*The trailer opens up in a burning building. Camera 
slowly zooms up to a folder marked “SCP”. A 
conversation between Dr. Gears (Ben Stien) and Agent 
O-5 (Tommy Wiseau) goes on in the background, with 
Gears talking in monotone and Agent O-5 having a 
ridiculously strong accent.* 


DR. GEARS: How bad is it? 
AGENT O-5: Oh... it is very bad. 


*Show men in ski masks carrying a wooden coffin down 
the street in broad daylight.* 


AGENT O-5: A bunch of terrorists ‘ave stolen *obvious 
jump in dialogue* zee coffin, of a “another obvious jump 
vampire overlord. 


* 


*Show footage of people in robes praying to the 
unconscious body of SCP-76-2 (AKA Able), played by 
Robert Pattinson.* 


AGENT O-5: If they are not stopped, the world... no, the 
universe, could be in danger. 


“Fade to black.* 
DR. GEARS: I'll get my best team on it. 


*Cut to three people marching down a sparsely- 
decorated corridor, wearing sunglasses and trenchcoats. 
From left to right: Yoric (also played by Tommy Wiseau), 


Dr. Clef (played by Samuel L. Jackson), and Dr. Bright 
(played by Bobo the monkey, voiced by Richard 
Simmons). Generic rock music loops in the background.* 


NARRATOR: From the creative direction of Uwe Boll... 


*Cut to scene of people with guns wearing armor that “D- 
Class” being mowed down by “Marshall Carter" (played 
by Keven Spacey) using a machine gun labeled “Dark. 
LTD” 


M. CARTER: THIS. IS. SPARRRRTAAAAAAAAAAAAA! 


“Dr Aeish (played by some no-talent spanish guy) jumps 
in from out of nowhere wearing a puffy suit and holding a 
sword.* 


Dr. ALEPH ASASH AEGEAL AEISH: My name is Dr. 
Asphalt. You killed my father. Prepare to die. 


NARRATOR: ...and one of the two directors responsible 
for “Epic Movie”... 


*Cut to scene of Dr. Bright and Dr. Gears in a car, 
driving.* 


DR. GEARS (still in monotone): Can’t you go any faster, 
damn it? 


DR. BRIGHT: *Thumps the wheel, screeching. Dr. 
Bright’s voice is very badly dubbed in.* WHEEE! NO 
HANDS! *Farts* 


NARRATOR: ...Comes this year’s blockbuster romantic 
comedy sci-fi action thriller, that will knock- 


*Cut to scene of Yoric loading a shotgun...* 
NARRATOR: -You- 


*...Clef strumming the Ukulele. ..* 


Note: Research Assistant Byantara is in a comatose state, and 
displays no change in behaviour. Further observation is required. 


Note: After 47 days on life support, Byantara appeared to mouth 
something and his eyes ceased movement. He died of cardiac 
arrest shortly afterwards. 


| think he said something like "too scared to move". 
—Research Assistant Pattayong 


Footnotes 

1. These effects are highly similar to other anomalies which prey on 
victims during REM cycles, or cause paralysis during sleep, such 
asSCP-966,SCP-3060andSCP-122. 


« SCP-931 | SCP-932 | SCP-933 » 


NARRATOR: -Senseless! 


*...and Bright just standing there, while an obviously fake 
pair of monkey hands rises in front of him, and cracks 
their knuckles.* 


*Cut to scene where Dr. Edison (played by Brad Pitt) is 
walking away from an exploding SCP-682.* 


DR. EDISON (voiceover): It’s showtime... 


“Fade to black, and then fade into the words “SCP” in 
silver letters, with a large number of obligatory movie 
credits at the bottom of the screen. Text below the logo 
says “Thanksgiving Day”™* 


“Well, | suppose that’s one way to handle an information leak...” O5- 
turned away from the screen. “How on earth did you pull this off?” 


“Eh, no big deal.” Dr. Edison smugly replied, “I just wrote up a script, 
sent a crack team of mercenaries to track down and kidnap Uwe 
Boll and Friedberg, told them who was going to be in it, and gave 
them an hour each with SCP-721. Now everyone thinks that the 
leaked documents are part of some sort of Alternate Reality Game 
for a horrible Uwe Boll movie. With any luck, Marshall, Carter and 
Dark will also be more hesitant about doing business, what with their 
name being associated with that wisecracking Lex Luthor ripoff.” 


“May | remind you that bringing civilians here was a serious breach 
in security...” 


“Please, that guy has less credibility than a neo-nazi at a bar- 
mitzvah. If ‘Zhee best fucking genius in zee business’ ever said 
anything, he’d lose whatever shred of credibility he still has.” 


O5- gave Dr. Edison an unamused look. 


“...Yeah yeah, | gave them both A-Class Amnesics.” Dr. Edison 
nervously tugged at his collar. “Um, | mean, do you think I’m an idiot 
or something?” 


