Foreword: This expedition was performed on 12/11/2021 by Agent Lowe and Agent Kroemer. They were chosen due to their experience in the Department of Extraversal Affairs and their exceptional work concerning dimensional rifts. To avoid suspicion, both agents wore plain clothes, only carried standard issue sidearms, and were equipped with hidden microphones and cameras.
Agent Lowe and Kroemer approach the entrance to SCP-6108 and are immediately greeted by a young Caucasian female staff member. Her name badge identifies her as "Charlotte".
Charlotte: Welcome to Schlemo's Wholesale. Your Member's Card, please!
Agent Lowe: We actually don't have a membership with your store…
Charlotte lets out an exasperated sigh and snaps her fingers, three other staff arriving from around the corner shortly thereafter.
Charlotte: You heard him, they don't have cards. You know what to do.
All four staff members break out into song, the lyrics revolving mainly around what makes Schlemo's Wholesale great and why the agents should get a membership card. This lasts roughly 10 minutes and has been omitted from the records for sake of brevity.
Agent Lowe: Was all of that really necessary?
Agent Kroemer: I mean, I thought it was great.
Charlotte: I don't make the rules, dude.
Agent Kroemer: And who does?
The store-wide intercom system suddenly turns on, transmitting a string of gibberish and mumbles. However, it is somehow completely understood by those that hear it.
SCP-6108-1: That'd be me, Schlemo! At your service! Wait, hold on. Didn't I just talk to you two? Which universe is this?
Agent Lowe: How are we supposed to know that?
SCP-6108-1: How do you not know your own universe?! That's like not knowing your home address! Hold on, let me check this real quick.
The sounds of papers being flipped through and books being dropped emits from the loudspeakers before SCP-6108-1 speaks again.
SCP-6108-1: Alright, my mistake! That was a Lowe and Kroemer from the one right next door. Weird timing, right? I mean, alternate versions of you just found my store too! You're both a little chubbier than them, though. Especially you, Kroemer.
Agent Kroemer: Hey!
Agent Lowe: Can we get back to your why we're here, please? If you met us already, then you'd know we're here to investigate the premises. We need to know more about this place.
SCP-6108-1: Sounds like I'll have to give you the same spiel I gave them. Follow Miss Charlotte, please.
Charlotte motions for both agents to follow her before heading further into the store. The layout of the store appears to be much like wholesale retailers of this reality, products stacked on pallets in rows of large metallic shelves or in rows near the center of the facility. There appears to be no other shoppers, only idle employees cleaning their respective sections.
Agent Kroemer: Y'know, this place reminds me alot of Costco.
Every employee in the vicinity, including Charlotte, stops in their tracks and looks at Agent Kroemer with appalled expressions. SCP-6108-1 goes quiet for a few moments.
Charlotte: Here we go…
SCP-6108-1's voice becomes noticeably louder as the microphone is presumably pressed closer to his mouth.
SCP-6108-1: What the fuck did you just say?
Agent Kroemer: N-nothing! Just that, y'know, the store kind of reminds me of…well…Costco…
SCP-6108-1: DON'T EVER BRING UP THAT PLACE HERE! SOL PRICE IS A TALENTLESS HACK THAT RAN OFF WITH MY IDEAS TO START HIS OWN STORES!
Agent Lowe: Wait, hold on a minute. Are you saying that Price Club, and by extension Costco, were created by a dimension-hopping Sol Price?
SCP-6108-1: They sure as hell are! Sol Price used to work for me before he decided to steal my idea and skip town! Now he jumps around to new realities, telling his counterparts the virtues of wholesale retail. Do you know how many Sol Prices out there in the Multiverse haven't founded Price Club? Zilch!
Agent Lowe: Sorry if my colleague offended you. Mind if we continue the tour?
SCP-6108-1: Yes, yes of course. Apologies, I get a bit heated when that place is brought up. Moving on, you can see on your left our jewelry section. Every gem is ethically sourced from deceased treasure hunters and Bakaran Blood Mines.
Agent Lowe: Who's…that?
Agent Lowe points towards a large-headed, blue, humanoid extraterrestrial posing nude near one of the display cases. They are covered in jewelry from head to toe, to the point that they are visibly struggling to keep their mannequin-esque pose under the weight of the decorations.
SCP-6108-1: That's our jewelry stand, Harry. Isn't he great? Hardly any moving at all and there's like, at least ten pounds of jewelry there.
Harry: Schlemo can I-
SCP-6108-1: Mannequins don't talk Harry, silly goose! Moving onto the next section.
Harry silently mouths "Help Me" to both agents as they are escorted past him.
Agent Kroemer: That seems a bit…unethical, right?
SCP-6108-1: Don't be a worrywart, Kroemer! We're paying him, aren't we?
SCP-6108-1 momentarily speaks to someone away from the microphone.
SCP-6108-1: We are paying him, right? Oh good. Nice.
SCP-6108-1: Next is our hardlines, section! This is where we stock all of our electronics, home goods, and other stuff that isn't food! Feel free to take a look around.
