at home with dear old Mom. A real gem of a woman, my 
mother. She lived an enchanted life, sitting upon her 
mommy throne and drinking her special mommy water 
until her eyes rolled back in her head. She never hit me 
or anything, but she hated me. God, she hated me. And 
the feeling was mutual. Sometimes | would bring home a 
mouthful of woodland creatures just 'cause it drove her 
nuts. Heh. I'd walk up to her all innocent-like, smile one 
of those adorable, eight-year-old smiles... and then spit 
up a couple dozen rats onto her lap. 


Dr. O'Sullivan: So she was aware of your anomalous 
properties? 


SCP-2094: What, you mean this? (SCP-2094 graps his 
lower lip, extends it to arm length, and lets it snap back 
into place.) Yeah, she noticed. There's a good reason | 
wasn't breastfed. And because | was such an odd little 
thing, she kept me holed up inside the house pretty 
much all the time. Guess she was worried I'd eat 
somebody. Not once did it ever occur to me to bust out 
and hit the world on my own, though. Back in the day | 
was a pretty timid kid, b'lieve it or not. But then one 
night— actually, hold on. Let me get back to that ina 
second. Have you ever seen Peter Pan? The animated 
one? 


Dr. O'Sullivan: | have. 


SCP-2094: Okay, good. Where was |? Oh yeah. But 
then one night, when my Mom was asleep, he came into 
my room. Showed up at my window, silhouetted against 
the stars, just like Peter Pan. He told me that freaks 
didn't belong cooped up in boxes their whole lives. He 
told me they belonged out in the world, sharing their 
gifts, making people laugh and scream and puke. He told 
me of a place where I'd be loved by hundreds, where I'd 
be a star, where I'd have a real family. So | took his 
hand. Mummy dearest was too deep in the drink to even 
notice us waltzing out the front door. And that, dear 
Sully, is how | wound up running away to join the circus. 


Best decision of my life. 


Dr. O'Sullivan: Being visited by a stranger in the middle 
of the night didn't alarm you as a child? 


SCP-2094: Well, his face was upside-down, so | 
suppose | should have been a little soooked, but at the 
time | was just excited to meet someone who was even 
weirder than | was. 


Dr. O'Sullivan: And you weren't treated badly at the 
circus? 


SCP-2094: I'll tell ya right now, the circus life ain't for 
everyone, but hey, Manny and the gang did the best they 
could. They put bread in our mouths and pillows under 
our heads. | got a whooping now and again, but what kid 
doesn't? It's all part of growing up. Kept me in line and 
manned me up quickly. The folks at the circus loved me 
like | was one of their own. They never made me feel like 
being a freak was anything to be hidden or ashamed of. 
When you're part of a circus family, you look out for one 
another. You don't just turn around and sell your family 
out to the Essie P. Foundation! 


Dr. O'Sullivan: When the recovery team discovered you, 
you were locked in a trunk. You were left for us to find. 
Can you tell me why that is? 


SCP-2094: (Silence) 


Dr. O'Sullivan: Were there any problems between you 
and your family? 


SCP-2094: Hah! Wouldn't you like to know? Sorry, Sully, 
but | think I've done enough talking. You ain't gettin’ 
nothin’ else out of me. Not now, not never. 


Dr. O'Sullivan: That's fine. Thank you for your time, 
SCP-2094. 


SCP-2094: Hey, don't mention it! Anything for my 


number one fan. 
<End log> 

Selected Interview #2: 
Interviewer: Dr. O'Sullivan 
Interviewee: SCP-2094 


Notes: Interview conducted eight months after 
SCP-2094 entered containment. 


<Begin log> 
SCP-2094 is led into interview chamber. 


SCP-2094: Bless me blarney stones! It's ol' Doc Sullivan 
again! How've you been, doc? Because I've been great! 


Dr. O'Sullivan: Is that a fact? 


SCP-2094: Of course not, ya dingus! This place is a total 
shithole! What kinda hotel are you lot running, anyhow? | 
knew | shoulda booked the Hilton. 


Dr. O'Sullivan: I'm sorry to hear that. Life in Bio Site-59 
might take some getting used to. Is there anything 
particular you're having trouble adjusting to? 


SCP-2094: Well, since you asked, the food tastes like 
elephant guano, the bed's as hard as a rock, and the 
little red light on the camera keeps me up at night. And 
would it really kill you guys to stock the bathrooms with 
two-ply? Seriously, I've slept in prisons that were more 
hospitable than this place. 


Dr. O'Sullivan: You know, SCP-2094, if you can provide 
me with some additional information on the circus, | 
could put in a formal request for improved— 


SCP-2094: Oh, not that again! I'm not gonna dish, you 


hear me? 


Dr. O'Sullivan: You don't have to tell us anything that 
might compromise the safety of your family. We're not 
after sensitive information, necessarily. Just tell me 
about the circus. Acts you've performed, friends you've 
made. Anything will work. 


