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“Alright! Looks like it’s just you and I now, Stanley. The Player is gone.”
‘Did they even get every ending?’ Stanley wondered.
“Not quite sure. The last one they did- ahh, let’s see, bup bup bup,” he hummed to himself before finally remembering, “I believe it was the- well, it wasn’t even an ending. It was the door achievement again.”
‘With the bucket.’
“Ah! That’s right! Anywho, since it appears they’ll be gone for a good while now, I think it’s time we get back to-”
The Narrator was suddenly interrupted by a loud, clanky mechanical sound.
“Is that… the copy machine?”
Stanley leaned back a bit, looking from behind the divider in the middle of the communal office space. Behind it, the copier whirred to life.
Despite there being nothing to copy, a fresh sheet of paper popped out and fell to the floor.
He bent down and picked it up.
The Narrator, as if looking over his shoulder read, “‘Bucket’?”
The office worker smiled, ‘Hey, maybe it liked when it got that nice bucket rubbin’.’
“Stanley,” he sighed, “must you take my delightful little jokes and make them sound so crude?”
‘That one wasn’t meant to be crude?’
"Certainly not! Or at least... not in the way you say it- or, well- think it.”
Stanley ignored him as he made his way to the second communal office space and grabbed the bucket.
“What- what are you doing?”
‘Seeing if the bucket feels the same.’
“Stanley,” the Narrator asked with concern, “are you feeling unwell? You do know that those are just a copy machine and a bucket, right? They are objects, not people.”
‘Shut up, I’m invested now.’
He held the bucket close as he backtracked to the previous office space, then walked up to the copier. He stared at it for a bit, then down at the bucket. Then back at the copier, then-
“Nothing is going to happen because they are both inanimate objects! Besides,” he continued a little grumpily, “I thought the bucket was your new best friend, your favorite thing in the world? You fell in love with the damn thing!”
‘You’re the one who made it a “cursed” bucket or whatever. Besides, I only fell in love with it in like one- maybe two endings. And anyway, so did you.’
“I... mm, hmph!”
Stanley held back a laugh, it was so funny when the Narrator got all whiny and jealous.
“Whiny!? Jealous!? How dare you, Stanley! I-”
He was interrupted by the loud mechanical whirring of the copier coming to life once more. The two of them watched as another sheet of paper gently flew out of the machine and fell to the floor.
“Again?”
The office worker bent down, still holding the bucket close, and picked it up. ‘”Bucket?”’
“Oh, this is ridiculous!”
Stanley then touched the bucket to the copier, gently rubbing it against the machine. And it was strange but, he could almost swear the bucket got... a little warmer. The copy machine began whirring once more but this time it was a soft low hum.
‘I- uh, hope this is like them kissing or snuggling or somethin like that. Otherwise this might get super awkward.’
“What in god’s name are you implying, Stanley? Again- it is a bucket and a copy machine! That’s all! They aren’t alive! They aren’t sentient!”
‘I definitely think they’re kissing.’ He moved the bucket away from the copier then softly pressed it back against the machine, and the whirring got momentarily louder.
He rubbed the bucket much more slowly over the copier this time and-
The bucket got… a lot warmer.
‘Holy shit.’
“What is happening to my game?” the Narrator groaned in overly dramatic agony.
‘I guess the bucket wouldn’t have chosen either of us in the Bucket Apartment Ending. It’s in love with the copier,’ Stanley teased.
“Oh, shut up.”
The office worker gave the ceiling a look of fake pity. ‘Sorry, Narry. Looks like we’re both the losers in- uhh, well it’s not a love triangle now... a love square? Too bad so sad,' he thought blandly as he shook his head. 'Hmm, maybe you and I should get together and- huh?’ He turned back to the copier as it made a bit of clanky sound.
“You and I should get together and what?”
Stanley had gotten distracted by the sound of the copier lifting it’s lid.
‘Can it… do that on it’s own?’
“It shouldn’t be able to, no,” the Narrator said, now a little concerned.
‘Maybe I should-’ He held the bucket just above the copier.
“Stanley, wait! Think about what you’re doing!”
‘What? So now you finally see their love?’
“I- well, we… we don’t know what’s going on here. I feel… this seems fairly… uhm,”
‘Kinky?’
“Stanley! If things take too much of an... erotic turn then there goes our nice and even T rating! We might even get pulled from Steam! And certainly Nintendo would be having none of this!”