“But what about the actors? How did you-” 


“| had a talk with our legal department to help me with the cover 
story. They forged some paperwork saying that they had signed 
over their ‘Digital Likenesses’ to Boll at some point, and got “Popular 
Science” to do an article about the technology the movie was 
supposedly made with. Plus, | sent everyone large checks to get 
them to stay quiet about it. You know how celebrities are. And even 
if they do say something, Boll and Friedberg would be the ones to 
blame, not us.” 


“| see.” The O5 looked unpulsed. “I also understand you’ve taken 
some... ‘liberties’ with the source material.” 


“That was understandable; If | stuck too close to the truth our entire 
operation would be compromised.” 


“Actually, | was more concerned about the portrayal of yourself and 
your fellow co-workers. We've received a number of complaints... 
Dr. Rights, for instance, is upset that you’ve made her a into one- 
dimensional love interest, Dr. Bright was upset that you’ve made him 
out to be a complete idiot that can’t fend for himself that constantly 
makes fart jokes, Yoric insists that he looks nothing like Tommy 
Wiseau, and Delivery Agent Roadrunner is accusing you of slander. 
Which is understandable, as his only scene involves him yelling 
obscenities at the elderly, punting a baby into a wood chipper, 
insulting all major religious and world leaders by name, selling out 
the Foundation to the Chaos Insurgency for pocket change, and 
then being gruesomely dismembered at the hands of SCP-682.” 


Dr. Edison chuckled. “Oh yeah, | remember that scene. God, that 
was fun to write...” 


“Anyway... Dr. lceberg has put out a bounty on your life, Dr. Aeish 
says you pronounced his name wrong on at least seven dozen 
occasions, Dr. Gerald hates how you’ve made his poor driving skills 
into a running gag, Able would like to have a very violent word with 
you about your casting choices, Dr. Gears thinks that your 
characterization of himself was spot on but is repulsed by everything 
else in the movie, and Dr. Clef thinks you portrayed him as a sexist, 
chain-smoking alcoholic bigot with a hair-trigger temper.” 


“So? I'd say that’s a pretty accurate description.” 


“The problem is that he insists you owe him royalties.” The O-5 
nonchalantly shuffled a large stack of papers. “Oh, and absolutely 
everyone hates the fact that you cast Brad Pitt as yourself, and 
made him the most blatant Mary-Sue possible.” 


Dr. Edison shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s show business for ya.” 


The O-5 sighed. “Personally, | ought to terminate you for gross 
disrespect and neglect of the rules. However, since you did defuse a 
potentially catastrophic situation with minimal casualties, |’m willing 
to let your keep your current position, on the condition that you 
transfer to Keter Duty in our Antarctic base at Site- until people 
stop demanding your head on a stick.” 


“Don’t | have some sort of choice?” 
“Certainly. You could always [DATA EXPUNGED]” 
“..Right. Antarctica it is, then.” 


**END LOG** 


SCP Fronts 


The Foundation uses the presence of other businesses and 
organizations as frontages to mask the existence of the SCP 
Foundation. These may be anything from local flower shops to 
international conglomerates. Websites to a few of these facades are 
as follows: 


So Clean, You'd Think You Were In Heaven! 

Your premiere source for human remains based soap and lye 
products! Experience a cleanliness like no other and indulge in the 
renewing lather that will have you believing in the resurrection of 
your aging, lifeless cells. 


We are a society of skeptics who seek to disprove the foolish beliefs 
of conspiracy theorists and paranormal enthusiasts. 


A gated community for the discerning family. 

South Cheyenne Point is a privately-owned civic development 
aiming at creating an utopic living environment for our denizens. 
Admissions are only accepted on the basis of availability, and a 
strict set of requirements must be adhered to before the process 
may go forward. Currently there are no openings in our 
development. 


SCP-REDD 


In a dark room a bank of monitor screens illuminated a pale face. 
The rusted brown glow of the video feeds gave Roger Little more 
color than the sun had cared to give him in the past few months. 
Half a kilometer north and two hundred meters down, an automated 
surveillance drone slowly made its way through a series of corroded 
metal hallways. 


It was oddly silent, beyond the whine of computers and the whir of 
fans. Roger fiddled with his volume before checking the system 
audio. Nothing but the noises of the drone itself. No groaning, no 
creaking, no screaming. Just the soft click clack of the drone. 


Roger checked the timing. The drone should have reached it by 
now. He squinted into the glare and overrode the drone. Nothing but 
flakes of rusted metal scattered across a floor of rusted metal, fallen 
from the walls and ceiling of rusted metal. 


After several minutes of searching, Roger rubbed his temples. He 
drummed his fingers on his little metal desk and took a few deep 
breaths. He reached over and picked up the bulky plastic phone 
sitting on the edge of his work space. He dialed the number and only 
had to wait a few seconds before it was answered. 


"Sir? It's Roger Little, from Surveillance. We may have a problem." 


In the cold reaches of space, a satellite continued to do what it had 
done for over a decade. It hung in the weaker clutches of the Earth's 
gravity and watched a man wander about. 


