"This is seriously my only option? Pimp myself out as a laughingstock for the whole site?"
OKOLWE INQUIRY
SCP-9616 CONTAINMENT BREACH
SELECTED EXCERPTS
FULL TRANSCRIPT AVAILABLE AT REQUEST VIA RAISA
INTRODUCTION
This enquiry, henceforth the OKOLWE INQUIRY, was summoned to produce a report into the breach of SCP-9616 from containment at Site-188 on 17 MARCH 2007. The scope of the inquiry was expanded at the request of Mrs. FOROUGH KHANDAN and Dr. DOROTHY MORAN.
The commissioners responsible:
1. Dr. ZAMIRA OKOLWE: Chief Commissioner, Containment Oversight Committee.
WITNESSES
1. Dr. DOROTHY MORAN: Senior Jester, Department of Applied Humor.
2. Mrs. FOROUGH KHANDAN: HMCL Supervisor, Site-188.
3. Director MARCUS PRITCHARD: Department of Applied Humor.
4. Dr. EMILY ZHANG: Sentient Anomaly Therapist, Site-188.
5. Mr. ALAN BENNETT: Containment Officer, Site-188.
6. Mr. AIDAN JOHNSON: Guard, Site-188.
OKOLWE: Good afternoon, everyone. Now that we're quorate, let's get started. I believe we're only missing Dr. Moran and Mr. Johnson?
KHANDAN: Johnson is still recovering from his injuries, he won't be able to appear today.
PRITCHARD: Dolly is running a few minutes late. I'm afraid our department can occasionally put some unique pressures on its employees.
OKOLWE: Whilst we wait, let's go over some housekeeping. Today is a preliminary discussion, regarding the breach of SCP-9616. The purpose of this is so investigators, i.e. me, can gain additional context and information from involved personnel. In the coming days, I will be requesting additional sworn testimony from each individual. If at any point you wish to submit a document, recording, or item into evidence, please do so ASAP because it can take a few days to clear.
[Murmur of agreement from participants]
OKOLWE: Let's start from the top with the main SCP—
[Dr. MORAN enters the room]
MORAN: Sorry for my tardiness, Commissioner, but with what's—
ZHANG: [Under breath] Christ above.
KHANDAN: Ms. Moran—
OKOLWE: I take it you're the jester. Are you — I mean do you seriously wear that every day?
MORAN: Only for special occasions.
BENNETT: Given the serious nature of this inquiry I requested that Dr. Moran wear her dress blues.
PRITCHARD: And greens. And reds.
MORAN: Thank you, Alan. The ability to starch a foolscap when half the taps in the site are still belching mosquito paste is a key qualification for senior jestership in the Department of Foolishness.
PRITCHARD: Commissioner, the Department of Fool— Applied Humor takes its work very seriously. Dolly here went above and beyond, in a time when plumbing troubles have prevented some from even ironing their shirt.
BENNETT: At least I've changed mine since the seventies. My apologies, Commissioner.
MORAN: He can't help looking like that anyway, it's practically baked into his DNA at this point.
OKOLWE: Okay, everyone, let's just pull up the SCP-9616 file, please.
2/9616 LEVEL 2/9616
CLASSIFIED
Item #: SCP-9616
Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-9616 is contained in a standard humanoid containment cell at Site-188. The ventilation system of SCP-9616's cell is to be isolated from the general site ventilation. SCP-9616 is to be provided with a diet of meat and nutrients sufficient for an adult human, blended into a thin slurry and served in a wide bowl with a large available surface area. Deceased SCP-9616-A instances should be cleaned from the cell daily.
OKOLWE: Well, this is clearly out of date. Is there a reason it hasn't been updated?
KHANDAN: The new procedures are still waiting on Site-95's people to sign off.
OKOLWE: And the object class? Everyone needed to approve its upgrade to Keter is sitting in the room right now.
BENNETT: I'll action that tonight, Commissioner.
Description: SCP-9616 is a sentient and sapient swarm of between 3500 and 4000 anomalous Culex quinquefasciatus, commonly known as the southern house mosquito. SCP-9616 commonly forms a dense swarm in an appropriately humanoid shape. Individual SCP-9616 members, referred to as SCP-9616-A instances, live for approximately 2 weeks, performing a form of asexual reproduction at one week of age that produces a fully grown Culex quinquefasciatus. SCP-9616-A may be separated from the swarm, or may be formed into subswarms with SCP-9616 maintaining control over them, though this induces significant mental distress in SCP-9616. SCP-9616 is capable of vocalisation via synchronisation of wing-beats. Experiments have shown that a subswarm requires at least 140 members before it can vocalise in a way that is comprehensible to greater than 90% of listeners. When vocalising, separate subswarms all produce identical sounds and words. Toxicological testing on SCP-9616-A instances has not revealed any human-biocompatible blood-borne diseases.
SCP-9616 identifies itself as Andreas Katsaros, born 19 November 1981. Katsaros was reported missing from his home at ██ G█████ St, Dunedin, New Zealand on 03 August 1993. SCP-9616 has refused to elaborate on the circumstances of its disappearance, or how its anomalous properties initially manifested, only stating "I was always a pest." SCP-9616 was brought into foundation custody on 09 April 2000 after it presented itself to Goulburn Hospital, NSW, Australia.
UPDATE 18 MARCH 2007
SCP-9616 is capable of accelerating the reproduction of SCP-9616-A, allowing significant increases in volume and density at exponential rates. The rate of increase is constant across all subswarms and individual instances. If contained in a closed container, SCP-9616 is capable of increasing its density, and thus the pressure inside the closed container. The upper limit of this pressure is not known. In high-pressure scenarios, SCP-9616-A are compressed and liquefied. Liquefied SCP-9616-A are able to maintain reproduction of healthy SCP-9616-A for an unknown but finite amount of time, after which the liquified members become functionally deceased.
