Item #: SCP-999
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-999 is allowed to freely roam the facility should it desire to, but otherwise must stay in its pen. Subject is not allowed out of its pen at night or off facility grounds at any time. Pen is to be kept clean and food replaced twice daily. All personnel are allowed inside SCP-999’s holding area, but only if they are not assigned to other tasks at the time, or if they are on break. Subject is to be played with when bored and spoken to in a calm, non-threatening tone.
Description: SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 54 kg (120 lbs) with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject’s size and shape constantly change, though most of the time its form is the size of a large beanbag chair. Composition of SCP-999 is oil-based, but consists of a substance unknown to modern science. Other than a thin, transparent membrane surrounding the orange mass, subject appears to have no organs to speak of.
Subject’s temperament is best described as playful and dog-like: when approached, SCP-999 will react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, “hugging” them with a pair of pseudopods while nuzzling the person’s face with a third pseudopod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor that differs with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh™.
Simply touching SCP-999’s surface causes an immediate euphoria, which intensifies the longer one is exposed to SCP-999, and lasts long after separation from the creature. Subject’s favorite activity is tickle-wrestling, often by completely enveloping a person from the neck down and tickling them until asked to stop (though it does not always comply with this request).
While the creature will interact with anyone, it seems to have a special interest in those who are unhappy or hurt in any way. Persons suffering from crippling depression, after interacting with SCP-999, have returned completely cured with a very positive outlook on life. The possibility of marketing SCP-999’s slime as an antidepressant has been discussed.
In addition to its playful behavior, SCP-999 seems to love all animals (especially humans), refusing to eat any meat and even risking its own life to save others, even leaping in front of a person to take a bullet fired at them (subject’s intellect is still up for debate: though its behavior is infantile, it seems to understand human speech and most modern technology, including guns). The creature’s diet consists entirely of candy and sweets, with M&M’s™ and Necco™ wafers being its favorites. Its eating methods are similar to those of an amoeba.
Addendum SCP-999-A: The following is a report from an experiment in which SCP-682 is exposed to SCP-999 in the hopes that it will curb the creature’s omnicidal rage.
SCP-999 is released into SCP-682’s containment area. SCP-999 immediately slithers towards SCP-682.
999: (elated gurgles)
682: (unintelligible groans, growling) What is that?
SCP-999 moves in front of SCP-682, jumping up and down in a dog-like manner while calling out in a high-pitched squealing noise.
682: (groans) Disgusting…
SCP-682 immediately steps on SCP-999, completely flattening SCP-999. Observers were about to abort the experiment when SCP-682 started talking again.
682: (grunts) Hmmm? (unintelligible) what is this… (low noise, similar to light chuckle) I feel all… tingly inside…
SCP-999 can be seen crawling up from between SCP-682’s toes, up along its side and around its neck, where it clings on and begins gently nuzzling with its pseudopod. A wide grin slowly spreads across SCP-682’s face.
682: (deep chuckling) I feel… so… happy. Happy… (laughs) happy… happy…
SCP-682 repeats the word “happy” for several minutes, laughing occasionally before escalating into nonstop laughter. As laughter continues, SCP-682 rolls around on its back, slamming its tail upon the floor with dangerous force.
682: (bellowing laughter) Stop! No tickling! (continues laughing)
SCP-682 and SCP-999 continue the “tickle fight” until SCP-682 finally wears down and appears to fall asleep with what would appear to be a smile on its face. After fifteen minutes with no activity, two D-Class personnel enter the room to retrieve SCP-999. When SCP-999 is removed, SCP-682 immediately wakes up and unleashes an unidentifiable wave of energy from its body, all the while laughing maniacally.
All persons within the wave’s range collapse into crippling fits of laughter, allowing SCP-682 to escape and slaughter all in its path. Meanwhile, SCP-999 quickly rescues as many persons as it can, taking them to a safe place to recover from SCP-682’s "laughter wave" while agents suppress and recontain SCP-682.
Despite the tragedy that SCP-682 had brought upon the facility, SCP-999 has not shown any fear towards the creature and in fact has made gestures suggesting it wants to “play” with SCP-682 again. SCP-682, however, has stated, “That feculent little snot wad can [DATA EXPUNGED] and die."
Memo from Dr. ████: “While the test was unsuccessful and ended in tragedy, that had to be the funniest thing I have ever seen. I never thought I’d see the day when I would regard SCP-682 as “cute”. Please send me a copy of the security tapes ASAP.”