SCP-2094: Hrm. Anything, huh? 
Dr. O'Sullivan: Within reason, yes. 


SCP-2094: And you'll give me junk if | just spin some 
simple yarns for you? 


Dr. O'Sullivan: That could be arranged, yes. 
SCP-2094: Softer bed? Better food? DVDs? 

Dr. O'Sullivan: Those sound like reasonable requests. 
SCP-2094: Adult magazines, even? 

Dr. O'Sullivan: | ... I'll see what | can do. 

SCP-2094 shrugs. 


SCP-2094: You know what? Sure. Why the hell not? I've 
been itching to talk to somebody anyway. Where should | 
start? 


Dr. O'Sullivan: | think— 


SCP-2094: (/nterrupting) Never mind, | know where. 
Okay, so picture this: lush, green grass. Wide open 
space. Blues skies above. Imagine the most perfect day 
possible— anomalously perfect, you might say. All of our 
days are like that. Never a raincloud in sight. Now 
imagine candy-striped tents, and musicians in brightly 
colored outfits, and balloon animals that prance through 
the air above you, and clowns that actually succeed at 
being funny. Picture, if you will, the most beautiful 


goddamn circus you've ever dreamt of, and then forget 
about it, because it's nothing compared to Herman 
Fuller's. 


Of course, it's not always what you'd call "crowd ready". 
Things can get a bit, uh, chaotic at times. All right, full 
disclosure: it's a madhouse more often than not, but by 
golly, when the normies start rolling in, there's not a hair 
out of place. You can thank our Ringmaster for that. 
She's phenomenal, in terms of leadership skill as well as 
booty. Hello, nurse! She wasn't around when | got first 
arrived, though. The overall look and feel of the circus 
hasn't really changed since the turn of the century; the 
people, however, change quite a bit, as they are wont to 
do. 


Take me, for example. | think | mentioned before that | 
wasn't always the charming portrait of confidence | am 
today. In the early days | was a tender-footed little lad, 
recently departed from home, overwhelmed by the 
strange and wonderful world he'd been swept up into. | 
mostly just stood around staring in dumbstruck awe at 
everything around me. Never really talked or nothin’. | 
was a pretty wide-eyed kid, and an adorable one, from 
what | hear, so obviously they gave me a job as a human 
clown car. | mean, really, what else could they do but 
send me on stage with a few dozen clowns waiting to 
lurch out of my gut? It wasn't the most glamorous job, but 
| did get some kicks out of it. Heh. You should have seen 
the looks on the audience's faces when that marching 
band started parading out from my lips. Priceless. 


Let's see. After that, | learned some juggling from a guy 
named Scythe. Total douchebooger, but pretty handy 
with a pair of swords. | never got to handle them, of 
course. Just balls and clubs and all that. Scythe was 
another story entirely. | mean, you could shove a shiv 
into every square inch of that guy's body and he wouldn't 
bat an eye. He was a real baby when it came to being 
set on fire, though, and ended up going up in smoke in 


the middle of a show. Total spoil sport, dying like that. 
They held a service for him, but | was busy that day. 


After a while | got more comfortable around the other 
folks. Started to assert myself. The clown shtick had to 
end. | mean, it was fun and all, but it didn't really mesh 
with my newfound sense of pride. So | did the juggling 
thing for a while, tossing random junk around and then 
swallowing it at the end. Pretty low-scale stuff, 
comparatively speaking, and | knew I'd end up getting 
relegated to the Den of Freaks if | didn't up my game. 
Don't get me wrong: there's a ton of great folks in the 
Den and it's not a bad place, but it's not the big time, you 
know? 


So when | got to be a horny teenager, | thought, "why not 
devour a woman whole?" At first, everyone thought it'd 
just be a step down from the clown thing, but then | came 
up with the idea to put a plant in the audience, call them 
up into the ring, and then swallow them in one gulp. It 
was all right, | guess, and nicely provocative, but the act 
didn't really take off until | got Theodore in on it. In 
addition to being able to turn himself inside-out, Theo 
also had a knack for the gymnastic stuff, and we 
managed to make a high diving act out of it. He'd leap off 
a diving board, flip his innards outwards, and plop right 
into me. It was a hit, of course. Theo and | got a lot of 
attention after that, especially once we started dating. 
Turned out that | found guys just as much fun to swallow 
as gals. 


The act got stale after a while, though. And then when | 
broke it off with Theo, that put the final nail in its coffin. 
He went back to the Den, and | was gonna be following 
pretty quick if | didn't think of something new to do. | 
thought and | thought and brainstormed up a hurricane, 
but nothing would come to me. | needed a big ticket idea, 
something that wouldn't just be a hit but would earn me 
legendary status. And then one day when | was dumping 
an especially long string of ideas on Quincy, he told me 


he'd barf a swarm of bees on my face if | didn't shut my 
motormouth. And then it hit me: Motormouth. 


