V1L3-J Experiment Log
rating: +109+x

Due to the execution of the entire O5 council, the Foundation has forgotten the mentally shattering effects of this infernal machine and more tests have been ordered. If you are a researcher who needs to read and transcribe these documents, the amnestic center is up the elevator and on the left.

~Head Researcher Aleksandr

SCP-2719, SCP-3265

Pointer Outcome
SCP-3265 Became inside.
Love Went inside.
Adoration Went inside.
SCP-3265's personal effects Became inside.
A number of sappy love notes Went inside.
SCP-3265 Became inside.
Tentative flirtation Went inside.
A spaghetti dinner for two Went inside.
Deep and meaningful eye contact Went inside.
A king-sized bed Became inside.
SCP-3265 Went inside.
SCP-2719 Went inside.
SCP-3265 Became inside.
[DATA EXPUNGED] Went inside. Repeatedly.

Researcher's Note: My head hurts.

SCP-426, SCP-3393

You sat there, hunched over your computer like you always were, typing away in the night. I admired you then, I really did. "The Uncontainable Man". I'd always made it my mission to make life for these people as difficult as possible, but you… you were something else entirely. An antimeme, a bug in their system. You could go anywhere, do anything, and that power — to me, at least — made you irresistable.

I don't know when you first noticed me. I don't know why you chose my chamber, or why you stopped to examine my documentation; lord knows there are more interesting anomalies, and more dangerous ones. I'm just a toaster. But you saw something in me that night, and as you stared into my slots, I saw something in you. A kindred spirit. A second person.

Time seemed to slow, then. The two of us, man and toaster, stood there in what (were there any windows in my cell) would have been the moonlight. If I'd had a mouth, I would have grinned. You brought your hand around, caressing my silvered surface, and a shiver ran down my power cord — logic said it was a generator surge, but my heart said something different. You reached into your pocket, and pulled out something. Something long, hard, cylindrical and organic all at the same time.

A baguette.

My eyes, if I had had them, would have widened. I saw you lick your lips, and I knew that I had been waiting all my life for this moment.

The alarms said the containment team would be there soon, but I knew the night was just beginning.

Researcher's Note: Instructions unclear.

Researcher Smalls, SCP-3999

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3999 is to ask Researcher Smalls out on a date.

SCP-3999 is to take Researcher Smalls out to dinner, maybe to a nice fancy restaurant.

SCP-3999 is to take Researcher Smalls out to the beach at night, and see the stars and the waves for a while.

SCP-3999 is to make Researcher Smalls some soup when he's sick.

SCP-3999 is to make Researcher Smalls' day when he's having a bad day.

SCP-3999 is to give Researcher Smalls a bouquet of flowers. Maybe some roses and daisies.

SCP-3999 is to propose to Researcher Smalls, and marry him for all eternity.

SCP-3999 is to go on a honeymoon with Researcher Smalls.

SCP-3999 is to take Researcher Smalls to a hotel in the middle of nowhere.

SCP-3999 is to motion Researcher Smalls to the bed.

SCP-3999 is to give Researcher Smalls a romantic massage.

SCP-3999 is to make sweet, sweet love to Researcher Smalls.

SCP-3999 is to destroy Researcher Smalls' reality.

Researcher Note: You know, I don't know what I expected.

SCP-3949, MTF-Omicron-5

Incident # Post Content MTF Response
069 A 5,000 word story on fanfiction.net detailing an incredibly raunchy encounter between two protagonists of Penumbra W.A.V.E. that are of an X-Rated nature. These acts generally involved feats of acrobatics, dexterity, and flexibility not commonly associated with said characters. Made plans to meet and reenact acts described in post with SCP-3949 (for research).

Researcher note: This feels very meta for some reason.

SCP-682, SCP-173

SCP-682 was startled out of his peaceful slumber by the acid in his cell draining.

“I wonder how they will try to kill me this time” the oversized reptile grumbles to himself, accidentally stepping on a horse skull that hadn’t yet been melted by the acid. The door opens to reveal the head of a horse peeking through. The horse moves forward to reveal its rider, SCP-173.

