"Good to see you too, Morgan." Liu patted his old friend on the 
shoulder, then said a bit more softly. "We got company. Go easy on 
them okay? They're understandably a bit spooked." 


"No problem." Phillip turned to greet the new arrivals. "So, you're 
from Aquagene?" 


Morgan took a moment to take in the two scientists. Liu was right. 
They looked pretty damn terrified. The woman on the right looked 
like she actually might faint at any moment. She had black, thick- 
rimmed glasses and strikingly pink hair, almost like bubblegum. She 
was also rather skinny, which only accentuated her height; she 
stood a good ten centimeters above her colleague, though the 
Japanese man was shorter than average too. Even still, Phillip, a 
muscular Jamaican field agent, towered above both of them at 195. 


The Japanese man was trying to remain calm. He's probably the 
senior scientist, maybe even the head, Morgan noted. He was a bit 
round, though not overweight, with prominent eyebrows and short 
salt-and-pepper hair. 


Phillip walked up to the pair. "Hello. My name is Phillip Morgan, I'm 
one of the field agents that helped capture the animal you're going 
to study. I'm sorry we had to bring you in like that, but, we're trying to 
keep a low cover with this thing. Haven't seen anything like it before, 
and this place is supposed to be a secret." 


Watkins’ knees were shaking, but she felt her voice coming back. 
"Y-," she managed to choke out. "Who-who... are you people?" 


"Y-yes." Nakamura added. "I don't think you're EPA, or-or at least 
no-normal EPA. What are you?" 


"I'm sorry, your names are again?" Morgan frowned. He forgot what 
Liu had told him before heading out. 


been under the effects of SCP-796 for six months. 


Addendum-796-02: Excerpt from interview conducted with 
Subject-796-17 on 12/03/2005 by Dr. Nico Rei, Site-32 humanoid 
containment psychologist. The interview was conducted as part of a 
routine psychological examination of human and humanoid subjects. 
Superfluous dialogue has been removed for brevity. 


<Begin log> 


Dr. Rei: So, can you elaborate a little more on how - and 
when - you first noticed your condition? 


Subject-796-17: It's hard to pin down a time. | wasn't in 
the best of states last year - my roommate moved out in 
April, | had to quit my job in May. Then there was that 
accident outside the grocery store - god, that was bad, it 
was just awful. And after that, it just, y'know, got hard for 
me to go out anymore. So | didn't. 


Subject-796-17: Then | started noticing things, seeing 
things. At first | thought it was the shadows - my 
apartment doesn't get much light, you see. But turns out | 
was right. | would look at the dark places and | would 
look away and there it would be, watching me. I'd catch 
glimpses, ears and a tail, but that was it. 


Dr. Rei: What was your reaction to all of this? 


Subject-796-17: You know, | don't really think | cared. 
Nothing really mattered at that point. Not even when the 
scratches started appearing and the growling stopped 
being just in my head. When people stop messaging you 
and the world forgets you exist, it's hard to see any of 
this as really... real, you know? 


Subject-796-17: So on a bright sunny morning in July | 
closed the windows and turned off the television and | 
popped five strips’ worth of Ambien - it was hard enough, 
with those claws getting in the way, but | managed - and 
| poured a glass of water and | took it all in and | laid 


"Sorry, Morgan." Liu walked back over. "This is Dr. Pearl Watkins," 
he gestured towards the woman. "And Dr. Marcus Nakamura." 


"Right. Thanks, Matt," Morgan said. "Dr. Watkins, Dr. Nakamura, I'm 
afraid we can't tell you who we are, but you're right, we're not 
exactly EPA. However, we can tell you that we are very much 
concerned with the threat this creature has, given its... mutations. 
We can also guarantee that while you are with us, we won't hurt 
either of you. All we want is your help in studying this." 


Dr. Watkins gulped. "W-what's a D-Class?" 
Phillip frowned. "I'm sorry?" 


"|-| heard y-your voice... on the radio." Watkins said shakily. "You 
said something about this thing eating a-a D-Class. Is-is that bad?" 


Morgan opened his mouth to reply, but Liu suddenly stepped in 
again. "No, Dr. Watkins, no need for concern," he said, trying to 
sound as casual yet convincing as he could. 


"S-sorry?" Watkins whimpered. 


"D-Class is just the terms for one of the drugs we mix into its food. 
You see, its blood and waste are highly toxic. Obviously that's a 
health hazard to our researchers, but we've managed create 
something that lowers this amount to a reasonable level." It wasn't 
an exact lie. Site-71 had found a way to reduce 2761's carcinogen 
output. Although, it didn't involve D-Class. It involved bananas. 


Of course it did, Liu thought to him. Bananas. Everything involves 
bananas with this thing. 


Watkins and Nakamura seemed to relax considerably after hearing 
this. 


Good thinking, Matt. Morgan thought. Always quick on the draw. 


"O-okay," Watkins was breathing a bit easier now. "Wh-what's 
gonna happen to us if we help you?" 


"You're free to go, of course," Morgan said. "Of course, we will have 


to keep an eye on you and your company for a while after. We want 
this thing under wraps. You'd have to keep it a secret. If you told 
anyone... there would be consequences. Not that we want to go that 
route." 


