(At the order of the 05 Council member, Agent 
Harris reluctantly eats the remainder of the 
cake, over the course of half an hour.) 


Agent Harris: (Nauseously) How on... on 
earth did that accomplish anything? 


SCP-013-J: A world without cake has been 
evaded! 


Agent Harris: Are you serious!? Is that the 
only reason | just ate a fucking FISH SPONGE 
CAKE!? 


SCP-013-J: CAKE FOR EVERYONE! 


(Identical cakes begin appearing in the same 
way at every Foundation site on the planet, 
regardless of secrecy. Analysis reveals the 
cakes to be made almost entirely of halibut.) 


Outcome: It is reluctantly decided that 
SCP-013-J's suggestions will continue to be 
taken seriously and its orders followed until it 
ceases to be a valuable asset to the 
Foundation. 


SCP-0138-J Incident 1742B 


Date: / / 


Agent Griffiths: SCP... 

SCP-013-J: CUTTLEFISH OF... 

Agent Griffiths: ...ultimate wisdom, right. 
SCP-013-J: UUULTIMATE... WISDOM! 


Agent Griffiths: Cuttlefish of Ultimate 
Wisdom, yes. I've come for your report on 
future events. 


SCP-013-J: Senior Foundation Officer 
Spencer is in peril! GRAVE PERIL! 


Agent Griffiths: (Sarcastically) And, by any 
chance, do you know of a way to save him, 
which also, completely unnecessarily makes 
him look like an idiot? 


SCP-013-J: Anyone who witnesses Officer 
Spencer must hurl with all their might, 
whatever it is they are holding, at the good 
officer's face! 


Agent Griffiths: Yeah, why not? 


Conclusion: For the following two weeks, 
Foundation staff comply with SCP-013-u's 
instructions, throwing mostly food and 
stationery at Officer Spencer, until he is injured 
by a trainee, transporting an anomalous 
typewriter. During Officer Spencer's time in the 
on-site medical facility, Foundation doctors 
discovered a tumor forming in his brain, and 
ultimately removed it without incident. 


SCP-013-J Incident 1743B 


Date: / / 


Agent Williams: Cuttlefish of Ul... 
SCP-013-J: GAAASP! 


Agent Williams: (After waiting several 
seconds.) I'm sorry, was that an instruction, 
Ole 


SCP-013-J: The foul hand of evil has made its 
way even to this very sanctuary! 


Agent Williams: (Looking around nervously.) 
Has it? 


SCP-013-J: AGENT JENNIFER WALKER! 
Agent Williams: I'm clearly a man... 


SCP-013-J: REMOVE YOUR TROUSERS OR 
YOU WILL DOOM US ALL TO ETERNAL 
DAMNATION! 


Agent Williams: Ugh, seriously!? 


SCP-013-J: THE HOUR OF DAMNATION 
TICKS CLOSER! 


(Agent Williams is ordered to comply by the 
supervising 05 Council member. After 
hesitantly moving his hands towards his belt, 
Williams reconsiders and his face contorts in 
anger.) 


Agent Williams: No! You know what? FUCK 
YOU! (Points to SCP-013-J) and FUCK YOU! 
(Points to the camera through which the 05 
Council member is surveying.) | joined the 
Foundation to fight monsters, not to entertain 
some stupid, immature space fish! 


SCP-013-J: FOOL! You have doomed us all! 
Agent Williams: HOW!? 


SCP-013-J: Cuttlefish are 
CEPHALOPOOODS! Ignorance is the greatest 
danger in the ENTIRE UNIVERSE! 


Agent Williams: And | suppose we could 
have avoided this HORRIBLE 
CATASTROPHE if I'd been standing here with 
no trousers like an idiot! Well forgive me if | 
can... Whoa... 


(A black and red aura surrounds Agent 
Williams’ trousers and he begins to rise into 
the air.) 


Agent Williams’ Trousers: Mwahahaaa! Now 
that | have harnessed enough of this mortal's 
irritation, | can destroy this world and nothing 
can stop me! 


Agent Williams: ARE YOU FUCKING 
KIDDING ME!? 


