"It should still be working its way through various 'detours' as we 
speak," the man said. "We're home free." 


The woman didn't respond. Sarah could see the harsh expression 
on her face soften somewhat. "This has been happening way too 
much lately,” the woman said to the driver. 


"No shit about that," he said. 


The woman smiled at Sarah. "It's okay, baby," Agent MacGilligan 
said. "We're here to help." 


Strung Out in Heavens High 


PREVIOUSLY on THE INCREASINGLY POOR 
DECISIONS OF GREGORY PLUMP 


Gregory awoke in a large room, tied to a chair... 


"Well Gregory, you're in quite a bit of trouble," a 
monotone voice rang out... 


"It's quite simple Gregory. You've been snooping 
around..." 


"It's simple, Gregory. | have one question. What did you 
read about Ess-See-Pee Three-Five-Four?" 


It's - it's some kind of interdimensional portal that's 
spawning-spawning these anoma-hic-lous creatures exc 
- except it's some hic k-kind of coverup for something but 
it hic doesn't - doesn't say wh-what and | swear that's all 
| know p-please hic don't hurt me!" Gregory pleaded... 


The concern is how you saw the hidden writing in the 
first place. There was an extremely powerful antimemetic 
in place to prevent any human being from seeing it..." 


"If only inoculated human beings can see past that 
meme, and you weren't inoculated...‘ say you aren't 
human." 


"You've been under surveillance for the past three weeks 
primarily for your interest in SCP-354. Tell me, do you 
know what it is?" 


"At least the cover story works. No, it's more like an inter- 
dimensional airport..." 


We can't keep you in the regular Foundation, god only 


knows what you'd release next. We could shoot you, but 
that seems a waste of bullets. No, | have a better idea... 
Are you familiar with |®@%$%"&&%#?" 


Just pronounce !@%$%&&4%#? however you want. It's a 
jumble of sounds and phonetics that represent a language 
meant for nonhuman sensory devices. 


"Y-yes! Absolutely!" Gregory was lying through his teeth - he 
couldn't even pronounce j°£2*;, much less |@%$%*&&*#?. 
Gregory spoke plenty of Earth languages - they were structurally 
simpler than reality television compared to oe }; daB (the language of 
his home world), though Gregory could barely even remember the 
syntax of oe | daB - but he understood !|@%$%"&&"*%#? like an 
Internet troll understood the importance of Noetherian rings to 
noncommutative ring theory. Still, Gregory certainly wasn't about to 
admit that to his last lifeline. 


"Yow ag’... y’d" Y aDy’OA@, li¢’° Al?" O5-10 inquired. 


Gregory's only chance was that time-honored tradition espoused by 
intellectuals, gamblers, and children the world over: bluffing. 


"Y dy dAIOJAJA@ze-qee ¥ ," Gregory garbled out. 


Unfortunately for everyone, O5-10's choice of sentence had damned 
them all. Through some unfortunate celestial coincidence, Gregory 
had answered O5-10's question almost perfectly. To be fair, though, 
the question was plainly obvious, and its answer more so. 


"Call me impressed. Alright, Dr. Gregory Plump, you have a new 
job: official translator and diplomatic median of Site-354. Happy, 
escort him there and have Fly orient him. We'll hash out the details 
of payment and living later.” 


"Sir, this is a serious breach of traditional hiring protocols for 
Site-354-" 


"| know. | also Know that unless we have a new translator, our 
competitors are going to gain an edge - and we cannot afford that. 


Besides, I’m going off of your decision algorithms. | hope you don't 
mean you aren't worth the small fortune | paid for you." 


05-10 leaned closer to the screen. 
"Dr. Plump. This is a second chance for you. Don't screw it up." 


The computer screen blinked off, and then folded away into the 
droid in a process that made Gregory's eyes and brain ache. 


Happy stared at Gregory. 
"Let's go." 


The probes and tape binding fell away from Gregory, and he stood 
up gingerly. Happy was already zipping away into some far-off 
corner of the room. 


"Come on," Happy beeped. "Follow me." 


Gregory stumbled towards Happy, who waited by a large, 
technologically-imposing door in the far corner of the room. 


"This may hurt." 


Before Gregory could react, the highly advanced, multi-dimensional 
hive-mind quantum-computing artificial intelligence housed within a 
biomechanical interface extended two arms, one of which plugged 
into a socket by the door and the other into Gregory's nostrils. A 
brief spark of electricity leaped from Happy to both, and then the 
door opened while Gregory's eyes and limbs forcibly shut down. 


"Hey!" Gregory protested, his eyes screwed up in pain. "What's this 
for?" 


"We're about to cross through an interdimensional gateway. These 
are precautions. You're not authorized for further details." 


