Jude and Armand sit across from each other in a booth around 
midday. The former searches for a direction to look that makes the 
building look less claustrophobic and uncomfortably proportioned, 
while the latter digs into a Grand Slamwich and taps his foot audibly. 


"Basssically." Armand washes the taste of grease and maple spice 
down with some orange juice. "Its seememed like a good iiadea, if 
we needeed non-cointadennnces." He chows down again as Jude 
picks languidly at his blueberry pancakes. 


Just as Jude opens his mouth to say something, Armand stands up. 
"lii gotta smoke, sorry. Cany youh handle the billll?" Without waiting 
for an answer, he turns around and heads out the front door. Jude 
sighs, nodding to nobody in particular and tossing a few $5's from 
his pocket onto the table. 


The waitress appears not long after, and is directed by a gesture to 
said bills. She nods knowingly, then takes them without a word. 
Jude closes his eyes as she walks away, and is rewarded with the 
first bit of relief he's felt since he entered. Within minutes, he's 
broken out of his reverie by an irritated throat-clearing. He opens his 
eyes with a start, looking at the source. A large man with a shaved 
head and dark sunglasses blocks his exit, while the waitress stands 
next to him. Jude sighs. "What. What'd | do." 


"Don't play dumb." The waitress snaps, tossing his payment on the 
table. "You didn't think | would notice identical bills? You sh-" 


The man interjects, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Karen, relax. 
He could've gotten them from someone else without knowing." 
Turning to Jude, "Now, you did just try to spend counterfeit bills, so 
I'll need you to come with me to the station." He takes out his wallet 


and flashes a badge at Jude. 


"Identical bills. You're shitting me." Jude picks up the three bills. 
They do, indeed, have identical serial numbers. They also have the 
same lopped-off corner, and the same ink stain on Abe's forehead. 
Of course | would spend cloned fives at the one restaurant in the 
country that checks serial numbers. And of course there's a cop. 
"Well, uh, | don't know how that happened, and | really don't have 
the time for coming into the station, so could | just..." He tries to exit 
the booth, but the officer grabs his wrist. 


"Don't make this harder on yourself, son. You're a terrible liar." The 
other customers were watching at this point. The hand is tight, and 
Jude's attempts to pull loose are futile. 


Jude takes a deep breath; when that fails to do much of anything, he 
closes his eyes and takes a few more. "I said. | don't. Have. Time. 
For this!" 


He yanks his hand away, distancing himself from the cop to the tune 
of about a hundred yards. In fact, everything else in the diner is a 
football field away from him, and from each other. The confusion 
and panic of the other patrons echoes in the now-cavernous 
Denny's, though the sparse lighting fails to illuminate their positions. 


Jude takes a few breaths to calm himself, smiling a little as he looks 
around. The front doors stand out as a point of light about a mile 
away. But distance is just a suggestion, isn't it? He starts off towards 
the exit, gliding forward as space stretches behind him and 
squeezes tight in front of him. 


Armand's pack of cigarettes is out before he reaches the front door, 
and by the time he surveys the parking lot, one is already lit in his 
mouth. It almost falls out when he sees a man about his age adjust 
his thick-rimmed glasses, then take another picture of Armand's car. 


After taking eleven seconds to assess the situation, he comes up 
with two viable reactions: approach the man, ask him what's going 
on, and go from there; or use magic to hurl his phone into the 
pavement at terminal velocity, destroying the evidence. The first 


seems less likely to make a scene, so he takes a drag on his 
cigarette and walks over. 


"Ummm, excuuuse me. Whya are you tttaking pictures of my tr..." 
Armand speaks slowly, attempting to sound casual and make his 
speech as clear as possible. This is a success, up until the man 
turns around and oooh shihit he'sh hot. 


"Oh, sorry there." He smiles a bit. "| was just documenting your uh, 
new Toro here." He gestures to the car. "Must be pretty fun to drive 
out here on the Oregon plains." 


