| felt a nudge on my thigh, and looked down to find the assistant 
back with a little yellow stress ball. | smiled at him, pat him on the 
head, and mouthed "thank you". He just wiggled back and forth and 
then waddled off again. 


"Tho... uh..." Tongue licked her lips, and then let her signature 
feature hang out the side of her mouth. "We've never had a 
thituation like thith before." The room went uncomfortably silent. Like 
the very beginning. "Maybe we can hug it out?" Some smiling faces 
turned to face me. 


"What? Tongue, everyone — no! This is beyond hugging it out! She 
stole my idea and claimed it as her own! If that goes into production, 
she makes money off — she gets recognition off of my idea. And 
that is not huggable." | looked directly at her, her cheeks more 
flushed than ever before: "You are not huggable." 


"Gosh, it's not about money, it's about having f-f-fun, Brainy..." 


"| corrected myself didn't I? Clearly she thinks it's about money, 
she's — she's stealing my idea!" 


"Well, wait, | Know Polly, and she'th an upthtanding little girl, and | 
don't think she'd thteal an idea, are you thure you made that up?" 


"| — Are you serious? | am certain! | haven't been more sure about 
anything in my life!" 


"W-W-Well, we can't take action against Polly if we don't have p-p- 
proof, right...?" 


"I'm — Ribbit, I'm Brainy Brian. Do you want me to name all of the 
products under my belt? All of the gifts | have given to this 
company?" 


"I-I-] don't think -" 


"Let's see here... oh yes, | have made the Tattletale Truffles, do you 
remember Universal Controller? 

Oh, and hey, | was the brain behind Dragon-Snails, and | was a 
major contributor to that little gift of ours — | have never been 
anything but a major benefit to this company. | have been nothing 
but an asset to you, and this is how you treat me?" 


"Brainy, you're getting erratic, it'd really be the betht for everyone if 
you just calmed down -" 


"Calmed down? Polly has never had a good idea in her life! Polly 
hasn't had a single successful idea! She's flunked every single toy 
presentation that's been thrown her way! | get throwing a dog a 
bone, but by this point she's consumed a whole gosh darn skeleton! 
| mean, how can you really expect her to come up with something 
like Grow-N-Know Piano Plant? After her fantastic designs, such as 
the 'Teamons'’, the 'Pretty People’, the, oh yes, the ‘Fruit Fly’? Guess 
what, Polly, that's already a thing." 


"Brainy, | think it would be betht if you thlowed down a -" 


"Wait, there's more — how about 'Hemingway Happy Times’, or 
literally just 'History' — oh, and let's not forget 'Candy Gore'!" 


"B-B-Brainy, p-p-please -" 
"Oh, shut your damn trap Ribbit." 


The entire room gasped. | forgot how much | sharpened my nails 
this morning; the stress ball's beady contents had spilled onto the 
table. | stopped squeezing, looked around at all their mouths half 
agape, and felt my face soften and match their expression. | turned 
and saw Polly crying, her eyeliner running down her face. The little 
assistant stood in the door, staring at me wide-eyed. Seeing me 
loosen, he came up slowly and began to scrape the stress ball's 


remains into a small pan. 


The room was tense. My chest hurt. | felt slightly nauseous. The 
only sound was Polly's soft crying in the corner. | was standing, but | 
didn't remember standing up. Sitting back down, looking at where 
the beads used to be, | was awestruck at my own behavior. | didn't 
think | did that anymore. | liked Mr. Ribbit. He was always such a 
nice old man. I'd never had problems with Tongue. | suddenly felt 
very gross. 


"I'm... I'm so sorry." | looked around the room. | could see Ribbit's 
eyes watering. His wife had come over and was rubbing his back. 
"I'm... Ribbit, I'm so sorry. | didn't... I've always liked you, you're 
such a nice old man. And Judy, | just... | don't know what came over 
me." 


Tongue exchanged glances with the people | didn't know, sighed, 
and then looked back at me. She motioned to Polly, and | turned to 
face her. She had her head in her arms by this point. Polly Gary 
Ashley. Idea thief. | could feel my fists tensing again, and had to look 
away. 


"I'm so sorry, Tongue. | can't. | can't forgive her." 


We all hung our heads at once. Mr. Ribbit was escorted out of the 
room by Mrs. Ribbit, and were shortly followed by everyone else. 
The towering, spidery woman came to guide Polly out of the room. 
Soon, it was just me and Tongue. Tongue sighed, got up, and 
walked to where Polly was sitting. She bagged up her sleeves, and 
wiped the wet spot that Polly Gary Ashley left. Then, she looked at 
me solemnly. 


"Brainy, we like you. A lot. You've always been a fantathtic 
toymaker, and we think you're one of the motht dedicated to making 
children have happier liveth. Tho we aren't willing to let you go. But 
we jutht don't think you can thtay here right now. You've cauthed 
quite the thene. Um..." She licked her lips again, and then 
massaged the bridge of her nose. "I think we can thend you on paid 
vacation to the Touritht Trap. Maybe you could calm down there...? | 
don't know, you didn't theem to like my last thuggethtion..." 


