Gamut tapped the side of her nose, then started walking into the 
greenery. Krav gestured for Sedna to follow behind, then fell in at 
the back of the queue. They continued to walk; Sedna caught 
herself erring from Gamut's lead twice, involuntarily drifting from the 
intended path. After five minutes, as expected, they exited into a 
wide clearing. A small white aeroplane sat in the middle of a short 
paved runway; the trio walked up to the side of it. Gamut pulled a 
key from her pocket, pushed it into the small hatch on the side, then 
swung it open. Krav stepped in first, offered a helping hand to 
Sedna, and Gamut closed the door behind her. Gamut walked 


through to the one-pilot cockpit, having to crouch slightly to get 
around; Krav and Sedna sat in the two seats behind, buckling up 
their harnesses. Sedna rested the rusty toolbox in front of her, then 
queried Krav: 


"So, where now?" 


"Next stop, London. Too much Foundation presence in America, 
much safer in England." 


"And we're going there in this?" 
"Yes. Were you expecting a commercial flight?” 
"Well, it's just a bit small." 


"Small enough not to be detected, even if we weren't already 
shielded in a hundred different ways." 


"| see." 


Ex-Site Director Prewitt looked back at her watch, feeling her seat 
vibrate as the engines started up. Gamut started to accelerate. The 
small plane hurtled down the runway, then lifted off the ground. 
Sedna felt her stomach drop from more than mere airsickness. 


83 minutes until Seattle was irrecoverable. 


« CAVALCADE | CAV-002 » 


Someone Steals Aldon's Penis 


1. You should read Learning the Alphabet before 
considering reading this, at least to the end of the first 
act. (The content of this tale is probably the dream that 
occurs immediately prior to Boron Blisters, but there's no 
way to be sure.) 


2. Explanation of why this exists. 


This was written waaaaay back when 
TwistedGears, the author of Learning the 
Alphabet, had only written the first tale, Anart 
Antics. In chat, he had been discussing his 
plans for the series - at least, how the first act 
was going to go down. The plan was for Aldon 
to sculpt herself a new body, with the intention 
of inhabiting it, but then for that to never occur 
because of Plot getting in the way. 


Considering that the desire for a new body is 
why Aldon participates in the whole thing, | 
thought that was a bit of a disappointing way to 
end Act 1. And so, for the sake of closure, | 
recommended that, shortly after the terrible 
ordeal of Act 1 concludes, someone should 
just... run past and steal her penis, which 
would clearly solve all problems forever. (n.b. 
clearly not the case) 


This was, of course, a very silly idea. It was 
worth referencing offhand in Cool War 2, my 
2014 April Fools contribution. And then, 
foolishly, someone told me that it couldn't be 
written. 


So | wrote it. Woops. 


With that context, | hope you will understand 
that this tale is simply an exercise in 
absurdity, and | apologise sincerely for it even 
existing. 


3. Nobody should read this. It includes a penis 
swordfight. 


One of the few things that Jakeob Aldon liked about having been 
born male was that she could urinate while standing up. 


It was with a mix of confusion and astonishment, then, that she rose 
from her groggy, half-awake stupor to find the organ which 
accommodated said action missing. Aldon walked from the 
bathroom to the small parcel of chaos she tentatively called a "living 
room", then tapped her roommate on the shoulder. 


"Oi, Finn." 

Finnegan responded, not looking away from his computer monitor. 
"Wuzzat?" 

"Do you still have a penis?" 

"Um. Last time | checked, yes." 

"Check again." 


Finnegan pushed his fingers between his skin and clothes, then 
raised his eyebrows. He pushed his hand down his boxers, checking 
where the flesh would normally be. Finnegan scrunched his face into 
a grimace, finally turning away from his computer screen. 


"...!'m not sure what | was expecting." 
"When was the last time you... checked?" 


"It's not the sort of thing that | really need to investigate actively. 
Jesus, there's nothing there. It's like I'm a goddamn Barbie doll or 
something." 


Aldon rubbed her palms against her head. 


"| have no idea about how to solve this problem. | have no idea how 
to even begin." 


"Have you checked the tapes?" 
"Tapes?" 

"Like, the security cameras." 

"We have security cameras?" 

Finnegan blinked twice. 

"No. That was stupid. Forget | said that." 


The pair of them went silent, entering into deep contemplation for 
half a minute. 


This silence was then broken by a faint giggle from outside their 
window. The pair of them looked towards the noise, catching a flash 
of movement. They skittered towards the door, swinging it open to 
see a green gnome-like creature scuttling around the corner, 
cackling madly while holding a pair of fleshy lengths above its head. 
Aldon and Finnegan looked at each other, sharing a moment to 
relish the utter absurdity of the situation, before chasing after the 
thing. Finnegan shouted out to it: 


"HEY! | WAS USING THAT!" 


