Doctor Henry Ozid: Alright, Michael, here's that video we made for the public… public image restoration campaign. Now, I'm gonna have to warn you, this video isn't going to be… well… easily understandable.
Michael Handler: Wait, what does that mean? It's gotta be good enough for the public, Henry, so it should be fairly easy to comprehend.
Dr. Ozid: Well, we wanted to make it more oriented towards a… younger audience, so we tried to make it a little… cooler. Like, with "memes" and "slang" and stuff.
Mr. Handler: Oh god, I'll see, but you know I of all people can't understand this generation any more than anyone else.
Dr. Ozid: Look, you have my office number, just give me a ring if anything stands out, alright?
Mr. Handler: Fine, fine. See you later.
Mr. Handler walks back into the PR office and takes a seat at his desk. He carefully inserts the flashdrive Doctor Ozid gave to him into his computer, and installs its contents. A single file, called KICWYHDATSCPF.mp4 appears on his desktop. Sighing, he clicks on it, and the video starts.

An instrumental version of "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley begins playing, as an animated SCP logo spirals into the center of the screen. The text "Keeping it Chill With Your Homies Down at the SCP Foundation," sparkles into view, around the logo. The screen fades into an outdoor setting, with a heavily graffiti-ed brick wall in the background. Two men enter from either edge of the screen, wearing baggy lab coats over colorful tee-shirts, alongside athletic shorts, Nike socks and sneakers, and most notably, generic blue baseball caps, worn with their rims facing backwards.
Doctor Chandler Wentworth: Wuzzup, party people? I'm Foundation Researcher, Chaz Wentworth!
Site Director Douglas Robertson: And I'm his friend, Bobby-Doug! And together we are…
Director Robertson and Dr. Wentworth each cross their arms, and lean against each other, facing out towards the camera, and either side of the screen.
Both in Unison: The "Supah Cool Peeps"!!!
A cartoon "Boing" sound effect is audible.
Dr. Wentworth: Today, Bobby-Doug and I want to talk to you dope fricken memelords about a lit organization made to keep all of you safe and able to go about your normal lives!
Director Robertson: That's right, Chaz! A lot of people have been saying some mean things about SCP that makes us very sad, but we want to tell you that it's all a bunch of yucky baloney! In fact, let me tell you guys a secret. The SCP foundation has stopped the world from ending over 9000 times!
Dr. Wentworth: How crazy cool is that? It makes me want to…
Both in Unison: Hit that da-da-da-daaaabbbbb!!!!
Director Robertson and Dr. Wentworth each make their own shabby attempt at executing a popular dance move known as the "dab," wherein the performer points their flattened palms face down, and out to one direction, allowing their outermost armpit to come in contact with their lowered face.
Director Robertson: Yeet!
Dr. Wentworth: Yeet!

Mr. Handler pauses the video. Turning his swivel chair towards the phone, he dials Dr. Ozid's office number. The phone rings three times before Dr. Ozid picks up.
Dr. Ozid: Hello, this is Doctor Henry Ozid, Site-96 General Research and Containment.
Mr. Handler: Hi Henry, it's Michael.
Dr. Ozid: Oh, hey Michael. Did you take a look at that video yet?
Mr. Handler: That's what I'm doing right now. And uhhh… what the hell, is this some kind of joke? They just did like… a dab or something, and now they're both going "Yeet" or whatever the hell. Isn't that a cuss word?
Dr. Ozid: I don't… think so? Let me look it up.
Doctor Ozid can be heard typing something into his keyboard.
Dr. Ozid: Okay, I looked it up, it says yeet means "To discard an item at high velocity."
Mr. Handler: What? But Chandler and Douglass both just like… said it randomly, without any context. This has to be coherent if we want to release it to the public!
Dr. Ozid: Look, you know our intern, Barry? He's 19, he knows what he's doing, he said kids these days just say "Yeet" all the time, by itself. So… whatever, you know?
Mr. Handler: Alright… I trust you, Henry. Talk to you soon.
Dr. Ozid: Bye, Michael.
Mr. Handler hangs up, and unpauses the video.

Director Robertson: But seriously, squad. The SCP Foundation tries finna hard to make everyone on earth safer, by containing dangerous or weird stuff.
Dr. Wentworth: Of course, that doesn't mean weird is a bad thing, but we wouldn't want something anomalous walking around, would we?
Director Robertson: Whoa there Chaz, epic use of the word "Anomalous". Do you kids know what "Anomalous" means? I could tell you myself, but I think I have a very good friend who would love to tell you instead! Come on in, 999!
Dr. Ozid, wearing a large foam costume reminiscent of SCP-999, shambles on screen.
Dr. Ozid: Hiya kids, I'm SCP-999, and I love helping people! I want to help you by teaching you a big word. "Anomalous". That's A-N-O-M-A-L-O-U-S! Something is anomalous when it does not follow the general rules of normal society! Now, would a criminal be considered anomalous, since they do not follow the rules? Certainly! However, we're using it to mean something a little different. Here, the word anomalous means something that doesn't make any sense. Like myself! I am anomalous, because I am a living blob of slime!
Dr. Wentworth: Wow, that's a thicc description, 999! Thanks so much for coming!
Dr. Ozid: Oh, my pleasure Chand… I mean uhh, Chaz!
Doctor Ozid turns, and begins to walk off screen. In the process, a large chunk of foam breaks off of the costume, and lands on the floor. A cartoon "Bonk" sound effect plays. He quickly bends down to remove it, and falls forward. The same "Bonk" sound is audible. Director Robertson helps him up, and ushers him out of the viewing area.

