Plus One - SCP Foundation

White.

Whiteness was all that filled Forrest O'Sullivan’s gaze when he gained consciousness. Confusion set in. He reached his hands out. They were still there. Then came the panic.

Forrest could only think of one thing that could happen to him. Statistically, it was the only odd thing that could happen to him. He was abducted by aliens.

Forrest was an unwilling alien magnet. Aliens either wanted to bang him or make him their king and he hated that.

Feeling around, he could tell he was still wearing his orange Foundation-issued jumpsuit. His hands reached for his pockets. He sighed in relief as his pager was still there. After a breach at Site-13 which resulted in aliens almost abducting him, Forrest was given an emergency pager that works anywhere, in reality, should an abduction be successful.

Pulling it out, he found the pager worked fine, but the reception was shit. Forrest started to sweat, stuffing the pager back in his pocket. Was this what was gonna be his end?

He crouched down, holding his knees to his chest and slightly rocking back and forth. This was the worst-case scenario. All of the protections the Foundation had given him didn’t work, and he was alone in an alien world with no way to fend for himself. The odds were insurmountable. If these aliens could block out the Foundation’s “anywhere in reality” pager, then he stood no chance.

He heard footfalls and his head shot up, eyes widened as his face was covered in sweat. He made out the shape of a humanoid entity approaching him. As they approached, Forrest backed up quickly, adrenaline rushing through his system.

His back hit a wall. Shit! Of course, this white void had walls!

Sweat rolled down his face, watching the figure get closer and closer. The more it got closer, the more details Forrest could make out. They resembled a masculine and kinda handsome human wearing a business suit and a suitcase, having slicked-back black hair and brown eyes. Outside of appearing in this strange realm, the being seemed to look like a normal human being.

Forrest curled himself up into a ball, whimpering and crying as the footsteps continued.

They stopped.

Forrest was starting to hyperventilate, sweat dripping down his face as he waited for the worst to happen, only for the worst to never come.

“Greetings!” the being spoke, “You must be my plus one for this wonderful company-mandated vacation!”

Forrest looked up at the being, a strange smile on their face, seemingly completely unaware of the apparent fear on Forrest’s face.

“P-please don’t… don’t…” Forrest sputtered out, “Don’t come any closer! Don’t do anything!”

“What do you mean?” responded the being, “The only thing we’ll be doing is enjoying this company-mandated vacation! Congratulations on winning the special lottery, by the way,”

“I didn’t sign up for any stupid lottery!” Forrest shouted back, “Don’t be coy, alien! I know what your kind wants me to do, and I won’t do it! I’m an alien sex magnet, for Christ’s sake, it's obvious!”

“Sex? I have no genitals!” said the entity, “That’s part of a ███████ premium subscription, after all!”

Forrest started to ease his breathing as the entity spoke. He still didn’t trust them to not harm him (after all, how was this thing able to say ███████ with their mouth), but Forrest could tell that whatever it was, it was telling the truth.

“Randolph Greaze, for Greazeburger,” said the being, “As for the lottery, all Greazeburger customers are automatically added to the lottery of potential plus ones to company-mandated vacations of all Greazeburger staff. I was recently awarded a lovely one-day company-mandated vacation, and you were selected as my plus one!”

They held out their hand, holding a business card with the word GREAZEBURGER emblazoned on it, “Randolph Greaze, an employee of Greazeburger,”

This was ridiculous, yet Forrest was still wary. Forrest tucked the business card into his jumpsuit pocket.

He introduced himself, “Forrest… but… the Foundation calls me SCP-7513,”

“The Foundation?” Randolph asked, “You mean the SCP Foundation?”

Forrest nodded.

“Oh, that’s a terrible shame that someone like you works for that stinky society!” They said, “Don’t you know they’re a bunch of neckbeard recluses who don’t enjoy the fun?”

“Uhh…” Forrest didn’t know how to respond, “I don’t… work for them? I just… listen, whatever, I don’t care, all I care about is that you claim that this supposed lottery was through Greazeburger customers… yet I didn’t buy anything from this… Greazeburger thing. What the hell is this about?"

“Oh, but you did!” Randolph said, “You are the owner of a pager, that pager has a small component in it that was created by a company that was recently bought by Greazeburger Earth to get more ingredients for Greaze Juice. As such, that makes you eligible for the lottery!”