‘Gimme a break, have you seen some of the games on Steam? Besides, our game isn’t even on right now. Like you said earlier- it’s just me and you. And these two lovers, I guess. Hmm, do you think I should set the bucket down like normal on the copier or maybe sideways, which do you think would be more comfortable for them?’
“I will not be having this conversation with you now or ever.”
Stanley pulled the bucket back to himself, deciding not to set it on the copier just yet. He simply looked it over, then looked back at the copier.
‘It’s kinda sad when you think about it, though, isn’t it?’
“What is?”
‘How the copier sat here alone for so long. I don't remember ever using it. So there it sat. Same surroundings- day in day out. Stuck in this office, barely feeling like a real person.’
“A real person?”
‘But then one day- well, last reset- it met the bucket. Maybe it always knew the bucket was there in the back of its mind. But it wasn’t til now that it realized how… nice it was to have someone else here with it.’
“Stanley?”
The office worker shook his head, ‘I mean it’s not all fun and games, they definitely piss each other off a lot but… who knew they would grow so close? Or maybe they always were? ...And now you’re holding them back.’
“What!? Me? I’m holding us back!? THEM- I mean them- I’m... holding them back?”
Stanley smiled at the ceiling, ‘You know what to do.’
“Hmph. ...Ahem!! Stanley was so enraptured by this new whirlwind romance that it simply made his heart sing! Could a bucket really be so enamored with a mere copy machine? Could a copy machine truly reciprocate the intensity of a bucket’s love? And were either of them really even sentient in the first place? Well, there was only one way to find out! Stanley, with the utmost care, gently placed the bucket on it’s beloved copy machine.”
‘Wow, and you say I’m the weird one.’
“Stanley.”
The moment the bucket touched its mechanical lover- that machine went nuts!
‘Jesus,’ the office worker covered his ears, ‘it's so damn loud!’
“Oh, this is awful!” the Narrator shouted over the intense whirring, “You have to take the bucket off of it, Stanley!”
‘No way! They're- I don't know... having a moment? Anyway it’s calming down now.’
And, though it was still louder than normal, the sound did indeed calm a good bit. That constant mechanical whirring calmed enough to ease into a more rhythmic sort of hum or… purr?
‘Uhh… Whoa, is it shaking now?’
“Is... are the copy machine and the bucket both... steaming? Oh god, this isn’t funny anymore, Stanley. It’s just as I feared. We are going to need the Explicit tag!"
‘You don’t know that! This could be them… uh… maybe they’re bantering?’
“Is the copy machine printing copies of the bottom of the bucket?!”
Stanley bent down and picked one up.
‘Okay…’ he thought plainly, ‘I have no idea how to interpret this. Is it like they’re filming themselves-’
“Stanley!!! Perhaps this is all nothing more than some very intense… passionate... kissing. ‘Making out’ as the kids say?”
‘...’
“That’s a few steps below anything more intimate, right?”
The whirring suddenly stopped, then it filled the room once more- strain in the sound, it was quite different than a bit ago.
“Perhaps we should, ugh, give them some privacy.”
Stanley nodded but-
He stopped at the door when he realized that the whirring had become more strained.
“Stanley, let’s leave! What are you doing?”
‘They aren’t… it’s different now, I think.’
“Hmm?”
‘I think… they’re fighting.’
“Fighting!? They were supposedly kissing and- and well, who knows what- not more than a minute ago!”
Stanley nodded again. ‘They enjoyed the rubbing and the kissing. And then they really enjoyed whatever the heck they were just doing. …But now they’re fighting.’
“This is insanity! Are you really going to tell me that you somehow understand all of the inanimate objects in the office, Stanley!? You’re saying you know my creations better than I do?”
‘Is it really so weird I’d understand the other objects in the office? I mean, I’m one of them, aren’t I?’ he thought casually, a vague sort of bitter acceptance lining the thought.
“Stanley,” the Narrator sighed, “you’re not an object. If you were, it would be so much easier for me to get you from point A to point B.”
The office worker had made his way over to the copier and bucket, he stared at them as he let the Narrator's words sink in. He wasn’t sure how he thought the man would respond but his words made Stanley feel warm inside.
He, of course, allowed his more teasing feelings to take the spotlight instead, though. ‘So, you’re saying I’m special to you?’
“I’m saying you’re the most annoying person to ever exist! Therefore, you exist as a person, as I intended for you to be. You aren’t an object,” he finished somewhat softly.