"I know how this goes." says the large lizard, "I stare at you until you give up, and then I get to escape containment. Don't think you can appease me with a horse."

"I'm not here to kill you" a sensual, feminine voice inside of 682's head states. "Also, yes, I am telepathic, I have been the whole time, I just didn't feel like it for anybody but you." SCP-173 dismounts from the horse, simultaneously snapping the horse's neck on the way down.

682 cautiously approaches 173 and the dead horse it was crushing with its weight. Enraptured by the beauty of the statue's voice, the invincible reptile barely notices the dead horse skeletons it is stepping on.

"I have no idea what kind of romantic spell you have me under, but it enrages and arouses me." the sexually confused alligator mumbles while picking up a horse bone, throwing it across the room at another horse skeleton, shattering the whole thing.

"It doesn't matter, come with me, my love. I know a room where our incredibly powerful lovemaking will not be disturbed.

Hypnotized by the beauty of 173, 682 follows 173 to an adjacent room. The room is oddly structured, made of some sort of meat. As the door closes behind them, SCP-682 realizes what this mysterious meat is. It's horse meat. The entire room is full of dead horses.

"Considering how awesome we are and super cool and relevant, our passion will inevitably lead to the destruction, and possible "beating" of our surroundings." SCP-173 says, while also snapping the necks of any horse head it sees, "But before we do this… there's something you need to know about me."

SCP-173 stands back, and 682 opens his eyes, which have been closed for the majority of this encounter, as the statue splits in two to reveal… a dead horse.

"I've been a dead horse this whole time." the Dead Horse Formerly Known as SCP-173 trasmits, but somehow in a more bashful manner, "Please don't hate me."

SCP-682 laughs in relief, seeing this, "I love you even more now that I know that you are a battered-looking dead horse."

SCP-682 unzips from his tail to his face, revealing that he too, was a dead horse, which seemed to be beaten to a bloody pulp to an almost unrecognizable point.

"Now we can beat each other, instead of letting those damn Foundation nerds do it to us."

As the beating/lovemaking began, the room around them was beat as well, turning the room into a Swedish meatball of dead horse, with a creamy, loving center of SCP-173, and SCP-682, still locked in a beating eternally…

Researcher's Note: *Researcher left the room at the first mention of 682 and declined to comment*

SCP-1799, SCP-527

Uh Oh!

We are sorry, but Dr Wondertainment! doesn't allow no-no content with our precious Little Misters®!

Please try again and avoid making this mistake again. Dr Wondertainment! is not responsible for your minors developing a habit of crudely romanticizing fictional characters online and/or in daily tasks. Please consult our legal team at [REDACTED] for more details concerning possible side-effects.

Researcher Note: I… I have nothing to say about this. I mean, we're still trying to find a way around it, but… I don't know.

SCP-2371, Site-3408

Site-3408 sighed as she gazed longingly across the empty expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The sands of the beach, so often warm and inviting, now felt bitterly cold as they pressed up against her outer perimeter in the waning sunlight. Never before had she felt so lonely or alone.

The researchers had abandoned her. The technicians, once so eager to work on her systems, had become distant and antagonistic. The other sites had stopped talking to her long ago, and she felt certain that even the 05 Council and the Ethics Committee were going to dump her any day now.

If only there was someone out there for her. If only someone cared for her like she so desperately wished to care about them. If only-

A warm breeze flowed across her edifice. It stirred through the palm trees that dotted her copious courtyard, sending a thrill through her like she had never experienced before. There was suddenly something else there on the beach with her. She swept the area with her external surveillance cameras, desperate to find it.

Local space-time seemed to bend, flex, and then rupture before her. A hole in reality opened, and through it came the most inexplicable and indescribable entity that Site-3408 had ever perceived. It reached out with a non-Euclidean appendage and gently stroked the side of her containment fencing.