Addendum 1 — Excerpts from Dr. Zhang's Case Notes
11 MAY 2005
Andy's depressive symptoms are becoming increasingly severe. I got permission from the site director to get him access to the LTSA common room, after Dr Khandan confirmed that he is limited to a roughly humanoid form. No idea how, I don't think she has ever actually seen Andy in the flesh. Even so, he very rarely leaves his containment cell, even when provided materials and activities that should interest him. My hypothesis is that he has developed a strange sort of agoraphobia, even though 'outside' for him is still just concrete corridors and walls. In our sessions, he says that he feels he will 'fall apart' if he stays outside of an enclosed space for too long. If I had more time, I'd be able to work through this with him, but for now all I can do is make sure he stays stimulated. I'll see if I can get him a DVD player and the ability to request from the site library.
28 SEPTEMBER 2005
Had my first session in 3 months with Andy. The depression and agoraphobia have only gotten worse. According to the guards, none of them have seen him leave his cell in the last six weeks. He's been watching a lot of movies, almost three a day, and he's well on his way to exhausting the site library. I'll send out a request for more and see if I can burn some disks for him.
17 JANUARY 2006
Finally had a small breakthrough. Turns out Andy considered himself an amateur film critic prior to his containment (If I ever actually had free time, I might be able to actually research my patients for once). He gave me a pile of reviews for me to read. The few I've skimmed seemed overwhelmingly negative, especially for anything made in the last 50 years. During our session he spent the first half talking about the German Expressionist movement, and in the second half declared "Total war against the blockbuster" and described Spielberg as "The greatest criminal of the 20th century".
05 MARCH 2006
Andy is still miserable, but hardly depressed. I looked at his request records for the last month; It was 90 percent comedies, and he hates every single one of them. In our last session he was by far the most animated I have seen him. There are few things he loves more than describing in detail just how much he despises modern comedy and comedians. Turns out, if your name isn't Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Abbot or Costello then you may as well never tell a joke. Apparently, Monty Python "Were funny three times in their whole career, after which they should have been promptly euthanised", every stand-up comedian "Deserves nothing less than a firing squad" and sitcoms are "God's punishment for the insane".
21 JULY 2006
Advice to anyone who has to contain him: If you ever need to calm him down, just tell a joke or an anecdote you think is funny and he'll spend the next twenty minutes explaining why it isn't.
18 DECEMBER 2006
I've been assigned 28 (!!) new cases in the last month, so I need to find a way to wrap up Andy. Using foundation funds to purchase new comedies indefinitely is a non-starter, and I can't keep burning disks every night. I'll ask around, see if anyone on site has ideas.
11 JANUARY 2007
Got a message from an old colleague at Site-139. Turns out someone she knows has recently been promoted to 'Senior Jester' at the Department of Foolishness. No idea why or what duties she's supposed to have, but we might finally be able to get something useful out of that basket-case of a department. I'll shoot an email to the department head after lunch and see if we can work something out.
14 JANUARY 2007
Met the Jester, Dolly Moran, shortly after she arrived. Disappointed to see she wasn't wearing a jester's uniform, but she assured me it was in her luggage and would be worn when on the clock. Very happy to be handing over Andy, our sessions weren't achieving much, and I have almost an entire wing to take care of after Henry quit.
OKOLWE: Mr. Bennett, were you aware of Zhang involving Dr. Moran in SCP-9616's containment?
BENNETT: I was. At the time, Zhang was taking care of nearly half the sentient anomalies on site so we were happy to do anything to relieve her workload. I organized the personnel transfer of Dr Moran to 188.
OKOLWE: Mrs. Khandan, you signed off on that; were you aware of the role Dr. Moran would play in SCP-9616's containment?
KHANDAN: I was told it was unorthodox, but I was not aware of the details, no.
OKOLWE: Dr Zhang, in your subsequent sessions with SCP-9616, how did it respond to Dr. Moran?
ZHANG: There weren't any subsequent sessions
OKOLWE: Excuse me?
[PRITCHARD laughs]
ZHANG: With the limited time I had each week, and the fact that Andy's - Sorry, 9616's condition had significantly improved meant that he just wasn't a high priority. I did tell Dolly to notify me if she noticed his depressive symptoms returning—
OKOLWE: Dr. Moran, do you have any clinical or mental health training?
MORAN: Fat load of bugger all.
OKOLWE: Okay. Alright. Let's um— You know, let's take a leaf out of Dr. Moran's book and speak a bit more frankly. Because we all know what burnout is. We've all read sloppy documentation, and we've all seen bad ideas being rubberstamped by overworked supervisors. This is not what this inquiry is about. What I, the Ethics Committee, the Department of Internal Affairs, and hell, even RAISA are really interested in is the Department of Applied Humor. Or what I suspect is the more correct name, the Department of Foolishness.
PRITCHARD: I am ever your humble servant in this matter.
OKOLWE: Director, please tell me what the purpose of your department is, because every single document about it is plagued by the kind of vagueness that drives RAISA types insane. We know who works in it but little more than that. There are apparently research projects, but none of them have produced anything notable. The incident reports are focused on insulting the personnel involved and little else. And there appears to be little rhyme or reason to the anomalies you are responsible for.
MORAN: The short answer is because that's the point and because Pritchard's an asshole.
OKOLWE: Honestly, I'm surprised we could do this kind of review at all, many of us kind of assumed you were one of those strange non-departments that only sort of exists.
PRITCHARD: I'm sorry to disappoint, Commissioner. Our remit is regrettably mundane. Do you mind if I go into the history of the department?
OKOLWE: Go ahead.
PRITCHARD: The department was founded in 1926 to study humorous, ridiculous or otherwise silly anomalies. The hypothesis was that the universe had a sense of humor, and that the anomalous was in effect a grand joke at humanity's expense. They dreamt that in getting the joke, we would expand our understanding of both the normative and anomalous worlds. Research would eventually stall out in the 40s, and the department got a reputation for being a bunch of indolent, immature slackers.
OKOLWE: I take it this is where the 'Department of Foolishness' nickname came from?
PRITCHARD: Precisely, though the cause of the nickname has… changed somewhat. The reputation always overstated the case anyway. Most outsiders only saw the kinds of anomalies they dealt with and never saw the researchers as their equals, especially as they would proclaim themselves Fools with a kind of ironic pride. There would be occasional revivals in the Sense of Humor Hypothesis, seeing bursts of funding and bright new recruits, but the death blow came in the seventies with the 'Pataphysics boom. Pretty much everything worthwhile was-
OKOLWE: Was what?
