 Item Number – SCP-5655 Object Class – Safe Special Containment Procedures – SCP-5655 is to remain closed and contained in a small storage container at Site-8. Use of SCP-5655 outside of testing is prohibited. Description – SCP-5655 is an empty can of champ, a derivative of spam, which, when shaken or turned over, will manifest SCP-5655-1. SCP-5655-1 is a 7.5-cm translucent red humanoid with reality-bending capabilities. When given a request beginning with the words, I wish, SCP-5655-1 will alter reality in an attempt to fulfill the request. However, SCP-5655-1's limited reality-altering capabilities will often result in requests being only loosely fulfilled. Addendum – A series of tests were conducted to determine SCP-5655-1's ability to fulfill requests involving physical, abstract, and philosophical elements. Wish – I wish for an orange ball. Result – A tangerine with a bite taken out of it. Additional notes – Junior researcher Dins reported part of his lunch spontaneously disappearing at the time of this test. Wish – I wish for a heavy stone. Result – A 2.2 kg stone. Additional notes – Stone manifested above SCP-5655-1's upstretched arms, crushing it. Wish – I wish for something strong. Result – SCP-5655-1 lifted the stone from the previous test above its head, set the stone down, then pointed at itself. Wish – I wish for a million dollars. Result – A stack of bills worth one million dollars Liberian, approximately equivalent to $6,200 USD. Wish – A method of containing SCP-5655-1. Result – SCP-5655-1 climbed into SCP-5655 and closed the lid. Wish – I wish for a way to more effectively limit the influence of opposing groups of interest. Result – A Molotov cocktail and a lighter. Additional notes – Objects were removed when SCP-5655-1 began demonstrating how to use them. Wish – I wish for another SCP-5655-1. Result – A piece of paper with a crude colored pencil drawing of SCP-5655-1. Wish – I wish for the beauty of a sunset. Result – A piece of paper with a crude colored pencil drawing of a sunset. Additional notes – I tried my hardest was written on the back in pencil. Wish – I wish for the key to eternal happiness. Result – A used copy of Kerplunk with its pretty fun written on the box in Sharpie. Wish – I wish for a better key to eternal happiness. Result – Multiple shrunken philosophy books and a miniature armchair appeared around SCP-5655-1. SCP-5655-1 read for three months, during which it did not respond to requests. Following the three-month period, SCP-5655-1 manifested an unopened copy of Kerplunk. Wish – I wish to bring back the dead. Result – A flash drive containing multiple audio files of ska music. Additional notes – All songs or original compositions attributed to first name Gene last initial E. Wish – I wish for unlimited power. Result – An eight-pack of rechargeable AA batteries. Wish – I wish for a way to balance the Foundation's budget. Result – See Incident 5655-1. Incident 5655-1 – An interview between researcher Alami and SCP-5655-1. Begin log – I wish for a way to balance the Foundation's budget. SCP-5655-1 rubs its chin and paces back and forth for several seconds. To be perfectly honest, Ms. Alami, I don't think I can grant your wish. You can talk? Why are you surprised? This is the least impressive thing you've seen me do. I just… never mind. Why can't you grant my wish? It's a matter of safety. I don't know if you're aware of this, but your reality is dangerously unstable. As a consequence, my job is quite a lot like a game of… Don't say Kerplunk. My job is quite a lot like a game of Jenga. Every time I grant a wish, I'm pulling another piece out of the tower and hoping that the whole thing doesn't topple over. I've been limiting myself when it came to your other wishes. But the amount of reality manipulation it would take to grant this wish, in any capacity, would likely cause your reality to collapse. For both legal and ethical reasons, I can't do it. But you're a genie. Like you said, granting wishes is your job. Yes, but there are rules and regulations for these sorts of things. A small sheet of papers manifests in one of SCP-5655-1's hands as a magnifying glass manifests in the other. Article 8, Section 2 of the Multiversal Interactions and Stability Administration Handbook, very clearly states that, should an act of reality manipulation place a severe enough strain on the foundation of a reality that the actor believes that there is a significant risk of reality collapse, then the actor must not perform the act that is exempt from any of the duties to perform said act. My semi-transparent hands are tied. Well, in that case, I wish that you change the rules so that you can grant my previous wish that my boss gave me. Miss Alami, this is a matter of inter-universal law. As much as I'd love to help you, my wish-growing abilities don't extend to things outside of your reality. So there's really nothing you can do? I'm afraid not. Usually when a genie disappoints a client like this, they offer to alter the client's mind so that they are incapable of feeling disappointed. But I'm afraid that doing so would likely destroy reality. I guess the only thing I can do is grant you a different, safer wish. Yeah, I could do that. Did you have anything in mind? Nothing in particular, no. You look tired. Do you want a coffee? Sure, that would be great. I mean, I wish that you got me a coffee. Your wish is my command. A cup of coffee manifests in front of researcher Alami. She takes a sip. How much sugar did you put in this? Enough to make you ignore that the coffee's cold.