There was a potent silence for a minute as everyone in the room 
took in what was going on. 


Finally, Dr. Nakamura spoke up. "So... how big has this thing 
gotten?" 


Pearl shifted uncomfortably. "Um... Marcus. What?" 


Despite the tension of the situation, Marcus managed to crack a 
weak attempt at a smile. "How big is this bananafish now? If Perkins 
was involved, I'm pretty sure he would have messed around with its 
growth rate." 


"It's currently at around five meters," Morgan said flatly. "And it will 
probably still grow as time goes on." 


"Oh... |... see." A strange look suddenly overcame Marcus' face, as 
if he was calculating several things at once. After another moment, 
he piped up again. "You said it was asleep right now?" 


"Erm, Marcus, fish don't sleep," Watkins said awkwardly. "They just 
kind of—" 


"Yes, Dr. Nakamura," Liu replied. "It's currently knocked out right 
behind those doors." He gestured towards 2761's containment pen. 
"Are you feeling well enough to look at it right now? We'll send you 
in with guards of course." 


"|-" Nakamura paused for a moment. "Yes, Mr. Liu, | will go in right 
now." 


"Marcus?!" Watkins said, bewildered. "What are you—" 


"Pearl, it's a giant bananafish. Our bananafish." Dr. Nakamura 
looked a bit excited. "Don't you want to see it too?" 


On the side, Matthew and Phillip exchanged nervous glances with 


each other. 


"| — Well, | mean - But —" Pearl sputtered, confused at the sudden 
shift in mood. 


"Pearl, a giant, mutant bananafish." Dr. Nakamura enunciated every 
word. "Come on, this is the kind of stuff that inspired us to start 
Aquagene in the first place! Thinking up crazy stuff and watching 
that stuff come to life!" 


"Really, Marcus, really?!" Pearl's voice rapidly climbed in pitch and 
volume as she stared at her friend in disbelief. "You're serious?!" 


"Yes, yeah, | think | am," Nakamura replied. He turned to Liu and 
Morgan. "We'll help you, sirs," he said confidently. "What do we 
need to do?" 


Liu blinked. Phillip spoke up for him. "Thank you, Dr. Nakamura. We 
can get you geared up with protective suits right away. Matthew and 
| will accompany you into its room." 


"Yes. Thank you, Dr. Nakamura." Liu tried not to grit his teeth as he 
shot a sideways glare at Morgan for volunteering him. You're 
enjoying this, aren't you? 


Phillip's eyes betrayed a hidden grin. /'d be lying if | said | wasn't. 
This man loves his job. 


Liu sighed. "All right." He reached for his radio. "Be advised, this is 
Agent Level 2 Matthew Liu, and Agent Phillip Morgan. We are 
gearing up for entrance into 2761's containment unit with two I-Class 
Persons of Interest. Clearance code whiskey, whiskey, niner, delta." 


"Copy that, Liu. Clearance code confirmed. Do you accept 
responsibility for the two POI?" A stern woman's voice responded. 


"Affirmative." Liu replied. 
"Affirmative." Morgan said. 


"All right, gear up. Suit room is unlocked." 


A buzzer went off as the doorway adjacent to 2761's pen clicked 
open. Inside, Watkins and Nakamura could see neon yellow hazmat 
suits hanging on a rack. 


Morgan and Liu walked past the Aquagene scientists. Liu turned 
around. "Come on, Watkins, Nakamura. Suit up. Don't worry, you'll 
be safe, Morgan and | will have your backs." 


Nakamura nodded and eagerly followed behind. He had the look of 
a child on Christmas morning. As he walked behind, Watkins could 
swear he heard him singing a song under his breath. Except he 
was saying "fish". She stood still for a few moments longer. 


"Why, Marcus?" she whined. 


She then followed them into the room. 


Ten minutes later, Liu, Morgan, Watkins, and Nakamura all walked 
out fully suited up. Wakins and Nakamura held packs of various 
medical and testing equipment. Liu and Morgan both carried giant 
rifles filled with tranquilizer. 


A voice called out on the loudspeaker. "NOW OPENING DOOR TO 
SCP-2761." 


Watkins and Nakamura looked at each other from behind the visors 
of their hazmat suits. 


"Ready?" Nakamura asked. 
"No," Watkins groaned. 
"Great! Let's check this fish out!" 


The doors whooshed open. The whole room was filled with the smell 
of bananas. 


And Liu, Morgan, Watkins, and Nakamura all walked in. 


"What... the hell." 


"That is nota fish." 


« | Bananazilla Begins, Part | | COMING SOON » 


Bavarian Fire Drill 


Colonel Cook's eyes had never been narrower as he read over the 
neatly-typed piece of paper that had landed on his desk that 
morning. Across said mahogany authority symbol, a thin young man 
in a smart uniform sat with his hands quietly folded in his lap. The 
half-smoked cigar in Cook's lips swayed from side to side. Finally, 
setting it down atop a pile of novel-length proposals, he ashed his 
stogie. 


"What the hell kind of a plan is this?" 