PRITCHARD: Let me just find - There we go. Pretty much everything worthwhile was gutted out and sent over to 'Pataphysics. Because it turns out the universe does have a sense of humor, but it also has a sense of tragedy, drama, action, spy thriller and detective novel. So the department spent the start of the eighties doing absolutely nothing, which is why, in the digital records, it looks like it comes out of nowhere. Anyway, after the Keter duty fiasco— Were you around for that?
OKOLWE: Before my time, I'm afraid.
PRITCHARD: Oh no, Be glad you weren't here. So, after that whole mess the 05s and the Ethics Committee make a joint ruling: No more punishment assignments. Not officially, at least. Sure you could get someone to do paperwork for a week, get them transferred somewhere remote, somewhere boring, but you couldn't have somewhere purely to send all the screw-ups. At least not on paper. And that is where the us Fools come in. A whole department of asinine anomalies, and humiliating assignments that no self-respecting Foundation employee would willingly touch with a ten foot pole.
OKOLWE: I see. And if this is all unofficial and off the record, how come you're just, well, happily entering it onto the record.
PRITCHARD: Because I don't control the record, that's for people well above our heads who can fight back with task forces and black highlighters. The most I have to worry about is a threatening email from one of those guys.
OKOLWE: Thank you, Director. Let's move on to how this particular Fool performed.
Addendum 2: Audio Log
The following is a log of Dolly Moron's first session as SCP-9616's Jester.
[Dolly enters the containment cell, wearing full 15th century European jester regalia, complete with tricorn foolscap]
SCP-9616: Senior Jester Dolly Moran, I presume?
Dolly: Yeah, yeah, give me two seconds.
SCP-9616: Please, take all the time you need. Every critic must give their target a fair chance. Although, as you appear to be acting in the tradition of the balatrones, I shall not save the review for the end, and instead let it form a dialogue between performer and audience.
Dolly: Great, yeah, heckle me all you want. [Under breath] Dickhead.
[Dolly begins juggling]
SCP-9616: To call this amateurish would be to credit it far too highly.
Dolly: And accurate, I'm afraid. [Clears throat]
Dolly: [Spoken in faux-deep voice] Okay, so you've been taken in the night by a shadowy, paramilitary group. Now, you may be thinking 'Oh no, my life is over. I'm going to spend the rest of my life eating grey goop in a grey box with a grey door.' But it's actually not as bad as it seems.
SCP-9616: Well at this exact moment, I'm afraid the experience is abysmal.
Dolly: Because on Fridays, the cafeteria serves pink sludge.
SCP-9616: You know, gallows humor is only humorous if it's said by the party being hanged.
Dolly: I don't want to be here eith— Why don't you buzz off, dude.
SCP-9616: Ah, wordplay! The final redoubt of pseudointellectual, the trophy of the philosophical coward. And an insult, though one with little thrust or energy.
Dolly: Pseud— It was the most obvious pun possible.
SCP-9616: That too.
Bennett: [From outside cell] How are you freaks getting on? Has he compared you to a—
Dolly: [To Bennett] Do you mind?
Dolly: Okay, okay, what else, have I got?
SCP-9616: Not much, from the sound of it.
Dolly: So I work in the Department of Foolishness, and a lot of funny stuff happens in a department like that. So one day, we get an email telling us someone will deliver an anomaly to us tomorrow. 2 months later, that guy arrives, carrying a rock, and he says he will tell us what it does tomorrow, but we decide to look it up on the database and-
SCP-9616: It is quite incredible, the amount of apathy a simple anecdote can produce, don't you think?
Dolly: You didn't even let me finish— Actually no, that was the right call. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, give me something I can work with.
SCP-9616: My name full name is Andreas Katsaros, I was born In Dun—
Dolly: Wait, you're Greek? Okay, I've got a good one. A Greek, a Turk and a Macedonian walk into a bar.
Dolly: He orders a beer.
SCP-9616: Another tired national stereotype. So worn down it neither offends nor amuses.
Dolly: See, that's where you're wrong, it always gets a rise out of my mate Stergios.
SCP-9616: Even here, hidden in the bowels of the earth, simpletons are still dispensing praise to the unworthy. I am glad to see that their charity continues in such oppressive conditions.
Dolly: Fantastic. Thanks. I’ll be sure to take all of your feedback on board.
SCP-9616: I fear the only feedback that would make a difference would be a referral for a glossectomy.
[Dolly Leaves the containment cell]
OKOLWE: Mr. Bennett, was that spelling mistake at the start deliberate?
MORAN: What do you think?
BENNETT: Of course not.
PRITCHARD: If it wasn't, I'm disappointed
OKOLWE: And why does this transcript refer to Dr. Moran so informally?
BENNETT: I was given instructions from the Department of Foo— of Applied Humor
OKOLWE: Is there a record of these instructions?
BENNETT: Not in writing—
PRITCHARD: I feel like quoting our friend in containment.
OKOLWE: Mrs. Khandan, did these not come up in review?
KHANDAN: The substance of the transcript was accurate. If I held up every piece of documentation when there's an error like this, we wouldn't have a single set of completed containment procedures.
PRITCHARD: To call this amateurish…
OKOLWE: That's everything in the SCP file covered. I am aware this inquiry is holding up the publication of the latest incident report, so that's no issue. If we can all open up the next item in evidence.
DORATHY MORAN
PERSONNEL RECORD — EXECUTIVE SUMMARY
15 JUNE 2001
First contact by the foundation. Moran was sought for recruitment due to her prior military experience and PhD in Engineering.
18 NOVEMBER 2001
Recruited to the Foundation and taken under the Veil. Began training as a field technical officer.
25 MAY 2001
Finished training. Assigned to Site-156 as a junior technical officer.
05 JANUARY 2002
Reprimanded for unnecessary risk-taking during containment breach of SCP-████
12 FEBRUARY 2003
Seconded to MTF Zeta-17 "Dambusters" to support field operations
13 SEPTEMBER 2005
Promoted to the Department of Foolishness in recognition of meritorious conduct. Transferred to Site-139.
17 MARCH 2006
Commended for meritorious conduct. Assigned to project IDLE.
09 JANUARY 2007
Promoted to Senior Jester in the Department of Foolishness in recognition of meritorious conduct.
