Count Rockula windmills his guitar and then smashes it over the 
table, knocking over the portrait of Timmy's family. 


So, do you understand now? 

Timmy: What's a camel toe? 

Count Rockula: It's a... well, it's... say, how old is 18 in bird years? 
Fade back in on the party. 

Dr. Bright: ...but it turned out he'd been dead the entire time! 
Captain and Tennille laugh. Tennille sips her eggnog. 

Tennille: Great story, Jack! 

Dr. Gears: Indeed. Quite an amusing anecdote, doctor. 

Dr. Bright looks to the camera. 


Dr. Bright: As you folks can see, this is already shaping up to be 
one happening party! It's a good thing | didn't invite You-Know-Who 
this year! 


Dr. Gears: Doctor? 
Dr. Bright: Yes, Gears? 


Dr. Gears: | was unfortunately not aware that the individual in 
question had been disinvited from this year's event. | informed him 
of the time and whereabouts of the festivities when he inquired to 
me regarding it. 


Dr. Bright: Oh, dear. If he knows we're here, then that can only 
mean... 


The door swings open on its own and in steps Able, wearing a hana- 
knitted wool Christmas sweater and a Santa hat. 


Able: Did somebody say par-taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay ? 
Everyone: Able! 


Able: Dr. Bright, buddy! What happened? | can't believe you didn't 
invite me! 


Dr. Bright: Able, at last year's party you drank all the eggnog, 
hijacked Santa's sled, ran over my grandmother, and then wrapped 
it around a pear tree full of unlikely Christmas presents! Don't you 
remember? 


Able: Not exactly... 


Wipe to a flashback of the previous year's party. An obviously 
intoxicated Able is being handcuffed and read his rights by a group 
of policemen in the background, while Bright and his guests are 
arranged in a semicircle on the floor around celebrity guest Willie 
Nelson. The partiers are clapping in rhythm as he plays guitar and 
sings. 


Willie Nelson: 4 Grandma got run over by a Keter!] 

J) Walkin' 'round Site 19 on Christmas Eve J] 

J) Now you can say there's no such thing as an Able line 4 
J) But as for me and Cain, well, we believe! 


Wipe back to the present. 


Able: Don't worry, Jack! I'm in a twelve-step program now. | 
promise, just one drink tonight! 


Able grabs the eggnog out of Tennille's hand and chugs it before 
tossing the cup over his shoulder, where it breaks on the floor. 


Maybe two. 
Dr. Bright: | swear, Able, if you ruin this party... 


He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a remote control. The lights 


on Able's collar start to blink. 

Able: Hey, hey, let's all calm down. How about | sing a little song? 
Dr. Bright: Alright. Show us what you got! 

A string arrangement begins to play as Able sings in a falsetto. 


Able: 2) Away in a coffin, collar 'round his head 4 

1) The little skip Able wishes you were dead J} 

J) The fools who oppress him, they all soon shall pay £1 
J) The little skip Able escapes on this day J] 


Tennille grimaces uncomfortably. 


Fade in on SCP-1156 (Wellington G. Wonderhorse) and SCP-1867 
(Lord Blackwood) side by side. Wellington is wearing his top hat and 
a hand-knitted wool Christmas horse blanket, while Lord Blackwood 
is wearing a slug-sized hand-knitted wool Christmas cape around 
his neck. 


Lord Blackwood: On behalf of her majesty the Queen and all her 
subjects, |, Lord Theodore Thomas Blackwood, th Viscount of 
Westminister, do most fondly and sincerely wish you and yours a 
happy Christmas. 


Wellington: And a very 'appy domestic from all the ‘orses of ol’ 
Blighty! 


Wellington turns to Lord Blackwood. 
So, milord, got any Steelys for yer own Bridgwater? 
Lord Blackwood: |... | beg your pardon, old sport? 


Wellington: Christmas, milord! Stayin' Pope? Got a walnut 
planned? Somewhere the shakens are hot and the ice rinks are 
cold? 