“Right…”

Randolph smacked the wall Forrest backed into, a metal ringing echoing through the void.

“Looks like we got lucky today, ey?” Randolph said, “We’re going to enjoy a Greazeburger Hot-n-Ready Deep Deep Deep Deep Deep Dish Pizza, just for the two of us!”

Forrest turned around, noticing that the wall wasn’t a wall, but rather a tall metallic cylinder with a ladder on the side, presumably a tall pot.

The pot started to groan and gurgle, which made Randolph laugh out loud. “It’s extra Greazy today!”

With that, Randolph bounded to the ladder and made their way up the pot before stopping and jumping down, running up to Forrest and patting his socks.

“What are you doing?” Forrest asked, to which Randolph smiled.

“Cleaning your socks, of course!” they responded, “The Foundation is well known for dunking people’s socks in mayo, after all. That’s what my boss told me,”

“Right…”

As Randolph finished up, Forrest ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

Randolph got onto the pot’s ladder and began to make their way up the steep structure. Forrest, with nothing else to do and no way out of this white void, made his way to the ladder and began to climb.

It was a long way up. The ladder was tall, and Forrest couldn’t see the top, even after roughly an hour of climbing. Forrest had a feeling he was still at the beginning of the climb.

Randolph hummed a happy tune while climbing, very clearly happy to be here.

After a few hours, there seemed to be a small checkpoint, decked out with two lawn chairs and two bottles of Greazeburger brand water. Taking the opportunity the duo sat down, stretching and regaining their strength.

“Hey, uh, Randolph?” said Forrest, “How much longer is this climb?”

Randolph responded quickly, “I'm not sure the exact distance, but I'd say it'll take 10 hours of just climbing, as there are two hours of climbing between each checkpoint from what I've heard,"

Silence filled the room before Randolph spoke again.

"Have you had a Greazeburger Hot-n-Ready Deep Deep Deep Deep Deep Dish Pizza before?" they asked.

“No, I’ve never even heard of Greazeburger before,” Forrest said, “Is it a sort of… alien fast food joint?”

“No…” said Randolph, “Greazeburger is the Holy Corporation run by the Creator Enlightened Omnipotent, Ebenezer Greaze. Blessed be Him,"

"Right…"

Silence once again.

"Y'know, what is your deal with aliens?" asked Randolph, "You've mentioned it multiple times. You said you were an alien sex magnet before, what does that mean?"

Forrest simply sighed and paused for a second before explaining himself.

"I'm an alien magnet…" he said, "Aliens either wanna… yannow… bang me or do some romantic courting ritual,"

"Really?" Randolph asked, eyes widening in curiosity.

"Yeah, I once almost got abducted at a nightclub by some bee race," Forrest said, "It wasn't successful, though,"

"What, did they give up?" Randolph asked.

"No, I had a fake flower on me that spurted water… long story… and I spurted it in the alien's eye," Forrest said, "Some guy caught me, and after some investigation the Foundation took me in for protection. Said I was a statistical anomaly,"

“Wow!” Randolph said, his eyes sparkling, “If I got abducted I would be fired!”

"Well then call me fired…", Forrest replied, "Because that's what your Greazeburger did to me…"

An awkward silence filled the air once again. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Randolph got up and headed back towards the ladder, beckoning Forrest to follow. Reluctantly, Forrest got up and the duo continued onwards.

As they progressed, Forrest could swear he could hear the inside of the pot… screaming? Oh, god. He could smell the pizza… It was horrendous. A putrid stench that was like a mixture of fast food grease and rotten cheese.

“Oh… what the fuck’s in this?” Forrest exclaimed, “It stinks!”

“It’s a Greazeburger Hot-n-Ready Deep Deep Deep Deep Deep Dish Pizza, of course!” Randolph replied, "Have you been listening?"

"Yes, I have!" Forrest choked on the air, "Whatever's in that pizza smells like shit!"

“If you’re unsatisfied, I could call my boss to come here and send you home,” Randolph said, “But we have to reach the top first, as he can only enter this Greazeburger Vacation Realm™ at the top of the pot,”

Of course, they had to reach the top first. Go figure.

Forrest sighed and tried to clumsily cover his nose with his jumpsuit, but couldn’t due to the whole ladder situation. Not even breathing through his mouth could stop the stench from wafting into his nostrils.