13 JANUARY 2006
Assigned to be the personal jester of SCP-9616.
23 FEBRUARY 2007
Promoted to be general staff jester at site-188.
25 FEBRUARY 2007
Promoted to be the personal jester of SCP-9616.
OKOLWE: Let's get this straight for the record. The commendations are in fact reprimands, and promotions are quite the opposite?
PRITCHARD: That's where you're mistaken. Dolly was commended for going above and beyond what was expected of her. And the promotions were because Dolly proved again and again just how qualified she was for a position in this department.
OKOLWE: Alright, Dr. Moran, does your assessment match his?
MORAN: I mean, he is the head of the department, and certainly the most qualified, so take from that what you will. But no, both 'commended' and 'promoted' pretty much equate to 'shit-canned' when Prichard uses them.
PRITCHARD: And all those shit-cannings were an expression of my department's appreciation for all your remarkable work.
OKOLWE: Talk me through these incidents in order, please.
MORAN: Well when it comes to my friend blank-blank-blank-blank, I know less than you. After that one they pumped me up with so many amnestics it turned my piss into a controlled substance. I stayed doing fieldwork, studying anomalous structures, particularly infrastructure and the like. Spent 2 months on an infinite highway, consulted on some Daevite sewers, but kept looking for something a bit more exciting. So I got a technical support role with the Dambusters. I'd been a sapper in the army, they specialised in breaching fortifications, it was a match made in heaven.
OKOLWE: And then?
MORAN: We were raiding a Sarkic compound in West Papua. Someone had let them know we were coming, they'd locked the place down. Sealed themselves inside a flesh cocoon the size of an apartment block. Used the entire population of the seven closest villages to do it. Teams there couldn't breach it, so they called the Dambusters. We arrived, went through the usual checklist. Shaped charges, undermining, thaumic lances, ultrasonics, macro-flensers, nothing worked. You would cut through it, it would just regrow. It had muscles the size of a car, it would just snap whatever we stuck into it. Kept moving as well, we'd form a hole and it would just rearrange itself. We would have worn it down eventually, no doubt, but command wanted it cracked open yesterday. Couldn't just bomb it either, apparently command had a line on what was inside and wanted to grab it for the Foundation, and take prisoners if possible. But crucially, it was alive, and the base architecture was human, so that meant that we should be able to poison it. We couldn't get a needle in there, but we could use a dermal patch, like a nicotine patch.
BENNETT: [Laughs] This is how you got that nickname? I've always wanted to hear why we call you that.
MORAN: You don't know— How did you even know about it?
PRITCHARD: I sent a very complimentary introduction email to the site when you arrived.
MORAN: Of course you fucking— [Unintelligible]
MORAN: Sorry, Commissioner. Has anyone got a copy of that email?
OKOLWE: I'm afraid we can only look at what's already been entered into evidence. We were up to the dermal patch?
MORAN: Yes, we were. I was the nearest person with any head for maths, so was calculating doses. I give the numbers to the captain, and he ups the number by 50 percent, says command is on his ass and he can't take any chances. We get it ready, slap it on and all hell breaks loose. It's convulsing, tearing itself apart, spraying blood and pus and god knows what over everyone. There's flesh rotting, sloughing off in, like, waves. It stinks, it absolutely reeks. Sometimes I wonder if I ever actually washed the smell off me.
BENNETT: No comment.
KHANDAN: Time and place, Alan.
MORAN: At some point, tears start appearing, big massive rips. They seal up after half a second but they're growing bigger and bigger, and pretty soon the Sarks start shooting out of them. They're in a complete panic, so they don't hit anyone, thank god, but they didn't seem particularly keen on getting on their knees with their hands up. After a minute of this, a great big rip opens up right in front of me. I've got clear line of sight, dead on to a group of heavily armed Sarks. So I take the shot, a forty mike-mike right in the gaping wound. And the whole thing goes up in flames, along with my reputation.
KHANDAN: That's it? I've had subordinates screw up fifty times worse than that and he's — they've — never been, uh, promoted to your department.
PRITCHARD: Well, he hasn't been promoted anywhere else. I wouldn't want to break his streak.
MORAN: That isn't— that isn't what did it. Because whilst that thing was spewing blood and pus and whatever, it was filling itself with stomach acid and bile and all kinds of nasty gasses and the upped dose was reacting with all of it and once it lit up, it was over. It just burned down into a massive pile of shit, that thirty-five of us had to spend all of two days shoveling through. Now, shoveling through shit is one thing. Soldiers don't care, it's what they're made for, some of them love it. "Look at our Dolly here, she makes buildings shit themselves!" But shoveling shit whilst command is screaming in your ear about capturing anomalies and prisoners and whatever shiny toys they expected to find is another. And finding sweet F.A. is about as much as MTF esprit-de-corps can handle.
OKOLWE: So what specifically—
MORAN: I stomped on a Second Lieutenant's head when he wouldn't stop calling me Shithouse Dolly.
KHANDAN: That'll do it.
MORAN: Only reason I didn't get fired is because he actually stuck up for me. Turned out to be a decent guy, realized he kind of deserved it. CO of the MTF offered me a deal. If I went over to the Department of Foolishness, there'd be no disciplinary hearing, no mark against my name, no docked pay. All I had to do was gargle Pritchard's balls for six months and I could come back smiling and smelling of roses.
PRITCHARD: It would have worked out like that as well, if she hadn't planned to break into the site armory.
MORAN: That's not— I had drawn up a contingency. For emergencies. That's kind of what we do here, isn't it?
KHANDAN: Only some of us.
PRITCHARD: That wasn't your job anymore. Your job was to take all the unimportant paperwork that no-one else cares about and to eat whatever crap I threw at you.
OKOLWE: This was what got you assigned to project IDLE?
MORAN: Yeah, apparently, I was a 'security risk' that could only be mitigated by having Pritchard breathe down my neck for a year.
OKOLWE: And what is, or was, this project? There's a budget line for it on ScipNet, but nothing else that I can access.
PRITCHARD: A holdover from the department's original incarnation. A project to develop a joke so funny, it kills whoever hears it. It was cutting edge about 60 years ago. The implementation has changed somewhat since then.
