[Doctor Carter grimly sets down a number of 
X-Rays of the inside of the man’s brain. Claw 
marks are clearly visible on the interior of the 
skull. All present gasp] 


Technician: “B-but they were supposed to be 
immune!” 


Dr. Carter: “Exactly [throws down a pair of 
earbuds, still covered in fur and teeth], they 
were our best defense aginst this 
Bearmageddon.” 


[All present silently bow their heads.] 


Dr. Carter: “No friends, we must not give up 
on hope. The vaccine is still under 
development, we can beat this!" 


General Bearington: "[squints] 
ROOAAARRR." 


[All jump up in surprise] 


Dr. Carter: "You're saying that there is no way 
the bears could have snuck those headphones 
in from the outside! ?" 


General Bearington: "[nods] roar." 


Dr. Carter: “ [turns to look back towards the 
corpse]. If Mr. Barrington’s assertion is true... 
[looks around at all individuals present] We 
have a traitor amongst us." 


General Bearington: "ROOOAAARRR."” 
9:45pm 


[General Bearington is seen hunched over 
sadly in a prison cell. Stripped of his rank and 
his hat. Other cast members are standing 
outside of the cell.] 


Dr. Carter: “I can’t believe we didn’t see it 
sooner. Mr. Bearington IS A DAMN BEAR.” 


President Obama: “Good work people. 
You've stopped the greatest threat to 
reclaiming the planet- .” 


Dr. Carter: “ No problem Mr. President happy 
we could-.” 


President Obama: “for Bearkind!.” 


[Majority of soldiers turn their weapons on the 
party] 


Dr. Carter: “Wait What!!???” 


President Obama: “ [Coldly laughs] oh foolish 
Doctor. So so intelligent, but so so stupid. 
What is the thing that we Americans pride 
most? [Dramatically removes his gloves and 
smiles as he reveals his claws]. The right, my 
dear doctor, to bear arms.” 


9:55pm 


SCP-3880, Rating: 169 
SCP-2338, Rating: 153 
SCP-2559, Rating: 145 
SCP-948, Rating: 134 
Operation OverMeta, Rating: 120 

SCP-3559, Rating: 71 

SCP-3772, Rating: 68 
SCP-3373, Rating: 56 
SCP-3224, Rating: 46 
Headache, Rating: 30 

This Year, Rating: 19 


[General Bearington is seen lying in a pool of 
blood. To his left, a headless and armless 
Obama corpse slowly freezes in the harsh 
Himalayan cold. Dr. Carter closes the eyes of 
his ursine - no- HUMAN comrade.] 


Dr. Carter: “I’m sorry friend.” 


[The entire scene is suddenly cast in shadow. 
Dr. Carter looks up. The bear's final push is at 
hand. Their entire army has formed into a 
mountain of bears which dwarfs even Mount 
Everest. Atop the writhing mass is Mount 
Rushmore. Every president’s face having 
morphed into a different kind of bear.] 


Dr. Carter: [Barely above a whisper] By god.” 


UNKNOWN: “ABOUT TIME YOU CUNTS 
CALLED ME.” 


[The clouds part and a beam of light shines 
through the heavens, Evaporating many of the 
bears. A figure wreathed in fire descends. 
Scantily clad angels wielding anti-tank rifles 
sing out a chorus of heavenly song aS music 
begins to play 


Jesus Motherfucking Christ: “[Cracks 
knuckles and draws twin AK-47s] LET’S 
START THIS SHITSTORM.” 


[The entire sky is lit up in a blinding flash of 
muzzle fire and quickly darkens with the rain of 
bullets.] 


10:45 AM 


[The ground is colored red with blood and bear 
meat] 


Jesus Motherfucking Christ: “[Scans the 
carnage] Welbp, | ain't cleaning this crap up. 
Have fun bumble fucks [turns to leave].” 


Dr. Carter: “Wait, Mr. Christ.” 


Jesus Motherfucking Christ: “Da fuck is it 
kid? Make it quick, | gotta be knee deep in 
Joan of Ark’s pussy five minutes ago.” 


Dr. Carter: “W-Well sir, | have a simple 
request. [holds up the corpse of Bearington] 
This man saved my life, he is a hero and 
deserves -.” 


Jesus Motherfucking Christ: “Yeah, yeah, 
yeah. | get what you’re saying.” 


[Jesus Motherfucking Christ takes General 
Bearington, injects him with a needle full of 
heroin, and embraces him. Both figures glow 
for a few seconds as holy choir music begins 
to play in the background. Bearington's eyes 
flutter open.] 


Dr. Carter: “B-Buddy?” 


[Bearington’s eyes stay fixed on Dr. Carter, a 
look of slight remorse on his face] 


Dr. Carter: “Buddy!” 
Bearington: “ROAR.” 


[Scene abruptly cuts to black. A squelching 
noise is heard. Cut to Dr. Carter’s horrified 
face. Cut again to the feet of the embracing 
Jesus and Bearinton. A single chunk of neck 
meat drops to the ground. Cut to Bearington’s 
face, dripping with blood and tears. The back 
of Jesus’s head begins to grow hairier. Cut to 
the head of a former president piled on top of a 


heap of bear corpses. He slowly chuckles as 
the heavenly choir of above beings to deepen. 
His laughter is quickly drowned out as the 
angelic symphony becomes an ear shattering 
chorus of roars. 