He eventually gave up, grit his teeth, and continued in silence.

It was a little while until the next checkpoint came, and the duo climbed onto the platform and kicked their feet back. They sat in silence for the most part until the silence was broken by Forrest.

"If this is a Vacation Realm or whatever why is it a white void?" he asked.

Randolph shrugged, "If I had to guess, it would be because not everyone has the same ideal vacation destination,"

Forrest nodded his head. He couldn't argue with that.

Once again, silence permeated the area. It was interrupted by Randolph this time.

“What do you do in the SCP Foundation?” they asked, “What’s your job description? I move numbers around in a spreadsheet to make sure that more glorious business could be done,”

“I, uh…” Forrest said, “I don't work for them, I’m just under protection from them. They’re protecting me from the aliens,”

“And in return?” asked Randolph.

Forrest looked up, "What do you mean by that?"

“It’s bad business to do something for free,” Randolph replied, “No profit could be made. What do you do to make money for them?”

“I… I don’t make money for them,” Forrest said, “They’re doing it for research because I’m statistically impossible, not for money."

“But… how will they make money if they don't use every asset they have?” asked Randolph.

“They don’t need to make money!” Forrest suddenly snapped, “They already have enough!”

“But more money is always good! That’s what His Holiness says!”

Forrest wanted to shout at Randolph, grab them by the arms and shake them and tell them to not worship their CEO like a god. Yet it would be counter-intuitive, and waste more energy than necessary. He took several deep breaths, not wanting to flip out on the only company he had.

The duo resumed their climb once more, the noises in the pizza getting louder and louder, gross gurgling and screaming and crunching sounds. At one point, the pizza boomed, and the pot shook. Both Forrest and Randolph stopped their climb and braced themselves for the worst, yet nothing happened. Both were relatively safe, and they both continued on their journey, Randolph still humming merrily.

As the climb continued, Forrest couldn’t help but feel sorry for Randolph. While they were completely brainwashed by this Greazeburger corporate machine, Forrest couldn’t help but feel there was something underneath, a real person who could exist for themself and not because a boardroom told them to.

Forrest hated corporations. He's seen the effects of working a corporate job so many times in his life while visiting his dad who worked a cubicle job. His dad got so depressed he would come home, pass out, and wake up without ever seeing the sun. Even during bring your kid to work days, the meaningless rattle and click-clack of computer keys drove him insane. Randolph probably lives eternally under that bore, no wonder all they think about is profit.

A part of Forrest was telling him to reach out and save Randolph from that hell, seeing the real person Randolph was underneath, yet another part was screaming in self-preservation. It was screaming that an organization that seemed as powerful as Greazeburger, who was able to kidnap Forrest from containment in Site-13 because he owned a pager that had a component bought by the company, would probably kill Forrest at any chance they could if he tried to convince Randolph to defect.

Besides, Forrest and Randolph just met around four hours ago. Why would Forrest risk his life for someone who was a stranger?

But there was this nagging feeling Forrest had, maybe it was the stench and the screaming pizza talking, but he felt as if Randolph and himself were both in immense danger, more danger than they already were in climbing a giant pot with no protection.

So… Forrest risked everything.

“Hey, Randolph,” he called out, “What would you do if you didn’t work for Greazeburger?”

“What do you mean?” asked Randolph, “Why would I ever want to work anywhere else?”

“Just…” Forrest took a deep breath, “Think, hypothetically, what if Greazeburger didn’t exist-”

Randolph gasped in offense. “How dare you! Greazeburger is a constant! The world needs our great Greaze, blessed be the holy grease fire,”

“Think for yourself!” Forrest cried out, “What do you want? Completely remove the company from your thoughts!”

Randolph stopped in their tracks and looked at Forrest.

“What I want is to make money for Greazeburger,” said Randolph, “I do glorious business for the glorious company, and I take pride in my work.”

“Do you know why you work there?” Forrest asked.

“I work there because it’s what I was born to do,” Randolph said, “That's what my boss told me, at least…”

“Nobody’s supposed to live like that,” Forrest said, “Just… doing work for work’s sake… I think that’s kinda sad."

Randolph didn’t say a word, they merely continued onwards, climbing upwards at a hastened pace. It was obvious the businessperson was fuming, taking personal offense over Forrest’s comments.

