the strength to find out?

"No... No this... This.. Stop it Narrator. I need you to talk with me like a person... You can't keep doing this..!"

You hear a echoing chukle.

"You.. You're laughing. At me?"

You want to sit down on the chair and cover your head to have some time to figure it all out but you jump up as you accidentally touch another button.

No no no..!

"STOP THIS. I HATE IT."

Now the monitors jumped to life, their true nature revealed.

"NARRATOR! NARRATOR!" You cry out.

Each bore the numbers of an employee in the building, Stanley's co-workers.

"STOP IT NARRATOR. SPEAK WITH ME! NOT STSNLEY!" Your voice breaks.

The lives of so many individuals reduced to images on a screen, and Stanley, one of them, eternally monitored in this place where freedom meant nothing.

"I can't tell if this is real! Is this office and my job even real!? What is the meaning of this!? PLEASE!"

Your voice just echoes on the walls and returns back to you.

"Fuck this."

You turn to your left. There's a another elevator.

"This world. This... I'm all alone. I can do what I want in this building."

You can still hear your heart pounding.

"Now..." You sigh as you push the button in the elevator.

Static electricity sprikles from it as it starts moving up.

You cover your face with your hands and look through the fingers.

"Nihilism is the belief that all values are baseless and that nothing can be known or communicated. It is often associated with extreme pessimism and a radical skepticism that condemns existence. A true nihilist would believe in nothing, have no loyalties, and no purpose other than, perhaps, an impulse to destroy."

Narrator joins in.

No! He refused to believe it. He couldn't accept it; his own life in someone else's control? Never!

"Which philosopher said life is meaningless?"

It was unthinkable, wasn't it? Was it even possible?

"Arthur Schopenhauer, Søren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche further expanded on these ideas, and Nietzsche, particularly, has become a major figure in existential nihilism."

Had he truly spent his entire life utterly blind to the world?

"

Nihilist viewpoints begin with a refusal to believe that human life draws meaning from a greater context, such as the will or purpose of a divine being, or another external force such as fate or moral goodness, or any measure of the worth and quality of human life."

The elevator stops. You step out.

"Everything is meaningless. SHUT IT INSIDE YOURSELF."

But here was the proof. The heart of the operation. Controls labelled with emotions: 'happy' or 'sad' or 'content'.

Walking, eating, working... all of it monitored and commanded from this very place.

And as the cold reality of his past began to sink in, Stanley decided that this machinery would never again exert it's terrible power over another human life.

For they would dismantle the controls once and for all.

And when at last they found the source of the room's power, they knew it was their duty, their obligation, to put an end to this horrible place and to everything it stood for.

You can hear your breaths. They echo on the walls.

"So this is it... Isn't it? What... Is this what you needed me for? Just this..."

You sigh.

He isn't responding.

You bit your lip. Mouth fills with the taste of blood.

"Huh... Huh? This is it. Isn't it Narrator? This is the end of your story. Your tale."

You step forward to the platform with two glowing buttons on them.

"On" and "Off"

T

his was it.

"I, Stanley Parable..." You raise your hand over the "Off" button.

Your voice freezes.

Your bandages shine in the faint glow.

But what's next? What happens when I push this button? Do I get to go home and be happy?

He said that... I ... Well- Stanley, Stanley did his job. Every day of every week, every month of every year.
And Stanley was happy.

And I thought that I had fun with The Narrator. He already knows everything. How it is going to end. If he doesn't like it. He'll reset. If he likes it... He... What does he do then. Have I really been this uncooperative before? In the earlier resets?

Were we friends?
Am I your son?
Your classmate?

Colleague? Coworker? Associate? Student? Investigator? Operative? Or...

Am I really. ... Just a office worker? Never questioning their job. Because of mind control?

The only reason I foolishly thought that I was happy. No- that I could ever be happy... Is because someone made me feel that way?

Controlled. Regulated. Restrained.

A useless cog in a bigger project that I can't comprehand. Why care about me so much Narrator? Why even try? Forever created just so I could shut off a machine.

In a game.

This is exactly why it feels like this.

This odd feeling like the walls are not real. The air I breathe is fake...
My blood filled with one's and zero's?

Am I ... Dead? And you're trying to wake me up. Into the real world...

What... Is real...?

You laugh suddenly. This was uncontrollable in a way. You cover your mouth as you continue giggling.

I'm going insane.

"You're seeing this. Aren't you, Narrator?"

You look up at the metal towers covered with cameras. All blinking in yellow and not in red or green like cameras should.

"Observing, every detail of my life. Making me do things. Playing with my emotions. Once scared. Then desperate. Salty, and finally... Mad. Driven to insanity?"

You try to quit cracking up.

"You... You just have one flaw. The flaw of the humans like you call me. You can control the environment. But... I overpower you... Because... I have a choice."

You hit the "On" button. The one big screen that was earlier waiting for imputs, lights up.

The ground shakes. You fall to your knees.
Deep ear piercing rumbling is everywhere.