11:00 


Literally Everything: 
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRARPF 


Sympathy for an Empath 


| miss the children. 
| miss them so much. 
| miss Janey and Jake and David and Roxanne. 


These people are alright, | suppose. They're not the kids, but | like 
them anyways. | guess | should be grateful, really. They gave me a 
new home after the Doctor threw me away. 


| love them. 


| want to make them happy. Mommy always told me to be a happy 
girl, didn't she? | want to show them how much | really appreciate 
how much they're done for me. It's so, so incredibly nice what they 
do. 


| just wish | could talk to them. 


Of course, | can't. I'd need vocal cords to do that. Lungs, too. Heh, | 
don't even have a mouth most days. Even when | do, | can't use it. 
Not even to introduce myself. "Hi, my name is Leo, thank you so 
much for saving me, blah, blah, blah..." I'm thankful anyways, 
though. It's nice to feel...normal, even if it's just for a short period of 
time. | miss being...being... 


Cripes. | keep trying to remember that silly name. It doesn't matter, 
what's past is past and | can't change who | am. Yep yep, my name 
is unimportant anywa— Oh wait. Silly me, it's Jake! Anyways, | 
really can't complain. I'm a guest now! A guest to these wonderful 
people! It's not like much is different from the Warehouse and the 
Amaze-O-Sphere. All that's really changed is I'm not allowed to be 
all there sometimes (which | don't mind), and | get taken out a little 
less. But that's okay! This place is my home now! These people will 
never throw me away! 


Not like Wondertainment did. 


| thought | was part of the family...| never thought they would...1 
never thought they would treat me like Redd... 


They told me | was the Beta product...| was ready for shipment... 
...| guess | didn't change right one day. 


But that's okay. Because now | have this family! It's a lot less comfy 
than the bedroom with my brothers, but hey, it's better than the 
dump! Hahaha. 


Yessiree, | gotta remember that happiness is the selling point! 
Always be positive! Mr. Shapey's still on the clock! 


Tales T 


Table Salt 


Our relationship had always been a rather explosive affair. 


In the afterglow, after the sex, after the fight, after the blows 
exchanged, after the painful words, after coming home, after 
everything flowing backwards; | think. 


‘Do | want him like | want a gun in my mouth, or do | want him like 
oxygen?’ 


Staring at the ceiling and he’s breathing soft beside me. If | move an 
inch, he may be startled awake, looking for an escape from his 
nightmares, and looking for someone to blame. Looking for me to be 
his steady reassurance that everything is okay, then becoming 
hostile as | interrupted him from the nightmares he felt he had to 
face; he wants to wake up emotionally bloodied and bruised. When 
I’m sure that he’s still, | minutely move onto my side, wait for noise, 
and, when nothing happens, and my mind is therefore unneeded, | 
think about chemicals. 


Sodium, for example, is a highly reactive metal. Exposed to water, 
even the water vapour in air, it creates sodium hydroxide and 
hydrogen gas. The heat of the reaction tends to ignite the gas, 
creating a bit of flash and flame. Nothing too dramatic, but | wouldn’t 
recommend playing around with it. 


Chlorine is a highly reactive gas. Expose it to water, and you get 
hydrochloric acid. One great source of water is the human body. 
Breathe in chlorine, and it will turn to acid as it enters your lungs. 
Dangerous even in low concentrations, but at 400 ppm, it will kill 
you. Sometimes, someone will make it by mistake. But, historically, 
it was used as a weapon of war. Man has always been a monster. 


Sodium chloride is an ionic compound made up of one-part sodium 
to one-part chlorine. We use it to flavour food. Table salt. A bland 
result of two dangerous elements, which can be harmless. 


Remember, a hammer can create a blade or dull its edge. 


Did | think, at some point, with Kit snarling my name, that we might 
be salt? That we could somehow become less than the sum of our 
parts? That we might be safe? 


| know he is breaking himself against me. Breathing me in and 
turning me to acid. And | have never wanted quite so desperately to 
be somebody’s poison. My throat burns, and | imagine chlorine 
flowing down into my lungs. He is chlorine — dangerous to tangle 
with — whilst | am water — pure, a flowing stream. Together, we are 
fatal. 


| don’t think it would be the first time someone chose me as the 
weapon of their suicide. 


My body feels like it is turning into poison — poison for him. Yet, 
nothing will make me leave his side, from watching him in the 
moonlight, from holding him when he tears at himself from 
nightmares. 

| think, and it hurts, but... 


‘Does chlorine long for the caress of an inhalation?’ 


If | let him inhale me, he may die. If | inhale him, | may die. We are 
not table salt. We are not safe. 


He stirs at my side and I’m instantly drawn to him. He digs his nails 
into my back, hard enough that blood raises up into the little rivulets. 
| let him, anyway, even when the air is tangy and metallic. He 
forcefully turns me, forces me into a kiss. Despite my fears, | 
breathe into him, | let our dangerous elements mix until he pulls 
back, just slightly. 


