Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 38 
Today we decided to blow a fucking hole in the wall. 


Carlen had charges in her pack (god knows why), so why not. The 
wall wasn't going anywhere. 


We all stood clear, and blasted. It took a long time to clear all the 
mashed potatoes away, but we sure enough created a three-meter 
hole. 


Guess what was on the other side. 
Potatoes. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 39 

We started excavating through the hole we made, and turns out it 
actually is different, outside. It definitely is outside: the ground is dirt 
and extremely dead grass. That means this thing isn't anywhere on 
earth. | guess the building was some kind of gigantic warehouse. 


We've been hearing these sort of faint rumbles ever since we blew 
the charges. Xander's starting to go wily about it, but as far as we 
can tell, nothing's happened. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 43 

How high up do these potatoes go? If we're outside, then there's no 
vertical clearance. So does it go all the way up into the atmosphere? 
Is this whole universe filled with potatoes? 


It's so weird thinking we're outside. It doesn't feel any different from 
being inside the building. It's like we're underground. Well, | guess 
we are. It's just the ground is made of potatoes. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells, Day 44: 

We found an actual tree! A dead one, surrounded by potatoes, but a 
tree rooted in the ground nonetheless. We had to be careful about it, 
because the enzyme chews it up, but we managed to fully uncover 
it. Its branches were sort of weird, splitting at these perfect thirty- 
degree angles, but overall it looked pretty normal. The lab had me 
collect a bark sample. It totally made the "outside" fact real. What is 
this place? 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 48 
Xander was worried about the rumbles we've been hearing, so he 


turned back to look. Turns out, about a hundred meters of our tunnel 
is caved in. 


Command didn't know either. They said they'd start digging us out 
from the other side, and that it was my choice if | wanted to keep 
excavating. Fredrick and Carlen want to continue, so continue we 
do, listening to Xander complain. "| didn't sign up for this shit." Yeah, 
no shit. The Foundation didn't exactly know you were going into The 
Realm of Taters when they recruited you. It's not the kind of thing 
you put in the fine print, just in case. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 51 

We keep finding more weird shit. Fredrick uncovered this twisted 
bicycle, and got super psyched about it. | knew there had to be 
humans here before because of the building, but it didn't really occur 
to me until | saw the bicycle. Jesus. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 55 
Fuck. I'm an awful captain. 


There was another big rumble today. A huge cave-in. We nearly got 
crushed, but somehow we all managed to take safe refuge under 
the tree branches. 


This time we lost contact with command. We can still detect some 
faint radio transmissions, but it's too static-y for correspondence. 
Obviously, | made the call to turn back, but we have no idea how 
bad it is. It could take weeks to get out. 


Fuck. | should have turned back. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 62 

Fredrick told us today that we should have brought an Irishman. | 
told him that he was an asshole. He was chuckling about it all day 
long. What an absolute prick. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 65 

We ran out of food rations today. Xander freaked out and started 
saying we were going to starve, until | told him he was a fucking 
idiot. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 67 

We should've brought a god damn spice kit. Carlen actually had 
cooking equipment in her pack (god knows why), so we can prepare 
the potatoes a couple of different ways. But it's still potatoes. My 
taste buds are starting to shut down. 


This is going to take forever. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 68 

It's too hard to clear out the original tunnels we made. It'll be quicker 
to just cut straight to the bag, anyways. Tomorrow I'll tell my team to 
just start carving a new tunnel. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 69 
Fuck. 


We ran out of enzyme today. Sure | noticed the supply dwindling, 
but it doesn't really work to ration it. So we just kept using it like 
normal, and now we're out. 


Okay, so the good news is that we were inside the building when it 
happened. That means we can shovel our way out, as there is a 
ceiling. It's five meters from top to bottom, and | can't imagine we 
could make a tunnel any narrower than a meter and a half. That's 
going to be slow, but we should get there. 


The real digging problem is space. Where are we going to dump the 
potatoes? The best we can do is about five meters behind us, so we 
have a little bubble of space that we just sort of move through the 
building. 


This is going to take a long time, but I'm honestly not sure what we'll 
run out of first. Food is covered. And they've actually got enough 
water in them. The oxygen is starting to get stale, though. | don't 
know how much is able to fit in the cracks between the potatoes. 


| don't even know what to do for morale. I've told everybody that 
Command is probably digging from the other side, and is going to 
find us, but they're all depressed. This was supposed to be a 65-day 
mission, max. 


Fredrick made a joke about the word "tuber." | don't remember 
exactly what. It was stupid anyways. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 70 

Maybe it's because we were just melting them, but there's 
something none of us noticed before. The potatoes are real ugly- 
looking. They've got these bulges which sort of wiggle and grow, 
slowly. Absolutely disgusting, and they're our only meal. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 71 
| hate the smell of potatoes. I'd have the vomit back, just for the 
smell. Fuck. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 72 
It's fucking smaller. Our bubble of space is smaller and it's because 
of more fucking potatoes. 