The pair turned the corner, sprinting down the sidewalk. Finnegan, 
used to sitting in front of a computer for hours on end, started to lag 
behind. Aldon, being much more athletic, kept pace with the rapidly 
moving creature. She put in more energy, slowly closing the gap 
between the two. The gnome glanced over its shoulder, giggling 
while its prizes wobbled around in its hands. This did, however, 
distract it from where it was going; it tripped slightly, losing its grip on 
one of the two. It turned to pick the organ up, but noticing Aldon 
closing, simply left it on the ground. Aldon slowed down as she 
passed the discarded member, deftly plucking it up from the ground. 


It wasn't hers. 


She blushed as she pushed it into her pocket; the thief was getting 
away. It ran carelessly through a set of traffic lights; Aldon weaved 
through speeding traffic to make her way across. It ran through 
holes in wooden fences; Aldon hurdled over the top of them. They 
ran to and fro across the town, chasing each other in a seemingly 
endless game of cat-and-mouse. 


Eventually, the gnome made a wrong turn, sprinting down an alley 
with no exit. Aldon slowly approached the tiny humanoid, 
menacingly towering over it. The gnome stood defiant, holding its 
stolen dangalang as a makeshift sword. It shouted squeakily at its 
assailant: 


"Have some honour! Fight me on an equal footing!" 


Aldon sighed, taking out the member she had already recovered. 
She shook it to attention, then closed in, crossing blades with the 
thief. 


Ms Doreen Stedtworth, an 81 year old lady who lived with seven 
cats, heard some kind of racket coming from outside her window. 
She decided that she would go take a look at what it was. 


whap whap whap whap 
"EN GUARDE, COCK GOBLIN" 
"THE PENIS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD!" 


Doreen would request a change in medication during her next 
doctor's appointment. 


Aldon disarmed her opponent, holding her own armament 
menacingly to her opponent's throat. It gulped down a knot in its 
throat, falling to its knees. 


"Fine, | yield, | yield! You have great skill with a blade, even though 
it is not your ow-" 


"God, just shut up." 


Aldon pocketed the pair of penises, then picked up the gnome by 
the scruff of its neck. She turned around, only then noticing Doreen 
Stedtworth staring at her. Aldon waved cheerily, then started to walk 
home. 

"So... reattaching them?" 


"Oh, they should just stick back on. Probably." 


The gnome sat tied to a chair as its captors turned around, 
awkwardly fumbling beneath their pants. There was a collective 
moment of uncertainty, and then sighs of relief. Aldon whispered to 
Finnegan. 


"So, we've got it. What do we do with it?" 

"| dunno. Throw it at the men in black?" 

"There's a line between just punishment and abject cruelty." 
"It literally emasculated me." 


"It's a tiny green dangalang thief, but it's not malicious, just 
mischievous." 


"It literally emasculated me." 

"We could probably keep it." 

"It literally emasculated me." 

Aldon turned around, putting her hand to her chin. 

"| wonder how big a cage we'll need?" 

"IT LITERALLY EMASCULATED ME." 

The gnome sat and grinned at Finnegan, squeaking a response. 
"You've gotta admit it was funny." 


"No! No, | don't! You can't go stealing other people's body parts! 


Allie, we know nothing about it! This thing could steal our eyelids in 
our sleep! We could wake up without fingers! And most importantly, 
our rent contract says no pets!" 


Aldon crouched down, looking at the gnome. It was, to some 
degree, adorable. 


"What's your name, little guy?" 
"Johnson. Johnson Theef." 


Aldon looked up at Finnegan, struggling to keep a straight face. 
Finnegan put his palm to his forehead. 


"Okay, whatever." 
And that was how Jakeob Aldon got her first pet. 


« I’d Rather Not Think | Hub | Lacerations To The Sternum » 


An Armenian Bodybuilder Exercises His Legal Rights 


It was refreshing to have bruises on my skin. 


My mouth felt slightly off. | reached up to my jaw, then clicked it back 
into place. | spat out blood and a few teeth, then felt hard matter 
extrude from my gums anew. The bruises faded away, returning to 
the colour of simple flesh. | grinned. 


At this, my opponent was somewhat taken aback. He responded 
with another punch. 


Heat flowed around my abdomen; the demigod's fingers ripped 
between my ribs and punctured my lungs, my previously inhaled 
breath now whistling through the open wound. He pulled back, then 
struck again, this time slicing my heart and stomach. My eyes 
widened, | felt blood and gastric juices start to pour into places blood 
and gastric juices should not pour into. Another blow popped my left 
eye; then my opponent took a step away. 


He watched, intrigued, as my muscles rippled and realigned. The 
pain used to bring me to my knees; now, with my steeled mind, 
there is only extreme and excruciating discomfort. My diaphragm 
spasmed and | coughed up blood and misplaced vomit, then my gut 
tightened and | threw up vomit and misplaced blood. The wounds re- 
knitted, my stomach and heart sealing; then my lungs, which felt as 
if on fire as | drew a deep breath. | stared into Perseus' face as | felt 
a lens pull itself into existence, and felt my eye reinflate with vitreous 
humour. 


