Item #: SCP-7751

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: While SCP-7751-A instances are safe to contain, no means of reliable permanent containment for SCP-7751 has been discovered. Foundation Webcrawler 402-OVERFISHING has been tasked with monitoring all archival media networks to detect and excise instances of SCP-7751-A, which are then stored at Site-59's media wing.

By order of the Ethics Committee, a moratorium has been placed on further procurement of SCP-7751-B for any reason. The mailroom of the Chicago Sun-Times has been placed under Foundation control. All incoming mail is to be scanned unopened through specialized equipment. If a request for SCP-7751-B has been detected, that piece of mail is to remain unopened and incinerated.

All extant SCP-7751-B instances are to be placed in cryogenic stasis at Site-7751, pending further research to decrease their suffering.

Description: SCP-7751 is a political concept with an unclear meaning. There is no evidence that SCP-7751 is a discussed topic in today's1 political climate.

SCP-7751 is capable of altering political media to include its presence. However, this can only be done with media that has been archived for a minimum of five years. Additionaly, only media from primarily English-speaking countries is affected.

SCP-7751-A denotes a piece of media that has been affected in this manner. Approximately 98% of discovered SCP-7751-A are single-panel political cartoons. In cartoons, SCP-7751 is most commonly symbolized as a gigantic green moray eel labeled "the Clurmbix Question," "CBQ," or "CB?"

When questioned, living creators of content altered by SCP-7751-A have displayed no knowledge of its existence.

Partial Log of Collected SCP-7751-A Instances

Number: SCP-7751-17

Date: December 12, 1805

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): James Gilray

Title: "Libert-OH! Egalit-OH! Fraternit-OH!"

Description: In the den of a rustic cottage, John Bull2 gives Napoleon Bonaparte a spanking. Visible from a window, a gigantic SCP-7751 wraps its prehensile tongue around the steeple of a Russian Orthodox church, slobbering profusely.

Number: SCP-7751-75

Date: March 25, 1841

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Robert N. Elton

Title: "The Cupboard Was Bare, And So The Poor Dog Had None!"

Description: President William Henry Harrison, dressed as a grocer, argues in his store with SCP-7751. Harrison exclaims: "Now look here, Mr. Clurmbix — my proud establishment has never, and will never, carry 'rehydrated pharaoh.' I daresay I know not what that even means! Now take your business elsewhere, and never bother me about your pharaohs again so long as you live!"

Note: This was published one day before President Harrison developed symptoms of the disease that led to his death the following April 4th, after only 31 days in office.

Number: SCP-7751-280

Date: May 19th, 1875

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Thomas Nast

Title: "Now See Where Our Little Game Has Led Us!"

Description: A tiger (Labeled "Tammany Hall") and a donkey (Labeled "Democrats") hold either end of a jump rope in their mouths. The jump rope has been tangled around the neck of SCP-7751. The former two display expressions of shock and horror. The latter, choking, has its eyes rolled and the corners of its mouth upturned in apparent ecstasy.

Number: SCP-7751-292

Date: October 1st, 1889

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Henri Julien

Title: "You Would Do Well To Pretend You're Holding A Full Glass"

Description: Seventeen Canadian mounted policemen, accompanied by Uncle Sam, nervously hold empty wine glasses. SCP-7751 looms over them, glaring.

Number: SCP-7751-1930

Date: June 5th, 1999

Type: Four-panel newspaper strip

Original Creator(s): Garry Trudeau

Title: N/A (Title of series: Doonesbury)

Description: First panel: An anthropomorphic bullet speaking to a reporter, saying: "Safety locks, import bans on clips, background checks — we're being overwhelmed by common sense here!" Second panel: SCP-7751, staring at the viewer. Third panel: Identical to second. Fourth panel: Identical to second and third, but with SCP-7751 saying: "I would like a hamburger."

Number: SCP-7751-2030

Date: January 31st, 2005

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Dana Summers

Title: N/A

Description: An anthropomorphic donkey and elephant sit at a bar. Sobbing, the elephant begs the donkey: "You don't understand! We need to play backgammon right now!" SCP-7751, looming behind the elephant, holds a metal briefcase in its teeth labeled "Barbecue Supplies."

Number: SCP-7751-2983

Date: July 14th, 2009

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Gary Markstein

Title: N/A

Description: SCP-7751 vomits. President Barack Obama nervously applauds.

