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Lament smirked slightly and started walking down the hallway, heading toward his extremely messy office and waiting outside the door. Oh man, I'd never pull something like that off, I'm no good with those elaborate pranks. He was scrapping dried flakes of cream from his lower back when he noticed he what he was walking in. He glanced down the hallway and saw Reject, lying in a puddle of the stuff. R.'s heart skipped a beat as he put two and two together. With the dead security guard he had been dragging along, he waved at his companion. We could try to get to the O5 bunker, but we can't make it from here. Before flipping the switch and killing everyone on-site, he took a moment to make sure it was a dead body. If it was, well…the nuke wouldn't do any good, anyways. Irritated yet strangely grateful to get some kind of wash, he lifted the rim of the bucket to find the monkey sitting on his desk.
Renfield moaned in her sleep, the drugs having her knocked out completely. Did you actually talk to those little commies yourself? Quizzically, he raised a foot to get a better look. "Dis noise, have they figured out what we are doing? They're going to detonate the on-site warhead." There was a full moment of silence. A quick check later confirmed that Research Assistant Reject was not, in fact, dead. Junior Researcher Byantara had prepared a whole week in advance for this day.
Kap was as surprised as anyone when the little monkey appeared on top of his computer tower, and sighed slightly at the poor devil who was going to have to treat Lament and clean up the hundreds of tiny insects from his office. INCIDENT 2011-██ T-330 minutes Researcher Eisenberg seen carrying a set of mechanic tattooing equipment, origin unknown T-310 minutes Researcher Eisenberg seen entering the enclosure of SCP-1006, carrying a bucket, a stack of papers, and his personal copies of Assorted Writings of V. T-0 Junior System Administrator Kap seen entering medical wing, distraught, lacking vestments, and covered in spiderwebs. Father Jakal looked up from his prayers, at the monkey statue which had appeared on his podium. As far as he could tell, priests didn't usually swear like that in church. A quick trip to the Site cafeteria, and the acquisition of some high-powered arc lights, and he was done.
When the transfer of Site 19's backup set off some alarms, he knew it was time. Now, all that was left was to hope someone in Block 2A actually managed to get hold of 050. Byantara refreshed the page, spat out his acrid coffee, and dashed out of the lab. Researcher Eisenberg rushed out of his office, and returned rather sweaty, holding a heavy Latin dictionary. About an hour later - languages weren't exactly his strong side - Researcher Eisenberg arrived into the containment cell of SCP-758, with a sheet of paper heavily worn out with eraser marks.
Kap - a name adopted because he was sick of people mispronouncing his full name - was sitting and typing away deep in the bowels of the Site. gave a quick knock and pushed the door open without waiting for a reply. One hour, three minutes and twenty-one seconds ago, he idly browsed through the frantically compiled digital record of SCP-050 possession. In his right hand was a remote, with a single green button, and he mashed it in double time to his steps towards the central communications office. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed that upon seeing it, Vasili let out a sigh before introducing an ample amount of corrections. bloody hell, and I thought my surname was unwieldy." Researcher Eisenberg sighed and took out a pencil. Shaking with expectation, he ran to the nearest internet-enabled terminal.
Whoever holds 050 at the end of a 24 hour period will be promoted to the ranks of Senior Staff. When the man exited his office, his face was pale white. The man looked at the calculator and said "Okay, okay. When they arrived at a file cabinet, the man stopped. , my cousin." The humongously fat Hawaiian nodded ponderously at the uniformed corpse held aloft in his hand, then slowly shook it so that it's head nodded along.
I currently hold it, so y'all can start by pranking me… He ran his finger along the cabinet until he reached "2004 Operating Budget Reports Jan-Mar." He started typing on the calculator. Chuckling to himself, he slipped the matchbook the poor guard had died failing to protect into an outer pocket of his enormous satchel next to a tarnished canteen, and waddled out of the ruined containment unit and down the hallway toward the personnel wing.Atop said computer was a certain statue of a certain monkey, which many people had tried to obtain. The entirety of site 19, backed up, and emailed elsewhere, so if this goes as balls up as I expect it to, we can reboot." He sighed, and stood up. The calculator agreed in return for the ability to see the rest of the prank war. When the man returned, he gave Reject a questioning glance, but dismissed it. As he fell, Reject grabbed SCP-168 and the brown paper bag. He looked once more at the unconscious accountant on the ground.