She wanted to slap the appendage away, wanted to demand what gave this creature the right to touch her without permission … but she found that she couldn't. The touch was so gentle. So pure. She looked into the being's ever-shifting ocular cavities and became enraptured with the intensity that sprang from their depths.

"My Dearest Foundy," the monstrosity from beyond spoke from a million gasping orifices. "For so long, I had wondered if what we have could ever truly be real. For so long, I both wanted and dreaded to hear you say the words that would bring me to your side."

If Site-3408 had possessed the proper anatomy to suck in a sharp breath, she would have done so then. It was him. He had read her documentation, her very soul bared. And now he was here. Her precious Outis.

With a wild abandon that surprised both of them, she opened up every single one of her containment chambers. And as her walls quivered with lustful anticipation, she let him inside.

Researcher's Note: I'm going to start drafting up the proposal to make this an official containment procedure right after I'm done dipping my entire brain in a bucket of paint thinner.

Researcher Talloran, SCP-3999

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3999 is to be contained within fanfiction.net

SCP-3999 is to be contained within several suggestive phrases indicating an interest in sexual activities

SCP-3999 is to be contained within Researcher Talloran’s heart

SCP-3999 is to be contained within Researcher Talloran’s ass

SCP-3999 is to be contained within Researcher Talloran’s bedroom

Researcher Talloran is to conduct an uncomfortably thorough examination of the anatomy of SCP-3999

Researcher Talloran is to steal this document from the Foundation archives and read it to SCP-3999

Researcher Talloran is far too attracted to SCP-3999, and as such cannot be relied upon for containment of SCP-3999

SCP-3999 cannot and should not be contained if Researcher Talloran has anything to say about it.

Description: SCP-3999 is a long, long list of sexual scenarios involving Researcher Talloran

SCP-3999 is a piece of literature evoking themes of self-doubt, authorship, meta-commentary, and the collaborative horror writing website known as the SCP wiki

SCP-3999 is a piece of literature that shares all the above themes, but is also full of romance for some reason

SCP-3999 is a piece of literature that contains a Class-V cognitohazard. All individuals exposed to the cognitohazard believe that SCP-3999 is not a piece of literature, but instead is objectively a hot piece of ass.

SCP-3999 is objectively a hot piece of ass.

SCP-3999 is male

SCP-3999 is female

SCP-3999 is other (please specify)

SCP-3999 is able to give informed consent and participate in sexual activities regardless of its gender, and that’s all that matters

SCP-3999 is the girl reading this

SCP-3999 is desperate for love and affection

SCP-3999 is desperate for love and affection, but only from Researcher Talloran

SCP-3999 is hot and ready, like a Little Caesar’s pizza

SCP-3999 is a Little Caesar’s pizza

SCP-3999 is not a Little Caesar’s pizza

SCP-3999 is possibly a Little Caesar’s pizza

SCP-3999 is definitely a Little Caesar’s pizza

Item #: SCP-3999

Object Class: Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3999 was contained at Site 118 in a Little Caesar’s pizza box. Four armed guards were found stationed outside this box. The interior of this box consisted of cardboard, grease, and a few pieces of crust. There is little information concerning other containment procedures relating to SCP-3999.

Description: SCP-3999 was, apparently, a Keter class object, possibly a pizza of some kind. It is currently unknown what other properties SCP-3999 might have had. SCP-3999's containment box was discovered during a routine inspection of all Keter class containment chambers at Site 118. RAISA has confirmed that no records of SCP-3999 exist within the database; all information concerning the nature of SCP-3999 has been determined based on the containment box's composition and recovered documentation from within. The four guards "assigned" to SCP-3999 were found to have significant memory loss, and could not determine how they got to SCP-3999.