Perseus grimaced. 


"Well then. It seems | was mistaken. Which member of the pantheon 
were you looking for again?” 


"Hephaestus." 


destroy the source of aggression or noise. This transformation 
involves said instance seemingly dissolving into the shape of a 
human skull, then launching a colourful material spray in the general 
direction of its target. This material will rapidly harden into coloured 
marble, coating the target in a heavy, sharp shell. 


This marble produced from SCP-569 is chemically similar to the 
normal Sylacauga marble that SCP-569 consist of, but contains 
simple pigmentation to lend to its various hues. In addition, the 
coloured portions are fused, solid sheets of marble; no seams, 
cracks, or similar structural flaws are present after setting. SCP-569 
will continue launching this material at its target until the target has 
been completely covered; material will fuse at the molecular level to 
the target's surface. At this point, the instance will revert to its calm 
state and resume aimlessly floating. 


Addendum - Cross Testing: Due to recent developments, 
proposals regarding cross-experimentation with SCP-2860 have 
been suspended. 


« SCP-568 | SCP-569 | SCP-570 » 


"You think... you're a son of Hephaestus?" 
"Yes," 


"With your body and build? The god of craftsmen? I'd think you to be 
one of Ares' boys." 


"My body is of his, for it is a work of art." 

| flexed for emphasis. Perseus smirked a little. 

"Maybe a son of Narcissus." 

"| don't mean to brag. This is not my opinion on the matter." 
"Then whose is it?" 

"Professor Mared Gretchen's." 

Perseus’ eyes widened at the name. 

"Old Mared sent you?" 

"If that is what you will call her, then yes. You've met her?" 


"No. She is, however... quite well known in our circles. She is known 
to override." 


"Override?" 


"Override and overwrite. The tales of Old Mared are... genuinely 
mythical, even to people like you or I." 


"I've not heard such tales." 


"Well... we try to keep them under wraps. They are mostly 
embarrassing to the rest of us. She kicked Zeus in the balls once." 


| felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Perseus scratched his neck. 


"Regardless... | cannot personally hold audience with Hephaestus, 
but | can certainly find someone who can. Your negotiations from 
there on will be your own. Understood?" 


"Understood." 
"Then let us exchange phone numbers." 


| passed a slip of paper from my pocket to him, he passed one in 
return. He looked over my body, still slightly damp and red from 
blood, then nodded. 


"It was good to meet you, Khoren." 

"And you, Perseus." 

Perseus started to walk away, then turned over his shoulder. 
"If you don't mind my asking, why do you want to meet him?" 
"Besides being my father?" 

"Well, yes." 

"He owes my mother a lifetime of child support." 


Perseus chuckled lightly and walked away. 


| selected the contact labelled "Prof. Gretchen" on my mobile phone, 
then called. After three rings, the Professor answered in her 
grandmotherly British accent. 


"Khoren, my boy, my boy! How goes the epic quest?" 


"I've got to say, Professor Gretchen, substantially better whenever | 
mention your name to people." 


| heard her laugh; big, booming, gut laughs that I'd seen many times 
before. 


"Good to hear they haven't forgotten me over there! The amount of 
drinking that went on at their parties, surprised they manage to 
remember their own names. Where are you up to?" 


"I've made some progress with things. I'm mostly just calling to 
clarify something." 


"Hm?" 

"Did you ever kick Zeus in the balls?" 

That big, booming laugh again, which | tried to interrupt. 
"Really though. Did that happen?" 


"Oh, absolutely. His fault for hitting on me. At the time, of course, he 
didn't know | swung for the other team, but he kept pushing and 
pushing. Clearly quite inebriated - normally a reasonable enough 
chap, but cannot stomach his alcohol. Goes straight to his head. 
Incapacitated him long enough for me to run out the back door with 
Eris and Athena though. Honestly, Eris throws much better parties, 
and Athena can do that thing where you tie a knot in a cherry stalk 
with your tongue." 


"But you never met Hephaestus?" 


"No, no, no. A few thousand years of turning down invites to sit 
indoors working on your next big piece, eventually they stop 
bothering to ask you at all." 


"| see." 
"Hm? What's wrong, boy?" 


"I'm not sure why you didn't tell me this before | left, Professor. It 
might have helped a bit." 


"Khoren, you get to my age, you gather enough stories to fill a 
hundred phone books. | could bore you to your death and mine with 
all the things | got up to with just that pantheon. And anyway, this is 
your quest, not mine. If | could just give you an address, it wouldn't 
have any meaning, would it?" 


"It would certainly make things a lot easier, though." 


"All | say is that nothing is easy, and the best things are the hardest. 
Gotta go, Khoren; have an appointment with a poker player." 


"Thanks, Professor. Talk to you soon." 


Perseus didn't end up calling; instead, he texted through an 
address, a date, and a time. | sent him my thanks in response. It 
was still not for another two days that he would arrive. | sipped my 
coffee lightly, enjoying the sun.