The droid snatched Gregory up by the collar and dragged him 
through the door. He could feel a smooth, polished floor. Meanwhile, 
Happy was talking again. This time Gregory could actually tell that 
he was speaking in a much lighter, friendlier tone. "Say, | think we 


take the initiative and that | can really help 
them out. You work for the government right? 
I'm a self-motivated worker, | have experience 
with Python and C, I've got a Masters degree 
in neuroscience, and | have work experience. | 
can send you my resume. 


« SCP-946 | SCP-947 | SCP-948 » 


got off on the wrong foot in there, what with me trying to interrogate 
you and all. Really sorry about that, I'm not too good at interrogating 
suspects. That whole sharp, professional Ga’'reth, that's not really 
me. That's just my job face." 


"Huh?" Gregory squeaked out. The floor was starting to become 
uncomfortably warm and he could hear chanting, chanting 
scratching away at the edge of his brain. "Gareth?" 


"Yeah. Sorry about all that, but you know how things are. Capture 

this, shoot that, interrogate this. Everyone here calls me Happy for 
some reason, but my... friends... call me Ga'reth, so you can too. 

I'm a silicon-based intelligence from the South End of the galaxy. | 
want to become a scriptwriter. It's nice to meet you." 


"Uh, this floor is kind of melting my shoes." Now Gregory could 
sense words of unmistakable power being uttered by ancient, 
enormous creatures so mighty that entire universes were but grains 
of sand in their eyes. 


"Yes, it does that. Just ignore it. So like | was saying, I'd love to be 
your friend. What hobbies do you have?" the Al chirped. 


The floor was now burning hot, and Gregory was feeling the heat. 
He could sense the creatures examining him, perusing him for 
weaknesses they might use to open a gateway into this dimension. 
They longed to wreak havoc on the world, purge the universe of life 
and tear it asunder. Gregory could feel his conscious mind slipping 
into oblivion as the twisted emptiness of the void seeped into him. 
An ancient, eldritch beast from a plane of existence too horrible to 
contemplate seeded itself into his subconscious, festering and 
waiting, plotting for the right time to end all creation. 


"|, uh, | watch... television. Reality TV, mostly." 


"Wow, that's amazing! I'm a movie person myself, maybe we should 
watch something together sometime! | like romantic comedies and 
offbeat films. Like Eat, Pray, Love or Pi. I've actually been writing a 
script up that will combine the two kinds of - oh, wait, we're here!" 


Ga'reth zapped Gregory again, and his vision and limb movement 


returned to him. Then his vision tried to free itself from his mind and 
take his limbs with it. His brain held on, but only just, and its grip was 
tenuous. 


They were inside some kind of massive airport terminal - except built 
in higher dimensions. The terminal extended for farther than 
Gregory could see. Every kilometer or so was punctuated by a 
control tower spanning the gap between the walls. Gregory looked 
up. Ironically, the ceiling was only about fifty meters above. He could 
just barely make out his feet. At first he assumed it must be some 
kind of reflection in warped space-time - until his duplicate started 
walking away. Gregory got a better look at the ceiling and, squinting 
his eyes, saw innumerable repetitions of the same enormous 
chamber spiraling upwards into infinity. Gregory looked down and 
saw that his floor was made of some kind of concrete. He could only 
assume that the same principle was being applied to the other sides 
of the terminal. 


In the center of the terminal lay rows and rows and rows of glowing 
red portals, through which all manner of fantastic and bizarre beasts 
and creatures shuffled through before being whisked away by panel- 
sized elevators on the floor. Some came out, others went in. A 
Panopticon-style control tower overlooked the portals, other such 
towers standing off in the distance. Behind Gregory and Ga'reth lay 
a similar, reddish doorway, which promptly blinked out of existence 
as soon as he noticed it was there. 


Gregory got a better look around him. In a massive cafe, gigantic 
cockroaches with beagle heads sipped coffee served by androids. 
Enormous sentient rocks and odors perused books and headphones 
in a duty-free shop. Walking fungal growths, electricity crackling 
through crystalline wiring poking out of their innards, sat on plastic 
benches engrossed in Here Comes Honey Boo Boo (Interestingly, 
the show had yet to be green lit for actual production). Not a single 
thing in the entire terminal spared more than a passing glance at 
them. 


It was bizarre, to say the least. 


Meanwhile, Ga'reth was talking. "Welcome to the Pit. Professor Fry 
will be here shortly to orient you. Wait here, do not move, do not 


touch anything. Just wait. I'll see you later... friend!" 
It zipped off. 


Gregory looked around. Things had changed in the thirty years since 
he'd first arrived on Earth. Back then it was just him and a few other 
dumb, hopeful souls. Nothing but a wish and a prayer. Now it was a 
whole operation. 


He was broken out of his reverie by a large rock-like creature gazing 
down at him, clutching two books in its four pincer-like hands. One 
was a rudimentary English-to-!@%$%"&&* %#? dictionary, the other 
a rather inappropriately named book that the poor sod had mistaken 
for a real travel guide. It mumbled something to him and pointed at 
the book. 