Agent Williams’ Trousers: 
MWAAAHAHAHAHAHA! 


(Agent Williams’ trousers vanish in a shroud of 
black smoke, leaving Williams to fall to the 
ground.) 


Closing Statement: Agent Williams’ 
employment with the Foundation was 
terminated immediately. All future agents to 
interact with SCP-013-J are to be thoroughly 
evaluated by an on-site psychiatrist and 
selected based on past experience of dealing 


with similarly troubling entities. The hunt for 
former Agent Williams’ trousers, the newly 
designated SCP- __, is underway, but thus far, 
no progress has been made. 


SCP-551: Impossible Puzzle 


Item #: SCP-551 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-551 is to be contained ina 
simple cardboard box. It must be of an adequate size to carry all 
pieces of SCP-551. The box should be stored in a locker unit on 
Storage Site-23 and at least one (1) Level 1 staff member is to be 
notified in the event of its removal. 


Description: SCP-551 is a standard, five hundred and fifty (550) 
piece jigsaw puzzle, which should depict, in its finished form, the 
image of a solitary woman on a small rowboat, surrounded by a 
stormy sea. However, due to the nature of SCP-551's anomalous 
qualities, some details of the scene are left incomplete, such as the 
woman’s face and [DATA EXPUNGED]. 


SCP-551 was found in the apartment of after other residents 
complained of an odor seeping out from under the door. The 
severely malnourished body of was discovered beside 
SCP-551, with several pieces still clutched in her hand. Roughly one 
third of SCP-551 was pieced together on her floor. 


Multiple subjects testing SCP-551 stated that a completion of the 
puzzle seems inconceivable. The mental reactions of subjects to 
SCP-551 was diverse, apparently depending less on the puzzle and 
more on the personality of the subject (see Addenda 551-1/2/3), 
though the effects of SCP-551 on the psychology of subjects should 
not be overlooked. 


Addendum 551-1 

Standard Class-D personnel is tasked with piecing together 
SCP-551. Subject spent two weeks in a single room, trying to finish 
the puzzle, and pausing only to sleep. Subject became increasingly 
frustrated with his progress on SCP-551, which failed to span past 


SCP-732-J: Tiny Ceramic Seahorse 


Item #: SCP-732-J 
Object Class: Adorable 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-732-J is to be kept on Dr. 
Kiryu’s! desk. A routine care schedule of daily facial tissue buffing is 
to be carried out to maintain SCP-732-J’s high-quality sheen. 


Description: SCP-732-J is a decorative ceramic seahorse figurine, 
predominantly jade green in coloration and measuring approximately 
3 cm in height2. 


Though a significant percentage of individuals are immune to 
SCP-732-J’s effects, SCP-732-J possesses a variety of subtle 
anomalous characteristics, including: 


¢ Durability - SCP-732-J survived a vertical fall of 1 meter onto 
an office floor, and has endured two weeks without its daily 
tissue buffing without accumulating dust. 
¢ Visual memetic effect - Directly viewing SCP-732-J’s face has 
consistently triggered the voicing of spontaneous comments 
about SCP-732-J’s appealing anatomical features. 
Mild compulsion - human individuals who view and/or handle 
SCP-732-J are convinced of its indisputable monetary value 
and bargain price. Human individuals who handle SCP-732-J 
for extended periods of time will be convinced that it is or will 
become a cherished memento with a worth beyond that of 
common currency. Those who do not currently own a similar 
seahorse will desire to obtain such a seahorse. 
Mind-affecting facial structure - The craftsmanship of 
SCP-732-J indicates a certain level of attention to detail, most 
evident in the slight curvature of the mouth, suggesting that 
the figurine is smiling. This feature has been known to 
improve the mood of onlookers. 
Potential sapience - SCP-732-J’s relaxed pose and gentle 


curvature suggest that he is a good listener. 


SCP-732-J was purchased on / / , from the Aquarium gift 
shop in : following a routine Foundation staff work 
retreat at the location. SCP-732-J was part of a production set of 
forty other figurines nearly identical$ in appearance. 