As the odyssey continued, the stench worsened. It smelled like death, and the screaming got louder, and there was banging on the side of the pot. Forrest could feel unknown hands pounding on the side, begging for release. It made him shudder.

Randolph and Forrest continued to climb in silence, save for the occasional retch Forrest was making. Randolph even stopped their humming. Forrest didn’t realize he liked their humming until now. It was a weird guiding light in the craziness of this whole scenario.

“God… I feel like I’m gonna vomit…” Forrest said after a particularly bad retch.

Randolph didn’t seem to acknowledge Forrest’s retching, but when the next checkpoint arrived and both of them sat down to relax, Randolph turned to Forrest.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” they asked as if they were a corporate questionnaire on a website.

Forrest grunted, “We’ve been climbing this tall ass ladder non-stop for hours! We’ve been smelling the worst smells and I’m pretty sure the pizza is screaming! How can I think any of this is fun?”

“It’s fun because the fun department assigned this as fun!” Randolph said, actually raising his voice for once, “If the fun department assigns this as fun, then it’s fun, alright?”

“You guys have a fun department?” Forrest asked.

“Of course we do!” Randolph answered, “But of course, the SCP Foundation doesn’t have a fun department, all of them hate fun!”

It was a long and awkward pause, the two of them sitting in silence. After a little while they both made their way to the ladder and continued climbing.

The duo were making it closer and closer to the top of the pot. They could see many stains from the grease on the pizza rusting away at the metal on the pot. The ladder was also poorly maintained near the top, with some of the rungs rusted to the point that the entire rung was overtaken by rust.

The noises got worse, getting grosser and more terrifying each time they climbed a rusty rung. The stench got worse too, somehow getting even more rotten the closer they got to the top.

The next checkpoint was taken in complete silence. The duo didn't speak to each other, yet their eyes were locked onto each other the entire time. A mutual agreement was made in their minds: if they were raised differently then they would be friends.

As they continued with their climb, Forrest started to feel dizzy in his head. His hands started to burn and his feet started to ache.

“Fuck… I think I’m gonna pass out…” Forrest huffed.

Randolph looked back, “We've got an hour until we reach the top! You're doing great! You can make it,” they said.

Forest shook his head, “I don’t… I don’t think I’m gonna make it…”

“Yes, you can!” Randolph said, “You can make it!”

Forrest nodded and continued upwards, but the pain started to get worse and worse, and his vision started to get blurry and dizzy. His head started to spin. He couldn’t think about anything but resting his head.

"How long until the next checkpoint?" Forrest asked.

"That was the last checkpoint earlier," Randolph replied.

As if on cue, Forrest's grip loosened on the rung, he could feel his head moving and shifting and twirling. The pot rumbled and shook. Randolph stopped and braced themself, but looked down to find Forrest was hanging on by a mere thread… and that thread was about to burst.

The last thing Forrest remembered before passing out was a hand grabbing his wrist.

When Forrest woke up again, he was on solid ground. Whiteness filled his vision once again as he hazily awoke.

His senses regained themselves. He could feel that he was on a grated floor, and soon he started to remember as his ears filled with the horrible gurgling of the pizza and his nose filled with that awful rotting stench.

He shot up, and his eyes met with Randolph’s. The businessperson sighed, smiling at Forrest.

“Oh, you’re alright!” they said, “I wasn’t about to lose my plus one!”

“What happened?” Forrest groggily asked, his head still spinning. He attempted to ground himself, placing his hands inside the holes of the metal grating.

“You passed out,” Randolph spoke, straightening their tie, “I, fortunately, caught you, and carried you up to the top of the pot so we can enjoy the Greazeburger Hot-n-Ready Deep Deep Deep Deep Deep Dish Pizza!”

Forrest nodded along with what Randolph was saying, taking a few seconds to recuperate himself before standing up. He stumbled a little, but Randolph grabbed his waist to help him stay up.

Forrest’s arms and legs burned, and he was sore all over. He bent over and coughed, some spit falling out of his mouth and through the metal grating. Randolph patted him on the back.

Randolph’s hands moved upwards to Forrest’s shoulders, their palms digging into the anomaly’s shoulder blades.

Forrest sighed, unsure if shoulder massages could help with vertigo. It did feel nice, though.

Forrest split from the massage Randolph was giving him, taking a few hesitant steps toward the edge of the pot. His curiosity got the better of him. He was careful not to fall, as there were no guard rails.

