Cured Hams
rating: +104+x

The containment breach siren blared loudly across Site-19, with Mobile Task Forces scrambling about the building. Something was loose in the upper levels, so The Old Man had decided to ask the Plague Doctor over for dinner. Seeing as he was excited to meet the good doctor, he scrambled to hastily prepare something for him to enjoy. Since 106 knew he delighted in 'cures', he decided to quickly get to work in curing a ham for his dinner guest. In his haste, however, he forgot to give proper directions to his guest.

Fortunately, a knocking at his containment chamber door indicated the arrival of his guest. He adjusted his vest and put on his best smile.

"Well, 106, I made it… despite your directions." A hint of annoyance was present in the doctor's voice; he did not like wasting his time, especially with all the Mobile Task Forces about. The shrouded figure produced a bottle of 16th-century absinthe and presented it to his host.

"Ah, SCP-049! Welcome! I hope you're prepared for an unforgettable supper!" The Old Man moved aside to welcome him in, accepting the bottle and shutting the containment chamber door behind him. The doctor approached the dining room set 106 had laid out for the occasion, then took a seat while his host entered its pocket dimension.

The cured ham he had been preparing for the occasion was starting to secrete a black, mucus-like substance and turning a disgusting color, much like the color of the increasingly rusty walls of the pocket dimension. He gasped. "Oh, egads! My shank is ruined!" The Old Man bemoaned his circumstance, before turning to face the body of a dead D-class in the corner of the room. "But what if… I were to use those corpses and disguise them as my own cooking? Oh ho ho ho ho… delightfully devilish, 106!"

The decrepit humanoid leaned forward, extending both arms to reach for the corpse before being interrupted by 049 entering the pocket dimension.

"Uh-" The doctor started.

♪ ♪ 106 with his crazy explanations,
The good doctor's gonna need his medication,
When he hears the Old Man's lame exaggerations,
There'll be trouble in Site 19! ♪ ♪

"LAWRENCE!" the doctor exclaimed, clearly confused as to the state of things.

"SCP-049! I was just, uh, doing pushups in my pocket dimension!" He fell onto his palms, quickly performing a series of lifts with a wide smile. "Isotonic exercise! Care to join me?" He offered, still smiling despite being a bit worn out from his sudden physical activity.

"Why is the ham rusted, 106?" The doctor stared directly at their intended meal, which looked quite worse for wear.

"Uh, no! That isn't rust, it's uh, spices! Spices from the cured ham we're having! Mmm… cured hams!" 106 grinned as he got up, then rubbed his belly, attempting to entice his increasingly discontent guest. Apparently pleased with the response, 049 turned around and vacated the pocket dimension.

"Phew…" With the doctor gone, 106 got back to work on preparing a dinner out of the D-class which lay across the room.

"SCP-049, I hope you're ready for some mouth-watering sandwiches!" The Old Man announced, exiting the pocket dimension with a plate of sandwiches piled high with mystery meat carefully in hand. He laid them down on the table before his guest and took a seat across.

"I thought we were having cured hams."

"D'oh, no. I said cured man! That's what I call sandwiches!" The Old Man bluffed.

"You call sandwiches cured man?" 049 replied, incredulous.

"Yes, it's a regional dialect."

"Uh-huh. What region?"

"Oh, it's a Site-19 dialect."

"Really? Well, I've been in the Site-19 Euclid wing for years and I've never heard anyone use the phrase 'cured man.' "

"Oh, not in the Euclid wing, no, it's a Keter wing expression."

"I see."

Satisfied with his answers, the two men got to dining. The Old Man poured himself a glass of absinthe and took a drink while the Plague Doctor grabbed a sandwich and took a bite utilizing his beak mask. He paused, then opened up the sandwich to examine its contents.

"You know, these sandwiches are quite similar to the ones they have in SCP-082's containment chamber." The doctor looked at his companion, who paused his drink and shook his head.

"Oh ho ho… no, patented Lawrence sandwiches. Old family recipe!" 106 chuckled, bluffing as if his life were on the line.

"For cured man." 049 responded, leering through its mask.


"Yeah, so you call them 'cured man' despite the fact the pestilence is clearly still residing within?"

106 stammered for a moment, caught in his lies. He hadn't even taken the pestilence into account when interacting with the good doctor, what on earth was wrong with him?

"Ye- hey- you know, the- one thing I should- excuse me for one second." He got up, moving towards his pocket dimension posthaste.

"Of course." The doctor answered, going back to his sandwich.

The Old Man entered his pocket dimension, looking around in a panic. Where had he gone so wrong? He looked over at the walls of the small dimension, which were so damaged they were coming apart. They started falling faster, revealing Mr. Fish's containment chamber. The piscine-headed fellow looked on in horror, dropping his newspaper as he backed away to the opposite corner. The Old Man turned back around, entering his own chamber, he had to get the doctor out as soon as possible before the entire chamber collapsed on itself.

He yawned, stretching as he came back out. "Well, that was wonderful. A good time was had by all, I'm pooped." He encouraged his guest to leave as politely as possible.

The doctor got up, taking a look at his wrist-attached pocketwatch. "Yes, I should be-" He stopped, spotting the structure behind the pocket dimension falling and rocking the foundation of the Foundation. "Good Lord, what is happening in there!?" He exclaimed.

"Procedure 110-Montauk?" The old man bluffed, trying to come up with the most repulsive and disgusting thing no sensible person would ever be interested in witnessing.

"Uh- Procedure 110-Montauk?! At this time of year, at this time of day, in this wing of Site-19, localized entirely within your pocket dimension?!"


"May I see it?" 049 clasped his hands together in anticipation.


The two moved towards the exit of the containment chamber, and the doors came open for 049 to leave. Just as he exited, a panicked voice rang out; "Guards, help! SCP-106 is breaching containment!"

The Old Man didn't turn around, but looked over his shoulder and waved it off. "No, Mr. Fish, it's just Procedure 110-Montauk." With his dissuasion done, he turned back to 049 and the two shook hands.

"Well, Lawrence, you are an odd fellow, but I must say… Your cure is most effective.." Though his face was hidden by his mask, 106 somehow knew that his companion was smiling. The doctor turned around to leave but was suddenly stopped by Mr. Fish's panicked screams once more.

"Help! HELP!"

049 turned again but was convinced all was well by a thumbs up from 106. Again, he turned away and continued on his merry way as the Site-19 containment breach alarm blared in the distance.

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