Number: SCP-7751-4847

Date: November 25th, 2013

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Ben Garrison

Title: "Mano e Mano"

Description: SCP-7751, wearing a chef's toque labeled "Food Hat", looms over a dinner table at an Italian restaurant. John Kerry, as an Italian waiter with a large handlebar mustache, serves a platter of severed human hands to Donald Trump. Both Trump and John Kerry have an expression of solemn acceptance. Each visible hand in the platter is individually labeled "Severed Human Hand." The platter is labeled "Flat Surface."

Number: SCP-7751-4879

Date: February 12th, 2014

Type: Single-panel cartoon

Original Creator(s): Andy Marlette

Title: "STICK IT IN"

Description: Senator Mitch McConnell nervously disrobes. With its snout, SCP-7751 nudges a bucket across the floor toward him. The bucket is overflowing with unknown black liquid.

Number: SCP-7751-4901

Date: January 9th, 2015

Type: Radio Show

Original Creator(s): Rush Limbaugh, et al.

Title: "Another Election Year"

Description: At the 14-minute mark, the host enters the following monologue:

<Begin Log>

Limbaugh: …but before we dive too deep into this, I'd like to get one thing straight for the record. Before Obamacare, before our sultan-in-chief weaseled his way into the Oval Office, before the whole damn country collectively lost its mind — we gotta remember how deep this really runs, people.

Take a long, blood-red string, trace it all-l-l the way back to the source of all the corruption in Washington — and when you get there, you gotta ask yourself: What about Clurmbix? Who's gonna account for Clurmbix?

(Sound of shuffling papers)

No, listen, lemme tell you something about Clurmbix…

(24 seconds of silence.)

Good ol' Clurmbix.

(3 minutes and 38 seconds of Limbaugh breathing heavily.)

…sweet momma mo-lasses.

(Sound of a fist slamming against a table three times, followed by the table cracking.)

(Limbaugh laughs, sleepily.)

Yeah…

(He clicks his tongue 27 times.)

(6 minutes of dead silence.)

…I'm just gonna throw something at the wall and see if it sticks. Or if it leaves streaks that we'll have to wippity-wipe away. (Jaunty, isn't it?)

Picture in your headspaces, a cockroach. In a nifty little cockroach house at the bottom of the Marianas Trench, the deepest point in the ocean. Lower than the bottom. The Marianas Basement. Reading his roachy newspapers and sipping his roachy tantenkaffe. Hmmmmmm.

In order to live that deep underwater, Mr. Roachy and his das Roachenhaus would have to withstand constant water pressure to the effect of "Fuck you" pounds per square inch. If, by some Mr. Bojangulous aberration of the laws of physics, Roachy was stil alive and kickin', what grimbish existence 'twould be, 'twould be, what a grimbish existence 'twould be.

But he can't always be at the bottom, now, can he? The surface world is where all the Food Lions are, and where else at the bottom of the ocean are you gonna get two-for-one on Kellogg's?

(He cries deeply.)

So what if he were to suddenly resurface? The decompression would balloon him to the size of cities! Continents! Nations! And should he survive this second defilement of physics, would he not deserve all the happy little rewards in the Universe? Or is the word "meritocracy" a trace silhouette on the inner walls of Grandmamma's chimney?

(He shrieks for ten seconds.)

(Twenty seconds of quiet weeping.)

Bug.

(He giggles.)

(He suddenly regains his composure.)

But that's just the way I see it. Moving on! Let's talk about something more lighthearted, like police brutality…

<End Log>

SCP-7751-B refers to a biologically immortal lifeform 10 centimeters in height. All damage received heals within a maximum of ten seconds. Tissue samples taken from subjects have revealed both human and green moray eel DNA. SCP-7751-B has a vaguely humanoid frame. The only visible sensory organs are a miniature human mouth, a single nostril, and a single ear canal. Other than randomly scattered bodily hair and a skin tag on the torso in the shape of a necktie. Its limbs have no fingers or toes.

SCP-7751-B is produced when the Chicago Sun-Times is sent a piece of physical mail requesting information regarding SCP-7751. This cannot be replicated by sending requests to other newspapers. Even through advanced interrogation techniques, no Chicago Sun-Times personnel have expressed knowledge of SCP-7751-B.

