“Do whatever you want. | won’t stop you,” he replied. “Just be sure 
to shut down the Kaleidoscope afterwards. | don’t want a mobile 
task force to come storming through one of those doors.” 


“Thank you,” she said. She handed the SCP report over to Victor. 
“This is the one we want Emcee D. Essie P number 1860. | want 
literally every last scrap of information you have on the place they're 
holding him.” 


“Excellent. | will inform my superiors and contact you once we have 
decided what items we would consider acceptable payment for our 
services and proceed from there,” he said, gathering his briefcase. 

“If there’s nothing further?” 


“One more thing,” the Ringmaster said, pulling out a VIP pass from 
her pocket and holding it out to him. “I want you to come here off the 
clock sometime, our treat. You need to really experience the Circus 
if you’re going to be our Emcee D rep. Wear a cheaper suit though. 
Some of our acts can get a bit messy.” 


“...Right. Yes, |, it’s just that my schedule with Marshall, Carter, & 
Dark isn’t exactly 9-5, and your Circus doesn’t publish its tour 
schedule so | don’t know how we would...” 


“You have Gary’s number. Just give him a ring whenever you're free 
and he'll send someone through the doorway to pick you up,” she 
said firmly. 


Victor errred and ahhhed for a moment trying to think of a way to 


refuse, when Ragamuffin became animate. She took the ticket from 
the Ringmaster and walked it across the desk to him, waving it 
enthusiastically. Her button eyes were spinning slowly, and her 
stitched mouth gradually opened in a black smile that unleashed 
faint and otherworldly screams. 


“Awwww, she likes you!" Lolly cooed. "Now you have to come back, 
or you'll hurt her feelings.” 


“| wouldn’t want to do that,” he replied, gingerly accepting the ticket. 
Why didn’t | just say | was afraid of clowns? 


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will power on normally, but contain no stored data. If SCP-624 
detects the tone from a pair of headphones, SCP-624 automatically 
fills its library with two gigabytes worth of music. The music, in 
question, is all written, produced, played, and sung by the wearer of 
the headphones, regardless of current musical talent. Each song 
comes with an appropriate aloum cover and the listener's artist 
profile, which is factually incorrect, possibly based on an alternate 
timeline if the listener had become a full-time musician. 


When exposed to the musically inclined, SCP-624 will generate 
specific songs or improve songs they may have already written. 
When exposed to test subjects with little to no musical experience, 
SCP-624 will generate music based on their favorite music 
influences, regardless if they like the generated music or not. These 
songs tend to be very consistent to the listener, but more songs are 
added based on musical influences. If space runs out when the 
listener is introduced to a new musical influence, the listener's least 
favorite songs are replaced. When shut down, the songs are 
subsequently deleted until SCP-624 is introduced to the listener 
once more. 


Once powered up through headphones, the listener may unplug his 
or her headphones and connect SCP-624 to normal speakers. The 
audio files themselves cannot be transferred, but can be dubbed 
onto a separate recording device. 


Test Log SCP-624-1: 


Subject: Subject D-256. Subject's favorite genre is grindcore music. 
Artist Profile: Death[EXPLETIVE REDACTED] began their rise to 
infamy after their deadly set at Hellfest 03, resulting in several 
injuries and one recorded death. Death[EXPLETIVE REDACTED]’s 
lineup includes two drummers, two bassists, three rhythm guitarists, 
and two lead guitarists. Death[EXPLETIVE REDACTED]’s original 
lead singer, H R , committed suicide by gunshot wound on 
stage during their “[EXPLETIVE REDACTED] Tour 20 ”. 

Music Results: Music is extremely loud and very brutal, lasting 
between five (5) to forty five (45) seconds, resulting in more than a 
thousand (1000+) tracks. A common trend among these tracks are 
atonal noise, screaming, cursing, and sounds from movie clips. The 
lyrics mostly concern violence, rape, murder, [DATA EXPUNGED]. 


Fuller Than Full! 


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Fun-Lover's Funhouse » 


“Ladies and Gentlmen, let’s have another big round of applause for 
Bubble Gum, the tipsy elephant. Try not to feel too sorry for her. We 
can’t help her until she admits she has a problem.” 


While the crowd cheered and applauded as the permanently 
plastered pink pachyderm perambulated out of the Big Top, 
Ringmaster Icky cast her gaze towards the back of the stands where 
she had noticed a rather, well, disquieting individual. 


Thanks to her many years of experience she could tell effortlessly 
whether or not someone was under the effects of their signature 
black cotton candy, and she always made sure to keep an eye on 
them in case they were up to something. Her circus was everything 
to her, and she could spot a threat to her circus from miles away. 


The man she was looking at now had been watching her 
performance with rapt attention, but without any of the joy and 
wonder or disgust and horror that most people did. No, he was 
watching diligently, as if it was his job. She could practically hear 
him writing his report in his head. 