"Erm, over there somewhere | suppose," Gregory waved his hands 
in a general direction he hoped was correct (He wasn't). 


"Thank you," the creature read from the dictionary. It lumbered off. 


"Ah, Dr. Plump! Already getting acquainted with the "locals" | 
suppose!" 


Gregory turned around to see a two-meter tall bubbling mass of 
horseflies, buzzing in and around each other. The mass began to 
speak. "Hello! | am Professor Fry, the administrator of Site-354! You 
must be Dr. Plump. O5-10 told me you were coming" 


"Uh... yes," Gregory answered tentatively. He flicked a few 
horseflies off his skin. 


"Excellent! Welcome to Site-354, or as we usually call it, the Pit! 
This is the central hub for all Foundation processing of alien 
lifeforms into this reality. Here, we process alien immigrants, 
mediate diplomatic disputes, and monitor the borders of reality for 
undocumented jumpers. Follow me and we'll get you started! I'm 
amazed that 05-10 was able to find a new linguistics analyst on 
such short notice! How was your trip here?" 


"Um... uneventful." 


"That's a relief," Fry chuckled. "Funny story, really, all our analysts 
seem to be cursed. The last one, Feldman, for instance he was 
being stalked by a mannequin. But I'm sure that won't happen to 
you! Anyways, this here is a jump gate. Jump gates work... 

...think of it as a college application. Only the brightest can enter our 
reality. Any toys they have, well, that sweetens the deal. That's one 
of the only reasons O5-10 allows this place to exist, you see. He's 
terrified that one of these days we're going to attract an 
interdimensional war... 


...90, a fun tidbit about myself is that my favorite actor is Jeff 
Goldblum and also I'm the one who invented the jump gates. Tell 
me something about yourself... 


...major responsibilities will include maintaining communication 
between us and any negotiating party, analyzing communications 
from unknown species, compiling vocabulary, grammar, and syntax 
dictionaries on languages, acting as a sacrifice in case things go 
sour, et cetera... 


...Staffed almost entirely by androids - that | invented, actually - to 
keep personnel costs low. Some things we still need humans for, 
like diplomacy and translation, since not all life forms are 
comfortable with robots... 


...criminals and illegals trying to jump the dimensional borders. We 
usually try to direct them to that portal there, which leads to 
Area-354 and the "real" SCP-354 and let the goons there take care 
of them. Fun fact, 354 is actually just a vat of strawberry soda and 
ketchup. Looks evil enough and super cheap to replenish... 


...coffee machines in these areas, and exotic vending machines 
here, here, here, here, and here. | definitely recommend the 
Zerlaxian special from this one for early morning shifts, it'll definitely 
pick you up - actually it'll render you unable to sleep for about eight 
hours but that's still good... 


...and that should just about cover everything! We move fast around 
here and the pace doesn't slow down. But if you can keep up you'll 
find a rewarding job that has you meeting a lot of new people. Any 
questions? No? Good. Well," Fry concluded, "let's get you started. 


Here, this should be an easy job for you. Take this crystal." 


He handed Gregory a pair of gloves, waiting for him to put them on, 
then gave him a glowing, green, octagonal prism. It was smooth and 
warm to the touch. 


"This here is a temporal-relocation crystal. Short version, it allows 
you to bridge gaps between discrete time periods. Long version, you 
wouldn't understand without having at least three degrees in 
mathematics that have yet to be invented. Temporal-relocation ho! 
Now, this relocation crystal we picked up off an escapee from five 
centuries in the future. Be careful with it, by the way. Extremely 
fragile and extremely volatile. Normally I'd give it to an android, but 
these crystals wreak havoc on their clock distributors. We have 
some Zerlaxians coming to pick it up. All you have to do is give it to 
them and ask them to leave. Happy will escort you. Should be easy. 
Come find me when you're done." 


The Professor suddenly dissolved into a gigantic amorphous mass 
of horseflies, which proceeded to fly away. Gregory stared at it in 
disbelief, then at the crystal in his hand. 


At that moment, he was startled out of his wits by a voice coming 
over his shoulder. "Hey bud, it's me, Ga'reth! How are you?" 


Less than ideal, Gregory reflected, as he stared at the remains of 
the crystal he had dropped on the floor. 


«Act I: Domo Arigato 


Stuck in the Past 


“Mr. Krain?” 


| turned around and stared at an unfamiliar face. This couldn’t be 
happening; | needed more time. | stole the aluminum foil from the 
broken cabinet, grabbed the sweater that | repurposed into a bag, 
and made a dash for the fridge. All | just needed to grab now was 
the- 


“Mr. Krain, this is a restricted area.” 


| flung open the fridge and stuffed as many bottles of wine into my 
makeshift bag as it could fit. Now | just needed to get to the stall 
before they called for backup. | looked around the room for 
something to fend off the assailant as she raised a device to her 
mouth. 


“Please send security to the storage room in the cafeteria. Connor 
has broken in and appears to be having an episode.”