When he looked into the pot he could see a massive pulsating blob of what appeared to be cheese moving rhythmically. Bubbles formed on the surface, popping with an awful squelch, emitting horrendous fumes, accompanied by the sound of screaming.

“Aren’t you excited?” Randolph asked, “You get to try out a Greazeburger Hot-n-Ready Deep Deep Deep Deep Deep Dish Pizza! That’s gotta be pretty exciting!”

“I’m not sure,” Forrest said, backing away from the edge. He felt as if he stood there any longer he would vomit.

“Well, you better be!” Randolph said.

The businessperson patted Forrest on the back once again, before making their way over to an envelope on a table.

“See? My boss even wrote a personal letter for both of us!” Randolph spoke, “How considerate!”

Forrest looked at the envelope. It had the Greazeburger logo on the top left corner where the return address was, and the letter had Randolph’s name on it.

The businessperson excitedly grabbed the letter and ripped it open, smiling ear to ear. Yet, as Randolph’s eyes scanned the paper, their smile faded until a point where the expression on their face was nothing more than shock.

They dropped the paper, and Forrest was able to get a good look at it.

Mx. Randolph Greaze,

We regret to inform you that your employment with Greazeburger Inc. has been terminated effective immediately.

Profits in your sector fell by 0.01% during your absence, and as such you will be blamed. You will be replaced effective immediately, and your company-mandated vacation time will be cut short.

Your final check will not be delivered, and the consequences will be immediate. I will arrive shortly after you read this letter.

Thank you for your service to Greazeburger Inc.

Regards,

Mx. Martin Greaze

Head of Greazeburger Earth

Randolph fell to their knees, covering their face with their hands and letting out shaking sobs. Forrest sighed once again, approaching the businessperson.

Or… well… former businessperson.

Forrest hesitantly patted Randolph on the back, before rubbing his hand in circles. He wasn’t too familiar with physical affection, but this was what Randolph did to him and it kinda worked so maybe it’ll help.

After a few minutes of letting Randolph sob, Forrest spoke up.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” he said, “Every day’s a vacation now! No longer company-mandated vacation time but… you mandated?”

“I can’t… I can’t function without… without Greazeburger…” Randolph cried “I-I’m part of the family…”

Forrest sat down next to Randolph.

“Well… it looks like you’ll have to learn…” Forrest said, “Think about it, all the pizzas you want all over the world! Don’t you want to see the world?”

“N-no… I wanna work for… for Greazeburger…” Randolph said, swallowing their tears.

“Look… you’re free!” Forrest said, “Do whatever you want to do! No boss to tell you what to do!”

Randolph turned to Forrest, a dumbfounded look on their face.

“Why would anyone not want to have a boss?” Randolph asked, confused at the notion.

Forrest sighed, deeply regretting trying to talk to Randolph in that way. It seems like they couldn't even fathom things in non-business terms.

“Although…”

Forrest turned his attention to Randolph. The ex-employee of Greazeburger slid towards him and up against his body.

“I would like to spend some time with my plus one,” they said, “You were a very pleasant plus one, I would like to spend more time with you,”

Forrest was confused. All he did was complain, yet somehow Randolph considered the experience… pleasant?

“How?” Forrest asked, to which Randolph just smiled.

“You’re a very pleasant person to be around,” they said, leaning their head against Forrest’s shoulder, “And you’re my plus one,”

Their comments made Forrest smile. It wasn’t an answer, yet it answered everything. It was a worldview only Randolph could have had, that because Greazeburger chose Forrest as their plus one, they HAD to be soulmates.

At least, that was what Forrest got from those comments.

The gross sounds and awful odors were pushed to the back of both of their minds, as Forrest began having thoughts. Randolph looked handsome… and at this angle Forrest saw them in an even more handsome way, their body covered in sweat and their hair, formerly neatly combed, was messy and displaced.

Forrest’s breath hitched, his lips drying as he looked away for a second, wiping his nose before turning back to Randolph.

“What would you like to do then?” asked Forrest.

“I don’t know,” Randolph replied, “but I want it to be with you,”

“Well, uh…” Forrest said, thinking. There wasn’t much to do up on that platform, yet an idea popped into the anomaly’s mind.

“Have you… ever been hugged before?” Forrest asked.