"Dooocumemementing? Whyw woulllld youdodo thaat?" Armand 
breaks eye contact, instead directing his attention at the Denny's he 
just left. Anticipating the man's next question, "lalalways taaaalk 
likethis." 


The man closes his mouth, his next question answered; then, he 
opens it again. "Um, it's just that the Toro's only available in Brazil, 
and you might get off-market cars in places like Michigan, but this 
has gotta be the only Toro west of the Mississippi. | mean, if Fiat's 
thinking of releasing these in America, that's pretty big news, right? 
How'd you get one? Uh, my name's Andy. Sorry. Should've led with 
that." He runs a hand through his hair. 


Armand rubs his nose bridge. Transmuting the truck into a different 
model had been mandatory to ditch the Foundation, but of all the 
Italian trucks it could have become, why something that would 
immediately attract att... Armand blinks, then turns back to Andy. 
"Fififirrrst, pleeease donon't takkke pictutures. Secooond, whereaa 
are youheading?" 


Andy blinks at the question, nonplussed. "I'm, uh, visiting my sister 
in Idaho... why? | mean uh, yeah, sure, sorry for taking pictures, | 
just thought I'd be done before you came out. Which isn't really an 
excuse, but—" 


Armand cuts him off. "Howww doyoou finind her? Yyyyou jujust! look 
forr cowwinkadentesss, right?" He raises an eyebrow as he puffs on 
his cigarette. Neither notices as the Denny's’ windows go dark. 


Andy is taken aback for a moment before grinning. "Oh hey, you're 
going to see Miranda too! That's great! You must be friends, it's not 
like you can really find her unless she wants you to. How do you 
know her?" 


"Weeee're goioing to livive withherf for awhile. Weuh, uh, ran innnto 
somet trtrouble lassast night. Am mutuuual frienenend referrred us." 
Armand coughs a bit, wishing he had brushed his teeth that 
morning. 


"Ohhh, oh, | see. So you guys are, like, on the run, then?" 


Armand is about to answer when Jude walks out of the Denny's at 
about twenty miles per hour. He stumbles, then collides with a 
parked minivan and falls over. 


Preliminary containment report for SCP-5218, 
"Under Pressure" 


Item #: SCP-5218 
Object Class: Pending 


Containment Status: The original video containing 
SCP-5218 has been removed, and the associated 
YouTube account has been terminated. Web crawlers 
are being updated to identify and remove videos 
containing SCP-5218. Identification of the security 
vulnerabilities exploited to propagate SCP-5218 is 
underway. Identification and assessment of SCP-5218's 
viewers is underway. 


Standard containment for video cognitohazards will most 
likely suffice for future containment. 


Effectiveness of amnestics at treating SCP-5218's 
effects has not been established. 


Object Description: SCP-5218 is a 1min47s video 
entitled "Under Pressure, Killer Meme's Fourth bomb". 


Source material includes Bee Movie, the 2016 animated 
adaptation of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is 
Unbreakable, the official music video for the song "Under 
Pressure" by Queen, and several presumably computer- 
generated sequences. 


Anomaly types: Memetic, cognitohazardous 
Known effects: 


* Non-disclosure: Individuals who view SCP-5218 in 
its entirety will become incapable of disclosing 
information regarding Pol (known aliases: "Jude 
Kriyot", " ", “bluntfiend") or Pol (Known 
aliases: "Armand Delassixe", "harmpit"), both 
known associates of Gamers Against Weed. When 
they attempt to do so, they will instead recite the 
entirety of the Wikipedia article "JoJo's Bizarre 
Adventure" as it existed on 2016-11-16. This is 
performed in whatever medium they had originally 
intended to disclose the information. 

Delusions: (Provisional) The aforementioned 
subjects will believe that SCP-5218's non- 
disclosure effect is due to the workings of an entity 
known as "Under Pressure, Killer Meme's Fourth 
Bomb", which began inhabiting their body while 
they watched SCP-5218. No evidence of such an 
entity has been found. 