Addendum SCP-732-J-1: Tiny Ceramic Seahorse is currently 
allocated to a timeshare at Dr. Mercer’s desk to maintain staff 
morale. Below is an excerpt of the interview immediately preceding 
confirmation of this containment change. 


Dr. Mercer: How is your seahorse? 
Dr. Kiryu: Tiny Ceramic Seahorse? 
Dr. Mercer: Yes. Him. 


Dr. Kiryu: Doing well! Guarding my paperclips, last | saw 
him. I’m surprised you asked after him, to be honest. You 
weren't really a fan at the gift shop. 


Dr. Mercer: The interns keep telling me he seems very 
comfortable next to the potted bamboo. Do you think 
you'll buy another one? 


Dr. Kiryu: Maybe. Are you going to try and talk me out of 
it again? | told you already, it's nice to have such a 
companionable paperweight that doesn't fall over if the 
desk shakes. Plus the seahorse was just four dollars and 
they don’t take up a lot of space compared to other 
decorations. And he's not a pain to clean if he gets dusty 


Dr. Mercer: ...Actually, | was hoping to get one for 
myself. And maybe my cousins. Your Tiny Ceramic 
Seahorse looks happy. 


Dr. Kiryu: Oh. 


Dr. Mercer: Also, |... | made a hat for the seahorse. 


As of this time, the number of individuals known to be affected by 
SCP-732-J's primary compulsion effect is increasing rapidly. 


Footnotes 

1. See Addendum SCP-732-J-1. 

2. He’s so tiny. Clearly, this classifies him as a Tiny Ceramic 
Seahorse. 

3. To determine this, the current owner of Tiny Ceramic Seahorse 
took care to examine every single other figurine and concluded that 
SCP-732-J was the most charismatic of the set. 


SCP-100000-J: Procedure 110-Overkill 


Item #: SCP-100000-J 
Object Class: Keter Keterer Keterest 


Special Containment Procedures: A single culture of 
SCP-100000-J is to be set in a petri dish in a hermetically sealed, 
lead-lined titanium! sarcophagus filled with acid. The sarcophagus 
must be set in a hermetically sealed outer sarcophagus filled with no 
more and no less than 50 copies each of the following religious 
scriptures: 


¢ The Bible 

¢ The Quran 

¢ The Torah 

¢ The Tao Te Ching 

¢ The Book of Mormon 

* The Bhagavad Gita 

¢ The Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey 

« The Necronomicon 

¢ The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins 


The outer sarcophagus must, at all times, receive broadcasts from 
four loudspeakers of at least two members of the O5 council giving 
live monologues of how awful SCP-100000-J is and why it will 
never, ever escape, destroy humanity, or find true love. 


This area must be sealed in a hermetically sealed outer-outer 
sarcophagus, which is then placed 5km underground, separated 
from the surface by 5km of solid concrete blended with the ground 
bones of saints. 


Area-100000-J has been established as a 100km radius on the 
surface above SCP-100000-J. The fence on the perimeter of 
Area-100000-d is to be electrified, irradiated, and equipped with 
autoturrets with mounted .900-caliber railguns. The gate to 


Area-100000-J is to be guarded by one 500kg, 3m tall ogre 
equipped with one 300kg, 5m tall battle-axe. The ogre must be 
completely deaf, by surgical means if necessary. All personnel 
requesting entry to Area-100000-J must answer correctly the ogre's 
three impossible riddles, each of which are lethal auditory 
cognitohazards. 


Any civilians, non-O5 Foundation personnel, animals, plants, or 
microbes that have entered Area-100000-J are to be subjected to 
termination protocol 30-Ubertdten. 


TP 30-Ubertéten is to carried out as follows: 


. Subject will be incinerated. 

. Subject's ashes will be double-incinerated. 

. Incinerator used on subject will be incinerated. 

. Subject's ashes will be soaked in bleach for five hours. 

. The bleach-ash solution will be subjected to 50 krads of 
gamma radiation. 