Our area wasn't precisely dimensioned, or anything. But Carlen was 
the first to mention it when we woke up, and then suddenly it's 
obvious to everyone. The whole area has shrunk a good ten cubic 
meters. What the fuck. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 73 

| was paying attention today. Those ugly bulges? They actually get 
big fast. And when they get to be the size of a potato, they split off. 
That's where all of the potatoes are coming from. 


Our area got even smaller today. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 74 

We're running out of space and time. There's barely enough room to 
work any more; we're knocking elbows and shoulders while we 
shovel. 


Fucking taters. Fucking spuds. Fucking yams. Fucking tubers. 
Fucking roots. | swear they'll kill me while I'm sleeping and I'll have a 
potato fucking stuffed down my throat. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 75 
All day long Xander's whining shut the fuck up. | hate the dark too. 
We all hate the dark and the yellow lamps with the brown potatoes 


and the tasteless food we all hate it okay? OKAY? 


It's not like | can yell at the team. | keep them all going. I'm the 
captain. Captain Wells, Potato Commander. | keep it together and 
vent it all in these fucking logs. 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 76 
| cant breath. | cant fucking breath and there's no room to shovel 
fuck fuck fuck 


Mission Log, Captain Wells: Day 78 

| feel like I'm breathing inside someone else's lungs, who's already 
exhaled so there's nothing but carbon dioxide. No one can even 
speak while we're working. 


We're dead within the week. Death by potatoes. 


Concluding Statement: On 3 Nov 201 , Mission Captain Wells and 
Agents Ozols, Meryle, and Peterson connected with the secondary 
excavation team. Although they were suffering from oxygen 
deficiency and in a deteriorated mental state, all team members fully 
recovered within three weeks. Captain Wells declined to write a 
post-mission summary. 


SCP-1690: Sentimental Sushi Man with a Wasabi 
Sculpture 


Item #: SCP-1690 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1690 and SCP-1690-1 are 
to be contained inside a standard humanoid containment cell 
monitored by CCTV cameras at all hours. When interacting with 
SCP-1690, personnel are to maintain a polite demeanor to avoid 
unnecessary aggravation. Should SCP-1690 display any signs of 
shock or sudden distress, any personnel present in the cell are to 
immediately vacate and seal the containment cell. No further 
interaction is to occur until SCP-1690 has returned to an unstressed 
emotional state. 


Description: SCP-1690 is a humanoid entity composed entirely of 
cooked vinegared rice (sushi-meshi), dried seaweed, and pieces of 
various raw fish. The components of SCP-1690's body do not 
appear to age, though any food produced by SCP-1690 using parts 
of itself is perishable. SCP-1690 has no easily discernible facial 
features, but possesses sensory perception similar to that of a 
human’s. SCP-1690 is capable of bipedal locomotion and has 
demonstrated advanced fine motor skills. SCP-1690 is also able to 
speak fluent Japanese as well as English, albeit with a strong 
Japanese accent. While speaking, the entity will insist on addressing 
all individuals with Japanese honorifics of respect. 


SCP-1690 claims to be an amalgamation of the spirits of discarded 
and uneaten sushi rolls made "for the beautiful pursuit of true love", 
and professes that its goal is to craft sushi that will "reveal the pure 
feelings of its creator". SCP-1690 insists on being in the constant 
presence of a small sculpture made of wasabi, designated 
SCP-1690-1. SCP-1690-1, similarly to SCP-1690, does not degrade 
over time. It is modeled in the shape of a young woman wearing 


traditional Japanese attire, consistent with that of Edo Period 
noblewomen. SCP-1690 will regularly use wasabi taken from a 
cavity located on the left side of its chest to maintain SCP-1690-1's 
shape. When the sculpture is removed from SCP-1690's presence, 
SCP-1690 will exhibit emotional distress. After a certain period of 
time without proximity to SCP-1690-1, SCP-1690's physical 
structure will begin to deteriorate and it will begin to fall apart. Upon 
return of the sculpture, SCP-1690's body will gradually reform. 


SCP-1690 behaves in a formal, disciplined manner; it often sits 
cross-legged and motionless in its cell, facing its wasabi sculpture. 
On occasion, SCP-1690 will craft various sushi items using 
ingredients removed from its body. Previous items have included 
nigiri with the topping cut in the shape of sakura petals, and salmon 
sashimi arranged in the shape of the kanji 7 (koi, “love”). 
Consistently after finishing each creation, SCP-1690 will present the 
sushi to SCP-1690-1, and seemingly interpret the sculpture's lack of 
response as rejection. SCP-1690 will then emit distressed 
vocalizations and consume the sushi. 


