emotionally attached to it; treating it as a pet and actively caring for it 
to the best of their ability. As long as they are affected by SCP-617, 
victims will make SCP-617's care a priority, giving ita home, 
protecting it from danger, and most importantly, making sure it is 
well fed. 


SCP-617 has an active digestive system, and sustains itself ona 
diet primarily consisting of fresh meat. Since it is unable to obtain 
food on its own, SCP-617 persuades its "owner" to gather food. The 
owner will then resort to any means to feed SCP-617. Recorded 
instances have shown that owners are willing to slaughter livestock 
and other pets to feed SCP-617, and will even resort to murdering 
other human beings. In times of desperation, it is not uncommon for 
the owner to feed parts of themselves to SCP-617. The violent and 
unpredictable behavior exhibited by owners while obtaining food is 
believed to be a side effect of SCP-617's subliminal manipulation, 
which directly affects areas of the brain believed responsible for 
rational thought. 


On some occasions, SCP-617 will actually begin to devour its owner 
while they are asleep. The owner will either not notice the attack or 
simply show no alarm when it is discovered, continuing to care for 
SCP-617 as if this behavior were perfectly normal. However, once 
the owner is separated from the low frequency sound SCP-617 
produces, they will eventually begin to recover from its effects, 
though victims are still vulnerable to relapse if exposed to SCP-617 
again. 


Further research has shown that zipping up SCP-617 completely 
neutralizes its ability to produce any sound. However, it still requires 
feeding and is still capable of limited movement, being able to slowly 
roll itself along even ground. SCP-617 is also sapient, possessing 
average intelligence and capable of human speech. However, in all 
attempts to communicate, SCP-617 is incapable or unwilling to 
discuss anything further than basic conversation. It will, however, 
state its desire to feed and attempt to persuade any individuals 
within earshot to care for it. As such, a standard IQ test is impossible 
to carry out. 


The Foundation was made aware of SCP-617's existence after a 
series of serial murders began exhibiting a pattern to the effect that 


to return to my home as soon as we are finished here." 


He nodded. "Well, | will not keep Dr. Watson long. With the evidence 
we have gained, it is simply elementary. This fish is obviously the 
cause of your woes, Miss Highman," he said, nodding to her. 


"How is that possible?" asked Miss Highman. "It is but a fish!" 


"With what happened to me, Miss Highman," replied Holmes. "It is 
obvious that this fish somehow has the means to tamper with the 
memories of man. No murderer, Miss Highman. Just a fish. It is now 
dead, and its sinister practice is undone." 


"| find this very unlikely, Holmes," | commented. 


He turned to me. "What have | always told you, Watson? When you 
have removed the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how 
improbable, must be the truth. If you look in the fish's mouth, you will 
note the sharp teeth. Your father stayed in his quarters for weeks at 
a time. No doubt, on one of these occasions he must have been 
feeding the fish. Its effect caused him to put his hand in the bowl 
again and again, until there was nothing left of his hand and he bled 
to death." 


"This fish was an instrument of murder?" | said. "Who would have 
done this?" 


"Himself, | suspect. He was an eccentric man, and he would not 
have been able to resist a specimen such as this, and so he kept it 
in his quarters, studying it often." 


"Nobody will believe this, Mr. Holmes," said Miss Highman. 
"| do not think that's important, Miss Highman. Do you believe it?" 


We walked through the park towards my home. Holmes said, "| am 
sure your wife will recover soon enough, and you'll be ready for 
another case, my friend." 


| laughed. "You could do without me, Sherlock." 


"Of course not, John. You have saved my life, after all.” 

He was a very successful inventor. Clients would visit him often. 
"Many times, Holmes. | fear | do little else." 

No inventions, nothing but the evidence of a broken man. 


"May it never change," said Holmes, as | looked down at the hand 
which had saved Sherlock Holmes. 


"Who knows, perhaps you would be the one to fool Sherlock 
Holmes!" 


| shot Holmes through the back of the head. 


| walked into 221B Baker Street and went up the stairs to what had 
been Holmes' quarters. As arranged in his letter to me, Mycroft 
Holmes had left the door unlocked and was sitting in Holmes' 
armchair, smoking a pipe. 


"You did it?" asked Mycroft. 
"Yes," | said. "Have you arranged the rest?" 


"My men will move in and give Miss Highman and her brother the 
necessary amnestics. You have done our Foundation a great 
service, Dr. Watson." He said this as if | had simply delivered a letter 
instead of killing his brother. He saw my expression. "It had to be 
done, doctor. The loss of Dr. Highman was a regrettable one, but 
Sherlock could not be allowed to continue knowing what he knew. 
He isn't - wasn't as sensible as you. We're the only thing holding the 
world together, you know." 


"Yes," | said, and | was telling the truth. "I know." 


"You and your wife sail for America on Tuesday. | would pack your 
bags. Now we will walk onto the streets as if we were old friends, 
and go our separate ways. | will soread the story that Holmes was 
killed in Strasbourg. Are we clear?" 