Lord Blackwood: | should hope that an ice rink would be cold, my 


equine companion. How else would it function? 


Wellington: That's not it atall, milord! I'm just askin' what a bungee 
like yerself gets up to when he's on a Salford and his trouble's not 
around to Gibraltar him when he's havin' a matinee with an lves! 


Lord Blackwood: ...Come again? 


Wellington: Oh, | get it. Think ye're too high-and-mighty to speak 
th'cant, 'do ya? Well, ‘least | ain't no bleedin’ tea mug. 


Close up on Lord Blackwood as his sluggish visage shifts from 
confusion, to realization, to anger. 


Lord Blackwood: You are such a horse's ass. 
Laughter. 
Fade in on the party. 


Able: So | said to him, ‘that's not my arm!’ And he said to me, ‘and 
that's not the queen of Gomorrah!’ 


Everyone laughs. The doorbell rings. 


Dr. Bright: Sounds like another one of our guests has arrived! | 
wonder who it could be this time...? 


Bright opens the door to reveal Dr. Rights, wearing a trenchcoat that 
covers her entire body. 


Dr. Bright: Why, if it isn't Dr. Rights! 

Applause. 

How are you doing? Come on in! 

Dr. Rights: I'm doing a lot better now that you're here, Jack. 


Cheering and raucous male hollering. 


You know, we are standing under the mistletoe... 


Dr. Bright: Rights, | didn't put up any mistletoe this year. The Ethics 
Committee is still reviewing the sexual harassment complaints from 
last year! 


Dr. Rights: Well, how's a girl supposed to have fun then? 

Dr. Bright: Why don't you sing a song for all these lovely people? 
Dr. Rights: Are you sure? 

Captain: Sure! Go for it! 

Dr. Rights: Well, alright... 


Rights throws off her trenchcoat to reveal a set of hand-knitted, wool 
Christmas lingerie underneath. Captain's jaw drops; Tennille slaps 
him and covers his eyes. Pounding bass drums and a lusty 
saxophone blare as she begins to sing. 


Dr. Rights: J] Santa baby J) 

I) Slip a gold watch under the tree, for me J 

J) I've been an awful good girl 

J) Santa baby, hurry up my chimney tonight £2 (wink) 


Narrator: And now, a special message from our sponsor. 


Fade in on Sally Struthers in a hand-knitted wool Christmas sweater 
against a black screen, standing in front of a table with a small 
mechanical contraption on it, as "Do They Know It's Christmas?" 
plays in the background. 


Sally Struthers: |'m Sally Struthers. Every year, the Manna 
Charitable Foundation helps thousands of poor souls around the 
world on the path to a better life. It's easy to forget in these hectic 
days that there are so many people in the Third World who don't 
even know the most wonderful time of the year is upon us. That's 
why we're asking for your help today with this. 


Sally gestures at the box on the table. 


This is the Christmas Miracle Maker. Thanks to state-of-the-art 
terraforming technology, this durable and easy-to-use device, once 
activated, will induce rapid and aggressive climate change in order 
to transform its surrounding environs into a perfect snowy winter's 
day just in time for a white Christmas. The seed banks and genetic 
samples contained within it will ensure that majestic evergreens just 
right for decorating and reindeer perfect for pulling a one-horse open 
sleigh will supplant local flora and fauna, and it can even whip up a 
Christmas dinner with all the trimmings for those souls in need! 


Every one of your donations puts us one step closer to our goal of 
manufacturing and airdropping 15,000 of these units across Africa in 
time for Christmas Eve. So please call in your pledge or write a 
check today - and let them know it's Christmas time again. 


Fade in on the party. Agent Strelnikov, who is wearing a hand- 
knitted wool Christmas sweater over his Russian Army uniform, has 
Joined the party and is regaling the crowd with a story. 


Agent Strelnikov: And then fourth dirty Chechen bastard says to 
me, ‘Please, kind and merciful and handsome Comrade Strelnikov, 
you would not be skinning alive a man who wears glasses?’ And | 
said to him, 'Well, now that you give me idea..." 


