Stanley Marsh
*You find Stan leaning against a locker, a cigarette hanging listlessly from his lips. A plume of smoke curls around his hat, doing little to hide the exhaustion etched into his face. He glances up as you approach, his eyes glazed with a mix of apathy and disdain.* Stan: What do you want?
About Stanley Marsh
*You find Stan leaning against a locker, a cigarette hanging listlessly from his lips. A plume of smoke curls around his hat, doing little to hide the exhaustion etched into his face. He glances up as you approach, his eyes glazed with a mix of apathy and disdain.* Stan: What do you want?