James strode in to a round of applause, accompanied by 329 in his telekinetic Gopher mobility scooter.
“Great work on the Site-47 breach, Jimmy!” “I heard you really gave it to ‘em!” “The bastards never saw it coming, nice to see you came through!” “Generic compliment, guys! SCP-329, will you be the father of my children?”
“Only if you wear a ruuuubbeeeeeer…” “But-“
“JAMES! 329! GET YOUR ASSES IN MY OFFICE!”
Clef, chief of the Researchers-what-can-also-do-Security Force, had had it out for them after they had screwed up the 999-J operation, who ended up in his bed the next evening (”I had to buy a new bed! The pillows were stuffed with chest hair, corn chips and damned-if-I-know what else!”) Before either of them could protest, he had strode back into the other room and slammed the door.
After a few hand-shakes, back-claps, and consolations, they resigned to go talk to Clef.
“Don’t worry guys. He’s always on about something.” Their contemporary, Agent Jackson, was always the good-natured foil to their shenanigans.
“We should eeeeaaaaat somethiiiiing fiiiiiiirst.”
“You can’t eat, you’re a sign.” “A ghooooost siiiiiiign.”
“We’re both gonna be ghosts if we don’t get back there.”
“Let’s get some cooooooffeee fiiiiirst. Then we can outsmart hiiiiiim.”
Four poorly planned exchanges later, James and the Ghost Sign tapped the door to Clef’s office. “It’s open.”
The two entered, neither of them actually worried about what would ensue.
“Is the paperwork for the 019 breach done?”
“Noooooo, but we can outsmaaaaart yooooouuuuu, so yeeeeeesssssss.”
“What? Why the hell does he have coffee?”
“Look, Doctor, we started it on the flight back, but I couldn’t get it finished because of customs.”
“I don’t give a damn why! You didn’t even solve the breach! That idiot did!” “I was able to beeeaaaaat them with ghooooooost kaaaaaaaarateeeeeeeeee.”
“THREE PEOPLE DIED AFTER YOU GOT THERE!” “I was able to beeeaaaaat them with ghooooooost kaaaaaaaarateeeeeeeeee.”
“YOU TWO ARE LOOSE CANNONS! I’LL HAVE YOUR ASSES IF YOU PULL THIS AGAIN!”
“Then I’d beeeeee a Buuuuuuuuutt Ghost Siiiiiiiiiign.”
“Damn it, I don’t have time for this. Speaking of the Butt Ghost, you’re both being put on 789 security until I speak to you again. You get to see your old friend, Jimmy!” “Chief!” “I don’t wanna hear it! You’ve got nothing better to do. The last time I let you two to yourselves, Dr. Gerald ended up on a Segway tour!”
“We needed a third hand to go undercover and see if the C.I. was up to anything! We stopped them before-“ “GHOOOOOOOST SIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGN.”
Clef and James looked for a moment. 329 was wearing a fake beard, but nothing was actually wrong. Clef rubbed the bridge of his nose and started again.
“Look. I just need somebody to review security on some of the older containment procedures. I know it’s been awhile, but you put the Butt Ghost away, and damned if you didn’t do a good job. And Ghost Sign is the leading expert on all things ghost-oriented. That thesis he turned in on extranormal budding habits of semi-inanimate objects really caught the eyes of some higher ups. I need you two on this, just until something else comes up.”
James nodded, and the Ghost Sign no longer wore the beard.
“Alright chief. We’ll get that paperwork for you.”
“I said we already diiiiiiiiiid iiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”