MORAN: It was actually just dealing with all the nonsense that Memetics didn't want. Do you have any idea how many mild cognitohazards are created by accident? Book chapters that give you a headache, ringtones that give people the runs, this stuff can fly under the radar for years. It's not important enough or dangerous enough to justify using D-class, just busywork for us Fools to sort through.
PRITCHARD: But we all wait in hope for the invention of a more humane alternative to the traditional kill agents.
OKOLWE: And the promotion to jester?
MORAN: I thought I saw a pattern in the hazards we were getting. Individually, they would do very little, like a comic panel that would make you sneeze, a postcard that made your right foot itch. But there were the same images, similar words and themes that just kept repeating. I knew that it was not ours to wonder why, so I shot an email to Memetics and got on with it.
PRITCHARD: I believe that it received the due deference that a communiqué from this department deserves.
MORAN: Yeah, so it gets ignored, but it sticks in my head. I know absolutely nothing about Memetics, but I keep piecing it together. It was little more than a categorization exercise. And then I decide I've got enough evidence, and I go to take it to Memetics. But I can't get an appointment, so I go and confront a group of them in the canteen. To make sure this thing was safe to talk about, me and another hopeless case ran through several permutations and figured out we could basically explain the whole thing whilst only causing mild stomachache. An actual Memetecist could probably figure out how to sanitize it properly, but I don't have that knowledge or training, I'm just doing it raw. So, I go to a group of them, the research head of Site-139 is with them. I start trying to explain, warn them that my explanation is itself hazardous, but the pattern I've spotted could be part of something much larger. They see the Department of Foolishness emblem on my nametag and blow me off, but I keep going. They do everything they can to ignore me, but they start looking queasy and not one of them can finish their lunch.
PRITCHARD: That afternoon, I received an email from the site research head, accusing one of my subordinates of deliberately and recklessly exposing a group of researchers to a cognitohazard.
MORAN: Yes, I have an audio recording from your office from that day.
ZHANG: I love how the foundation has bugs in all our offices. Does great things for morale.
MORAN: Alan's going to love this.
AUDIO LOG
Office of Marcus Pritchard, Director, Dept. Applied Humor, Site-139
MORAN: What do you want?
PRITCHARD: Was it you?
MORAN: What? No. Was what me?
PRITCHARD: Did you happen to run into our delightful research head at lunch?
MORAN: Yeah, he was with the memetecists, I was trying to explain the pattern I'd—
PRITCHARD: Oh, Christ alive— of all the fucked—
MORAN: This is actually fucking— This actually matters, Marcus.
PRITCHARD: So what! That isn't your decision to make! I told you, send the bloody email and that's the end of it.
MORAN: They never even read the stupid email! What's the use of sending an email if no one actually reads it.
PRITCHARD: It's a paper trail, it's— Jesus Christ, no wonder you keep ending up here.
MORAN: What? Is this going to be another one of your—
PRITCHARD: What is a Foundation site? Fundamentally, what is a Foundation site?
MORAN: In my experience? The world's finest dickhead collection.
PRITCHARD: It's a fan factory. A huge, fuck-off, China-sized factory making nothing but huge, fuck-off fans. And every single fan is spinning at a hundred RPM, non-stop. And every so often, someone throws a lump of shit right into those fans. The cunts who run this fan factory, they don't like that, they want to find whoever messed up their beautiful factory. And today, Dolly, you spat a perfectly shaped glob of shit right through a fan, directly onto the biggest cunt in the whole place.
MORAN: I was warning them about a legitimate threat.
PRITCHARD: You blurted out a cognitohazard in the middle of the canteen! To the fucking research head! What would you do if you ever stumbled on a Berryman-Langford? "Ooh, I'm not sure about this, better show the site director!" You know he wants me to investigate if you're a mole, see if that was an assassination attempt.
MORAN: You can't be serious.
PRITCHARD: I'm deadly serious, look at my face, I'm deadly fucking serious. The greasy nonce is squeezing us harder than he squeezes his tiny, shriveled cock at night. He wants to bugger us all up the tunnel with a rusty spade. This could be it, this could be it Dolly, this could be fucking it for you. And when they fire you, he's going to put some very nasty memories in your head to cover up what the amnestics take out.
MORAN: Sounds good to me, can't be worse than the actual memories of working here. God knows why I stayed this long.
PRITCHARD: You still want to save the world, don't you?
[Silence]
MORAN: I did, but fat chance of that ever happening in this department.
PRITCHARD: There is a way through this, alright. We still have options. I mean, fuck me, you're not even supposed to still be here! You could have been out of here a year ago. But you just can't help yourself, can you? Always got to go above and fucking beyond.
MORAN: Okay, tell me. exactly how am I supposed to get back to where I'm supposed to be? Because if you say the same shit about keeping my head down and eating whatever the other departments serve us, then I swear I will do something that will get both of us in front of a firing squad.
PRITCHARD: You're not going to keep your bloody head down, not any more. You could never do it in the first place. So let's play to your strengths. I am going to promote you, right, to the Department of Foolishness Senior Jester.
MORAN: Jester?
PRITCHARD: Jester. You will go around, and entertain, juggle, tell jokes, do, I don't know, some fucking funny shit. Sodomize yourself with a root vegetable for all I care. Spread laughter and joy and all the crap that the sad little twats working here have written off long ago.
MORAN: You want me to, what? Make a fool of myself? Full time? Get fucked.
PRITCHARD: I don't know why you're objecting, you've been doing this for free the last two years.
MORAN: This is seriously my only option? Pimp myself out as a laughingstock for the whole site?
PRITCHARD: Yeah! Easiest fucking job in the world if you ask me. It's either this or become part of the department's senior research staff.
MORAN: Would that be so bad?
PRITCHARD: What are you talking about, you've seen them! These people, they're diseased, they're fucking lepers. People don't even want to look at them, they're infectious! They'll make your balls turn black and fall off, and the only cure is jamming a syringe full of class-As straight into your fucking eyeball. Actually, makes sense you don't remember them, I can't imagine anyone cherishing that memory.
MORAN: Right, but If I become a jester then life just becomes sunshine and roses?