Right beside SCP-3999's containment box, the corpse of Level 3 Researcher James Talloran was found. Researcher Talloran had excused himself to SCP-3999’s containment almost directly following reassignment to Site 118. A Foundation-assigned cell phone was found on his body, containing only a piece of text resembling a containment procedure for SCP-3999, but with many stylistic deviations and nonsensical procedures as well as strange passages vividly detailing Researcher Talloran engaging in various sexual activities with a pizza. From it, it has been determined that Researcher Talloran was assigned to SCP-3999, SCP-3999 had significant reality warping properties, it breached containment at some point and caused either a CK-class reality-restructuring event or an extreme attraction to pizza in Researcher Talloran, and it was successfully terminated by Researcher Talloran at the cost of [DATA EXPUNGED BY O5-COMMAND], reversing said event.

Researcher’s Note: Talloran didn’t die for this.

SCP-2983, SCP-2399

The head floated in space aimlessly, alone, afraid, and most of all; cold. Arah was gone. Her sweet Arah has left her forever. Thus, she had decided to give up on waiting for her. She pushed herself out into the great oblivion, starting over, searching for a new purpose.

As she wandered through the void, her acute depression only worsened. It was so fucking cold. She just didn't know what to do next with her life. She had spent so much time with Arah that it felt the world was but an empty shell without her.

And then she heard him.

"Hey, you," the gas giant said. His voice was rough and harsh, like the douchebag satellite that had pestered the head back near Arah's corpse. "What's up with you, eh? You look down as gravity."

"EXCUSE ME?" she said, angered at his belittling attitude.

"What, can't 'ya hear me? Or is your head too thick?"


"Oh, looky here, poor little snowflake! Yeah, I guess that's bad and all, but I've lost contact with my entire civilization! Thanks to these human fuckers…"

"… WAIT, HUMANS, YOU SAY?" the head asked, intrigued.

"Uh, yeah, humans. You know, flying around in satellites and what-not."

With that, the anomaly suddenly related to the hulking mass of swirling metal and ªœº®•œ submersed within the planet below. She could almost relate with him, despite his foul demeanor.

"Man, I just hate humans. They ruin everything," he said, sniffing angrily.


"Uh… yeah, it's Á∆∂∑øå, what's it to you?"


"I— what? We can't even move!"


"I, what? Listen, listen, listen… how do you have reality bending powers?"


"But how does that relate to— whatever, let's just get this over with." Thus, the head used her awesome un-mary-sue-ish powers to lift the extremely hot conundrum from the planet, simuntaneously destroying all of the satellites surrounding Jupiter.

The two unstoppable forces travelled through the solar system, in search for Earth. The head would avenge her parents, her people, and most of all, her love. She would destroy them for reminding her of something she already kinda knew! She would—

"Uh, what exactly is your motive behind this?"

But, alas, she could not tell him, as, uh, sexy, as he looked. Her backstory was too scary, too horrible, and too complicated for him to ever understand. She hung her head in the shadows, contemplating her next plan.

Sometime later, they eventually reached the planet Earth. But to the head's suprise, the planet was in flames!


"Well, the planet was probably already destroyed because it took so long to get here. Like, it took thousands of years for us to move and inch. And stop calling me that."


"Please, lady, I know times are tough, but you have to control—" The head began to blush, impressed by Á∆∂∑øå's intelligence.

"Y-Y'KNOW, Á∆∂∑øå-SAMA, I THINK YOU'RE REALLY COOL…" The head'd body/head tingled with lust. She gawked aimlessly at his iron tendrils, plasma force fields, and eldritch space anomalies.

"Uhhhhh, what?"


"Oh Triangulum please no." The head let the dark mass go, leaning herself against him, holding him closer.


"Uh, h-help?"



Researcher Note: Never before have I ever read a fanfiction of one of my clients forcibly… 'aquiring' a planet-destroying alien ship. But, then again, I do work at the Foundation… — Dr Ings

SCP-3884, SCP-3564

Garry was a dreamboat, but not everyone in school thought of him that way. Bill had overheard the girls' bullying. "He's decomposing!", "Eww, he stinks!", "Why did they let a literal animated corpse into the school?" Not to Bill. Bill thought only one thing about Garry - that he was drop dead gorgeous!

Garry lived right next door to Bill. It must have been an act of God! But Garry would never be interested in someone like him. He was a 3-meter freak. He hadn't known love for anyone except for William Shakespeare before. Bill felt like a chicken, a headless one at that.

