 SCP-999 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-999 is allowed to freely roam the facility should a desire to, but otherwise must stay in its pen. The subject is not allowed out of its pen at night or off its facility grounds at any time. The pen is to be kept clean and food replaced twice daily. All personnel are allowed inside SCP-999's holding area, but only if they are not assigned to other tasks at the time, or if they are on break. Subject is to be played with when bored and spoken to in a calm, non-threatening tone. Description SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 120 pounds, with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject size and shape constantly change, though most of their time is formed as the size of a large beanbag chair. The composition of SCP-999 is oil-based, but consists of a substance unknown to modern science. Other than a thin, transparent membrane surrounding the orange mass, subject appears to have no other organs to speak of. Subject's temperament is best described as playful and dog-like, when approached SCP-999 will react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, hugging them with a pair of pseudepods while nuzzling the person's face with a third pseudepod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor of difference with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and play-doh. Simply touching SCP-999's surface causes an immediate euphoria, which intensifies the longer one is exposed to SCP-999, and lasts long after separation from the creature. Its favorite activity is tickle-wrestling, often by completely enveloping a person from the neck down and tickling them until asked to stop, though it does not always comply with this request. While the creature will interact with anyone, it seems to have a special interest in those who are unhappy or hurt in any way. Persons suffering from crippling depression after interacting with SCP-999 have returned completely cured with a very positive outlook on life. The possibility of marketing SCP-999's slime as an anti-depressant has been discussed. In addition to its playful behavior, SCP-999 seems to love all animals, especially humans, refusing to eat any meat and even risking its own life to save others, even a leaping in front of a person to take a bullet fired at them. Subjects intellect is still up for debate, though its behavior is infantile, it seems to understand human speech and most modern technology, including guns. The creature's diet consists entirely of candy and sweets, with M&Ms and necko wafers being its favorites. Its eating methods are similar to those of an amoeba. Addendum SCP-999-A The following is a report from an experiment in which SCP-682 is exposed to SCP-999 in the hopes that it will curb the creature's omnicidal rage. SCP-999 is released in the SCP-682's containment area. SCP-999 immediately slizzers towards SCP-682. SCP-999 emits elated gurgles, SCP-682 with unintelligible groans and growlings. What is that? SCP-999 moves in front of SCP-682, jumping up and down in a dog-like manner while calling out in a high-pitched squealing voice. SCP-682 groans and says, disgusting. SCP-682 immediately steps on SCP-999, completely flattening SCP-999. Preservers were about to abort the experiment, SCP-682 started talking again. Grunts, hmm, unintelligible, what is this? Low noise, similar to light chuckle, I feel all… tingly inside. SCP-999 can be seen crawling up from between SCP-682's toes, up along its side and around its neck, where it clings on and begins gently nuzzling with its pseudopod. A wide grin slowly spreads across SCP-682's face. Deep chuckling, I feel so… happy… happy… laughs, happy, happy. SCP-682 repeats the word happy for several minutes, laughing occasionally before escalating in a nonstop laughter. As laughter continues, SCP-682 rolls around on its back, slamming its tail upon the floor with dangerous force. SCP-682 with a bell-wing laughter, stop, no tickling, continues here to be a smile on its face. After 15 minutes of no activity, two D-class personnel enter the room to retrieve the 999. It wakes up and unleashes an unidentifiable wave of energy from its body, all the while laughing maniacally. All persons within the waist range, collapsing the crippling fits of laughter, allowing SCP-682 to escape and slaughter all on its path. Meanwhile, 999 quickly rescues as many persons as it can, taking them to a safe place to recover from 682's laughter wave while agents suppress and re-contain 682. Despite the tragedy that 682 had brought upon the facility, 999 has not shown any fear towards the creature and in fact has made gestures suggesting it wants to play with 682 again. 682, however, is stated that feckless little snot-wad can ████████ and die. Memo from Dr ████████ while the test was unsuccessful and ended a tragedy that had to be the funniest thing I've ever seen. I never thought I'd see the day when I would regard 682 as cute. Please send me a copy of the security tape ASAP.