Notice from the Records and Information Security Administration
Due to a shortage of available writing staff, the creation of this file has been outsourced to Tom Waits.
Item #: SCP-1949-J
Object Class: Blended Scotch
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1949-J is kept perpetually in the backseat of a '73 Oldsmobile. Rest assured, he ain't goin' nowhere, not with that immovable chromium checkerboard stretchin' across the interstate from Old Wounds to Indianapolis. Hop. Hop. … King me.
Still, his enclosure is guarded by a Puerto Rican violinist with eyes the color of a bakelite ashtray. They melt in the rain, y'know. … That's the bakelite, not the Puerto Ricans. Hell, the last time I went to San Juan, it rained for forty days and forty nights. Didn't even need no ark, just two of every daiquiri.
If the odometer connected to his liver ever displays a number higher than Bad Dreams, O5 Command is to be notified immediately of an impending LAK-Class "How dare you make me remember that one blonde in Loozey-anna with the crooked smile and that tattoo of a harlequin on her neck. Best ten bucks I ever spent, adjusted for inflation" scenario. It ain't dangerous or nothin', but it's nice to know. (She's in a nursin' home in Mobile, by the way. Real hard work to get there in your forties, but the court jester didn't raise no quitter.)
A fistful of cigarette butts has been provided in his enclosure. For enrichment.
Description: SCP-1949-J is a one-winged horsefly with a gun. His name's spelled Larry, but it's pronounced like this. Don't ask him why he only got one wing. I already did. He said it was back in '68, he was doin' his horsefly thing and up and bit Little Billy on the tip of his nose. Turns out Billy had some re-flexes. And some tweezers. And a checklist for all the neurological warning signs he had to hit before ten if he wanted a good reason to skip school.
Billy died twenty years later. No, no, SCP-1949-J didn't kill him. I did. He cornered me with a knife. But that's only because I was already cornerin' him with a knife. Never could understand how we was cornerin' each other. That bathroom stall we were in musta flunked geometry a couple times.
…Oh, right, you're probably wonderin' how SCP-1949-J is anomalous. It's 'cause he ain't never seen the Sun set. Chronic bad timin'. That, or maybe he thinks nothin's ever gonna end if he don't see the ending for himself.
…
Also, he breathes fire or somethin'. Zooba zee.