 My name is Dr. King, and you know what I hate more than anything ever invented by mankind? Apple seeds. They have always been the bane of my miserable existence. Cut damn piece of shit at apple seeds. Never whole apples or maybe even sliced apples. Just the seeds going everywhere I go and ruining all my plans. Finally get a chance to test a big SCP. Apple seeds. Working my office. Seeds in the drawers. No matter where I go, apple seeds. But I'm going to change all that. For the past six weeks, I have locked myself alone in my office. The apple seeds have been slowly filling it up and they're up to my neck now. Tonight is the night I let those demon seeds win. Those hell spawned capsules of hatred have finally broken me. Because I cannot deal with one more goddamn apple seed. I hope they don't have apples in hell. Dr. King groaned as he was prone to do in waking up and scrunched his eyes. Was he dead? Was this after? Didn't feel very after. In fact, his face felt like it was resting on a familiarly textured surface. Apple seeds. Dr. King's legs scrambled for ground as he sprung from a prone state, sending apple seeds scattering across the seedy ground. Absolute despair and anguish washed over him in waves, sending him tumbling back to the seeded earth. No. F***. It's not supposed. God damn it. Why won't you leave me? Preoccupied as he was with lament and despair, Dr. King failed to notice the celestial figure approaching him from on high. It was an apple, a whole one with leaves as green as the sea and a shimmer surpassed by none. It had one sticker, a fixed to a side, which shone a golden A shimmering across the landscape. Rise, King. Dr. King flipping around and his jaw would have dropped had it not already been hacking a gape, swinging like a pinata in the wind. Q, what? My son, your final time has come. Broomed the giant flying apple. Dr. King blinked. My time? What the hell are you talking about? A shimmer bright red liberated itself from the apple and spread over the land, blasting everything that had once subscribed to other colors on the spectrum into a brilliant, vibrant red. There is no time to waste. You were born to create apples. Now your time has come. The world is in crisis and the only solution is apples. What? Suddenly, King's mind was veiled with images. He was riding an apple chariot into Site 19 and all the senior staff were apples. They bowed down to him and ready the apple throne for him to sit in. Panning out, the site was apples. Slices made up every wall and the head of every researcher was replaced with rotund healthy apples. There was no danger because skips were apples. The whole world was apple. So you see, it is. Where are you going? King was already gone. No. I am not going to be the king of the f***ing apples. But it is your destiny. King turned the floating apple, which called itself his father. His face was even redder than the world that surrounded him. F*** destiny. And then Dr. King was apples no more. How is he holding up Doc? Well, we recovered about 765 apple seeds from his trachea in addition to the couple thousand we got from the rest of his orifices. Are they still cleaning out his office? Yeah, we'll be digging seeds out of there for a month, poor guy. Man, he looked so pissed when they brought him in there. But now, heck, he looks happier than I've seen in a while. Makes you wonder what he's thinking, doesn't it? Whatever it is, at least it's making him happy. End of file. To learn more about the SCP Foundation, subscribe to SCP Orientation today and turn the notification bell on so you don't miss any of our videos.