"No, no, it's good. I'm... I'm so sorry | caused a scene. | own that. I'll 
take paid vacation to Tourist Trap, as long as it takes for me to get 
back on my feet. Or, as long as you're willing to pay me for paid 
vacation." 


We both awkwardly chuckled, not really because it felt natural but 
just to lighten the mood. | felt another nudge on my thigh, and 
looked down. It was the little assistant again, and he appeared a 
little nervous. His eyes rose to meet mine, and then pulled a green 
stress ball from behind his back and offered it. 


This was my first time on a bus. It felt weird. It felt very weird and 
uncomfortable. | think they were looking at me, all of them in their 
business suits and shawls and dresses and coats and jackets and 
hoodies and jeans and small shoes. | felt naked without my face 
paint, and | had never been anywhere so colorless. As far as | could 
tell, it was just green in every direction. Grasses grazed upon by 
sheep and the occasional tree came into view. It was dull... but | 
guess that's okay. | was feeling dull. | was forced into a brown 
sweater and denim pants, and | was wearing grey shoes with laces. 
My hair was combed back and orderly. | wore some cheap kind of 
cologne. My suitcase was at my feet because | didn't trust leaving it 
alone; if anyone were to see my stuffies, watercolors, and risperdal 
I'd feel terribly judged. Well, | already felt judged. | had felt judged 
since yesterday evening. | tried not to think about it, because it 
would make me look nervous, and | already looked nervous so | 
didn't want to look more nervous. At that moment | was supposed to 
be an upstanding citizen... or something like that. 


The bus turned a bit too sharply and | leaned into the woman next to 
me. | apologized profusely afterwards, hoping that would be enough, 
but eventually she scooted over one seat and stopped responding to 
me. "I'm a child," | thought to myself, "everyone here thinks that I'm 
a child." | looked out into the countryside and started seeing more 
and more trees. My stop was coming up, and | needed to be ready. | 
stood up and hung onto a pole. It made me feel more central, and 


¢ Visions of small insects emerging from pores on their skin 

¢ Viewed written language becoming an unidentified language 

¢ Works of art changing - paintings depict violent scenes from 
human history, and statues become depictions of unworldly 
creatures, not identifiable with any known species 


In addition, those affected will react with violent revulsion to other 
human beings, as well as ignoring any attempt to engage in 
interpersonal conversation or communication. Prolonged exposure 
to SCP-750 can and has resulted in schizophrenia, PTSD, 
dissociative identity disorder, and antisocial personality disorder. 


Addendum: SCP-750 was discovered by Dr. , after he ordered 
a pair of ‘X-ray specs’ from a back page ad in Issue # of 

Magazine, and instead received a case containing SCP-750. The 
case also contained a page of ‘instructions’, which are transcribed 
below. 


Hey true believers! Thank you for ordering your new 
AMAZING see through specs, fresh from your friends 
here at THE FACTORY! Included within is your 
purchase, a life-time guarantee*, and a phone number to 
contact us should your friends get jealous and want the 
same power you've got now! Wondering exactly how 
your new eyes work? Simple! Just take one of the 
included lenses and get 'em reeeeaaaaal/ good and close 
to your old peepers. Your new purchase will take over 
from there! Have fun!!! 


*“WOW!: Amaze your friends with new ability to see 
through their lies! 

*ZIPPIE!: Show off at school! No teacher can hide 
anything from you anymore! 

*AMAZINGI!: Discover secrets! Find hidden treasure! 
Know the unknowable! Anything is possible for you now! 


Note: The phone number and guarantee mentioned above were not 
included in Dr. ‘Ss ordered case. 


« SCP-749 | SCP-750 | SCP-751 » 


thus made me feel like there were more eyes on me. | sat back 
down. Oh gosh, anyone who saw that must have thought | was such 
a wreck, they must have thought | was — was that my stop? 


| looked back, and saw the overgrown bus stop sign get smaller and 
smaller. That was my stop. The driver blew right past it, what the — 
"Hey!" Everybody was looking at me now. "Hey, driver! Sir? Please, 
sir -" | picked up my suitcase and walked up to the front of the bus to 


address the driver, "- that was my stop! Could you pull over, can 
1...2" 


The fat, smelly man looked up at me, and scared me with his dark 
angry eyes. "Eh?" 


"Oh, please sir, my stop was back there?" 
"That was your stop?" 


"Yes, now please, please please could you stop the bus, | need to -" 
| almost fell over as the driver pulled over abruptly. 


"Nobody ever has that stop, we've been petitioning to get rid of it. 
There's nothing out there, you know. You sure that's your stop?" 


"Oh, | assure you, sir, there's something out there. You just gotta 
follow the trail!" 