I'd gotten pretty talkative at that point, so it was an 
appropriate enough title to take on, but the act that came 
with it was a stroke of genius, if | do say so myself. 
Picture this: two lovely assistants on either side of me. 
They pull my mouth open good and wide. Then, all of a 
sudden, a Chrysler comes barreling into the Big Top, hits 
a ramp, and sails down my throat. Pretty fantastic, huh? 
... You don't look impressed. Imagination's atrophied, 
eh? Well, just take my word for it when | say it was pretty 
damn nifty. Great spectacle value, and legitimately 
dangerous. | may be magic, but | doubt that even I'd 
survive a Porsche to the face if it were to miss. 


| got the legend status | was looking for, of course. 
Became one of the top-billed acts nearly overnight. 
Things were going swimmingly for me. And then | ended 
up here. Way to go for that, ruining my life and all. At 
least I'll be remembered as a star. That's nice. This still 
sucks, though, | gotta say. Now how much stuff did that 
earn me? 


<End log> 


Incident Log #1: On 12/07/06, SCP-2094 was found in a state of 
extreme distress, to the point of self-harm. Bio Site-59 caretakers 
were able to successfully restrain and sedate SCP-2094. 


The following is a transcript of statements made by SCP-2094 prior 
to the incident. 


<Begin log> 
SCP-2094 abruptly awakens from sleep. 
SCP-2094: What are you— no! No! Stop! 


SCP-2094 clutches the sides of its head and makes 
pained vocalizations. 


SCP-234: Extradimensional Fish 


Item #: SCP-234 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-234 is studied at 
Containment Area 06-234, which encompasses the 300 meter 
radius Red Zone of SCP-234. The main laboratory building within 
the Red Zone is built as an "open-air" structure, with no doors or 
closed windows. No closed containers or spaces of any kind are 
allowed within the Red Zone of SCP-234. Any space which 
inadvertently becomes closed within the Red Zone is to be declared 
a Class II dimensional/implosion hazard and must be remotely 
destroyed on-site following mandatory evacuation of the laboratory 
area. Personnel trapped within a closed space are to be considered 
lost. 


Experimentation with SCP-234 may only be performed with express, 
prior permission from at least two (2) Level 4 Personnel. 
Experimentation which introduces closed spaces into the Red Zone 
of SCP-234 may not exceed 1 Lin volume, and must be treated as a 
Class III dimensional/implosion hazard. 


Description: SCP-234 is a species of organism of presumed 
extradimensional origin resembling fish measuring approximately 
25 mm in length. SCP-234 does not appear to have any eyes or 
light-sensitive organs, but navigates via a highly evolved sense of 
echolocation. It maintains buoyancy via a gas-filled organ similar to 
a swim bladder which allows it to float in air, and exhibits behavior 
consistent with an omnivorous scavenger organism, though to date 
it has not been observed consuming any terrestrial organic matter. 


SCP-234 appears to only be able to exist within a closed, air-filled 
space, and will spontaneously come into existence whenever such a 
closed space exists or is brought within the Red Zone, an area of 
approximately 300 meter radius in a remote area in the mountains 


SCP-2094: Stop it! Don't! Please! | wasn't going to— 
Stop! 


SCP-2094 leaps from its bed and begins knocking its 
head violently against the wall. 


SCP-2094: Don't- take— anything— 


SCP-2094 loses balance and falls to the floor. It 
screams. 


SCP-2094: It's all | have, now, Manny! It's all | have! 
<End log> 


When SCP-2094 was taken out of its sedated state, it displayed 
symptoms of severe retrograde amnesia in episodic memory, 
specifically in memories related to its experiences in Gol-233. Dr. 
O'Sullivan was issued an official reprimand for not using more 
immediate information extraction techniques before the incident took 
place, and resigned from his post as lead researcher for SCP-2094 
on 01/15/07. 


SCP-2094 entered a severely depressed psychological state 
following this incident. Dr. Anniston began psychotropic treatment of 
SCP-2094's condition on 02/03/07. 


Dr. Anniston's Report #1: The following is a message sent from 
Dr. Anniston to Site Director Bluthe on 02/13/07. 


Hello, 


| am writing to you today to inform you that SCP-2094 
has undergone an extreme change in personality since | 
was first assigned to it early last year. Before, it was 
lively, energetic, and highly talkative, quick to engage in 
banter and turn of phrase. Speaking freely, it was one of 
the few patients | enjoyed speaking with, occasional lewd 
remarks notwithstanding. 


However, since the December incident, SCP-2094 has 
grown increasingly withdrawn. In addition to its 


depression, it has developed severe anxiety, and 
appears to be in a constant state of terror at its 
surroundings. Its interpersonal skills have rapidly 
degenerated, to the point of being visibly nervous around 
interviewers, even those permitted to address it by its 
given name for bonding purposes. SCP-2094 has also 
shown a marked decrease in its interest in physical 
activity, including juggling, which was a pastime in which 
it regularly engaged in with any object it could get its 
hands on.