 Every skip locked on sight like Christmas a lot. But Dr. Clef, who worked at site 19, did not. Dr. Clef hated Christmas the whole Christmas time. Please do not ask him. He might rip out your spine. It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. It could be perhaps that his hat was too tight. But I think the most likely reason for this was the hate in his heart for all of the skips. For whatever reason, his hate, heart, or hat. He stood there on Christmas Eve suspicious of that. Staring down the hallway with a rigid concerned walk at the warm lit containment cells all in his block. For he knew every skip contained on this block was busy now with the whole Christmas crock. The specimen of SCP-610 is hanging in trails on the wall. He puzzled over this behavior, but who should he call? Still puzzled his fingers were nervously drumming. Other skips are preparing as there are Christmas breach coming. Then he growled all alone in the observation room. I must learn how to stop this Christmas breach soon. For tomorrow he knew all the skips down the block would wake bread and early might break all their locks. And then, oh the noise, oh the noise, noise, noise, noise. That's one thing he hated. The noise, noise, noise, noise. Then the skips young and old might break out and feast. And they'd feast, and they'd feast, and they'd feast. Feast, feast, feast. Might feast on researchers, guards and the director. Something Dr. Kleff would not tolerate in this sector. And then they might do something he hated he did. Every skip down to 19 Keter and Euclid might break out all together. With SCP-513 ringing. They'd run hand in hand and the skips would start killing. They'd kill, and they'd kill, and they'd kill, kill, kill, kill. And the more Dr. Kleff thought of this whole skip Christmas evil, the more Dr. Kleff thought, I need to stop this upheaval. We can't afford a K-Class scenario now. I must stop this Christmas breach from coming. But how? Then he got an idea. A sexy idea. Dr. Kleff got a wonderful sexy idea. I know just what to do. Dr. Kleff smiled in his room and he requisitioned a D-Class jump suit and broom. And he chuckled and clucked, what a great fucking sham. With his get up and broom, it'll look like testing is planned. All I need is a helper. Dr. Kleff looked around. But since helpers were scarce, there were none to be found. Did that stop the old doctor? No. Dr. Kleff simply said, if I can't find a helper, I'll call a favor instead. So he called his friend Demetri and evacuated the base. He armed the site's nuclear device, just in case. He took guns and amnestics from the site's armory vault, gave some to Demetri and said, blow the side if I'm caught. The nuke's down the hall. That's plan B if I'm dead. The, said Demetri and followed where it led. And Dr. Kleff gave a sigh and headed on down, toward the cell block where Skips lay a snooze all around. All their cells were dark. Eerily quiet was the air. Skips were all dreaming horrific dreams without care, when he came to the first little cell in the square. This is stop number one. The old mirthless doc hissed, and he climbed to the vent, amnestic syringe in his fist. Then he slid down the air ducts. He was actually quite deft. If the old Grinch could do it, then so could the Kleff. He got stuck only once for a moment or two. Then he slithered out of the ventilation chute, where peculiar stockings all hung in a row. This contraband, he grinned, are the first things to go. Then he slithered in slunk with a smile most unpleasant. Around the room he took all unauthorized presents. Candy and spiders, tinsel and crud, stillborns, ornaments, mucus and blood. And he stuffed them in trash bags, then Kleff a bit later, stuffed all the bags in the incinerator. Then he slunked to control. He locked down the whole block. At his dick bin anomalous, he'd have locked up his cock. He closed every bulkhead as quick as a flash, while that doctor even locked the dumpster for trash. Then he burned all the contraband with victorious glee. And now, grinned Kleff, I'll lock down 173. And Dr. Kleff grabbed the keys and he started to open, when he heard a small sound like the chill of an omen. He turned around fast and he saw a small skip. SCP-191 was at the door, who was not more than four. Dr. Kleff had been caught by this anomalous bell, who'd awoke and quite slipped out of her cell. She stared at Dr. Kleff and said, D-Class, why? Why are you locking down her Christmas things? Why? But you know that old doctor was so smart and so slick, he thought of a reply and he thought it up quick. Get the fuck back! Get the fucking fuck back! Then he brought out his gun and fired a whole lot. But that skip was so quick that it dodged all his shots. It slashed and it gashed against Dr. Kleff's skin. But that crafty Kleff knew, she was close enough in, that he pricked her with the amnestic syringe. She blinked for a shocker. She stopped as she faltered. She forgot why she even attacked the poor doctor. Dr. Kleff gave a shove and he shoved her right in, right over the railing, into 173's pen. Then he gathered his keys and locked up containment. He thought it was quite the clever detainment. With blood on the floor, he gathered himself, keyed up the radio and leaned on the shelf. Dimitri, come in! I got hurt rather bad. Be on standby, there's a few more things to be had. Dah! said Dimitri, finger on the red button. Watching the cameras for a signal or something. It was a quarter past dawn, lockdown was in full effect. All the skips still contained, all the locks were all checked. Packing up his shit, Dr. Kleff headed back up, back to his office to start the cleanup. With a crooked smile, he grinned at his work. He laughed as he limped and he said with a smirk. Poo-poo to the skips! He was mercilessly humming. They're finding out now that no Christmas breech is coming. They're just waking up. I know just what they'll do. Their maws will hang open a moment or two. Then the skips down a 19 will all cry. Boo-hoo! That's a noise, grinned Dr. Kleff, that I simply must hear. So he paused and Dr. Kleff put his hand to his ear, and he did hear a sound that was starting to flow. It started in low, then it started to grow. The sound wasn't mad. Why, this sound sounded merry. It couldn't be so, but it was merry, very. He stared down at the cell block. Dr. Kleff popped his eyes. Then he shook. What he saw was a shocking surprise. Every skip down a 19, the tall and the small, were singing that any breech at all. He hadn't stopped Skip Christmas from coming. It came, some hour or another. It came, just the same. And Dr. Kleff, with his bloody chest looking low, stood puzzling and puzzling. How could it be so? It came without killing. It came without breeches. It came without blood destruction or screeches. And he puzzled three hours till his puzzler was sore. Then Dr. Kleff thought of something he hadn't before. Maybe Skip Christmas, he thought, isn't something to lock up. Maybe Skip Christmas, perhaps, is a chance to make up. And what happened then? Well, in 19, they say, that Dr. Kleff's hateful heart melted that day. After a minute, when his heart didn't feel quite so tight, he whizzed past the control room and did the locks from last night, and opened the cells, let loose all the skips, gave back the contraband he did not burn in his trip. Merry Skip-ness, said bloodied Kleff as he came down for hugs. Merry Skip-ness, said the skips as they hugged back with some snugs, with tentacles, claws, hands, and redacted. All grudges on Christmas were simply retracted. Wait, cried Dr. Kleff as he shook the hand of a spook, and I should call my friend before he blows up the- And then they all died. The end.