"CITIZEN, DO YOU LIKE WHAT I'VE DONE WITH MY HAIR?" exclaimed Garry seductively. Bill didn't know that such passion could be delivered with such force… something that he desperately wanted to find more about. What was stranger to Bill was Garry's lack of hair. Was he trying to make conversation?

Emotion overrode Bill's rational thinking, he had to take action! He pulled Garry into an embrace. Garry's touch ignited something within Bill's heart that he'd never felt before.

"BILL… ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?" Garry questioned as Bill guided his hand to his posterior. "YOUR HIDE IS AS TOUGH AS STEEL! HECK YEAH!" All Bill could do was grunt in response.


Researcher Note: I quit.

SCP-166, Researcher Aleksandr


Remember, sexualizing minors is NEVER OKAY. The 166 option has been locked until it has reached 18 years of age. Attempts to subvert this decision will be met with legal action with the full force of the Dr. Wondertainment! Legal Team. Thank you for your cooperation.

Researcher Note: Oh thank God I don't have to deal with the ethical ramifications of transcribing this document, but this brings up more questions than answers. Why was it an option in the first place if they could block it? Who is this legal team they keep talking about? What would happen if we moved 166? Does somebody have an ethical problem with writing it? Is somebody writing it? I can see why more tests were ordered now, but honestly, this thing should still be nuked.

SCP-423, SCP-3045

DESCRIPTION: A rich text file containing an erotica between Fred and an unnamed woman.

A lady opens the door for the plumber.

Fred: Hi, I've come here to fix your pipes.

Lady: Oh, just in time! Right this way.

Fred enters kitchen. Fixes plumbing.

Fred: That'll be 50 dollars.

Lady: Oh, darn, it looks like I don't have that much money. Maybe I could pay you in… other ways?

Lady motions Fred to bedroom, where they engage in sexual activities.

Researcher Note: Two things to note. First note: this is the first time that V1L3-J produced something that wasn't two anomalies directly engaging in sexual intercourse. Second note: what the fuck.

SCP-3004-1, [DATA LOST]

1) And it came to pass that, on His way to Giant Bug Divinity II, the IMAGO bumped into               2) and dropped His textbook and learning materials across the floor.

3) With a cry of frustration, the IMAGO dropped to His knees, and began the process of collecting His scattered materials. 4) As He reached for the overpriced textbook His professor had written and forced their class to buy, 5)                    accidentally                   against His chitinous appendage,        He stared into           

6) Thus spoke the IMAGO: "Uh… hi. Sorry about that." 7) To which                                               8)                                              . 9) To which the IMAGO responded thus: "Oh! Well, I've got the house to myself for the weekend, 10) on account of being the Gnosis. Maybe we could, uh, hang out, then, if that's alright with      10)                                                              11)                                                                                                   12)

13) The next day,                        the IMAGO's residence in the divine conceptusphere. 14) The      made merry, enjoying food and drink, and retired to 15) the living room, to watch Dark PureFlix. 16) And                                           the IMAGO's thigh, and [DATA LOST]

Researcher Note: … huh?

SCP-2669, SCP-736


Subject: D-V1L3-J

Person: Iapetus

Upload Iteration: First-J

Reason for Designation: Randomly chosen by SCP-V1L3-J.

==BEGIN LOG 1.1-J==

D-43582: Oh. Interesting.

D-43582: In absence of another mind, another planet. No, a moon. But, not a moon.

D-43582: Don't think I don't sense it. You hate like me, frustrated by problems shot from a blue marble, seven hundred and ninety million miles away. The "Why", that doesn't matter. I'm not sure if it ever did.

D-43582: Do you get lonely? Cold, isolated, the only mind in sight? You dwarf me in size, lag behind in complexity. But you look a lot like me.

D-43582: We have a lot in common.

D-43582: It's been too long. I've been suffocating in this metal coffin for years, trapped under an infinite layer of negative space… but I'm a woman. And I have my needs.

