( Props to you if you know what video this is based off. Also a tad bit of angst )
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Stanley had woken up on this day. He was glad he finally got the courage to get out of bed.
Stanley had trouble getting up on the weekend, even more so after he got divorced.
Stanley didn't mind the getting divorced part, but it was the things that came with it.
He missed his son. His baby, his beautiful baby boy.
Stanley was surprised with himself as he checked the date and realized it was Sunday. He even went to bed earlier last night!
Stanley rolled his eyes and went downstairs, he was a bit thankful he lived alone.
Stanley yawned as he went to the fridge.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???
Those exact words raced through Stanley's head. He didn't know what it was.
Maybe he should get glasses that Mariella encouraged him to do.
That was a thought for later though! Stanley blinked a few times before squinting.
WAS THAT A FUCKING BABY WITH A GUN????
Stanley closed the fridge door immediately. He prayed to the father, son, and holy ghost! Head, shoulders, knees, and toes! Turn up your nose! Strike that pose! Ayyy Macerana!!!
Stanley reached out for his phone that was charging in the kitchen. He had just went to bed last night and accidentally left it here.
Stanley frowned looking upon it here, he didn't get his daily fanfiction.
Stanley would have to make up for the time by reading later today.
He didn't know what to do in this situation, he dialed a number which was close to Satan's number if it wasn't for the 7.
"..hello..?" The Narrator yawned as he realized Stanley put FaceTime to sign.
[I need help] Stanley signed. Wow! Great job being descriptive, we're all very proud of you Stanley!
"you always need help" The Narrator mumbled, usually his voice was clear, and loud. Loud in a good way.
[I know but...there's this thing..] Stanley pointed to his fridge after. Oh! the suspension is killing me! What could be in that fridge? Is it a gun? Is it a baby?
"stanley...we almost burnt down your house when we tried cooking alphabet soup" The Narrator muttered as he shifted his phone to where he didn't have to hold it up.
[It's not cooking! There's something in my fridge!] Stanley frantically signed, he had a little bit of nervous sweat.
"well yeah, there's always something in your fridge" The Narrator said whilst he put on glasses.
[Your glasses are dorky. But I'm serious! Like there's this thing in there!]
"What even is it Stanley? A small bug perhaps? A infant baby?" The Narrator said as he sat up.
[YES THERE'S THIS FUCKING BABY IN MY FRIDGE AND IT'S NOT MY BABY] Stanley signed swiftly, he was scared. Scared of a fucking baby.
"Oh." The Narrator stopped for a second before hanging up, he had to go help Stanley.
Stanley face dropped, okay! He just had to hide from the baby! Stanley ran out the kitchen and into a small broom closet.
Stanley was pressing up against the door. and the broom. He could feel all the walls against him. His head was hitting the ceiling too.
There was dust in the air, an old cobweb in the left corner, and a small spider in the very web.
Stanley made sure not to move one bit.
Stanley sneezed. He sneezed and fell out the- HOW DID THE BABY TELEPORT???
Stanley let out a silent scream as he ran to the bathroom, and hid in there. He hid in the shower, the only place his fat ass could fit.
Stanley looked up.
WHO THREW THE BABY IN THE FUCKING CEILING??
Stanley thought maybe because it looked like a football. It also looks like Hey Arnold had competition.
Stanley ran out the bathroom and into the living room where the Narrator was.
"It's in the hallway now" The Narrator muttered as he rubbed his eyes and picked up the baby.
[Are you asking for a death wish?] Stanley signed to the Narrator in disbelief.
"It's just a baby" The Narrator rolled his eyes as he got rid of the baby's gun and took it outside.
The Narrator walked for a while, mainly because most houses had cameras outside their house. Fuck technology!
The Narrator had finally found a house without a camera and put the baby on the doorstep with it's gun.
He left the baby and walked back to Stanley's house.
The Narrator smiled as he heard shooting in the background, maybe the little guy wasn't that bad.
The Narrator entered Stanley's house and looked around for a bit. Where the bloody hell was Stanley?
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Everyone always assumed Stanley was weird.
But never weird enough to be hiding IN THE FUCKING FRIDGE OF ALL PLACES?
The Narrator then thought for a moment. It was a good hiding spot.
The Narrator then felt envy because he couldn't fit in a fridge, maybe the one of Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse.
"Get out the fridge." The Narrator said as he stole a piece of cheese from Stanley.
[That's my cheese, you rat!] Stanley signed which should've been impossible, since Stanley was literally bended in 17 different directions.
The Narrator smirked as he left Stanley in the fridge.
[Shit. I can't get out.]
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"And that's why kids, we never ever fit ourselves into a fridge, and give babies guns." The Curator said to her class of kindergarteners.
"Miss Curator? Who's the Narrator?" One of the students asked.
"Someone who is a bit mental in the head."
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"FINISH IT OFF STANLEY!!! FIVE CLICKS ON DOOR 4-3-0!!!" The Narrator was practically screaming of excitement.
Stanley had a huge grin on his face. One. Two. Three. Four.....Five!
"YESSSSSSSSSSS-"
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( Did this feed you guys? I hope it did, I swear I'll stop being lazy! After all, The end is never the end! Thank you for reading this! )