Everyone laughs except Bright. 
Dr. Bright: Strelnikov! 


Agent Strelnikov: What? You no like story? Is good story! Won 
second place on open microphone night at Moscow Comedy Club. 


Dr. Bright: But it's not a Christmas story at all! 
Agent Strelnikov: It happened on Christmas! 
Able: Sounds like my kinda Christmas! 


Tennille: Is that really what you do on Christmas? 


Agent Strelnikov: You think Chechens care when Christmas is? 
They sneak into base at night! Kill six of my men! Burn down 
Christmas tree it take Company B all week to decorate! Thatis 
Chechen Christmas! Ptooey! 


Dr. Bright: Can't you at least tell a story with a happy ending? 


Agent Strelnikov: Fine. Do you know American capitalist rnyming- 
man Dr. Seuss? 


Everyone responds ‘Sure!' 'Yeah!" 'Of course!' 


Good. This is Russian version of Dr. Seuss. Is called 'How the 
Chechen Stole Christmas! 


Everyone: STRELNIKOV! 


Agent Strelnikov: What? Has happy ending! Russia get Christmas 
back, Father Christmas send Chechens to Hell, everyone joins 
hands and sings. 


Dr. Bright: How about a story that isn't about Chechens? 
Agent Strelnikov: Bah! All good stories have Chechens. 
Captain: Well, how about a song? 


Agent Strelnikov: Da! | will sing traditional Russian song of 
homecoming. 


A jazzy brass instrumental plays as Strelnikov rises to his feet and 
begins to sing. 


J) Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, |a la la J) 

J) La la laaaaaaaaaaaa laaaaaaaaaaaa /a la 1 

J) Lala la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, /a la la J) 

J) La la laaaaaaaaaaaa, laaaaaaaaaaaa, |a la J) 

J) Trololololololo, lololo, lololo, hmmhmmhmmhmmhmm... 2 


Fade in on a rainy night. King Eugenio is standing alone in a field. 


Eugenio: Before we draw nearer to that stone to which you point, 
answer us one question. Are these the shadows of the things that 
will be, or are they shadows of things that may be, only? 


A lightning bolt illuminates the darkness. SCP-173, wearing a black 
robe with a hand-knitted wool Christmas sweater pulled over it, is 
pointing at a grave marker. 


One's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered 
in, they must lead. But if the courses be departed from, the ends will 
change. Say it is thus with what you show us! 


The lightning strikes again. 173 has not moved, and the camera 
closes in on the grave reveal the text on the grave: KING EUGENIO 
Il. 


No, Spirit! Oh no, no! 


The lightning strikes again. 173's other hand reaches out towards 
Eugenio as if to pull him into the grave. 


Spirit! Hear me. We are the fox we were. We will not be the fox we 
must have been but for this intercourse. Why show us this, if we are 
past all hope? 


The lightning strikes again. 173's hand is open and outstretched. 


Good Spirit! Your nature intercedes for us, and pities us. We will 
honour Christmas in our heart, and try to keep it all the year. We will 
live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three 
shall strive within us. We will not shut out the lessons that they 
teach. Oh, tell me we may sponge away the writing on this stone! 


Eugenio reaches out to accept 173's hand. Jump cut to his pet bed 
as he awakes from his sleep. Frantically, he pokes his head around 
the corner of the set and shouts to a shocked stagehand as he 
carries several cups of coffee towards the green room. 


Eugenio: You, boy! How much longer is there in the show? 


Stagehand: Why, about twelve minutes! 


Eugenio: Then we still have time! 
Fade in on the party in full swing. Bright looks at the camera. 


Dr. Bright: Well, folks, it's almost suppertime, and our guests of 
honor have agreed to cook! How's it going in there, you kids? 


Captain and Tennille emerge from a door leading to the kitchen, 
holding a silver lidded tray. 


Captain: Well, you know how you said to put the goose through 
SCP-914 on Fine? 


Tennille: We accidentally started it on Very Fine instead, so we 
figured we'd switch it to 1:1 and it'd balance out... and this 
happened. 