Object History: SCP-5218 was uploaded to YouTube 
on 2016-11-18 at 4:13 PM UTC. The uploading account, 
identified as "Gamer Without Weed Opinions", was 
created the day prior and had no other activity. Through 
unknown means, SCP-5218 was "recommended" to all 
YouTube users connected to the service through more 
than one anonymous proxy server. SCP-5218 received 
11,913 views before its removal; are confirmed to 
have come _ from Foundation employees; three 
individuals with information that could trigger SCP-5218's 
non-disclosure effect were affected. 


Additional Material: The following text comprised the 
description of SCP-5218 prior to its removal from 
YouTube. 


Hey. We get that you're just doing your job and 
you're probably aching to prove your chops so 
you can be put on an assignment that gets you 
more prestige than going after magical forum 
trolls, but seriously, trying to kidnap people is 
fucked up and rude, so consider this a "well, 
fuck you too". 


PS. Fair warning — if you don't take ' Under 
Pressure 4 's hint, you might have to deal with 
blunt's ‘Video Killed the Radio Star, or 
harm's ' Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger, . 


PPS. GOOD LUCK, YOU'RE BEHIND 7 
PROXIES 


The first to react to Jude's collision is the van's alarm, which goes off 
immediately. The second is Andy, who gasps and runs over. 
Armand sighs and heads after him at a somewhat slower pace. Only 
after being shaken does Jude bother trying to sit up and stem his 
nosebleed. "Calm down for fuck's sake, | was in football, | barely 
even felt that." He winces as he touches his obviously broken nose. 


"Judude what the ffffuck is goiiing on?" Armand glances back at the 
Denny's. He trots over to the entrance and looks inside, then heads 
back. "Grrreat, thisss isn't goininga away on its owwwn." 


Andy takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to Jude. "I 
take it this is your friend you sort of implied about? Hey, I'm Andy, 
the girl you guys are going to meet up with is my sister, we should 
get you to a —" 


Jude interrupts. "Seriously, stop. Give me like five seconds to focus 
and I'll fix it..." He rolls to face away from Andy and Armand. 
"Basically | got busted for using cloned bills and | did that to get 
away. Armand, is this guy legit?" 


Armand shrugs. "lili thinks so. Leeet's get out ooof here... 
Ananandy, ideeeas?" 


Andy takes his phone put of his pocket. "Yeah, hold on. You two, 
what are your lucky numbers?" He taps away at it a bit. 


"Twellllve.". Armand paces back and forth, occasionally glancing 
back at the restaurant. 


"Uh, seven thirty | think. Seven hundred and thirty." Jude gets up 
and walks towards the Toro, nose back in place and shirt clear of 
blood. He brushes gravel off of his shirt. 


Andy taps at his phone a bit, then grins. "730 is just north of here, 
and it hooks up with 12 around Wallula Junction. Come on, let's go." 
He takes a keychain out of his pocket. When he presses a button, a 
nearby Lamborghini chirps. 


Jude drums on the truck's dashboard, singing under his breath. "And 
now | understand the problems you can see. Oh-ah-oh, | met your 
childre~en. Oh-ah-oh, what did you t—" 


He stops singing when the music cuts out, replaced by a police 
scanner. Armand glances Jude's way as he puts his hand back on 
the steering wheel. "Yooou're in ag good mood." 


Jude shrugs. "I love that song. Plus there's this rush you get, right 
after you do a huge reality bending thing. | think it's adrenaline, or 
whatever that one neurotransmitter is. Morphine maybe?" 


"Remimiiind men notto take yooou to Denny's agaaain." He redirects 
his attention to the luxury car he's tailing. Why would you take a 
great car like that and give it a license plate reading 'TOPCHAN'? 


