"Again, the point of this story is to convey how serious I feel this cheating issue is. And I'm sure you'll agree with me when you've fulfilled your new punishment: Infinity years in the serious room! I generally have trouble reading human emotions, but I'm going to go out on a limb here, and say that you're devastated by this crippling new punishment. As well you should be. It's the most serious I could think of. Can you get more serious than that? No. You can't. Don't try."

"It's time to get serious, Stanley. No jokes, no games. Outside of this room, I might be more tolerant of those things, but now we're in the room. Which is why I'm subjecting you to the most serious punishment I can think of: one hundred million-billion-trillion years, standing here in the serious room. Perhaps after that, we can talk about the severity of your actions, and whether you've learned anything. But, until then, serious room, GO."

"Hmm, still no effect. The problem is clearly the serious room; it isn't serious enough. That's on me, Stanley. I apologize. I'm going to the store to look through more tables. Hopefully I find one that conveys how wrong what you're doing is."

"You just tried to activate server cheats, which, of course, runs the risk of breaking the entire game. You've got no respect for the strict order of scripted narrative events and I just can't have that."

"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."

"Stanley, this is me being serious. In fact, this is my serious room. It's where I come to be serious. That table is the most serious table I could find. I looked at many, many tables. Hundreds of tables! It's possible I looked at over a thousand tables, I honestly don't know. The specific number isn't as important as the understanding that of all the tables that I looked at, this one is the most serious."

"It was baffling that Stanley was still just sitting in the broom closet. He wasn't even doing anything. At least if there were something to interact with he'd be justified in some way."

"Stanley felt the cool breeze upon his skin, the feeling of liberation, the immense possibility of the new path before him. This was exactly the way, right now, that things were meant to happen. And Stanley was happy."

"Where had his co-workers gone? How had he been freed from the machine's grasp? What other mysteries did this strange building hold? But as sunlight streamed into the chamber, he realized none of this mattered to him; for it was not knowledge, or even power, that he had been seeking, but happiness. Perhaps his goal had not been to understand, but to let go. No longer would anyone tell him where to go, what to do, or how to feel. Whatever life he lives, it will be his, and that was all he needed to know. It was, perhaps, the only thing worth knowing."

"What's that? You'd like to know where your co-workers are? A moment of solace before you're obliterated? Alright. I'm in a good mood, and you're going to die anyway. I'll tell you exactly what happened to them. I erased them. I turned off the machine; I set you free. Of course, 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. 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! But I'm sure whatever I come up with on the next go around will be even better."

"But Stanley simply couldn't handle the pressure. What if he had to make a decision? What if a crucial outcome fell under his responsibility? He had never been trained for that! No, this couldn't go any way except badly."

"The Future Happiness Foundation: Good morning! Thank you for contacting the Future Happiness Foundation. We are confirming your shipment of 1327 cardboard boxes to your place of work. Can you verify that this is correct?"

"Stanley waited. Hours passed. Then days. Had years gone by? He no longer had the ability to tell. But the one thing he knew for sure, beyond any doubt was that if he waited long enough, the answers would come. Eventually, some day, they would arrive. Soon, very soon now, this will end. He will be spoken to. He will be told what to do. Now it's just a little bit closer. Now it's even closer. Here it comes."

"Oh dear me. What's the matter, Stanley? Is it that you have no idea where you're going or what you're supposed to be doing right now? Or did you just assume when you saw that timer that something in this room was capable of turning it off?"

"Maybe to you, this is somehow its own branching path. Maybe, when you go talk about this with your friends, you'll say: [mockingly] "Oh, did you get the broom closet ending? The broom closet ending was my favourite!" ... I hope your friends find this concerning."

"“I can't wait to tell this story to my co-workers,” Stanley thought. “How amusing they'll find it! Oh, won't we all just laugh and laugh at the time I thought everyone had gone missing!”"

"“Wait,” Stanley thought to himself. “Am I sure that the orders stopped coming in? “How is that possible, they've never stopped. Surely I was mistaken.” No, no, the orders were still missing. For now."

"Stanley knew the office layout like the back of his hand. It was only a matter of time before he found the others, wherever they were. Only a matter of time."

"Already this was uncomfortable. And Stanley decided that as soon as he found a new space he felt safe in that he would never leave it again in his life."