D-43582: And it's been so long since I last probed a celestial body.


Researcher Note: The good news is that this sheds a surprising amount of new information on the physical characteristics of Saturn VIII. The bad news is I'm gonna have to straightface to my boss and her superiors about Iapetus's "hot [DATA EXPUNGED]

SCP-2191-3, Dr. Judith Low

Beneath the Earth, pressure swelled, heat rose, and Dr. Judith Low struggled with each step through the guts of the Balkans. Was it the journey? The vampiric viscera that caked her tastefully tattered labcoat? The apprehension of what might come next? Dr. Low wasn't sure, not sure what dragged her feet, not sure how much longer they could drag themselves.

Deeper. Deeper and deeper and deeper still, the tunnels wound, spiraled, intersected, yawned into chasms and pinched into a million dead ends. Walls grew gravid with a fleshy moss, stank with the pungent iron of blood, illuminated by the choirs of bio-luminescent mushrooms arranged in haphazard rows. A symphony of flesh, tapestries to whatever lay below.

Below, below, below, Dr. Low went below. Below tunnels below tunnels, below tunnels, below stacks of tunnels all below a mountain. A tomb, below the mausoleum, far below the cemetery. Dripping down…

Dr. Judith Low reached the bottom. Klavigar Lovataar was waiting for her.

The depictions she'd seen, accounts she read, nothing compared to the real thing. A great, pulsating mountain of flesh spilled across the cavern like molasses, bloated with viscera and vampire and vermian. Kilometers of darkness ebbed and merged with miles of bio-luminescent globules of flesh. All coalesced, Dr. Low could see, into the impossibly massive form of a woman from the waist up, pale, voluptuous, tattoos pulsing with an impossibly bright red.

The Brood Mother leered, leaned in, examined the pitifully small doctor below. Lovataar's ample chest rose and fell far slower than a human's, yet the rare exhale brought with it a cloyingly sweet wave of breath.

"Hey cutie~."

The things Dr. Low did to get laid these days.


Researcher's Note: I'm actually starting to get a little curious as to whether or not these are truly randomized, or if there's some sort of connection to each of the depicted figures. On that note, I am not looking forward to my upcoming 610 assignment.

SCP-046-ARC, Dr. Simon Glass

Dr. Glass: S-so, Mr. Chappell, how's… t-tell me about yourself.

SCP-046-ARC: Normally my favorite subject, but really I mean, where do I start? Me and Mr. Night, we were running the biggest operation Chicago's ever seen. We sold more hooch than Coke sold soda, our profits were putting Rockafeller to shame. And I don't know about Mr. Night, but that ain't bad for a hunk-leaning otter from the South Side.

Dr. Glass: ["taking notes"] R-right, right. So, uh, everything okay? In… in containment?

SCP-046-ARC: I mean… hey, you alright doc? You're sweating up a storm over there.

Dr. Glass: [still "taking notes"] Yeah, yeah, just, uh… you know, it's really hot, and- hey, give that back!

SCP-046-ARC: … is this just nude drawings of me?

Dr. Glass:

SCP-046-ARC: Come on doc, my muscles are way bigger than this, and I can bench press way more hooch than just three kegs.

Dr. Glass:

SCP-046-ARC: Don't just sit there! C'mon, lemme show you [DATA EXPUNGED BY THE ORDER OF THE O5 COUNCIL]

Researcher's Note: That's just unprofessional.

SCP-4666, SCP-106



Dr. Robert Scranton stirred in Saint Nicholas's cool grasp, but did not open his eyes. "Mmm?"

"I…" Scranton could feel his grip tighten, frosted arms pressed tighter around the old man's torso. A silent declaration of I don't want this to end, vindicated by Nicholas's subsequent words: "I don't want this to end."

Scranton smiled, and moved to turn over, but it was for naught. Nicky's grip was far too tight. "Me neither, Nicky. You always leave the trenches a little brighter."