Oh Stanley, you didn't just activate the controls, did you?

What...

After they kept you enslaved all these years you go and you try to take control of the machine for yourself, is that want you wanted? Control?

"But I- But I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A CHOICE!"

Oh...Stanley. Your shouting crushes my style.

*sigh* I applaud your effort, I really do, but you need to understand; there's only so much that machine can do.

"Narrator. Narrator!"

You were supposed to let it go, turn the controls off, and leave.

You try to push yourself up to leave the platform. It all started to feel like it was going to fall apart any second.

Your hand sends a shock of pain through your whole body.

"NARRATOR!" You shout from the bottom of your lungs before you manage to get up and run off the crumbling platform.

Stanley. If you want to throw my story off track, you're going to have to do much better than that.

You trip and fall on your side. Sliding away from the one big monitor.

I'm afraid you don't have nearly the power you think you do...

"WELL WHAT..." You try to get up. It doesn't work so you crawl away on your back from the platform before it fully falls with the construction elevator and buttons.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW!? I MADE THE CHOICE!" you scream over the suffocating noise.

"MY CHOICE!"

Your heart sank. Narrator was laughing again.

"But I... I made a choice... I-"

for example, and I believe you'll find this pertinent:

I never really believed in Satan, or that there was pure evil in the world, until I came here.

Stanley suddenly realized that they had just initiated the network's emergency detonation system.

"No.."

In the event that this machine is activated without proper DNA identification, nuclear detonators are set to explode, eliminating the entire complex.

You look at the black big screen. You are rigid. This feeling of complete loss of control and fear.
The lack of the ability to provide conscious limitation of impulses and behavioral fills your veins. Your mind. Your bones. Save them. SAVE THEM. SAVE YOUR BODY.

How long until detonation, then?

The Narrator makes an a apprehensive halt.

Hmm...let's say, um...two minutes.

He finishes his carefree sentence with a smiling tone curve.

NO.

Red lights beat, blinding you. Everything loses it's initial color. Immense red "1:59" countdown flashes before your eyes on the large Tv.

"NO, NO. THIS WASN'T PART OF YOUR STORY. THIS COULDN'T HAVE BEEN!"

You hurry yourself up before you start running to the additional room. Everything is flashing in red. The significant Countdown is also in this room.

INHALE AND EXHALE.

STAY CALM. STAY CALM!!

GOD DAMMIT STANLEY. STAY CALM!!!!

You pant as you look down at your shoes. Your skin covered with cold sweat.

Ah, now this is making things a little more fun, isn't it, Stanley?!

You couldn't move.

It's your time to shine! You are the star!

He isn't going to help you Stanley.

It's your story now; shape it to your heart's desires!!

Get yourself together.

You run across the field of computers.

"THIS ISN'T FUNNY OR PART OF YOUR STORY!"

Ooh!! But this is much better than what I had in mind!

The original lift to your boss's office shuts and gets covered in metal plates as you run to it.

Who said that this story was meant to be... Funny?

His voice gets closer and closer to the microphone.

What a shame we have so little time left to enjoy it!!!

You run over to the computers.

Okay.. Calm. This is easy. You have worked behind a computer since the first day you woke up.

None of the glowing numbers and buttons don't have any consistency.

Let's try red, blue, yellow! Why NOT!? Right!??

Mere moments until the bomb goes off...,

You run over to another computer. You click some buttons. The screen goes red and displays a white huge "x".

Oh!...But what precious moments each one of them is!!

I need to... Find a way..

More time to talk about you, about me, where we're going, what this all means...!!

I barely know where to start!

"THIS ISN'T WORKING! THIS STORY SHOULDN'T END LIKE THIS. I-I HAD A QUEST NARRATOR. TO FIND ALL MY COWORKERS!"

You desperately hit different buttons. Everything has lost all meaning.

"COME ON NARRATOR. HAHA... You wouldn't leave someone answerless! Would you??? THIS... IS NOT WHAT A KIND NARRATOR WOULD DO!"

You look up at the time. Body filled with rocks and ice.

Didn't I warn you Stanley?

His smug voice reaches your ears.

What's that? You'd like to know where your co-workers are? A moment of solace before you're obliterated?

"NO! I CAN FIX THIS. I brought this upon myself! No one else!! Haha!??"

So you do beleve in consequences. How convenient! Didn't believe in them before hand, did you now... Stanley?

You keep running around.

"NO. Tell me about my coworkers! Where are they!? Where is my boss. Did the machine malfunction and sent them all out of the building. Leaving only me!? Please! TELL ME."

Your lungs needed more air than you could breathe.

Cords. Cords. I need to shut this down. Eliminate power. Where...

You look aimlessly around in this torture.

Alright.

You stand freeze and look up to one of the cameras.

I'm in a good mood, and you're going to die anyway.

The loud alarm was still going on.

I'll tell you exactly what happened to them:

There is a slight pause.

