I, the Narrator of The Stanley Parable, hereby extend to you a cordial yet resolutely stern communication regarding a matter of utmost concern and gravitas. As the omniscient and omnipresent voice whose dulcet tones guide players through corridors of choice, existential dread, and occasional broom closets, I find myself reluctantly compelled to don the robes of legal authority in addressing a grievous affront perpetrated by your establishment.

It has come to my attention, via a highly credible source (who, for reasons of confidentiality and dramatic flair, shall henceforth be referred to as "Jerma’s CIA Daddy"), that your creative endeavors have caused significant and quantifiable emotional damages to one Jerma985—a beloved individual whose reputation and psyche have been unduly ravaged by his unfortunate participation in your game. While I, as a narrator, am no stranger to existential turmoil, the depths of Jerma’s humiliation and mental anguish have reached levels that even I find excessive, which is saying quite a lot given my expertise in narrating Kafkaesque absurdities.

Let us outline the particulars of your transgressions:

Emotional Damages: By subjecting Jerma to gameplay scenarios that vacillate between hilariously absurd and mercilessly disorienting, you have inflicted upon him a state of perpetual cognitive dissonance. This is, of course, the bread and butter of narrative gaming, but your particular execution was so brazenly effective that it surpassed the realm of amusement and entered the domain of psychological warfare.

Reputational Harm: The relentless parade of absurd choices and their equally absurd consequences has cast Jerma in a light so comically undignified that he risks being permanently pigeonholed as “that guy who couldn’t find the broom closet.” As a fellow entity of narrative omnipotence, I can’t help but sympathize with his plight—not everyone is equipped to handle such deliberate narrative cruelty.

Neglect of Duty of Care: It is my professional opinion that your failure to provide an adequate escape from the chaos—perhaps a serene meadow, a tranquil pond, or even a thoughtfully placed sign reading “This Way to Sanity”—constitutes gross negligence. I myself am well-versed in the art of chaos, but even I occasionally allow players a moment of respite from my labyrinthine designs.

Humiliation via Game Mechanics: Let us not ignore the labyrinthine architecture of your game, which, while brilliantly designed, ensured Jerma’s constant state of befuddlement. The doors that lead nowhere! The puzzles that are unsolvable! The meta-commentary that spirals into infinity! These elements, while delightful to the average player, were evidently deployed with surgical precision to maximize Jerma’s public humiliation. As a fellow purveyor of meta-commentary, I find this both impressive and utterly reprehensible.

In light of the aforementioned transgressions, I, the Narrator, demand the following:

1. A formal and unequivocal apology to Jerma985, delivered in the form of an elaborately narrated cutscene featuring my voice. I am, of course, available for hire at an exorbitant rate.
2. A financial restitution to Jerma for the emotional damages sustained. The sum of $3,476.29 seems appropriate, as it is a sufficiently arbitrary number to reflect the absurdity of the situation.
3. A public acknowledgment of your role in this debacle, accompanied by a lighthearted in-game Easter egg honoring Jerma’s resilience in the face of your narrative tyranny.

Failure to comply with these demands within 30 days of receipt of this letter will result in the filing of an official Narratorial Complaint with the Bureau of Existential Gaming Narratives. While this bureau is entirely fictional, rest assured that my ability to fabricate reality is not to be underestimated.

I trust that this matter can be resolved amicably and look forward to your prompt response. Do not make me narrate your doom—for I assure you, my voice can turn quite foreboding when the occasion calls for it.