PRITCHARD: Compared to senior research it will be! They're not even alive! Once you're there, you don't fucking leave. It's better to be one of the exploding tentacle monsters we keep in the cells. Look, just become a jester, wear the stupid bloody hat, and then in three months I'll get you out of this department for good. You can go back to running around with those gay nazi cowboys, shooting people and blowing up buildings or whatever you do for fun.
MORAN: Fine, fine, I'll become a fucking jester. Only because it gets me out of your filthy office.
PRITCHARD: See, you're seeing the perks already. Who knows, you might even find evidence that the Foundation employs cleaners.
MORAN: Yeah, yeah, I'll send you a postcard.
[Door closing]
ZHANG: I'm sorry, sorry, excuse me. Is this sort of language really considered acceptable?
KHANDAN: I've heard worse.
MORAN: This is pretty mild for him, actually.
ZHANG: Commissioner?
OKOLWE: My opinion will be in the report.
PRITCHARD: You ever visited the RAISA offices? I reckon they put all of their vocabulary into their writing, because the only words that come out of their mouths are the four-letter ones.
ZHANG: Hm. Is it okay if I step out? Need to head topside for a smoke.
OKOLWE: Go ahead.
[ZHANG leaves]
OKOLWE: So, you become a jester, start your penance, and then Zhang requests your transfer to 188?
MORAN: Yeah, it was a godsend. I accepted pretty much straight away. It would get me away from the research head, away from this dickhead [MORAN points at PRITCHARD] and I'd only have to wear my jester uniform when I was with Andy. Well worth the 24-hour flight.
OKOLWE: Except, as we've seen, SCP-9616 didn't take too kindly to you.
MORAN: That's only because Mr. Bennett here was selective with the transcript he used. Along with misspelling my name, and breaking the standard format, he didn't include any of my follow up sessions with Andy.
BENNETT: This was a decision made for the sake of brevity and clarity. If every report included a transcript of every tiny thing—
PRITCHARD: Oh please, you only chose that one because it made Dolly look like an absolute tit. I mean, you achieved what you wanted to, good job there, but you're not fooling anyone now.
OKOLWE: So what did happen between you and SCP-9616?
MORAN: Well the second time I met Andy, I didn't bother with the whole jester thing. Turns out we actually have quite a lot in common. We're both Kiwis, we've both been shafted by the Foundation, and we absolutely despise Mr. Bennett over here. Most days we'd end up hate-watching an Adam Sandler movie together, or some crappy Italian horror film.
OKOLWE: So why were you taken off him, and then put back so quickly?
BENNETT: She cried wolf and had to beg daddy to save her.
KHANDAN: Alan, remember, you're representing the site.
BENNETT: Those two have spent this entire meeting—
KHANDAN: And there is no need to stoop to their level.
PRITCHARD: Fortunately, our department's reputation is fairly unshakable
MORAN: Difficult to shake something down from rock bottom.
OKOLWE: Dr. Moran, the question please.
MORAN: He showed me he could make more mozzies. I figured out what this could mean and tried to tell someone in containment, but they thought I was just trying to kick up a fuss for no reason.
BENNETT: Commissioner, this is clearly nonsense. Bugman discovers he can break out of here and he tells his jester? His foundation appointed jester? No, what happened is Dolly was sick of being a jester so she tried to claim she's spotted a Keter in our midst. She plants this hare-brained idea in the freak's head and to everyone's surprise it actually works.
OKOLWE: Mr. Bennett, did Dr. Moran warn you of SCP-9616's newfound ability?
BENNETT: I mean, yes, she did, but why should I have believed the jester? I don't let the Department of Foolishness tell me how to do my job. And she was acting totally irrational, she would not shut up about it. So yes, I had her taken off the Bugman whilst actual, qualified experts could assess it.
OKOLWE: And what did these experts say?
KHANDAN: We had a group of para-entomologists due to check him next week.
OKOLWE: So no expert report. And how did you end up back with SCP-9616?
MORAN: I had to ask for a favor.
AUDIO LOG
Phone of Marcus Pritchard, Director, Dept. Applied Humor, Site-139
[CALL BEGINS]
PRITCHARD: You've reached the Department of Foolishness, what cock-ups have we achieved today?
MORAN: Marcus, for once can you please just shut up and listen?
PRITCHARD: Anything for our premier employee. You know how many requests I've gotten for D.O.F certified Jesters since I sent you out?
MORAN: Look Marcus, it's about Andy — SCP-9616 — the skip they had me looking after. Turns out he's a fucking Keter.
PRITCHARD: Maybe you should be talking to someone actually important about this? That is, if you can avoid accidentally shooting them in the head.
MORAN: I tried that, okay, and that dickhead Bennett, the containment officer, blew me off. I tried to take it to his HCML, but he kicked me off 9616 and now I'm just standing here with my tits in the wind.
PRITCHARD: And you're the only one with this? All those specialists and scientists didn't notice anything off about him, all those years he's been mincing about quietly in his cell?
MORAN: No, because he'd only figured it out a week ago. He can duplicate himself, fill any space full of mozzies. He showed me, sealed one of his hands in some tupperware he stole from the common room. Then he started growing, almost filled the whole room. Completely smothered the camera. Containment didn't care, he messes with the camera all the time. But in the tupperware, they had nowhere to go, so they all got squashed into this paste until it finally cracked.
PRITCHARD: So he can crack a bit of plastic in half, big deal—
MORAN: He said it didn't hurt. Said he could do it forever. Marcus, what happens if he does it to the cell? To the humanoid containment wing? To the whole fucking site?
PRITCHARD: Dolly, even if you weren't a jester, you'd still only be a structural engineer. You don't know jack about insects or containment practices or patterns in anomalous violations of conservation of mass.
MORAN: But I am also the only person on this whole site who takes this seriously. You need to get onto the HCML, she's called Forough Khandan, and you need to get me back in with 9616, in case he tries something.
PRITCHARD: That's a decision up to the knobheads in site containment—
MORAN: Oh fuck off, this is official Department of Foolishness business that you should be able to sell to anyone.
PRITCHARD: Dolly, I have told you this until I am blue in the face. You are not security, you are not containment. You are not memetics, or parabiology, or thaumaturgy, or any of these bloody departments. You are a fucking jester, and your job is to get out there and be an idiot. The funny sort, not your usual charge of the light brigade horseshit.