Time to find out who that report was going to. 


Icky signalled to the audio technician to switch the calliope over to 
‘Officer of the Year’. All the Circus folk present took immediate note 
of this, and knew they were about to go off script. 


“Ladies and Gentlemen, | think we have time for one last magic trick 
before we get to our final act. Do you all want to see another magic 
trick?” 


The audience of course applauded their approval. 


“| want to see another magic trick!” said her assistant, who had 
popped out from under her top hat and was now gracefully perched 
on her head. 


“Lolly, get down from there,” she commanded gently. Lolly did a 
handstand, placing the top hat back on the Ringmaster’s head, then 
back-flipped to the ground to laughter and applause. “For our next 
trick, we’re going to need one more volunteer from the audience. 
Only one! Do we have any volunteers?” 


Dozens of eager hands shot up of course, but the man in the back 
remained as passively observant as ever. 


Not that that made one bit of difference to Icky. With a flourish of her 
wand she cast the spotlight upon him. 


“You sir, there in the back. You look like you’d be perfect.” 
“What? |, uh...no. | mean, | couldn’t, I...” 
“Come on down!” 


The audience clapped and cheered their encouragement, and the 
man noticed a rather large Clown had already appeared beside him 
to usher him down. He hastily weighed his options and decided it 
would be best to play along, and allowed himself to be led into the 
ring. 


“Thanks Noodles,” Icky said, taking the man by the arm. “What’s 
your name sir?” 


“Ah...Jeremy?” he said, though it hardly sounded like he was sure. 


“Well Jeremy; actually can | call you Jerry? I’m going to call you 
Jerry. Jerry, the reason | picked you over all these other nice folks is 
that | couldn’t help but notice how serious you looked, and that just 
doesn’t sit right with me. How can someone be so serious after 
seeing a drunken pink elephant blow gravity defying bubbles from 
her trunk?” 


“It certainly is unusual Icky,” Lolly agreed. “Makes me think that 
maybe Jerry didn’t come here to have fun at all.” 


“What do you say to that Jerry? Are you here on business or 
pleasure?” 


“Well | just, you know, | just saw the tents set up and | didn’t have 
any other plans so |...Jesus Christ!” 


Jeremy’s pants had spontaneously combusted, engulfing his entire 
posterior in fire. The audience roared with laughter as he tried to 
beat the flames. “What the hell is this!” 


“Your pants are on fire Jerry, which means you must be a liar-liar- 
pants-on-fire,” Icky explained with a smug smile. 


“Yeah, that’s why | only wear skirts so | can get away with any fibs | 
want,” Lolly boasted. 


Jeremy had started rolling on the ground to try to smother the 
flames. A frantic Clown ran out with a fire extinguisher, but when he 
fired it he was sent rocketing around the tent to the amazement of 
the guests, assuring them it was all part of the show. 


“Somebody help me!” Jeremy screamed. 


“All you have to do is tell the truth,” Icky said, but then lowered her 
voice so that the audience couldn't hear her. “Why did you come 
here? Who do you work for?” 


“| just wanted to see a circus!” he claimed. 


“Fine then, let your itty bitty boy parts burn off. Hope you don’t got 
anyone who’s gonna to miss ‘em.” 


As if by her command, the fire actually started to move towards his 
genitals. 


“Ah! Okay, GOC! I’m with the occult coalition!” 


To his relief the flames instantly died out. His relief was short-lived 
though, as he immediately noticed all the Clowns staring at him with 
a hatred so intense it put the fire to shame. 


“Freak killer!” Lolly hissed under her breath. 


“No! Please, | just do recon for them and | really did just stumble 
upon your circus. They don’t even know I’m here and if you let me 
go | swear they never will,” he claimed. Icky shook her head in 
contempt, and knelt down to speak with him privately. 


“You just do recon? Every freak you ever ratted out to the Geo Sea 
is dead! They’re literal Nazis bent on wiping my kind from the Earth! 
This Circus is a sanctuary for freaks, which means there’s no way in 
hell you’re getting out alive. Play along, and it will at least be quick.” 


Icky rose to her full height and resumed her cheerful persona. 


“Ladies and Gentlemen, | do apologize for Mr. Jerry’s strange and 
lackluster performance, but luckily that won't have any effect upon 
the astounding display of magic you’re about to witness: the Fuller 
than Full Human Caramel Cooker!” 


Lolly and Mr. Noodles hoisted Jeremy up and placed him inside of 
some sort of elastic harness, and shoved a tube and funnel down 
his throat. Lolly leapt to the top of the harness to hold up the funnel 
for all to see. A stagehand entered the ring pulling a large tank filled 
with pristine white sugar. 