Smiling, the young man took his paper back, tucking it into an empty 
tan briefcase. "One that might work, Colonel. One that makes sure 
we don't have much to lose." 


"You're talking about infiltrating a Jailhouse with nothing but the 
clothes on your back, and your buddies by your side. No guns, no 
plan, no nothing. It's suicide." 


Rolling his eyes, the young man crossed his arms. "Suicide is 
rushing into the bowels of a Foundation site with only sci-fi portals to 
get you home. It's letting every Task Force operative in a bi-country 
area know that they can earn an easy Foundation Star by 
suppressing those nasty Insurgents. We can't beat the Foundation 
in a shootout. Not yesterday, today, or tomorrow." 


For a few moments, Cook steeled his gaze and worked the eyebrow 
game. Finally, throwing up his hands while spinning a revolution in 
his swivel chair, Cook answered. "Fine. Go for it. If you and your 
pals end up detained in the blackest site in the man on the moon's 
asshole, don't come crying to me." 


A smile slowly emerged across the young man's face. Nodding 
profusely, he stood and stuck out a hand to his superior. "Thank you 
sir. | promise that you won't regret this." 


Grabbing the hand with vigor, Cook yanked to bring the young man 
within a few inches of his face. "It's not me who has to worry about 
regretting something, Parker. Stay frosty out there." 


With that, he let go, and the young man was soon gone. 


The drive to the SCP Foundation's Site-77 was an arduous, rocky 
journey. Especially in a small car being occupied by three heavily 
outfitted men. The air conditioning had given out several minutes 
after they started, leaving them to stew in both body and mind. 
Parker was the driver, with his comrade Maria working the Google 
Map while Peterson and Joel jostled in the backseat. 


"Are we there yet?" Asked the pair, in almost perfect unison. 


"Almost." Maria turned to face them, sticking a cracked phone 
screen towards their faces. "You remember the plan, ja?" 


Nodding, they reached into the deep pockets of their facsimile 
uniforms and began reading the smudged inky mess before them. 
"Get in, walk to the vault, pull out anything small and not-too- 
dangerous looking." 


"Right. Whose job is it to stick a headset in and mumble if somebody 
gets too close?" 


Both men pointed to the other. Maria sighed, and turned back 
around. "We're all going to die, aren't we?" 


"Everybody dies, Maria." Parker took a bite from his protein bar as 
he narrowly avoided careening off one of a seemingly endless series 
of tight mountain turns. "The point is to live life to the fullest while it's 
still here." 


"Sure, yeah, | get that... but this goes a little beyond that. We'll be... 
isn't this really the belly of the beast here?" 


Lurching forward from the backseat came Peterson, strapping a 
helmet across his chin. "Aw, cheer up Maria. This is gonna be a 
blast. Bigger thrill than even getting your rocks off, | bet." 


"Rocks? Don't tell me there's an avalanche." Joel poked his head 
behind his companion. "If there is, I'm outta here. For reals." 


"Is nobody wearing their seatbelts here? Really guys? Let's at least 
pretend to be professional here." Parker grunted, spinning the 
steering wheel aggressively against the forces of Newton. "We're 
gonna be pulling up here any minute, and | don't want this to look 
like amateur hour." 


Silently returning to their seats, three clicks rang out in unison. 
"Really? You too, Maria?" 
"Bite me. | had tacos for breakfast, my stomach is bloats as fuck." 


"Fair enough." 


Getting inside had been surprisingly simple. Flash an ID badge here, 
act impatient with a perimeter guard there, grease the parking guy's 
palm with five Euro and a sob story, this brought them all inside. 
Almost. There was still the matter of actually entering the building. 
Buttoning up the last few bits of his lab coat, Parker hung his ID 
badge from a coat pocket and practiced scribbling upon his 
clipboard. 


Joel and Peterson marched smartly on either side of him. Their 
uniforms were nowhere near impeccable, and Maria's costume had 
different colored socks. Flashing a piece of plastic with the 
Foundation's logo at the door guard, Parker felt the whoosh of 
conditioned air brush through his hair. Three steps later they were 
inside one of the most heavily fortified Foundation facilities, for 
better or for worse. 


The inside of Site-77 was a sterile beige, the sounds of office work 
hung in the air like smoke in a bar. Busy looking people in glasses 
scurried from door to door, as the labyrinthine corridors made for 
arduous passage between meetings and offices. The walls were 
lined with LCD screens, some surrounded by bleary-eyed individuals 
holding coffee cups or mugs of unknown liquid, reading news 
bulletins and organizational updates as they scrolled across the 


screen at an agonizing pace. 


Smoothing back his hair, Parker stood in place at an unoccupied 
monitor and observed. After a few moments, some bullshit about a 
vault made its way onto the densely packed informational screen. 
Maria saw it first, whispering almost as quietly as death. "Level 
Nine." 


Spinning on a dime, Parker boldly strode forward, furiously 
scribbling a picture of himself fornicating with a unicorn as they 
zigged or zagged through a seemingly endless series of 
interminable hallways. Finally, they stood before an elevator. 
Perusing the up and down options for a few moments, Parker 
nodded for Peterson to poke the down buttons. Vaults and Nines 
usually go down, right?