rating: +122+x

Item #: SCP-343-J

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Due to SCP-343-J's method of relocation, long-term containment is not possible at this time. In order to minimize and/or isolate the area of active teleportation events, the former recreational wing of Site-591 has been converted into Debate Hall-343. Containment staff placed at DH-343 are to have scored at least a "Three-Alarm Habanero" on the Standard Dogmatic Spiciness Exam in either atheism or an Abrahamic faith. In the event that the latter demographic is unavailable in Foundation staff, Site Director Naismith has volunteered his grandmother to fill the role of at least 30 researchers. Staff are to debate the existence of God, the afterlife, and evolution at all times.

Outside of DH-343, all Foundation staff are advised to keep their fucking arguments to themfuckingselves during work hours for realsies. However, in the event that SCP-343-J is encountered outside of DH-343, it is to be told "I never thought about it that way" and/or "you are very intelligent" until it dematerializes.

Description: SCP-343-J is an opened, 284 mL aluminum soup can containing 13 common earthworms2. SCP-343-J appears to operate as a single, sapient organism, capable of high-pitched, nasal speech.

In addition, SCP-343-J is able to teleport from one location to another. The range or extent of this ability is unknown at this time. SCP-343-J uses this ability to offer its unauthorized contributions to religious debates anything that could potentially be redirected into a religious debate. As such, SCP-343-J has lowered Foundation morale averages by a factor of 59 since its discovery in 2013.


Date: 3/17/14, 12:49 GMT

<begin log>

Dr. Henderson: The cafeteria food here can go straight to hell.

Dr. Naismith: I dunno, this barbecue sauce is on point.

[SCP-343-J materializes on the cafeteria table]

SCP-343-J: Excuse me! Excuse me!

Dr. Henderson: The sauce, yeah, but the meat tastes like styrofoam. Probably is styrofoam, now that I think about— are those worms?

SCP-343-J: Hell doesn't exist.

Dr. Naismith: He means the food is bad, not that it could literally go to—

SCP-343-J: Nope, nope, can't go to hell, hell doesn't exist, heaven doesn't either, no scientific evidence, God doesn't exist, evolution is real, the fact that you would wish eternal damnation on anyone speaks volumes about whether or not you're a good person. Those are facts. I don't make the rules.

Dr. Naismith: We're trying to have lunch here.

SCP-343-J: Yeah, that's great and all, but you're not offering any counter-argument, so, like, are you just going on faith? Because I'm pretty sure you're a grown-ass man and shouldn't believe in fairy tales, just sayin'. I'm sure you have fun with your invisible sky homophobe and worship a zombie on a cross, but I've read all the Hitchhiker's Guide books, embrace reason and logic, and enjoy life a couple gazillion times more than you ever will, nothing personal.

Dr. Naismith: I'm an agnostic, I don't— [sigh] look, can you please just let us eat?

SCP-343-J: Woah, hey now, censorship, can't speak my mind, can't expose the truth destroy people's illusions or you'll have me stoned to death! Is that how you "love thy neighbor"? I know what a Higgs Boson is.

Dr. Henderson: 12:55. We better get back to work.

Dr. Naismith: Oh, thank god.

SCP-343-J: Did you seriously just thank a fictional fucki[redacted for brevity]

<end log>

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