He grunted, and shifted the toothpick from the left side of his mouth 
to his right. "Alright. Could | let you out here and you can walk back 
there?" 


| didn't like that idea, with how heavy my suitcase was, but | didn't 
want to bother him. "Yes, I'll get out here. Thank you so much for 
listening, | have no clue why nobody else stops there, it's such a 
nice forest. Thank you, thank you so much." He made the door 
squeak open, and | heaved my suitcase out onto the dirt. "I'll be off 
then, and take care!" 


"| will." He paused, and shifted his toothpick again. "Stay safe, 
y'hear? I've never heard of anyone stopping at that bus stop. 
Thought it must be a relic of some kind. Wherever you're going must 
be ancient." 


Before | could respond he closed the door, and the bus was off 
again. | was left in the dirt on the side of the road, surrounded by 
forest. Dirt? Oh jeez, that was mud. | sounded like a boiling teapot 
as | tried scraping it off of my shoes and onto a tree trunk. That was 
gross. | had only ever heard of mud — it looked like melted 
chocolate almost. | almost wanted to taste it, actually — but no, it 
was wet dirt. | shouldn't. Realizing that | still hadn't moved, | shuffled 
in place for two seconds before heading in the direction of the bus 
stop. It was only a little ways, but carrying this suitcase made it feel 
like a mile. By the time | got there, | had almost forgotten what | was 
doing. Thankfully, it was only almost. 


"Two hours off from where you are, 
Never near but never far, 

Can't find it upon your map, 

Let's all go to the Tourist Trap." 


Nothing seemed to change. | stood there for a second, and | 
repeated it a couple of times. It really was meant to be spoken by 
multiple people. | contemplated turning back, but where would | turn 
to? | was in the middle of nowhere, with no cars coming from 
anywhere, surrounded by woods. Maybe | had to grab the bus stop 
sign? | tried holding onto it, and saying the phrase, but that didn't do 
anything. | started saying it louder and louder, wandering a little out 
into the woods. Tried yelling it, and that didn't do anything. Tried 
hugging the bus stop sign, and that didn't do anything. This was 
bad, this was very very bad, and | was beginning to panic. | had mud 
on my shoes, | was carrying ten tons of suitcase, | was alone in the 
middle of the woods, and | had no cell phone or mobile device. It 
was crumbling. All of my world was melting, it started with my work 
and now it was going to end with me starving in the — wait. 


"We have been wanting to travel the world, 

And though we can not find you on any map, 
You've promised some haven to us boys and girls, 
We know you exist, you're the Tourist Trap!" 


Some underbrush moved out of the way, and a small path made of 
yellow bricks went off into the woods. Aw, that was sweet. A Wizard 
of Oz reference. | should have expected that. | should have also 
remembered the new pass code sooner. | forgot that somebody 


found that one out, too. We came to the house and found it all TP'd. 
It was a disaster. 


| grabbed my suitcase and started up the path. It was getting dark 
out, | must have been in a bus for a long time. Packing this morning 
took a lot out of me as well. | only could fit five different colors of 
paint. | was assured that there would be more at the Tourist Trap, 
but | really wasn't sure. | wasn't sure of anything anymore, really. My 
social standing must be in tatters by now. Gosh, this suitcase was 
heavy. | thought that if | didn't want to hold the suitcase for so long, | 
had better run. So | did. | ran and ran and ran, and it felt like it took 
ages, but then | remembered; Tourist Trap is always two hours away 
from anything. | groaned, loudly, now realizing that it didn't matter 
how fast | went. Two hours of carrying a suitcase was my fate. | 
moved at snail pace towards Tourist Trap, dreading all my decisions 
that had led me to this point. 


« Sometimes the Best Intentions are in Need of Redemption| 
Vend-a-Friend Hub|To Think I've Spent My Whole Life Waiting » 


To Think I've Spent My Whole Life Waiting 


The house was massive, and had a... well, it doesn't sound like a 
beautiful color scheme, but trust me. The dark brown and red were 
very artfully done. It would have made me happy if it weren't for the 
big face painted on the top. It felt like it was looking at me. | didn't 
like it at all. | climbed up the hill and out of the forest, up into the 
clearing around the house. The yellow pathway up to the house 
winded unnecessarily, but | followed it anyways because it was a 
charming detail. The flowers out front were bright purples and 
oranges and blues. Did anyone take care of them, or was it another 
product? The Ever-Bright Flowers or something like that. Nobody 
lived here, right? 


| walked to the back porch, opened the chair, and pulled out the key 
hidden in there. This key let me get to the Tourist Trap from 
anywhere on earth. Pretty cool, really. More important, though, was 
that it opened the door and let me in. Going through the back 
entrance, | walked into the upper middle class looking house. It 
smelled like freshly baked goods. It always smelled like freshly 
baked goods. | wondered if it always contained freshly baked goods. 
| began my search for such a bounty.