With some nonsensical magic words and dramatic gestures, Icky 
drew all the sugar into the air and started spinning it around the ring 
in a vortex. The sugar assumed the shapes of various exotic 
animals, elephants and zebras and tigers and the like, racing around 
the ring on parade as Icky cracked a whip made of sugar to drive 
them on. 


One by one they dove into the funnel to cook inside Jeremy’s 
stomach. His stomach swelled with burning hot molten sugar until he 
was sure it would burst, but it didn’t. As his stomach expanded his 
rips broke off and his spine was horribly deformed, but yet all his soft 
tissues had taken on an unnatural elasticity allowing them to stretch 
to horrific proportions. 


His torso continued to enlarge until it was so massive his legs broke 
underneath him. It was at this point that the harness lifted him up to 
about a dozen feet off the ground. He had swallowed all the sugar 
and yet still he kept growing. The harness spun him around, faster 


and faster as Icky led the audience in some sort of chant, but he 
was in too much pain to care what they were saying. 


Finally his skin had become taught. It could stretch no more, and yet 
whatever was inside him continued to push outwards. He let out one 
final scream, and then popped like a balloon. 


Thousands upon thousands of colourfully wrapped caramels rained 
down upon the audience, most of whom applauded and eagerly 
scooped them up. Only the few who remained unaffected by the 
calliope music looked confused, uncertain as to what they had just 
witnessed. 


While the light-weight candy had flown all across the Big Top, the 
heavier viscera had mostly landed in the front rows. Sitting in this 
splash zone, among others, was their VIP guest Victor Chan. 


With as much reserve as he could muster, Victor took out his 
neckerchief and began wiping off the stray bits of flesh. He was 
certainly glad he had taken Icky’s advice to wear some less 
expensive clothing. 


Nevertheless, he fully intended to submit his dry cleaning bill on his 
next expense report. 


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Fuller's Fantastic Fun-Lover's Funhouse 


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Having been sitting up front, Victor was one of the last to exit the Big 
Top after the afternoon show had concluded. He inspected himself 
thoroughly, making sure there were no pieces of Human viscera still 
clinging anywhere on his person. There were some blood stains of 
course, but if anyone asked he was hoping he could pass those off 
for food stains. 


Casting his gaze now to the sprawling Circus before him, he couldn't 
say it was any more inviting than it had been on his first visit. The 
colours were too bright, the smell of the cotton candy too strong, and 
the never ending music from the calliope was too seductive. He was 
wondering if seeing the Big Top show might be enough to appease 
his hosts, and if he could sneak off without offending them. 


He lurched forward as a small person jumped onto his back and 
covered his eyes with their hands. 


“Guess who?” they asked gleefully. 


“Hello Lolly,” Victor replied, recognizing the young Clown’s 
effervescent voice immediately. 


“No fair, you peeked,” she accused playfully, hopping back to the 
ground. “I’m so glad you came back! What'd you think of the show? 
Was | amazing?” 


“| can honestly say I’ve never seen a magician pull her assistant out 
of a hat before.” 


“It’s even harder than it looks. That hat stinks of bunny poop.” 


“If | had to offer any criticism though, the, ah...lynching, before the 


final act was a bit much. Don’t get me wrong, | don’t care for the 
GOC either and | recognize the threat they pose to your community 
but...” 


“No, no, | see what you’re saying. We may have gotten a bit carried 
away. Even us converted Clowns still have a bit of a mean streak we 
have to keep in check. Rough sex or a round at the Hack-A-Mole 
table is usually enough for Icky and me to get our aggression out, 
but we still lose our tempers every now and then. 

“Oh! Icky wants to know how the plans for the caper’s going. She’s 
really looking forward to getting Virtuoso back.” 


“That’s progressing as expected. | have the site layout with me so 
you can pick your entrance point. The containment cell is 
soundproofed, so you won't be able to use your Kaleidoscope to get 
in there since it needs your calliopes to work, but you shouldn't have 
a problem getting into an adjacent room. The wing is low security so 
there are no guards inside and our operative is working on ensuring 
he’ll be able to get the security systems down. Once he's got a date 
and time we'll let you know. 

"One detail of our original agreement has changed, however; Mr. 
Marshall has actually personally requested a slight adjustment to 
your payment.” 


“What do you mean?” 


“It’s just that Mr. Marshall thought that your anomalous means of 
transport would actually be of more value to us than anything you 
could steal from the Foundation. More specifically, have you ever 
been to an interdimensional marketplace known as the Utterly 
Bazaar?” 


“Yeah, tons of times.” 


“Mr. Marshall would like you to escort me there so that | can do an 
assessment and also possibly acquire any products that | think we’d 
be able to move. Does that work for you?” 


“Oh sure! We go there all the time anyway. It'd be no problem to 
have you tagging along.” 


“Perfect. We shouldn’t have any problems then. If, ah, you need to 
get back to work | don’t want to keep you.”