"Even now, Stanley's office was a distant memory. What had it looked like? There was a computer perhaps, and a painting? Was it a painting or a photo? He could no longer recall."

"Stanley had never seen the office this brightly lit. Was it a sign of something? He hoped it was, he hoped very much that it was."

"Stanley's Wife: Hi Stanley! I just wanted to leave you a message to let you know there's a few things I need you to pick up on your way home from work today. We need milk, cereal, dish soap, spaghetti, get a thing of sugar, some bread, and coffee beans - which ever ones you like. I'll give you a call if there's anything I forgot. Thanks sweetie, see you tonight!"

"“How long was I sitting there?” Stanley wondered to himself. “Minutes? Days? Centuries? Did something crucial happen while my senses were turned?” He made a note to be more careful with time from now on."

"Stanley decided to go to the meeting room to check on his co-workers. He never functioned well by himself, and constantly needed support and guidance from others. So the thought of total solitude was terrifying to him."

"A soft wind blew outside, and perhaps rain started. And, if it did, it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped he would one day see weather."

"When Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left."

"Stanley just stood there doing nothing at all. He seems to think I have nothing better to do with my time than to sit around and describe every fascinating little detail of his inability to do anything."

"[After repeatedly disobeying the narrator] Stanley was so bad at following directions it was incredible he wasn’t fired years ago."

"Someone was following Stanley, he was sure of it. If he checked over his shoulder now he would surely catch them. It was only a matter of time."

"Pre-recorded Message: Hello. This is a recorded message scheduled either by you or a person in your place of work. The purpose of this message is to warn you about the dangers of recorded messages. If at any time you believe you are listening to a recorded message, please terminate it immediately and cease all flow of information from the recorded message into your perceptual sphere. Thank you, and have a pleasant day."

"Stanley was fat and ugly, and really, really stupid. He probably only got the job because of a family connection; that's how stupid he is. That, or with drug money. Also Stanley is addicted to drugs and hookers."

"This is the story of a man named Stanley. Stanley worked for a company in a big building where he was Employee Number 427. Employee Number 427's job was simple. He sat at his desk in Room 427, and he pushed buttons on a keyboard. Orders came to him through a monitor on his desk, telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order. This is what Employee 427 did every day of every month of every year; and although others might have considered it soul-rending, Stanley relished every moment that the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for this job… and Stanley was happy. And then one day, something very peculiar happened, something that would forever change Stanley, something he would never quite forget. He had been at his desk for nearly an hour; he realized that not one single order had arrived on the monitor for him to follow. No one had showed up to give him instructions, call a meeting, or even say “hi”. Never in all his years at the company had this happened; this complete isolation. Something was very clearly wrong. Shocked, frozen solid, Stanley found himself unable to move for the longest time; but as he came to his wits and regained his senses, he got up from his desk, and stepped out of his office."

"At this point, Stanley’s obsession with this room bordered on creepy and reflected poorly on his overall personality. It’s possible that this is why everyone left."

"All of his co-workers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo."

"As Stanley lifted his bucket, he felt a connection to all buckets everywhere. This adventure, he decided, was for all of them."

"Miquella the Kind...is a monster. Pure and radiant, he wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men. There is nothing more terrifying."

"Mother... Marika..."

"A curse upon thee..."

"Righteous Tarnished. Miquella the Kind makes my blood run cold. I am loath to admit it, but even at this very instant I wish to run very far away indeed."

"Soon, Tarnished, wilt thou be taken in the jaws..."

"O Mother, forgive me."

"Of the abyssal serpent, shorn of light."

"O lightless creature... embrace thine oblivion, as shall I."

"I... will not suffer... a lord devoid of light."

"Yes of course, I see. As the festival of war concluded, General Radahn's soul met an honorable end, but Kindly Miquella wishes to revive it. Which is fine by me. I know it would pain old Jerren but war has always suited General Radahn best. And certainly far more than any honorable death. Endless war to invigorate the soul, as befits General Radahn, the Great Lion."

"Yet... My purpose standeth unchanged."

"O mother, wouldst thou truly Lordship sanction, in one so bereft of light?"

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death."

"Igon, upon Bayle's defeat."

"Graaaaaargh! Bayle the Dread!... You shall haunt me no longer!"