 how Dr. Clef contained Christmas. And by the way, just before I start, I want you to know, we are currently at 16 people viewing the channel. That's the most views a livestream has had. Cheers, Site 42 family. Every skip locked on site, like Christmas a lot. But Dr. Clef, who worked at Site 19, did not. Dr. Clef hated Christmas, the whole Christmas time, but 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 the reason his hate, heart or hat, he stood there on Christmas Eve suspicious of all that. He stood there on Christmas Eve suspicious of all 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 his block was busy now with the whole Christmas crock. The specimen of SCP-610 is hanging entrails on the wall. He puzzled over this behavior, but who should he call? Still puzzled, his fingers were nervously drumming. Other skips were preparing. Is there a 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 wait bright 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! They might feast on researchers, guards and the director something that Dr. Clef would not tolerate in this sector. And then they might do something he hated, he did every skip down in 19, Ketter and Euclid might break out 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. Clef thought of this whole skip Christmas evil the more Dr. Clef 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. Clef got a wonderful sexy idea. I know just what to do! Dr. Clef smiled in his room and he requisitioned a D-class jumpsuit and a 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. Clef looked around, but since helpers were scarce there would none to be found. Did that stop the old doctor? No, Clef simply said. If I can't find a helper, I'll call a favor instead. So he called his friend Dimitri and evacuated the base. Then he armed the site's nuclear device, just in case. Then he took guns and amnestics from the site arm in his vault gave some Dimitri and said blow the site if I'm caught. The nukes down the hall, that's the plan B if I'm dead. Duh, said Dimitri and followed where it led and Dr. Clef gave a sigh and headed on down toward the cell block where Skips laced a snooze all around. Mmm, yes. 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 on the square there's his stop number one, the old Merthless dock hissed and he climbed through the vent amnestics syringe in his fist then he slid down the air ducts, he was quite actually quite deft. If the old Grinch could do it then so could the Clef. He got stuck only once for a moment or two then he slid it out of the ventilation chute where peculiar stockings were hung in a row. This contraband, he grinned, are the first things to go. Then he slithered and slumped with a smile most unpleasant. Around the room and he took every unauthorized present candy and spiders, tinsel and crud. Stillborns, ornaments, mucus and blood. I'm just coming up because this is making, going to sleep, don't put it to sleep. And we're back. And we're back! Where was I? I don't know. Ah yes, Stillborns, ornaments, mucus and blood. And he stuffed them in trash bags then Clef a bit later. Stuffed all the bags in the incinerator. Then he slunk to the control. Then he slunk to control. He'd locked down the whole block. Had his dick been anomalous, he would have locked up his cock. He closed every bulkhead as quick as a flash. Why, that doctor even locked it dumpster for trash. Then he burned all the contraband with victorious glee. And now, grinned Dr. Clef, I'll lock down SCP-173. And Dr. Clef grabbed the cleaves 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. Clef had been caught by this anomalous bell, who'd awoke and quite slipped out of her cell. She stared at Dr. Clef and said, A D-Class, why? Why are you locking down our Christmas things? Why? But you know that old doctor was so smart and 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 the skip was so quick that it dodged all his shots. It slashed and it gashed against Dr. Clef's skin. But that crafty Clef knew she was close enough in. Then he pricked her with the amnestic syringe. She blinked, her chopped her. She stopped as she faltered. Dr. Clef gave a shove and he shoved her right in, right over the rambling into 173's pen. Then he gathered his keys and locked up containment. He thought it was quiet. With blood on the floor, he gathered himself, keyed up the radio and leaned on the shelf. Dmitri, come in, I got hurt rather bad. Be on standby, there's a few more things to be had. Duh! Said Dmitri, 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 sips still contained, all the locks were all checked. Packing up his shit, Dr. Clef headed back up, back to his office to start cleanup. He 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, poo poo to the skips. He was mirthlessly humming. They're finding out that no Christmas breech is coming. They're just waking up. I know just what they'll do. Their moths will hang open a moment or two. Then the skips down in 19 will all cry boo-hoo-hoo. That's a noise, Grin, Dr. Clef, that I simply must hear. So he paused and Dr. Clef put his hand to his ear and he did hear the sound was starting to flow. It started in low, then it started to grow. But the sound wasn't mad. Why, this sound sounded merry. It couldn't be so, but it was merry, fairy. He stared down at the cell block. Dr. Clef popped his eyes. Then he shook what he saw was a shocking surprise. And we skipped down in 19. The tall and the small were singing without any breeches at all. He hadn't stopped Skip Christmas from coming. It came. Somehow or other, it came just the same. And Dr. Clef, with his bloody, chef-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. Clef thought of something he hadn't before. Maybe Skip Christmas, he thought, isn't something to lock up. Maybe Skip Christmas, perhaps, it's a chance to make up. And what happened then? Well, in 19 they say that Dr. Clef's hateful heart melted that day. After a minute when his heart didn't feel quite so tight, he whizzed past the control room under the locks from last night and opened the cells, let loose all the skips. They, the contraband, he did not burn in his trip. Mary Skipness, Skipness, Skipness is the word I said. Mary Skipness said, buddy Clef, as he came down for hugs. Mary Skipness said the skips as they hung back with some snugs, with tentacles, claws and hands and redacted. All grudges on Christmas were simply retracted. Wait! cried Clef as he shook the hand of a spook. I should call up my friend before he blows up the... They all died. The end. Very Merry Christmas tale. Dr. Clef sure is a rascally one. I can't wait to see how he saves Christmas later on.