"I'm gonna crash in like an hour, don't worry." With a flick of his 
wrist, his own side of the cab resumes playing The Buggles. Armand 
is treated to several police officers wondering out loud what, if 
anything, to do about a restaurant that's bigger on the inside. 


The intersection of US-12 and US-730 is bordered on one side by a 


small, barren park (one bench and ten trees). Three men are 
dawdling there — Jude lies on a picnic table, looking straight up, 
while Armand and Andy rest on an ankle-high retaining wall. 


"So, Andy." Jude doesn't look away from the sky, picking at a loose 
splinter of wood on the tabletop. "While we're here waiting for, uh, 
inspiration to strike or something. Your sister's kind of a big deal, | 
take it? Like, 730's been my lucky number since eighth grade, how 
did she set that up?" 


Andy, who had been comfortably sharing the silence with Armand, 
takes a moment to register the question. "Oh. Uh." He stands up 
and turns around to look at Jude, stuffing his hands in his jacket 
pockets. "It's more of a destiny thing. If she wants you to reach her, 
it was always already gonna happen. And if she doesn't, it was 
never gonna happen." 


Jude pulls the splinter off and tosses it onto the ground. "Damn. 
That's like, cosmic levels of fucking around with stuff." Jude pulls the 
splinter off and tosses it onto the ground. 


Andy laughs a little. "Yeah. She says it... harnesses improbability, or 
something like that. | dunno." 


Armand tightens his coat around him as a gust of chilled wind rattles 
his small frame. "Lullluck people gottotta stickt together, | guesss." 


Sensing Andy's questioning glance, Jude pipes up. "We got uh, 
referred to your sister via — through a guy we know who has this 
like, insane luck all the time." Jude rights himself with a grunt, 
climbing down from the table. 


Andy nods understandingly. "Oh, okay. You know, | actually do 
know a guy with magical luck? | remember 'cause he beat me at 
Poker once. Cocky bastard. Maybe that's the guy?" 


Armand shares a glance with Jude before standing up himself. 
"Welll, it doedoes sounounds like himj. Jjjayjay lovesss poker. 
Wwwhere'd that hahappen?" 


Andy shrugs. "I dunno, it's hard to remember... it was like, two years 


as an amnestic is suspended indefinitely. Consult Incident Report 
AMN-C227-939 for further information. 


« SCP-938 | SCP-939 | SCP-940 » 


ago. At this really dingy bar." 


"Grangeville?" The other two turn to Jude as he picks up a dirtied 
and tattered newspaper from the ground. "This just blew into my 
foot. 'I\daho County Free Press, serving Grangeville and Idaho 


County’. 


Andy snaps his fingers — the snap is loud and sharp. "Yes. That's 
the place. Grangeville. The Establishment. I'll lead the way." He 
turns around and heads for his car. 


"Yyyep, leadead thew wwway." Armand and Jude head back 
towards the Toro. Jude smirks a bit at Armand before getting in. 


gaycopmp4: aaand done 

gaycopmp4: killer meme is in full effect lads 
lesbian_gengar: are you sure they're going to actually 
see it and figure it out? 

gaycopmp4: if theyre not hiding behind proxies img oing 
to astral project that would be so fuckign dumb of them 
gaycopmp4: fuck knows if the right janitors will see it 
though thats basically a crapshoot 

tiedyeduck: brb astrally projecting 

tiedyeduck: back 

tiedyeduck: the spirits say you're a nerd and won't hang 
out with you @gaycopmp4 

hetcopogg: >:O 

gaycopmp4: >:O0 

DonDeLillo: pak>:Oosh 

polaricecraps: whats the under/over on them actually 
getting the joke or just going bluh bluh anime is for jerks 
FreakyGhostBed: i don't think that's how over/unders 
work. 

jockjamsvol6: That being said, it's 69. 

bones: @jockjamsvol6. 

jockjamsvol6: Yeah? 

bones: Nice. 

kkrule: *