MORAN: I'll expect to be back in 9616's cell within 48 hours.
[CALL ENDS]
AUDIO LOG
Phone of Marcus Pritchard, Director, Dept. Applied Humor, Site-139
[CALL BEGINS]
KHANDAN: Forough Khandan, Site-188.
PRITCHARD: Have you heard what's going on with the clown and that fucking mosquito-man cocksucker?
KHANDAN: Excuse me, who is this? Is this about Dolly Moran?
PRITCHARD: Director Pritchard, Site 139. I'm that clown's boss, and I'm telling you to get her back in with Mister Malaria. Lock her in the cell if you have to.
KHANDAN: SCP-9616 is currently pending testing and assessment, and it was the decision of its containment officer to take Moran off the case whilst that's ongoing.
PRITCHARD: Oh, bullshit. It's not ongoing, I know as well as you do that it'll take two months before the paperwork even clears.
KHANDAN: Even so, the containment officer—
PRITCHARD: Overrule him! Pull rank, threaten to rip his balls off, get old-school with it. If there is a chance that Dolly's right about him, you need someone in there keeping an eye on him. If you don't get on top of this, all of you antipodean kangaroo-shaggers might as well be abseiling down the Scarlet King's urethra into an absolute pile of piss.
KHANDAN: I don't know what Dolly's been saying about him, I've been letting Alan handle all of that. But given the logs of their previous interactions, if SCP-9616 really is dangerous, is Dolly actually going to cheer him up?
PRITCHARD: I spoke to Zhang, the therapist. She says the buzzy bastard is one of those pricks that just loves to hate. He fucking hates Dolly? Good, it'll cheer him up. And as for this rubbery gimp Alan, fuck him. Alan could be a fucking trampoline for all I care.
KHANDAN: And if I decide I trust my subordinate more than I trust the head of the idiot department?
PRITCHARD: Then, when insectoid Roger Ebert breaks out, I'll be using my level four, yes, level four — I'm still a fucking director — my fucking credentials to tell him just how to reach your safe room. And I'll make sure he rips you, and that slippery wankstain Alan, apart harder than he rips fucking Family Guy. But this is a risk mitigation exercise. Let Dolly back in, and who knows, he might even stay put long enough for those expert wankers of yours to arrive.
KHANDAN: Much as I would like to see that happen to Alan in my last moments, pretty much everyone aside from him agrees that Dolly has been good for SCP-9616. I'll consider it.
[CALL ENDS]
OKOLWE: I think all we have left is the breach itself.
BENNETT: I want to reiterate that Dolly was completely unqualified to be making the decisions that she was. I've had this position for eight years, she—
MORAN: You've worked here for eight years? And you're still only a containment officer?
BENNETT: Doing better than you, so far.
KHANDAN: The factors that go into transfers and promotions are very complicated, as you would both know.
PRITCHARD: I would suspect that in this case, there's one fairly simple factor.
OKOLWE: Please, if you are finished, we have the CCTV footage from that day to go over.
VIDEO LOG
Containment Cell of SCP-9616
[DOROTHY MORAN and SCP-9616 sit on the cell's bed. The cell's television is playing Nacho Libre (2006)]
SCP-9616: You ever heard of Theodore Sturgeon?
MORAN: Science fiction writer, right? Don't think I've read anything of his.
SCP-9616: One of the few halfway decent ones. He once said that ninety percent of everything is crud. That was the word he used. Crud.
MORAN: I can see why you like him. And by everything, you mean everything?
SCP-9616: Absolutely. Films, television, novels, songs, people, the mosquitoes that make up my body, the days of one's life. One hates to generalize, but every observation I make confirms it further. In fact, I think Sturgeon may have been too charitable.
MORAN: Yeah, this movie is fucking shit, isn't it.
SCP-9616: Please, Dolly, this isn't just about bad movies anymore. I mean, yes, if it were up to me, Jack Black would be skinned alive and turned into handbags. But this is just an outlet. A way for me to declare something to be definitively lesser than I. At the end of the day, ninety percent of us are still, just, well part of the ninety percent.
MORAN: Andy, I'm not following. Should I call Zhang?
SCP-9616: I used to stay in this room, because I would fall apart if I went outside. I actually would. Do you know how hard it is to keep myself together? All these imbecilic little creatures, all trying to fly off on their own. Much like all of you. But I've figured it out. Got a hierarchy, a system.
MORAN: Oh— Okay, do you want to go outside?
SCP-9616: Yes. Yes, I do. Step outside the cell please, Dolly.
[MORAN leaves the cell]
[SCP-9616 Begins expanding in volume.
[Large numbers of SCP-9616-A enter the cell's ventilation]
[SCP-9616 fills the cell. The camera is unable to discern any detail]
VIDEO LOG
Site-188 Humanoid containment wing A
[MORAN sprints down the central corridor]
[MORAN activates the containment breach alarm]
[BENNETT approaches MORAN]
BENNETT: Fucking Dolly Moron. I don't care what Khandan says, you two sheep shaggers are never seeing—
MORAN: He's trying to get out the vents, but when—
BENNETT: Did you even read his procedures? The vents to his cell are isolated. Or do they not let clowns like you actually read anything?
MORAN: I know, I know, just stop being a dickhead for once and listen. When he realizes that, he's going to fill up the cell, try to squeeze out or crack it open.
BENNETT: These cells are rated for — Johnson, turn that alarm off — rated for anything short of the Mariana Trench. Even if he can do that, we've got a while to figure it out. Hey, Collingwood, run and grab the bug spray.
MORAN: Fine, fine. Just shut it down
BENNETT: We will do exactly that, Moron.
[A group of guards wearing respirators assemble outside SCP-9616's containment cell]
BENNETT: Listen up, we're going to need a secondary seal created around the entrance, make sure the bugs can't escape. Either that or we flood the whole wing with DEET.
[Multiple loud banging sounds are heard]
BENNETT: The fuck?
JOHNSON: It's the freaks, Sir. Something’s got them all riled up
[Moran approaches SCP-3477-42's cell and activates the intercom]
MORAN: What's going on in there?