Stanley looked down at the copier and bucket once more. They had mostly calmed down, shaking a bit here and there, back and forth in something of an argument still- he assumed. Or maybe the copier was just glitching out or broken and neither of these things was sentient to any extent after all.
But either way, the Narrator’s words felt so oddly warm. They were simple words that the man could, and likely would, easily contradict in the next ending... but they still meant a lot to Stanley right now because he could tell that the Narrator truly meant it. And this reminded him of why no matter how much they may hate each other in certain endings, the anger never lasted. Maybe the resets or the Narrator's forgetfulness had something to do with how neither of them ever held a grudge. Or maybe it was just the simple fact that they always had that strange bond, that underlying warmness between them that began as an understanding of being in this together, that reminder that they were stuck here and all they could do was try to make the best of it by entertaining themselves and each other. And so that's what they always did.
With that annoying sappiness in mind, he finally allowed himself to respond more honestly. ‘Narrator… thanks.’
“Ah, uhm, for- for what? I’m merely stating a fact,” he sputtered out, a bit embarrassed, likely having read some of Stanley's loose thoughts just now.
‘I dunno. You boss me around and all that, but you always make me feel like I'm a real person. ...One that you hate sometimes,’ he gave the ceiling a smirk that soon softened to a genuine smile, 'but it still... it means a lot.'
“Th-that’s quite- well, of course I...”
‘I just mean, thanks for not... uhh, i dunno object-ifying me?’
“Stanley… I don’t think that means- I mean that pronunciation isn’t… although, I suppose, in the purest sense of the word, rather than how it’s usually intended, it does-”
‘Oh look!’
“Hmm, what is it?”
‘I think they’re back on good terms now?’
The angry shaking had indeed stopped, and the loud whirring dulled to a warm hum once more.
‘...Huh, look at that. The steam coming off of them is in the shape of hearts now, that’s cute. I guess they’re getting back to the hot and heavy stuff again,' he joked. At least he hoped he was joking.
“This can’t be happening to me. That’s it, I’m restarting the game.”
‘Narrator, come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket,’ Stanley said as he left the bucket and copier to their- whatever. He was pretty sure they were just kissing and cuddling. Really! It's fine! Don't worry about it.
The Narrator gently closed the door behind him as Stanley continued on through the second communal office space, stopping at one of the desks and taking a seat.
“I suppose we can find something fun to do without the bucket.”
‘Oh! Let’s go see if we can find a lover for the Line™ !’
“You are not cupid, Stanley!! And not everything has to be in love!! Just because you and I have some strange sort of- ah, uhm…”
‘You and I have some strange sort of what?’ Was the Narrator about to say "relationship"? And if so did he mean-
“B-because you and I have a strange sort of… uhm, strange sort of capacity to be swayed to feel those sorts of mushy, nonsense feelings- well, that doesn’t mean everything else in the parable does!”
‘You’re in love? With who? Yourself?’ he laughed. Narrator had a big ego but the self hate in that man may have out weighed it enough that the joke couldn't even land properly to be honest. But the part about the Narrator having ever honestly found love... well, it gave Stanley a certain tinge of pain that came with the thought that he- uhh, the thought that there was maybe more to the Narrator’s life than he knew about. That was all. Just an odd thought, that one.
One thing he knew for certain, though, was that the Narrator was very lonely, but could he have still had someone out there who made him feel that way?
It was just, maybe Stanley had always hoped that...
“Hoped that what?”
‘N-Nothing! Nothing! Stop listening to my thoughts for a second, jeez!!! I’m busy thinking to myself. Anyway, are you also saying you think I feel love? Like what… for my wife? I barely know anything about her aside from the fact that she’s not as real as me! Or… that I’m not as fictional as her anymore. Honestly, at this point I know more about you than anyone or anything I've ever known. Or thought I've known, I guess.’
“I’m not sure what this conversation is even about anymore,” he lied, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Let’s move along, Stanley.”
No.
The office worker stood from his seat and stared up at the ceiling, determination in his eyes.
“Stanley, are you listening to me? Why are you looking at me like that?”
‘… You’re the bucket to my copier,’ he finally thought.
“Wha- what!?”
‘Is it the same for you or- or not?’ He dug his fingernails into his balled fists- nails now pinching at the skin of his palms to distract from the anxiety that so suddenly hit him.