Agent Lowe approaches a large metal tube, which has a single circular opening near the top. The label above it reads, "Grom's Soul Sucker"
Agent Lowe: Hey, Schlemo, what's the deal with this-
Agent Lowe suddenly collapses mid-sentence as the opening in the metal tube begins sucking in what can only be described as his spirit. His horrified apparition is halfway into the machine when Charlotte steps forward and switches it off, sending Agent Lowe's soul back into his body.
Agent Kroemer: Holy fuck! Lowe, you alright?! That thing was sucking up your soul, man!
Agent Lowe: Cough. Cough. Yea, I know Kroemer. I was there. Mind explaining why I almost got ghostbustered, Schlemo?
SCP-6108-1: Apologies! Employees are supposed to turn off the appliances before they put them on the shelves. Who's in charge of Hardlines right now? Tom, right?
A terrified scream can be heard from one aisle over as a rift in space opens up overhead, sucking up a human staff member.
SCP-6108-1: No pay for a week and an hour in the Hell Dimension should teach him not to leave the appliances on, that little rascal.
Agent Kroemer: Again, that seems a bit unethical.
SCP-6108-1: Oh he'll be fine! He doesn't need to run faster than the demons, just the last employee I sent there! Anyways, let's move onto our Bakery and Meat departments!
The agents are led to the rear section of the building. Upon reaching the Bakery, both agents begin to smell something exceptionally delicious.
Agent Lowe: Schlemo, what's that smell? I've never smelled anything like it. It's…
Agent Kroemer: Delicious!
SCP-6108-1: That's our signature pies, a homemade recipe passed down the Schlemo genus. Charlotte, take one out for our guests so they can have a sample, please.
Charlotte enters the bakery for a few moments before returning with a pie contained in a plastic case. As she gets closer to the agents, they both notice something strange with the dish.
Agent Lowe: Kroemer, please tell me you also see the face in the pie. Tell me I'm not crazy.
Pie: Eat me. Absorb me.
Agent Kroemer: Either you're not crazy or we both are.
SCP-6108-1: I know, I know. Humes aren't used to our sentient flour recipe. Trust me though, once you get pass the pie's masochist desire to be devoured, it's the best damn pie you'll ever eat.
Agent Lowe: Any chance we can just go to the foods section now? Think I'm fine with skipping the meat department.
SCP-6108-1: Fine, fine. You'll miss out on our newest addition, the Lincoln Steak, but whatever.
Agent Kroemer: What's the-
Agent Lowe: Probably better not to ask.
The group is led next to the foods section, specifically the aisle containing various different types of cereals and oats. Some are resident to this reality whilst others have names inscribed in alien languages.
Agent Kroemer: Finally, a normal looking section. There's no way you can make cereal anom-
A series of small cries for help emanate from a nearby box labeled "Cazbo's". The box shakes and for a moment appears as if it will fall over the edge of the shelf before Charlotte pushes it back.
Agent Lowe: Schlemo….
SCP-6108-1: Don't tell me you guys don't have Cazbo's in your reality. It's only the most popular cereal in our store.
Agent Kroemer: Not even the cereal was spared from the weirdness.
Agent Lowe: I'll assume that the rest of the food aisle is about the same. How about the pharmacy, Schlemo?
SCP-6108-1: Such a bore. Go ahead and take them to our pharmaceuticals, Charlotte.
The agents are led past the rest of the food aisles, which appear to be stocked with a mixture of normal foods and extraversal packages. The pharmaceuticals section, surprisingly, appears much the same as its counterparts in normal wholesale retailers.
Agent Kroemer: This seems normal. Way too normal. What's the catch here, Schlemo?
SCP-6108-1: Catch? Why does there have to be a catch? It's all normal medications. Go on, pick up any bottle and see for yourself.
Agent Lowe approaches one of the counters and picks up a small pill bottle. It reads "Schlemo's Skin Remover."
SCP-6108-1: Okay, I know some humans don't shed but you can't act like it's the same for all of you across every dimension. We also have to think of our reptilian guests, y'know.
Agent Lowe: I think that's enough for now. We should probably be taking our leave.
SCP-6108-1: Ah c'mon, don't be like that! Hold on, just one last place. Our food court is pretty famous across the Multiverse. You have to take a look at our menu.
Agent Kroemer: One last place couldn't hurt, right Lowe?
Agent Lowe: Fine, show us.
Charlotte leads both agents to the corner of the building across from the entrance. A small food court lays before them, a menu hanging over a line of registers. The menu only has a single item, "Chorizo Stew."
Agent Kroemer: You'd think there'd be more for a extra-dimensional store…
SCP-6108-1: You're only saying that because you don't know how good the Chorizo Stew is. Here, let's get you both some samples. CONSUELO! BRING THESE NICE GENTLEMEN SOME CHORIZO STEW!
A series of alien screeches and gurgles emanates loudly from the kitchen behind the registers.
SCP-6108-1: What do you mean 'It's still cooking'?! You've been cooking it for six years, damn it!
Agent Lowe: Kroemer, I think we've seen enough.
[End Log]