The Narrator went quiet. The office hummed with the sound of phantom air conditioning. Stanley sat, perfectly still, finally alone. He had never been happier. Then, he reached out and pressed '8'. "," the voice boomed. "Oh, you absolute bastard ," the Narrator whispered.

Stanley continued to stare. A single pixel on the screen flickered.

Stanley did not move. He adjusted his glasses. He looked at his watch, which had no hands.

"Stanley?" the Narrator asked, his voice echoing through the empty office. "Are you quite alright? The door on the left is right there. It’s open. It’s welcoming. It’s practically begging for your presence."

"Oh, for heaven’s sake," the Narrator sighed, the sound of ruffling papers audible in the void. "We’re doing this again, are we? The 'Silent Protagonist Rebellions' phase. Very original, Stanley. I’m sure the audience is on the edge of their seats, wondering if you’ll sit back down at desk 427 and press '8' until your fingers bleed."

Stanley sat down. He did not press '8'. He simply stared at the monitor.