Mr. Handler pauses the video. He places his forehead into his palm and takes a series of deep breaths. After about a minute, he sits back up and unpauses the video.

Director Robertson: Now that you know what anomalous means, let's talk a little about some of the anomalous things we have at the foundation, and why our work is so savage! I mean, we could contain slender man, we could contain Dame Tu Cosita, we could even contain big chungus! Chaz, what's your dopest favorite scp?
Dr. Wentworth: Bobby, I know just the thing. Last thursday, I was in charge of a monthly event with SCP-4252, one of the resident anomalies here at Site-96. SCP-4252 is this wacky room full of—you won't believe this—baked beans! The room fills up with baked beans every month, and then we summon a magical bean leprechaun with a spell! And, wanna know the craziest part? He eats all the beans right there and then! If that isn't an "are slash dankmeme", than I don't know what is!
Director Robertson: Ahh, that's hot, Chaz. Totally fire. But, sadly, fam, a lot of the anomalies we keep are actually hecka mean, and that makes us feel "no me gusta". Our biggest job is to keep you all safe from them, but for some reason, haters keep trololololling us by saying we are bad and we should destroy our company, and it just makes us want to do surgery on a grape.
Dr. Wentworth: But here's the thing, home-slices. We actually do a ton of great things for humanity as a whole. We eradicated dysentery, kept a fungal disaster from spreading, and we've trapped countless monsters who, without our help, would probably be going sicko mode on our tushies!
Director Robertson: Now, I think it's about time we talk about the thing you all want to know about. And no, it's not fortnite. It's our very own D-Class Boyeeees. Here at the SCP Foundation, we get help from our epic D-Classes to test out the anomalous effects of various creatures and places that we want to know more about. In fact, we have someone you might want to meet. Come on out!
A man in an orange jumpsuit walks slowly onto screen and stands in between Director Robertson and Dr. Wentworth. He is visibly uncomfortable.
D-411: Uhhh… hi. I'm D-411, but you can call me Glenn. I uhh… I used to be a bad guy, I stole a bunch of stuff and injured some people trying to escape, but I got caught. I was in jail for 4 years before the SCP Foundation offered me a job. I've been here for like 2 weeks, and uhh… it's better than jail. Other than taking a science test and talking to some old dude in a bathroom, I've just been chilling.
Dr. Wentworth: D-411, is your life sweet now that you've become a D-Class Personnel?
D-411: I mean, I guess. You know, I'm still not free, but at least I feel like I have a purpose. You know?
Director Robertson: Terrific. Well, thanks for Netflix and Chilling with us, D-411, that was really swag of you!
D-411: Yeah okay whatever.
D-411 exits. Simultaneously, a slide whistle is heard moving up, and then back down.

Mr. Handler pauses the video. He opens Internet Explorer and types the phrase "Netflix and Chill" into the search bar. After loading for 20 seconds, a definition appears at the top of the browser.

"Netflix and chill" is an Internet slang term used either as an invitation to watch Netflix together or as a euphemism for sexual activity, either as part of a romantic partnership or as casual sex or as a groupie invitation.

Mr. Handler shakes his head in disapproval. He scribbles something down on a sticky note before unpausing the video.

Director Robertson: How "Le Epic" is that? D-Class Personnel are actually treated great at the SCP Foundation! We take them out of prisons where they don't want to be, and let them stay with us, as long as they help with a few science experiments.
Dr. Wentworth: And yes, sometimes the experiments are dangerous, but we do them because we want you dope peeps to be chillin on Earth for a long long time, and if we didn't have our D-Friends to test stuff for us, we might not have enough information to keep everyone safe!
A 1940's cartoon era "Aooga" sound effect is audible.
Director Robertson: Well, fam, that's our cue to leave you guys alone. But I hope you dudes and dudettes keep everything we said in mind. And remember, as long as you focus hard and get a lot done, you, too, can save the world!
Dr. Wentworth and Director Robertson wave at the screen, as it fades to black.

Mr. Handler takes a moment to unpack what he just watched. He reaches for the phone, but stops himself. Turning back to his computer, he opens his email and checks the project deadline.

Sunday, April 22, by 4:00 pm.

Mr. Handler looks at the bottom right corner of his screen.

3:42 PM
4/22

Mr. Handler sighs. He reaches under his desk and pulls out a half empty bottle of scotch and a glass. He pours himself a shot, drinks it, and presses "Send".