rating: +72+x

by Elunerazim


An instance of SCP-5348 ordered at Ambrose SanFran

Item #: SCP-5348

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: Any instances of SCP-5348 obtained are to be sufficiently diluted and disposed of under non-anomalous refuse or composting procedures. Undercover agents may dispose of SCP-5348 instances via consumption or other non-standard forms at their own discretion.

Any documentation regarding SCP-5348 outside of Foundation custody are to be destroyed or confiscated. A copy of the recipe for SCP-5348, as written in Ambrosia,1 is currently stored as Document 5348.2 at the Site-15 non-anomalous Document Storage Wing.

Description: SCP-5348 is a soup entrée produced by Ambrose Restaurants, listed on the menu as "Mama Ambrose's Creamy Mushroom Bisque". Appearing similar to a traditional cream of mushroom soup, SCP-5348 consists primarily of goat cream and grated chanterelle mushrooms.

When consumed, SCP-5348 causes feelings of warmth, relaxation, and other sensations generally considered "comforting". The amount eaten to trigger this effect varies for each individual, though it has been shown to be around one half of the serving size described in Ambrosia (1±.23 liters)

When measured with a handheld EMF meter, SCP-5348 releases a constant wave of 11.9 mG, though no further magnetic effects have been found.

Addendum 1:
The following letters were discovered in a drawer in a raided Ambrose Restaurants location.

Dear Charlie,

I know you're doing your own thing with the magic stuff, and I know I haven't exactly been supportive, and I'm sorry. You have every right to be mad at me, but please… come visit Mom when you get a chance. She's not doing well, and I don't know how much longer she has. I'm sure you're busy, but this could be the last time, and

I don't know. Please just come home.

Your bro,

Mom says thanks for the casserole you sent. It smelled beyond horrible, but I think she was happy enough to hear from you that she ate it anyway. I don't know if it was because it was magic or just awful, but it stunk up the whole damn hospice, and the nurses still give me dirty looks. She seemed to perk up a bit, I guess.

Look, man: She appreciated it, but just show up. Half an hour, that's all it'll take to make her day, okay?



I know what you're doing. Every time you send food it has that same awful smell. I had the staff sanitize the whole room, but it still stinks like the shit you shake out of a lawnmower bag.

Every time you send another tin of cookies or fruit medley or whatever the fuck it is you're feeding her, she gets a little better for a while. A little stronger.

And then she gets worse. Whatever you're giving her isn't working, Chaz. Stop with the goddamn enchanted chicken nuggets and visit your goddamn mother while you still can.


She died last night. She kept asking where you were.

I hope you're happy, you piece of shit.

On top of these letters was an unaddressed envelope, attached below.

She would have wanted it this way.

A copy of Document 2 was attached.

Document 2: Excerpt from Ambrosia

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