SCP-1690 will often request individuals to sample sushi it has 
prepared during interviews and testing. Should the offer be refused, 
or should a consumer react unfavorably, SCP-1690 will enter a state 
of shock and remain motionless while "shedding" layers of its body, 
before resuming its normal complacent behavior and returning the 
shed pieces to itself. Sushi crafted by SCP-1690 possesses no 
anomalous properties and is generally described by D-Class 
personnel as “ordinary, nothing special” with the individual 
ingredients being of "decent quality". Despite repeated removal of 
material from its body, SCP-1690 does not appear to diminish in 
mass. 


Addendum 1690-1: Foundation personnel located SCP-1690 and 
SCP-1690-1 at a fishing village near the prefecture of Japan, 
following the condemnation of a reputedly haunted sushi restaurant. 
The restaurant in question had been abandoned by the owner, who, 
according to the locals, had moved the business after a long- 
awaited marriage. When SCP-1690 was instructed to accompany 
Foundation personnel, the entity complied without objection or 
inquiry, allowing itself to be taken into Foundation custody along with 


its wasabi sculpture. All nearby witnesses in the area were 
administered Class-A amnestics. 


Addendum 1690-2: Following a series of interviews, SCP-1690 is 
confirmed to be associated with the _ family, the original owners of 
the condemned sushi restaurant (see interview log). Though 
SCP-1690 demonstrates familiarity with human emotions, the extent 
of SCP-1690’s empathic understanding is currently unknown. 


Interview Log-1690- 
The following interview took place on // ,at 


SCP-1690 and Dr. Akagi are seated within SCP-1690’s 
containment unit. SCP-1690 is arranging slices of raw 
fish it recently removed from itself. 


Dr. Akagi: Good afternoon, SCP-1690. 
SCP-1690: Good afternoon, esteemed doctor. 


Dr. Akagi: Please tell me more about why you practice 
your craft. 


SCP-1690: My goal is to emulate my master. Master 
strived and honed his art to win the heart of his first love. 


Dr. Akagi: Is that the woman your sculpture is modeled 
after? Who is she? 


SCP-1690: Yes. She is my master’s lady. Her family and 
my master’s family were allied in artisan trade. They 
served the noble classes, though her house was more 
auspicious than his. 


Dr. Akagi: What happened to your master? 


SCP-1690: He proved his worth to her and her family 
through his art. Now | seek to do the same. 


Dr. Akagi: You have remarkable skill. 


SCP-1690: It is not my master’s equivalent. | have 
practiced, but it is not the same. Many years have 
passed. | lack something he was able to put into his 
craft. 


Dr. Akagi: Are you missing a special ingredient? 


SCP-1690: | do not know. My master was lonely and 
heartsick when he made me, but he found his path. 
Someday | will find my own. 


Addendum 1690-3: SCP-1690 has occasionally made requests for 
sheets of rice paper. Upon granting of these requests, SCP-1690 
began to compose poetry, generally haiku or senryu, using soy 
sauce as an artistic medium. Among these works was the following 
composition (translated from Japanese): 


Master, | follow your craft unerringly 

Yet an emptiness settles between my fingers 

| fear there is something | do not understand. 

What does my art lack? 

Your hands shaped the art that led her to your side 
What mystic charm did your art weave upon the sakura 
maiden 

How did your art warm such a smile? Do | not 
Yearn for the same smile? 

My hands are your art. Why 

Am | not the same? 

My words are your words. 

What does my heart lack? 

What do | lack? 


« SCP-1689 | SCP-1690 | SCP-1691 » 


SCP-1691: A Revolving Door 


Item #: SCP-1691 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1691 is installed in 5 x 5 x 
5m containment cell. The room is to be observed at all times by a 
camera, and any unanticipated activity is to be reported 
immediately. No personnel should enter SCP-1691 at any time 
unless authorised for testing. In light of the events of 
Incident-1691-1, entry to SCP-1691 is absolutely forbidden. Two 
armed guards are placed outside the containment chamber at all 
times, and should be equipped with hand-held transceivers, only to 
be used in the event of unanticipated activity from inside the cell. 
Pressure plates are installed inside the cell to provide an early 
warning system. 


Description: SCP-1691 is a revolving door. Its framework is made 
from steel, but the glass in the wings of the revolving door has been 
replaced with silver glass mirrors. SCP-1691 has four wings and 
each has two mirrors, placed back to back so as to always provide a 
reflection. The reflected images are clear and undistorted, barring 
the one mirror which has been cracked. Despite the severity of this 
damage, all attempts to remove distinct shards of the glass from the 
door have failed.