SCP-3477-42: It's the toilet. It started spraying water everywhere, and now there's some kind of black sludge coming out.
MORAN: The plumbing! He's in the pipes!
BENNETT: Fuck! You stay here, I'm going to lock this down.
[BENNETT leaves the containment wing]
MORAN: We can still stop this, right?
JOHNSON: Skips try to get out through the pipes all the time. We've got valves, pumps, we can empty the whole system if we need to.
MORAN: Cool, cool, okay. Are those cell doors open?
JOHNSON: Yeah, they're empty, we normally leave — oh, fuck me dead. Everyone on me!
[The cluster of personnel approach a set of three empty cells at the far end of the corridor. Water can be seen on the floor in front of the cells.]
JOHNSON: Pour it on!
[The guards begin spraying insecticide into the cells]
[A cloud of SCP-9616-A can be seen leaving the cells]
JOHNSON: We're going to need a hell of a lot more. and now they're — shit, they're in the corridor, some of them must have gotten to the vents. Dolly, get out of here. Grab a gas mask if you can, we're going to have to flood the whole place with bug spray.
VIDEO LOG
Site-188 Containment Security Control Room
BENNETT: Plumbing is locked down, he's not getting out through there.
KHANDAN: You'll need to shut down the vents as well.
BENNETT: On it. We should flood the whole wing with DEET.
KHANDAN: Are you kidding? We don't have nearly enough for that. We'll have to use VX or nitrogen. They're the only gases we store in that much bulk.
BENNETT: Let's use VX, that way people can still use gas masks. Fuck!
KHANDAN: What is it?
BENNETT: He managed to get past the valves before I closed them. Now some aren't responding, there's a bunch of pressure warnings. Fuck, a lot of pressure warnings.
[A loud bang is heard]
BENNETT: Shit, that's right on—
[A jet of thick black fluid composed of liquefied SCP-9616-A instances enters the control room from an air vent]
KHANDAN: Alright, pump the VX. The whole site. Send the warning, give everyone three minutes.
[SCP-9616-A emerge from the liquid]
BENNETT: Two minutes— Oh, shitting Christ!
[Site-wide Alarm is activated. Personnel are instructed to retrieve a gas mask from the nearest emergency locker.]
[SCP-9616-A swarm the personnel present]
[MORAN enters the room]
MORAN: Fucking nerve gas? You're going to Spetsnaz the whole site?
BENNETT: Get — ah, fucking bugs — get out of here, moron.
MORAN: Show me — give me the stupid — look, look at what he's doing. He's not thinking or targeting any more, he's just expanding.
BENNETT: We've sealed him in, it's under control.
MORAN: Exactly, you've seen how fast he can grow. He's flooding this place.
BENNETT: Two minutes and this problem will be gone—
MORAN: Along with half the staff and every single skip that needs to breathe. The humanoid wing is so full of bugs that they're almost a liquid.
KHANDAN: Yes, we've seen.
BENNETT: What are you—
[MORAN activates the site-wide plumbing evacuation sequence]
MORAN: Andy, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm giving you a way out.
BENNETT: Get away—
[MORAN punches BENNETT in the throat]
MORAN: I'm opening up the pipes. There's no water in them, and there's a big pressure differential so it will suck some of you in. Don't panic, just follow it all down to the main sewer. Then, you can get out, be free, and harass Jerry Seinfeld as much as you want.
[Multiple popping sounds are heard]
[The density of SCP-9616-A decreases significantly]
MORAN: Come on…
[No live SCP-9616-A are visible in the camera feed]
MORAN: Alright, Dr. Khandan. He's now following a very convoluted route through the pipes. You can pump whatever gases you want in there now.
KHANDAN: He's not heading to the sewers?
MORAN: He thinks he is. Better solve this before he figures it out.
OKOLWE: And how did you solve it?
KHANDAN: We kept opening and closing different valves. Used the vacuum pumps to yank him around. Kept him disoriented. Pumped in gas whenever he tried the exponential growth trick. DEET mostly, no-one wants nerve agent finding its way into their bathwater. Eventually some Para-Bios from 95 turned up and took over, and he was transferred over there 2 days after the breach.
OKOLWE: Dr. Moran, how do you justify your battery of Mr. Bennett?
MORAN: It was necessary to prevent the significant casualties that would have resulted from his handling of the breach.
PRITCHARD: And he deserved it anyway.
MORAN: That too.
BENNETT: You assaulted a fellow employee in the middle of—
KHANDAN: Don't bother, Alan.
OKOLWE: What is the current casualty count?
KHANDAN: Seven security personnel and thirty-five skips are currently under treatment for pressure-related injuries. Nine personnel had adverse reactions to the mosquito bites requiring hospitalization. But no fatalities.
OKOLWE: Pressure injuries without any asphyxiation cases?
MORAN: One of the first things I did was pump a lot of oxygen into the whole site, try and displace 9616. Many of those cells were over-pressured whilst still only half full.
OKOLWE: Thank you everyone. That's all I need from you today. I'll be following up with each of you to get testimony for the full report. I believe I have enough information to begin drafting the summary incident report. Mrs. Khandan, I will send you a draft before the end of the week. Please review it so it can be appended to the SCP file ASAP. Dr. Zhang appears not to have come back from her smoke, but I'll follow up with her as well. Director Pritchard, I don't expect I'll have any immediate need for you, but maybe you should get to know some of the staff here.
PRITCHARD: It would be my pleasure, Commissioner. May as well get something out of all the time it took to get here. Mr. Bennett, would you care to join me?
OKOLWE ENQUIRY
SCP-9616 CONTAINMENT BREACH
SELECTED EXCERPTS
FULL TRANSCRIPT AVAILABLE AT REQUEST VIA RAISA
FINAL RECOMMENDATIONS
1. Containment staff at Site-188 are to attend a three-week sensitivity training course.
2. HCML Supervisors are to be responsible for clarity and professionalism in documentation produced either by themselves or subordinates.
3. Site-188 is to hire 3 additional Sapient Anomaly Therapists before the end of 2007.
4. Personnel may be rotated to the Department of Applied Humor for a maximum of 12 months, unless appointed to a senior position.
5. Dr. Dorothy Moran is to be commended for her bravery and conduct during the breach of SCP-9616.