However, seven days after the request is opened at the Sun-Times headquarters, an instance of SCP-7751-B appears in a cardboard box at the place where the requestor would receive incoming packages. The box's return address is listed as the Sun-Times Building in Chicago. Within the box is a mason jar filled with an instance of SCP-7751-B packed in horse dung.

A handwritten label on the mason jar lists the following instructions:

1. BREAK WITH HAMMER (DO NOT OPEN)

2. GET AWAY

3. SPRINKLE WITH IODIZED SALT

4. YOU'RE WELCOME, BITCH

On 10/30/2023, seven days after sending the appropriate request, Foundation Site-59's receiving department obtained an instance of SCP-7751-B, hereafter SCP-7751-B-1.

Interview log - SCP-7751-B-1

Date: 10/30/2023

Location: Site-59 Testing Room C1

<Begin Log>

(The jar containing SCP-7751-B-1 sits on a table in the center of the testing chamber. Researcher Daniels approaches with a claw hammer. Dr. Nichols accompanies him.)

Daniels: Goggles on. Ready when you are.

(Nichols nods.)

(Daniels taps the jar's lid with the hammer. The sides crack.)

Nichols: Your orders are to break it open.

Daniels: Well, I don't want to damage it! Just seems kinda counterintuitive.

Nichols: Thank you for your insight. Break it open.

(Daniels winds up a stronger swing.)

(There's a sudden, muffled screech from within the jar.)

(Daniels hesitates.)

Nichols: (Sigh) It's biologically immortal! Just whack the goddamn —

(The jar explodes.)

(Both Nichols and Daniels fall onto the floor with several shards of glass embedded in their torsos.)

Daniels: Gaah, fuck!

Nichols: And this is why we wear our goggles.

(SCP-7751-B-1 flails blindly in what's left of the packing material, shrieking.)

Ugh. Get the salt and let's get this over with.

Daniels: I think there's horse shit in my blood.

Nichols: One thing at a time! Salt!

(They both get back up. Daniels pours a small vial of iodized salt over SCP-7751-B-1.)

(SCP-7751-B-1 immediately stops shrieking. It speaks with an adult human baritone.)

SCP-7751-B-1: Oh, right, we're doing this.

(It stands up straight, adjusting its skin tag like a tie.)

SCP-7751-B-1: Sorry about the mess.

Nichols: You can talk? …Please state your name for the record.

SCP-7751-B-1: Okay, let's keep this relevant to the Clurmbix Question - I'm kind of on borrowed time here and you do not want to have to clean this up again with the next thrall-canvasser, right? Right.

Nichols: Thrall-canvasser?

SCP-7751-B-1: Oh, for fuck's sake — SURE! Great! Let's talk about ME! I mean, it's not like my entire life's purpose has been to tell you about the Clurmbix Question or anything!

Nichols: Um —

SCP-7751-B-1: FINE. I'm an alchemical homunculus bred to be one of the only living creatures who can talk in the present tense about the Greater Clurmbiction aspect of Esoteric Democracy, and in less than a minute, my embryonic gland's gonna run out of anima mercury, and I'll be in an agonizing deathlike trance until the heat death of the Universe — THERE, HAPPY?!

Nichols: Sorry.

SCP-7751-B-1: DON'T CARE, CLOCK'S TICKING.

Daniels: Um, is the Clurmbix Question right-wing or left-wing?

SCP-7751-B-1: THANK YOU. It's a question, all right? Questions are neutral — it's the answer that's gonna be either liberal, conservative, snarmless, authoritarian, libertarian, Cavendish, (indecipherable), or simian.

Nichols: So what is the question? I don't recall seeing it in any mainstream political —

SCP-7751-B-1: Duuhh, probably because it's not mainstream? Obviously?! Look, when you decide what political party you're gonna join, an informed voter needs to consider all factors, even the ones that can only exist extratemporally, i.e. five years before any given point in… aaaand there goes my micropulse. GOOD FUCKING NIGHT.

(SCP-7751-B-1: falls over, struggling to breathe.)

Daniels: Are you all right?

SCP-7751-B-1: Agonizing deathlike trance, remember?

Daniels: Sorry.

SCP-7751-B-1: Meh. At least my schedule won't change.

(SCP-7751-B-1 is no longer responsive.)

<End Log>

Footnotes

1. (As of this article's creation, 11/14/2023)

2. (A symbolic figure of England, similar to Uncle Sam in the United States)