The man it was watching, however, was doing something a ways 
away from his status quo. He was running. Through the sweltering 
heat of the American Southwest in the middle of its summer, over 
the scorched earth, under a blazing sun, Mister Lost ran. 


In hot pursuit was a man with fiery red hair. His black jacket left 
unbuttoned, it snapped behind him like shadows cast by a fire, the 
red trimming a much duller affair than his hair. He was gaining on 
Lost, who continued to make the mistake of looking over his 
shoulder. Each glance seemed to give the red-haired man more 
speed. 


The eventual collision left Lost sprawled on the ground for a moment 
before he tried crawling away. The second man was up in a near 
instant. He brushed himself off and waited a moment before 
continuing his pursuit. He walked just behind Lost for a time, until he 
tried to get up. The pursuer kicked his target back onto the ground. 
This repeated itself for some time, until the red-haired main simply 
grabbed the man in the green jacket and dragged him in the 
opposite direction. 


They eventually came upon a third man, who had been sitting ona 
rock outcropping. Blood and rust clung to every inch of his body. 
With what seemed to be considerable effort, the man stood. He took 
two steps before falling. 


The red man grabbed the rusted man by the shirt and hauled him up 
onto his shoulder in a way that was quick but not unkind. All the 
while Mister Lost remained gripped in his opposite hand. After what 
looked like a satisfied sigh, the red man walked east. 


An 05 rolled an unlit cigar back and forth over the sleek top of his 
desk. In front of him, the video feed on his monitor ended. Beyond 
that, his secretary stood at attention. 


The secretary took a brief glance at his clipboard. "As you can see, 
sir, the unknown humanoid has captured both 2933 and 920. 
Further surveillance from multiple sources show it is now heading for 
one of our facilities." 


The Overseer idly flicked the cigar, sending it spinning. "Given the 
context, I'm guessing it can be safely assumed who the entity is?" 


"It's attacked two of the three Little Mister anomalies we don't have 
properly contained and now seems to be heading for the Site where 


we contain the other seventeen. Combined with its general 
appearance, yes. The list's designation number fourteen, Mr. Redd." 


"Lock the Site down. We don't know what Redd is capable of. 
Considering it was able to escape 2933-1 and has been able to 
transport 920 for over a hundred miles without stopping, it's not 
something we want to discover first hand in the midst of an active 
facility.” 


The secretary nodded and departed for his own desk. Left alone, the 
Overseer plucked the cigar up and spun it between his fingers. He 
replayed the submitted videos and quietly thought to himself. 


Eventually his secretary returned, and after a brief wait hustled back 
out with a freshly stamped order. Alone again, O5-4 slid the silver 
lighter off his desk and thumbed it several times before it sparked. 


A group of people sat in a room full of monitors. Not quite like the 
one previously described, which was merely a one man obligation 
simply for the principle of the thing. As the door so boldly claimed, 
reading Site- 1 Security, this was a security station for a Foundation 
site, full of attentive individuals, with live feeds covering nearly every 
hallway and the ability to stream feeds from various containment 
cells if forwarded from the cell's own containment team. 


One attentive individual sat up in her chair, more so than her already 
perfect posture had allowed. She began squinting at one of the 
monitors showing a feed of a camera deep within the facility, well 
away from any of the entrances. 


Within the frame was a trio of men. One was dressed in a black and 
red jacket, one in a coat of metal, and one in a green hoodie. The 
first was carrying the second and dragging the third, the former of 
which was groaning and screeching like rusted clockwork and the 
latter was attempting to crawl away despite appearing to be 
unconscious. 


She wondered how they arrived in the site despite it being locked 
down, when no one else had made any sort of comment. The 
worker flagged down her superior as quick as she could and 


explained what she had seen. But when she pointed to the group of 
monitors of the area the men had just been spotted in, they were 
nowhere to be seen. Now one of her coworkers, who had been 
monitoring an entirely different Wing, was reporting about them. 


By the time attention arrived on the monitor in question the men 
were nowhere to be seen, and further examination showed they had 
disappeared from surveillance entirely. 


05-4 snubbed out his cheap cigar in one hand and thumbed one of 
the buttons on his monitor with the other. A round woman with sharp 
eyes snapped into view. 


After a smokey exhale the O5 sat up and meshed his fingers 
together, if only for himself. His outgoing calls only showed a generic 
silhouette. "Dziekan. | hope all is well." 


The Site Director fidgeted. To her credit, it was only slightly. "Not as 
such, sir. Redd has somehow breached the site with both Lost and 
Scary. More than that, he broadcasted a video message from 
somewhere in the facility. And he's made demands." 


The weight of the silence from her superior stayed Dziekan. After 
several seconds O5-4 took a slow breath and said, "Somewhere in 
the facility?" 


"Well. Sir. | don't recognize the area. It appeared to be a medical 
bay, but it definitely isn't any I'm aware of. With him was a little girl 
with a swollen stomach. He called her Katherine but we don't have 
any subjects on file with that name."