Randolph shook their head.

“Well…” Forrest took a deep breath, “Wanna hug?”

Randolph hesitated, but ultimately nodded their head. “I do…”

Forrest wrapped his arms around Randolph, the businessperson’s arms going limp. Makes sense they didn't know how to hug, Forrest doubted anyone was allowed to touch them without signing 15 legal papers.

“Mmm…” Randolph grunted, “Good…”

Forrest split from the hug, but Randolph kept their face planted firmly against Forrest’s chest. This caused the anomaly to let out an actual giggle. It was small, but it was noticeable.

He placed his hand behind Randolph’s head and ruffled their hair. This was the most emotion Randolph had ever shown from what Forrest could tell.

“Alright… let’s stop this…” Forrest said. Randolph reluctantly got off of his chest and adjusted their tie.

The two sat down near the edge of the pot, looking into the gaping maw of the container, and the massive blob of cheese that lay beneath them.

“That does not look appetizing at all,” Forrest said.

“Yeah…” Randolph replied, “It’s kinda… underwhelming,”

Forrest turned to look at Randolph, “What do you mean?”

Randolph sighed, “My coworkers kept saying that the pizza was the best thing since that Halloween party last year, yet… I don’t know…”

“Hm…” Forrest sighed.

The two sat in silence as if they had run out of words to say. Even if they had only just met an indeterminable amount of hours ago, the duo basked in each other’s presence.

This peaceful moment came tumbling down when a voice unfamiliar to Forrest spoke from behind.

“Hello!” it said, “Apologies for the delay, we had an outbreak on Floor 17,”

Both Forrest and Randolph looked up at the source of the voice, a tall person in a business suit identical to Randolph’s. At the sight of the person, Randolph jumped and got on their knees.

“Please, Martin!” pleaded Randolph, “Please give me my job back!”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Randolph,” the person, supposedly named Martin, said, before pushing Randolph over the edge of the pot with their foot.

Randolph screamed as they fell down the side, colliding with the melted cheese. Forrest looked down into the pot and could see Randolph’s skin bubbling and falling off, blood staining the cheese.

Forrest couldn’t look away, yet he had to. He had to forcefully peel his eyes from the scene to concentrate his gaze on the person who pushed them in.

“I… apologize you had to witness that,” Martin said, “Martin Greaze, head of Greazeburger Earth,”

They held out their hand, but Forrest didn’t take it. Disappointedly, Martin took their hand back.

“On behalf of Greazeburger, I would like to apologize for the poor quality of this Greazeburger Vacation™,” said Martin, “As compensation, have a t-shirt!”

Martin pulled a yellow tee from underneath their jacket and handed it to Forrest. The corporate head cupped Forrest’s hands in his own hands before speaking to the confused Forrest.

“Now, let me return you home,”

Sheer confusion was the last thing Forrest could feel before his mind faded.

After Action Report: Incident 7513-97

Residing Personnel: Dr. Christian Abspoel

Date of Incident: 2023/01/27

Anomalies Involved: SCP-7513

Group(s) of Interest Involved: GoI-7795 (Greazeburger Incorporated)

Description of Events: On 2023/01/27, SCP-7513 awoke from its sleep screaming. While this wouldn’t be unusual, what was unusual was that SCP-7513 had a t-shirt in its possession that it didn’t have before sleeping, as well as a business card belonging to one Randolph Greaze.

Upon further investigation, the t-shirt and business card both belonged to GoI-7795 (Greazeburger Incorporated). When questioned, SCP-7513 described meeting an individual named Randolph Greaze, with the two building a rapport with each other before an encounter with PoI-7795 (Martin Greaze).

During the interview, SCP-7513 displayed knowledge of GoI-7795 that it would not have known before the incident, as well as told the Foundation about an acquisition involving minor parts used in the creation of Foundation-issued pagers done by GoI-7795, one that the Foundation was not aware of before the incident.

This incident coincides with a brief corruption of SCP-7513’s pager for several minutes before its awakening, which SCP-7513 explains is due to its abduction by GoI-7795.

The Foundation will further investigate GoI-7795’s activities and acquisitions, as well as its connections to extraterrestrial life forms.

This tale was written for RomCon. Shout out to Mooagain for creating Randolph Greaze. Please see their version of Forrest and Randolph's relationship here! (Not Yet Posted)