6. The irradiated bleach-ash solution will be locked in a 
hermetically-sealed capsule. 

7. The hermetically-sealed capsule will be encased in a block of 
solid concrete. 

8. The concrete block will be painted with the Latin version of the 
Lord's Prayer in lamb's blood and stored. 

9. Stored concrete blocks will be placed on a Foundation 
spacecraft twice monthly and launched into the center of the 
Sun. 

10. The Sun will be angrily flipped off four times monthly by all 
members of the O5 council. 


akRWN — 


Any containment breach of SCP-100000-J can only be counteracted 
by activation of all seven of the O5 council's instant supermassive 
black hole generators. This will result in an XK-class end-of-the- 
world scenario, but failure to do so will allow SCP-100000-J to cause 
an K-class "Dance of a Thousand [DATA EXPUNGED)]" scenario. 


Any and all information about SCP-100000-d is restricted to level 4 
personnel or above. As a result, the author of this page is to be 
termiwait what the fuck guys | thought HEY JESUS FUCK OFF 
WHAT 


Description: SCP-100000-J is an indestructible, sentient, sapient, 
hostile bacterium2. Its diet consists of souls, dreams, emotions other 
than sadness and fear, and small children's imaginary friends. 
Cultivation of SCP-100000-J on substrates composed of finely 
ground shattered hopes and broken dreams was exceptionally 
successful. 


It reproduces asexually and is capable of infecting a populated area 
of 50 square km every nanosecond. Infected organisms will die, 
rejuvenate, [DATA EXPUNGED], die again, then explode. 


SCP-100000-J is capable of speech, but speaks a language entirely 
composed of lethal cognitohazards, with no equivalent phrase for 
"please," "thank you," or "I'm sorry." It has also made disparaging 
remarks about the Area-100000-J Site Director's mother, which 
caused the Site Director's mother to die, rejuvenate, [DATA 
EXPUNGED)}, die again, then explode. 


Addendum 1 - 10/2/14: Implantation of 4,000 emergency nuclear 
warheads at Area-100000-J has been determined to be too frivolous 
and costly, and the application has been rejected by O5-11. 
However, implantation of 3,900 emergency nuclear warheads is 
gaining traction as a basic necessity, and is under careful 
consideration. 


Footnotes 

1. Since pure titanium is gradually proving insufficient as a means of 
containment of SCP-100000-J, the construction of a prototype 
containment cell out of carbon nanotube weave reinforced with 
alternating diamond, adamantium, and neutronium layers is 
underway. 

2. Formerly known in the scientific community asstreptococcus 
ectovorens, colloquially as "soul-eating bacteria" 


SCP-334-J: The Lost Sock Room 


Item #: SCP-334-J 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: Due to SCP-334-J's unique 
nature, total containment has proven impossible, although human 
access to SCP-334-J is to our knowledge, only possible to the SCP 
Foundation, due to our resources. Nevertheless, SCP-334-J is to be 
patrolled weekly to search for signs of occupation or use by third 
parties, including any groups of interest such as the Chaos 
Insurgency or [DATA EXPUNGED] 


Description: SCP-334-J is an extradimensional "pocket" of space, 
although it is consistent with terrestrial physical laws. SCP-334-d is 
interesting in that it appears to have a low separation threshold from, 
or a weak boundary with, other planes of existence, including ours; 
and the equivalent of a negatively pressured atmosphere- resulting 
in numerous small, invisible gaps in our dimension, leading to 
SCP-334-J. For reasons yet unknown, these gaps tend to 
materialize indoors, most commonly in domestic bedrooms and 
laundry rooms. The negative pressure results in items being drawn 
into SCP-334-J, which for unknown reasons are always articles of 
clothing, and most commonly socks or leggings. 


It has been theorized that over 80% of civilian households have 
these small entrances to SCP-334-J, although incidents are 
thankfully uncommon. 


SCP-334-J's existence was entirely theoretical up until [DATA 
EXPUNGED], when the Foundation decided to investigate. SCP- 
was recruited, and agreed to use his abilities to locate SCP-334-J. 


Addendum: Those with Level 2 Security Clearance should see 
Document 334-J-42 


Document #334-J-42: