rating: +60+x

Item #: SCP-1851-J

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1851-J is to remain secured behind a 1 km perimeter under the pretext of environmental preservation with a staff of guards posted at Station 1851-J-Zeta. Scientific staff are to monitor SCP-1851-J's population daily for spikes or declines.

A public "Shame on Fibbers" disinformation campaign is to be undertaken to minimize the anomalous effects of SCP-1851-J. The local Foundation communications station, operating under the front of the Salmon, Carp, and Pike Fish Hatchery, is to remain in daily contact with personnel at Station-1851-Zeta.

Description: SCP-1851-J is a freshwater lake in the remote forest of [REDACTED] in the European country Cz[REDACTED]slovakia. SCP-1851-J is nearly circular in shape and has a diameter of roughly 2 km. It is teeming with large fish which appear to be non-anomalous other than some being saltwater fish who nonetheless survive in the freshwater environment. To the uninformed observer, it may appear that an improbable number of fish are leaping from the lake at all times.

SCP-1851-J's anomalous property is activated when any person misrepresents, tells a half-truth, or lies about the size of a fish that they nearly caught on a fishing trip. A fish corresponding to the description will appear instantaneously about 3 meters above SCP-1851-J. Most fish in the lake are about 1.75 meters in length, corresponding to the length of an average-sized male's outstretched arms.

SCP-1851-J's anomalous effects were discovered after an initial research team investigated the lake and collected several wildlife samples. Dr. ████ claimed before other researchers and locals in a village pub to have just been fishing and nearly caught a fish "the size of a VW Beetle." As he said this, the secondary team of researchers watched as such a fish materialized in the air above the surface of the lake and dropped into the water with a significant splash, capsizing the research canoe.

Fish-producing lies must be genuine. A researcher who is aware of the anomaly, for instance, cannot say "I almost caught a fish this big [outstretched arms] made of solid gold" and expect such a fish to materialize in SCP-1851-J. This serves as a reminder to researchers that not everything runs on SCP-261 rules, and you should not be thinking of anomalies as slot machines in the first place.

Whales, dolphins, and other aquatic mammals do not appear to be subject to the anomaly. Sharks, however, are; accordingly, it is imperative that knowledge of SCP-1851-J's effects does not reach certain GoIs.

Examination of water samples indicates a high concentration of plankton, kelp, and other detritus that the fish would feed on, meaning the ecosystem scales with the increasing population. The leading theory is that fish "lie" about their food acquisitions in a manner similar to human fishermen, leading to an appropriately sufficient level of sustenance in SCP-1851-J. Researchers have thus concluded that all fish are liars.

UPDATE: Researcher ██████'s proposal to use SCP-1851-J to feed SCP-2875 has been rejected. O-5 comments on the proposal ranged from "why would we want to encourage a bunch of hungry fucking bears?" to "why would we compromise our favorite fishing spot like that?"

Personnel exposed to SCP-1851-J for long amounts of time begin noticing deterioration in their thought patterns, as well as seeing and herring things. This may be a codnitohazard, but may reely be rogue researchers acting on porpoise, sowing discord for the halibut. Further investigation is required to quell the trouts of senior staff.

Offishoals should be notified of drastic changes in wildlife behavior or ecological composition. In short: if you sea some fin, say some fin.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License