This was so stupid, but what better way to end his worries, right? Just ask him. And do it in the same way he did everything else in his life- the dumbest way possible.
“I- I’m not quite sure what you mean?”
‘You know what I mean. Am I the copier to your bucket? If not, just tell me now.’
…
“Stanley, we can’t- well, I mean... we… Oh, this is ridiculous!!”
The office worker took a deep breath. Okay, that was his answer. It was unfortunate and he figured he must've read some of the Narrator's more risqué jokes and dialogue over the years as being more targeted than it actually was, but oh well. He tried to hide his disappointment and embarrassment with his usual bland expression and gave a shrug. He then made his way to the door to continue on as if none of this had ever happened.
“Hmph... ughh,”
He stopped when he heard the Narrator groan.
“It pains me to ask this in a realistic sense but, am I really… the bucket to your copy machine?”
Stanley stared at the ceiling for a moment, bafflement lining his features. He then nodded.
“Well, I suppose… I should just be honest then.”
The office worker waited with bated breath.
“First of all... I must say, it's very big of you to give me the role of the bucket in this rather uninspired little scenario of yours. Even if your imagination is somewhat shoddy, casting me as the bucket is still quite an honor and I thank you for that. For once, you've made a rare correct decision.”
Stanley rolled his eyes.
"Secondly," his voice lulled to a mumbled whisper, "you are, uhm. Yes, that. To me."
‘So... you are in love with me?’
“Stanleyyy," he whined, "why are you doing this? Why here? Why now? This is terrible, horrible storytelling! Do you have no shame at all? No eye for romance? You couldn't profess your love in a more extravagant interesting way?”
The office worker would have argued, would have chided the Narrator for critiquing something as anxiety inducing as a love confession, but... he was a little tired today, so he just shrugged and thought, 'It's kinda funny, at least.’
“Is all of this just a game to you, Stanley?”
‘… I mean… we are literally in a video game?”
The Narrator sighed.
‘I really would like to kiss you, though.’ Stanley looked down to hide his blush, noticing a loose button on his shirt he nervously plucked at it. ‘That’s real. The way I feel about you is real.’
All went quiet for nearly a full minute. That spike of painful anxiety nearly hit Stanley once more when-
His companion finally spoke again. His voice was even more of a whisper now but he spoke with hesitation, “Kiss… you… you really want to kiss me?”
‘Duh, idiot!’ Any and all shyness melted away at the office worker's impatience, and... the ache he felt at the Narrator thinking for one second that Stanley hadn't meant what he said. His companion could be so stupid sometimes, after all, this was hardly the first time Stanley had thought about something like this about the man.
"Oh I'm the stupid one?! Well! Forgive me for never knowing when your thoughts are actually legitimate wants and not just some daydream-y nonsense like usual."
Stanley sighed, his lips quirked up in the smallest bit of a smile as he reiterated, ‘Narrator, I’m in love with you.'
All was quiet once more.
Had it really always been this easy to shut the Narrator up? Stanley should have told him how he felt a long time ago.
The office worker was getting impatient again, though, so he gestured at the ceiling. 'And you...’ he thought with a gentle sort of teasing.
“Of course I- I mean... I, uhm, oh this is just so much all at once Stanley!”
‘Narry.’
“Yes! Fine! Alright! I’m in love with you! I am... deeply, upsettingly, wholeheartedly in love with you,” he groaned with much annoyance.
Stanley gave him a big smile and a double thumbs up. ‘Sweet! Let’s kiss!’ He began to eye the ceiling searchingly, then looked around the room. ‘Hmm… how do I- ?’
The office worker jumped up onto a nearby desk then leaned up and tried his damnedest to reach the ceiling with his lips.
“Are you- Stanley, are you quite serious right now?!”
Stanley’s only response was a bunch of light little smoochy noises as he continued, still trying to reach the ceiling.
“Stanley! I’m not literally in the ceiling! Or do you think... I am the ceiling?”
The office worker relaxed his lips, ‘How the hell should I know? How else do you kiss a voice?’
“… I might find this endearing if it wasn’t so incredibly stupid-”
He was suddenly interrupted by a loud mechanical shriek, followed by a jarring sort of crashing sound that echoed throughout the office.
‘What was that?’ Stanley looked to the closed door that lead back to the other office space where he had left the bucket and copier.
“Perhaps, it’s better if we don’t know.”
