The Real Confusion Ending: (Stanley X Narrator)

Chapter 1 » I Know You're Scared (of the Unknown)

Scrambling.

That's what Stanley was doing: scrambling—attempting to interact with just about anything he could get his hands on within the countdown room.

The fluorescent buttons numbered one through five,

the colored ones with the 'symbols' on them,

the fail-safe panel,

the voltage control stations—

but of course, as the Narrator had expected, it was useless. Sure, some doors had opened up at the beginning, but it was only temporary (and simply for teasing.

Heck, the one on the catwalk didn't even go anywhere).

The Narrator continued his monologue. It wasn't the first time, of course, and he'd managed to get it memorized after the seventy-fifth time.

("How long until detonation, then? Hm...let's say, um...two minutes.")

The panic on Stanley's face had disappeared within seconds, and instead, irritation had taken its place.

'Why don't you give me any actual advice once we get to this point?' Stanley wondered in frustration. And at this question, the Narrator simply laughed. Ha ha, because you see Stanley, it's not as if I'm responsible for you ending up here. No, no I had been generous enough to give you the choice for freedom.

Your actions are the only thing that have brought you to this point, Stanley. I'm simply here for the show.

'You're pathetic' Stanley spat (internally, of course), however, the Narrator simply ignored him, as Stanley continued to scurry around with no clear directive, and continued to waste what little time he had left. Like an idiot.

Stanley halted in his scrambling then, perhaps at the Narrator's remark, though who could really say for sure?

("One minute...maybe try the fail-safe button again? I'm sure it must have some role in deactivating the system."

At this, Stanley proceeded to raise his hand, and...oh my Stanley, how vulgar.)

"Forty-two seconds, Stanley. Best hurry it up down there."

Though Stanley had instead taken up a leisurely pace as the countdown pressed on. And with every second that passed, he simply inched ever closer to his inevitable demise. Maybe he would spend the time he had now looking back on his life, perhaps reminiscing happier times spent with his wife and kids—

Stanley kicked one of the walls at the suggestion.

'I don't have a wife. Or kids.' He thought. 'You know this.'

"Ah, well then Stanley, I'm sure it will come to you as a great surprise when I inform you that you DO—!"

Stanley kicked the wall once more.

It appeared that this was a relatively touchy subject for Stanley, and so the Narrator held back from delving any further into the details of his personal life.

But it wasn't as if any of it would matter anyway. The entire building was about to explode in just thirty seconds, and there was no possible way that a man such as Stanley, would be able to somehow find a way to shut it down.

It was only a matter of time now--

...

Suddenly, the sirens had stopped, and the room fell prey to a very unfamiliar silence. Even the Narrator had fallen (temporarily) quiet at the sudden outcome, as unbeknownst to Stanley, this was not part of the story.

(Or, well, now it technically was—but it surely hadn't been a part of the script...)

"...Stanley," the Narrator started, "...nothing in this room was actually supposed to be capable of turning off the timer...how did you—"

The Narrator then looked over to find that Stanley had somehow managed to push the fail-safe button. With both hands firmly pushed down onto its surface, the screen above it now read: "Failsafe Initiated; Failsafe Is Online".

Even Stanley looked bewildered at what had just happened...

The timer had froze.

The sirens were off.

The music was gone.

And then the lights went out.

'What's going on...?' Stanley wondered. 'Did the game restart?'

Though the Narrator wasn't quite sure himself. None of this was supposed to be happening, after all, and yet...

As sunlight streamed into the chamber, both the Narrator and Stanley began to wonder if they had somehow ended up at the freedom ending.

But when approaching the door through which the sunlight was streaming in, instead of endless meadows of trees and blue skies, the two were met with some sort of attached parking lot, inside which sat a small row of cars, a vending machine, and some miscellaneous boxes stashed away in a corner...

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Conveniently, one of the car's had had its doors unlocked when they'd found it, its keys resting on the driver's seat.

(They'd found some change in the glove compartment as well, and Stanley had finally gotten around to finding out what kind of "Cold Drinks" were actually dispensed from the vending machine.

Apparently, it was just water.)

Stanley carefully backed the car out of the parking lot once they were buckled inside, though the shock of everything that had just occurred had still left them speechless as they drove through a bustling metropolis that had apparently always resided right outside of the office...

"Where are we going, Stanley?" The Narrator asked softly, though in simply meeting Stanley's gaze, he realized that Stanley had just as good an idea as he did...