"God," he whispers, against my mouth. “I’ve missed this.” 


And he doesn’t mean me, and he doesn’t mean sex. He means acid 
and flame. Fights and tension. Blood and bandaids. Sodium and 
chlorine. 


Not table salt. 


« Kit Always Used to Think She was Cool | Hub 


Tabled Theories 


They ate in silence, politely ignoring each other. The Doctor was 
busy writing away at a pad, so engrossed in his work he was hardly 
noticing what he was actually eating. The Research Assistant was 
silently contemplating suicide for the third time that morning. The 
cafeteria around them was humming away in that persistently soft 
buzz from the industrial ovens, freezers and hot plates. 


“It's interesting,” began the Doctor, crossing out a detailed equation 
and moving on to destroy the very basis of his entire theorem. As a 
silence lingered the Research Assistant felt his forehead crease in 
slight annoyance. 


“What is?” he replied, attempting to keep his voice smooth and cool. 
He did not mind working on the SCP as it was relatively harmless. (It 
wouldn't stop him thinking about killing himself.) He did not mind the 
other Assistants, Doctors and the Agents that always made him feel 
a guilty squirming sensation in his stomach. (The thought wouldn't 
go away, it chained itself to him.) But he often found the company of 
Dr. Wakefield to be infuriating. He wasn’t sure why. 


“Mmm?” the older man asked, glancing behind the spectacles 
perched on his nose. 


The Assistant held in the sigh. “You said something was 
interesting?” 


“Ah. | did, did |?” Wakefield quizzically inquired, placing his pen 
down. The fork was soon laid with it, so that both hands could create 
a flat plain for a chin to rest upon. “Oh | did. Yes.” Another pause. 
Being examined was much worse than sitting in studious silence, 
the Assistant realised. “I was just thinking about the Unified Anomaly 
Theory. You are familiar with it?” 


The Assistant nodded his head, non-committally. “The idea that all 
Skips are related, no matter how differing their anomalous properties 


SCP-949: Wondertainment Land 


Item #: SCP-949 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: The area in which SCP-949 
manifests itself is to be surrounded by two (2) meter tall electrical 
fencing. The perimeter of the containment area is to be patrolled by 
guards at all times, operating in groups of four (4). Due to the size of 
SCP-949, use of vehicles is authorized during security patrol. 


Any civilians approaching SCP-949 are to be taken into Foundation 
custody and dosed with a Class-A amnestic. Exploration of SCP-949 
is to be carried out using D-class personnel. Exploration of SCP-949 
must be authorised by three (3) members of Level 4 personnel. 


Description: SCP-949 is a large amusement park located in the 
state of which, according to the entrance gate and several 
documents within the park, is designated 'Wondertainment Land@". 
SCP-949 has been observed to periodically disappear from its 
location on several occasions, often reappearing several days after 
with new facilities. 


Facilities inside SCP-949 demonstrate highly anomalous properties, 
more information on which is available in Facility Log 949-1. These 
anomalous facilities do not appear to intentionally cause harm to 
humans, and no casualties have occurred during exploration of 
SCP-949 as-of-yet. All of SCP-949's facilities are staffed and 
maintained by instances of SCP-949-1. 


Instances of SCP-949-1 appear similar to typical amusement park 
mascots, and their costumes depict a variety of animals. All 
instances of SCP-949-1 seem to wear a unique costume, and no 
duplicates have been sighted to date. Autopsy of recovered 
SCP-949-1 instances show that their interior is composed entirely of 
wool, confirming a lack of human presence. SCP-949-1 instances 


are.” Dr. Wakefield gave him a condescending smile like he was a 
tutor. The urge of self-annihilation in the Research Assistant shifted 
towards a rapid dislike of where this conversation was going. 


“Correct, a text book answer, the one | was exactly expecting in fact. 
It would connect some of the more outlandish SCPs with the safer 
items. Like that hammer we worked on that refused to ever hit the 
nail it was aimed it. Some believe the U.A.T. might be a sort of 
calculable mistake in the laws of physics that spawns the occasional 
error and inconsistency. | find it interesting that no one has 
considered...” He pauses, his nasty habit, almost hesitant to 
continue. 


“Go on,” the Research Assistant prompts, prodding at his salad with 
a fork. He didn’t feel very hungry, there was a vice like grip in his 
stomach and he could not yet identify the cause. 


“Well, there has been some research into the idea of a collective 
subconscious. The collective subconscious | mean in this sense is 
the idea that humanity is somehow telepathically linked, like a 
network of wireless routers. These studies suggested this 
interconnectedness influences more of our behaviour then might 
necessarily be expected. For example, if you'll excuse the 
paraphrasing, when a group of people were told to solve crossword 
puzzles for a month they scored on average with the population until 
a day old newspaper was supplied. After that, they scored 
considerably higher than average.” 


The Research Assistant felt a pain behind his eyes. A migraine 
coming on? Possibly. But if he ever wanted a promotion it was good 
to keep soldiering on. Maybe he had a bit of a masochistic streak. 
“What does this have to do with the Unified Anomaly Theory, Dr. 
Wakefield?”