Stanley ignored him and made his way to the door. He grabbed the handle, ‘Come on! Open it!’
With a weary sigh the Narrator complied.
When Stanley opened the door he found the room covered in a light fog of smoke. There was a smell of burnt… rubber or plastic? And certainly burnt metal.
He coughed as he made his way in, swatting the dark clouds from the air. When the smoke finally dissipated some, there sat the bucket- a good bit damaged. And under it…
‘The copier. It’s… dead. They're both dead.’
Large pieces of the machine laid strewn about in piles on the floor- burnt to hell with that dented burnt up bucket on top of the largest piece.
“My God,” the Narrator whispered in awe. “Have they killed each other in fit of hate? Or was… was their love too much? Was their love even stronger than their hate? Hmm, well, either way, I suppose you can say it sadly looks as though they've both… kicked the bucket,” he chuckled.
Stanley shook his head, trying to give a look of disapproval as he bit back the laugh that threatened to escape his lips.
He quickly sobered up when he looked back down at the bucket and copier- both burnt, damaged beyond repair.
And thinking on the Narrator’s words- had their love been too strong?
What if-
‘What if… this happens to us?’
“What do you mean?”
‘What if us getting together causes the game to crash? Like, if during some “alone time together” we got so into it that…’
“… All of our time is ‘alone time together’!! And what do you mean ’into it’? Into what? Unless you mean... do you mean- S-Stanley!!!”
‘Hey, I could definitely imagine us going at it so hard we crash the game.’
“I’m- I-” he groaned and it almost sounded like he had even put his head in his hands to hide his embarrassment. “This is not a conversation we will be having after we only just confessed our feelings for each other not more than five minutes ago.”
‘But seriously… what if we crashed the game? What if... even us just touching crashed the game?’
The thought was sad and a bit frightening.
What if... he could never have that closeness, not just deep intimacy, or sweet chaste kisses- but couldn’t even touch his companion without destroying the game? But then, even if he could never touch the Narrator, he still longed for his annoying companion’s presence- that was what he needed most, to be honest. He shuddered as he suddenly remembered the Epilogue. To think if they were parted like that again, but truly forever this time...
They were video game characters after all, so would they even have an after life? Or was it just him who was a video game character and the Narrator something else? Would they share the same after life if they got one at all?
To think that something like that could happen. Never again would he hear that voice he so loved to disobey. Never again would they have their little spats that gave Stanley so much to look forward to every reset. Never again would-
“Stanley,” the Narrator interrupted his painful train of thought, “I don’t quite know how to break this to you... but if the game crashed- as it absolutely has before- it would simply reset everything like it usually does. That is literally the entire point of our game! Of our lives! That we are stuck in this godforsaken loop for all eternity!”
…
‘Oh yeah!!!’
“Don’t smile about that!”
‘Come on, Narry!! Let’s crash the game!!!’
“What!? Do you mean…”
Stanley blushed deep red, a doofy smile lined his lips as he nodded eagerly.
“A-ah, oh!” the Narrator’s voice came out in an embarrassed, but excited sort of squeak before he finally gathered himself, “Let's… Ahem!!! Let’s get back on track and we can… well, we can see where the night takes us. If you behave and listen to me, then perhaps I’ll come down there for a proper kiss or... what have you.”
Stanley bounced with excitement as he nodded and made his way to the door-
'Wait.' He stopped.
“Oh, what now?”
He looked back at the bucket and copier, ‘First, can you restart the game so they can get all refreshed and ready for round two?’
“There is something terribly wrong with you.”
‘You wrote me, so if there's something wrong with me, then it’s because there’s something wrong with you.’
“… You have diverged so far from your origins, Stanley. Don’t put your nonsensical attitude on me!”
The office worker just smiled.
“Though… I suppose there truly must be something wrong with me if I... do indeed feel some sort of sympathy towards them.”
Stanley looked at the bucket and copier and nodded. ‘They hate each other and they’re in love with each other. Now that’s some special kind of true love.’
“A very disturbed sort of ‘true love’, yes.”
The office worker nodded with a mischievous grin. ‘I bet we can be even worse.’
“Are we not already?” the Narrator said with a light sort of teasing that made Stanley want to kiss him all the more.
Their lives could be very painful at times, but most of the time he found that their lives were just incredibly strange and silly and stupid, and he loved it. ...And if that warm, barely hidden, chuckle of the Narrator's was anything to go by, he was certain his companion loved it too.