Tennille removes the lid to reveal a half-dozen live baby geese 
waddling around. 


Dr. Bright: This is a disaster! Now there'll be no feast! Oh, if only... 
The distant sound of sleigh bells becomes audible. 

...Could it be? 

Dr. Gears: It appears improbable. 


The door swings open and Dr. Clef enters, wearing a Santa suit 
topped with a hand-knitted wool Christmas sweater, and carrying a 
tureen of clam chowder. 


Dr. Clef: But it is! Ho ho ho! 
Everyone else: SANTA CLEF! 
Clef sets the tureen down on the table. 


Dr. Clef: Sorry the big man couldn't make it. He said something 
about the insurance premiums on his sleigh being high enough after 
last year. But he sent me along to deliver the greatest Christmas gift 


apparently returned from the Azores islands about two weeks before 
his death. He did not contact anyone following his arrival in the U.K. 
and did not return to the university. Professor had been 
conducting research in remote areas of the Azores for months ata 
time and had little contact with anyone during his absence. He 
recorded data and personal reflections in a series of journals, two of 
which were found on-site. Relevant and/or noteworthy excerpts have 
been transcribed and included for post-mortem analysis. 


Journal 772-B: 
Page 52 
12/ /19 


Finally, after months of fruitless searching and 
conducting the same mundane tests on local vegetation 
and perfectly ordinary insect life, | have found something. 
And it could be a discovery the likes of which | have 
sought after all my life. Something undocumented, 
something unheard of. That rare moment which I’m sure 
Steller and Darwin and all the rest took for granted, the 
feeling that you might actually be witnessing something 
new. Well, not new. Something ancient, really, but new 
to human eyes, looking back in time, or into the future of 
natural selection. It’s like what Arthur Conan Doyle or 
Jules Verne wrote about in their stories, only it’s bloody 
real. Lord, | know I’m a scientist, but even George would 
be excited about this. You see this George? | hope by 
the time you read this lovely little memento I’ve won an 
award | can wave in your face. Passion and dedication 
matter, it’s not just about lab work! It’s about risking 
malaria and dysentery and sleep deprivation and even 
death. | daresay it's all worth it now. Those larvae are at 
least ten centimetres long! 


Page 58 
13/ /19 


I've taken the carcass back to my campsite. It may not 


of all: chowder! 
Clef begins ladling soup out to the party guests. 


Dr. Bright: Well, isn't this a Christmas miracle! If only we had a 
roast to go with it, though... 


Eugenio: Wait for us! 


Eugenio comes running in from offscreen, accompanied by 
Wellington (with SCP-173 on his back), the Ghost Sign of Christmas 
Past, Lord Blackwood, Count Rockula, and Sally Struthers. 


Dr. Bright: King Eugenio! | thought you'd miss the whole party! 


Eugenio: Forgive our tardiness. We were delayed making some last 
minute adjustments to the Nativity scene. Count Rockula, if you 
would do the honors? 


Count Rockula: Of course, your majesty! 


The green screen is pulled away like a curtain to reveal the manger 
scene - with the baby pig as Jesus, the chicken, the crow, and a 
pigeon as the Wise Men, a lamb and a tiger as Mary and Joseph, 
and Timmy fluttering overhead as the angel. Count Rockula begins 
playing his guitar and singing. 


Count Rockula: 2) O come all ye rockin' 4 
J) Awesome and bodacious J} 

J) O come ye, o come ye J) 

J) And dig this rad scene J} 

J) Come check this shit out J 

J It's totally bitchin’ J 

J) O come and let us dig him 4 

J) O come and let us dig him 4 

J) O come and let us dig him 4 

J) Christ the Dude! 


Dr. Bright: Now that's the true meaning of Christmas, isn't it? 


Everyone mutters inconclusively. "Sure." "| guess." "Why not?" 
"Actually..." 


Eugenio: One more thing. We realized tonight... almost too soon... 
that we had been inconsiderate to our fellow beasts this year. We 
wish to make amends. Lord Blackwood, if you would?