"Yes." My voice was a dull, quiet monotone. "We are." 
Myself and Mycroft left the cold, dead room at 221B Baker Street. 
THE END 


Whatcha doing? 


"Sir, we've got another strange one.” 


Dr. Clef frowned. What now? “I've got to finish writing up this damn 
report, like I've got nothing better to do.” 


The agent grimaced. Getting Clef angry was never a smart thing to 
do. “There's a report about a pair of potential reality shifters, and the 
O5 council want you to look into it.” 


“And they couldn't tell me about it themselves, eh? Too scared, the 
big babies?” 


“lam, sir.” the agent mumbled, a bead of sweat rolling down the left 
side of his face. 


Clef laughed. “Alright, Williams, what the hell's going on now?” 


Agent Williams looked at his notes. “We got a report out from one of 
our agents in the Tri-State area about a couple of kids who seem to 
be able to do unusual things without any of the adults in town 
noticing. The agent reported that these kids have built a giant roller 
coaster, a beach in their back yard despite the limited space, a huge 
paper mache airplane, a self-contained bio-dome, x-ray glasses that 
actually use x-rays and a number of other anomalous objects.” 


“How did this agent find out about all of these things, and how come 
we haven't until now?” 


“Well, she didn't see any of these things, if that's what you mean. 
She had taken her son to a summer soccer competition in some little 
town named Danville. Her older daughter overheard this teenage girl 
who was going on and on about how she wanted to “bust” her two 
brothers to her mother, but no one ever believes her. By the time 
she drags an adult over, the object is gone. It seems like no adult 
notices how dangerous these objects could be, or cares where they 


go. The objects never seem to last more than a day.” 


Dr. Clef rocked back in his chair. “What about their parents? Have 
they been affected?” 


“They just seem to be oblivious. A check of their financial records 
show that there is no way they could afford to pay for a fraction of 
the objects listed.” A picture fell out of the agents notes. The agent 
picked it up and pulled out two others. “Sir, here are some photos 
taken at long-range by the surveillance team.” 


Clef shoved the report he was working on aside, and looked at the 
three photographs. “What the hell is wrong with their heads? How 
can the shorter one's neck hold that thing up? And what's with this 
building that looks like a sewing machine?” 


Agent Williams looked at the picture. “What does that banner say?” 


Clef squinted. “Something about...evil incorporated?” He shook his 
head. This was fucked up. Clef looked at one of the picture again. 
“What is that...thing...in the background? Why is it green, and why 
is it wearing a fedora?” 


Clef closed his eyes. After a few seconds, a smile slowly began to 
spread across his face. He rose to his feet. 


“| Know what we're going to do today.” 


SCP Foundation The Movie 2: Electric Boogaloo 


Dr. Edison sneezed into the telephone. It had been a long day 
keeping the eldritch horrors contained within Site- locked up, and 
the good doctor was in no mood to catch a cold. The fact that Site- 
was in Antarctica didn't help things. "Sorry doc." he said. "I don't 
think | caught that. You're saying my what went where now?" 


"Your movie! The one that got you transferred to Antarctica!" said 
Dr. King. "It's becoming a Cult classic! The O5 are in an uproar! 
Haven't you been paying attention?" 


"Attention?" Edison replied. "Attention to what?" 


And now it's time for Bum Reviews, with Chester A. Bum. 
Tonight's review: The SCP Foundation 


OHHHH MY GOD, THIS IS THE GREATEST MOVIE 
I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE! 


[DATA EXSPOILERS!] 


So there are these guys, called the SCP Foundation, and 
they're this secret government organization run by 
Tommy Wissau dedicated to investigating paranormal 
stuff! 


| WAS A PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR, ONCE! 


Oh, wait, that was just a TV show. What was it called 
again? Oh yeah: Baywatch Nights! 


But there's also this organization of eeeevil terrorists who 
kidnap a vampire overlord... who is played by the guy 
from Twilight for some reason. 


Boy, that Edward guy has fallen on hard times, hasn't 
he? 


But to make matters worse, there's an eeevi/ arms dealer 
working for the terrorists, who wants to destroy the SCP 
foundation so that he can... drill for oil, or something. 


Yeah, | don't get it either. 


So Tommy Wisau calls his top scientists, and tells them 
that they need to stop the terrorists before the vampire 
Apocalypse happens! 


"Uh, boss? Wouldn't it be a better idea to just tell the 
army about this or something?" 


"Ha ha ha funny story, Mark." 


PHELOUS: So that was The SCP Foundation, another 
disappointingly shitty movie from "Zhe Only Fucking 
Geinus in Zhe Buisness" and those guys who made Epic 
Movie. Oh, and in case you're one of those people who 
just watch the end of videos without any context, I'm 
Phelous the Canadian internet review guy from 
ThatGuyWithTheGlasses dot com dot com. 