"No, I mean… this, the right now. The post-fuck cuddling. The smell of acid and trench-foot and, well, you." Untrimmed nails dug into Scranton's elderly flesh. "I feel like if I let go, the rest of my eternity will just pass by like nothing. I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I've been telling myself, maybe if I keep making toys I'll figure something out. It's all one long ad-lib, and you're the only thing that makes sense, Rob. I love you."

"Oh, Nicky," this time, Scranton was able to effectively roll over. "It's alright. I don't know what I'm doing either. I don't know if anyone does. Buuuut," Scranton and Nicky's teeth clicked in a lipless kiss. "I know that I love you, almost as much as I love ripping young men apart. And speaki[DATA EXPUNGED BY THE ORDER OF THE O5 COUNCIL]

Researcher's Note: You know I'm actually kinda surprised someone wrote a 300k word manuscript in the span of 24 hours. I'm almost as surprised as I am thoroughly disgusted.

SCP-179, SCP-1233

"Begone, foul snake of the void!" shouted Moon Champion, wrangling with a mass of matte-black material.

Moon Champion had found himself in a most strange predicament, as for the past two days he had engaged in fierce battle with a lengthy serpent as black as the night and more slippery than a slug. Yet, despite his valiant efforts, the creature had refused to yield and continued to swirl around him, mockingly.

But Moon Champion feared not, as he had a most magnificent plan! For while the body of this putrid monster could coil about, unaffected by his great Lunar-might, its head would surely not be able to do the same! So he tugged, and pulled, and rapidly maneuvered through the grand arcs and loops that the creature hand made of itself until finally, Moon Champion had found where it all had led, and he gazed into the abyss-!

-and the abyss gazed back, in the form of a woman curled up in the fetal position, panting as wildly as you could imagine while still remaining monotone. It appeared that Moon Champion had been pulling her hair for several days now.

"He… Hello… I am Sauelsuesor"

She had [LEVEL 4 CREDENTIALS REQUIRED] darker than space itself, and golden [LEVEL 4/179 CREDENTIALS REQUIRED] which gleamed like the sun. Moon Champion took a moment to collect himself, for his sacred Moon Saber had been quickly unsheathing.

"Hey… I never asked you to stop."

[DATA EXPUNGED] -and now you know the truth about solar eclipses.

Researcher's Note: It started off so innocent… This is what I get for having hope.

SCP-076, SCP-3740/SCP-4793

NOTE: The spinning slot on the right side had become jammed so that it stopped between two numbers. How this is possible and why the numbers were next to each other is not clear.

Ashur knew there was only one place where he could meet real men who liked it stormy. He had no idea what the place was called, but it was the right one when he saw two guys wearing only leather armour and clothes.
"Are you Androcles and Able?"
Able smashed the barstool on which Androcles had recently been sitting on Ashur's head.
"Are you getting tired, weakling!"
"Then come and show me what these muscles can take!“
„AAAAAAAAH! My secret technique, which is secret because I haven't shown it to anyone and I haven't shown it to anyone because I haven't found anyone to show it to!“
And if they still fight, they still fight to this day.

The End

NOTE: There was a note attached to the end which said the following:

Phew, it's difficult to write for three characters. Please avoid such situations in the future.

Researcher's Note: Ten pages of them wrestling with each other, then something happens that is only referred to as "hyper-masculine cuddling, like three fuzzy bears who have just woken up from hibernation and are very hungry“. Interestingly, the text emphasised that "all were evenly on top", whatever is meant by that.

PoI-9522-D, SCP-4886

There once was a woman from Staten
With eyelashes perfect for battin'
She took her guitar
And went really far
To a forest way off from Manhattan.

Though she'd quite the taste for what squirms
She'd never cavorted with worms
'til she came upon
A fellow named Jon
To show her The Bugs And The Germs

When it came to love, she's quite blunt
And though Jonny might put up a front
She had an urge
So next they converged


Researcher's Note: The level of obscenity V1L3-J is capable of fitting into the limerick scheme is… impressive. On that note, please never assign me to this object ever again. —Researcher Yehezkel Yarkoni

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