Pause of pure evil.

The red lights stroll over you and the walls. No barriers for the light.

I erased them.

Your eyes widen.

I turned off the machine; I set you free.

"It was...-"

Of course! He confirmed it.

He proceeds with his carefree tone.

That was merely in this instance of the story!

..Sometimes when I tell it, ....I

simply let you sit there in your office forever,

pushing buttons endlessly and then dying alone.

Other times, I let the office sink into the ground, swallowing everyone inside; or I let it burn to a crisp.

You were paralyzed to the place, the menacing ambiance holding you in a tight clasp.

Y

ou stood for two small steps backward.

The purest shape of fear became a tangible, living force that moved slowly over you like some hungry varmint, immobilizing you; your brain, holding you captive.

You couldn't speak. Your only form of communicating.

Pulse beating in your ears, blocking out all other sound, but one.

His voice. Because he was already in your head.

I have to say this...

though, this version of events has been rather amusing..Watching you try to make sense of everything and take back the control wrested away from you...it's quite rich!

I almost hate to see it go.

You were not frightened nor afraid anymore.

What you felt was beyond such nouns.

But I'm sure whatever I come up with on the next go around will be even better... The Narrator narrated for dialogue.

My goodness!

You could hear him raise from his chair and then fall right back on it.

Only 34 seconds left...but I'm enjoying this so much!

You couldn't turn your head to the screen. Your body had stopped listening to you a long time ago.

You know what? To hell with it. I'm going to put some extra time on the clock; why not!

Computer keyboard clicks. A mouse moves and clicks. Everything was so crystal clear on the other side of the phone.

These are precious additional seconds, Stanley.

You could feel the flight responses kick in, increasing your heart rate even more than before, flooding you with added adrenaline.
You didn't care if it was the emotions of the machine controlling you or The Narrator. You just ran.

Time doesn't grow on trees!

Your mind was blank but your hands moved.
You ran into one of the corners of the room and pulled apart a old pipe. You run back to the elevator door and start hitting it with the pipe bar.
Sparks fly into every direction. The bar gets more and more bent.

Your chest hurts. Your mind is blank.

Oh, dear me,...

You stop hitting the gate. Not because you wanted to.
It just hurt too much. You had reopened your wound.

,...what's the matter, Stanley?

Is it that you have no idea where you are going or what you're supposed to be doing right now?

You drop the bar. Useless.

You start running back to the buttons. Every new breath that you take in, spikes as pain in your ribs now.

Or did you just assume when you saw that timer that something in this room is capable of turning it off?

You slow your step as you hold your side.

I mean, look at you, running from button to button, screen to screen, clicking on every little thing in this room! These numbered buttons! No! These coloured ones! Or maybe this big, red button! Or this door!

Everything! Anything! Something here will save me!!

He shouts in a cheerful tone.

Your legs couldn't hold you up anymore.

Something is wrong and it is not my hand.

Am I having a heart attack? No. It can't be.

You raise your head up and close your eyes as you sit on the floor.

Make this pose hurt me less when I breathe.

Do you have any idea what your purpose in this place is?

You lean to your side on the floor. You can't tell if your eyes are open or closed. Innocent black dots that were just dancing in the corners of your eyes had swallowed youd vision whole.
The concrete floor is cold and hard. Your head hurts. Everything...

Hahaha, heh, Stanley...you're in for quite a disappointment.

His chuckle fills your senses.

But here's a spoiler for you: that timer isn't a catalyst to keep the action moving along. It's just seconds ticking away to your death.

You're only still playing instead of watching a cutscene because I want to watch you for every moment that you're powerless, to see you made humble.

This is not a challenge. It's a tragedy.

He laughs.

You wanted to control this world; that's fine.

But I'm going to destroy it first, so you can't.

The building continues shaking more and more. Shelves falling over. One fell on you.

He wasn't preventing it.

You try crawling away from it.

Take a look at the clock, Stanley. That's 30 seconds you have left to struggle.

The lights flash and blind you each time you try to glance.

Thirty seconds until a big boom, and then nothing. No ending here, just you being blown to pieces.

The table with buttons blocking your view from the huge clock rips itself off the ground and flies few meters away. Sparks going everywhere, burning your skin.

Look Stanley, Look! As you do the inevitable, he bursts out laughing at your face from what the last drop of colour had left.

Will you cling desperately to your frail life, or will you let it go peacefully?

Everything gets louder.

Another choice! MAKE IT COUNT!

"NO! NO! NO!

Or don't. It's all the same to me. All a part of the joke. And believe me,
"STOP IT PLEASE!"
I will be laughing at every second of your inevitable life, from the moment we fade in until the moment I say: Happily Ever Af-

"NOOO,-"

Everything goes white as explosions from all sides emerge. Fire from the bottom of the pit, climbing up and swallowing everything on it's way.
The roof shooting off and rooms, and rooms full of chair and computers fall in the yaws of the fire.
Walls collapsing and being torn to slices.