PHELOUS: OOOQOOQOOOOHHHH! Do you see what | 
just did there? | just made fun of something really stupid 
that the movie did in my end-of-review skit that they 
thought was funny but really wasn't! | am being soooo 
funny right now! 


PHELOUS: OOQOOOOOOOHHHH! | just explained the 
joke that | just made five seconds ago, which is ALSO 
something the movie did that I'm making fun of! More 
comic goooollild! 


*"Dr Clef" (obviously played by Phelous in a suit and 
gorilla mask) walks into the room brandishing a Ukalale- 
Shotgun. * 


"DR. CLEF": You've made terrible meta-jokes for the 
last time, Phelous. I'm here to take away your Internet 
licence forever! 


PHELOUS: Noooooo! How could this happen to 
meeeeeeee? *Breaks into song* | made my 
mistakeeeessss! There's nowhere to ruuuun, the night 
goes o000000n and I'm fading awaaaaayyyyyy! 


*Dr. Clef shoots Phelous. Phelous begins regenerating 
time-lord style for about 10 seconds while Dramatic Dr. 
Who music plays, only to stop abruptly. * 


PHELOUS: Ha ha, I'm not doing that joke anymore. In 
fact, this entire skit is kind of terrible isn't it, so lets end it 
right here. 


"DR. CLEF": What? You mean | came all this way for 
nothing? 


one! 


"DR. CLEF": Okay then. Ahem: *Dr. Who music begins 
playing again* Get these motherfucking Skips off my 
motherfucking plane... motherfucker! 

*Music suddenly stops.* 


PHELOUS: Really? That's the best you could come up 
with? 


"DR. CLEF": Oh shut up, it's not like your show is much 
better. 


PHELOUS: Ha ha, you see that was funny beacuse my 
show has terrible production values, so by saying that 
my show isn't much better than that terrible one liner Clef 
is making a humorous comparison to- 


*Dr. Clef shoots Phelous* 


PHELOUS: *cough* *hak*, Mmmm, watcha saaaayyyy... 


*Dr. Clef shoots Phelous again. Cue credits. * 


"Well given that | got transferred to freakin’ Antarctica, I'm not 
exactly first in line to learn this kind of stuff." Dr. Edison coughed. 
"So, um... what do you want me to do about it?" 


"The hell if | know!" Dr. King said. "It's your movie! You do 
something about it!" 


Dr. Edison paused as he gave the problem some thought. "Okay." 
he said, "Here's what you do..." 


FILM BRAIN: I'm Film Brain, and welcome to Bad Movie 
Beatdown! Today we're going to take a look at Michael 
Bay's SCP Foundation 6: The Revenge of Darkblade, 
undoubtedly the worst movie of our generation. It's so 
bad that it has the dubious honor of being the only movie 
to somehow wind up with a negative Metacritic score. 
And believe me, this movie deserves it. 


*Cut to Phelous, wearing the Dr Clef costume* 


PHELOUS: Not so fast, Film Brain! Your data is about to 
be Ex-Pungea! 


FILM BRAIN: No, Phelous, | am not doing another 
crossover with you. 


PHELOUS: Oh come on! But | brought out the costume 
and every- 


FILM BRAIN: NO. 
*Phelous slinks away, while a violin plays in the 


background* 


"| don't understand..." said O5- . "How exactly does making more 
movies solve the problem?" 


"It's quite simple, really." said Dr. Edison, adjusting his sunglasses. 
"With a few exceptions, movies only get worse and worse as more 
sequels keep being made. So | figured that if we make enough 
sequels, we'll eventually make a movie so bad that it will erase the 
entire franchise from the collective unconscious! And who else is 
better at making terrible sequels than Michael Bay himself?" 


O5- shook his head. "I can think of so many reasons why that didn't 
work." 


"Yeah, | don't know what | was thinking either." said Dr. Edison. "In 
fact, | think | actually made things worse... But you have to admit, 
they work great as torture devices!" 


The O5 glared at Edison. 
"I'm being sent back to Antarctica, aren't |?" 


"Yep : " 


all of the victims were partially devoured. The Foundation involved 
itself in the investigation and managed to track the suspect, 

to his home. During the operation (see After Action Report 617), 
SCP-617's persuasive powers were discovered and it was 
successfully contained. 


After Action Report 617: Agent —_was sent to apprehend 

for possible SCP possession. However, all contact was lost. A 
Foundation armed response team was sent to investigate. They 
discovered that Agent had become hostile and initiated a 
confrontation. Both Agent and were killed in the 
ensuing gunfight, with the response team suffering three wounded. 
At this point, a psychic or memetic factor was suspected and the 
response team was ordered to stay back and form a defensive 
perimeter. Remote probing of the area revealed an anomalous, low 
frequency sound being generated. D-Class personnel with hearing 
protection were able to recover SCP-617 and successfully contain it.