 Dear Mrs. Jacobs, my name is Agent Jonathan Bradley, and regrettably, I'm contacting you because your son Mickey has passed away. He was not, as he told you, a security guard at a lumber factory. I know I'm supposed to tow the company line, but your son was a goddamn hero and you deserve to know the truth. He raced into an army of the most hellish creatures I could imagine with not a care but to save the people they were attacking. I wish we all could be as good at- What the f- Oh no, you don't! You pencil-pushing! Ahem. Mrs. Jacobs, in close you will find the remainder of Mickey Jacobs' severance pay. Please note that despite his recent drug issues and sudden disappearance, we will be happy to provide rehabilitation services if he turns up. Signed, Jonathan Bradley, chief of security, Southern Crosscut Pines. What the h- Listen to me very very carefully. Very quickly... No! You'll have kilograms of- No, not today, right? We'll have to wait for us in about ten minutes. La la la la, get out of my office now, you're not my problem! See you in a while. Everything you're doing is making me wanna slap that little shit out of you right now, but I'm more mature, more than I've been normally so I shake your hand. And then I'll bite it off! The lights above the Arby's are getting bolder. This new signal infects nationwide commercials with a cognitohazard that makes the viewers crave the meat. Someone grab the doctor's sandwich so we can have some of that. Item number SCP-2165. Object Class. None. Special Containment Procedures. SCP-2165 is to be left to its own devices. It is not to be acknowledged in any way outside of this reference. This reference is to be kept in an extra-temporal, extra-spatial location. All is as it has been. All is as it always was. Description. SCP-2165 is irredeemable. It is unknown if SCP-2165 is an entity, object, or concept. This information has been deemed irrelevant. What SCP-2165 did has been erased from the timeline by universal consensus. Addendum. There will be no forgiveness. Good afternoon, PSY-42 staff. Why is it so dark in here? What is- What the- Volkov! Was this you? I was only asleep for 20 minutes. Geez. You know, it's not actually that bad. Alright. Oh no. What's eating Dr. Sherman? No, no, no, no. When that DVD logo bounces from corner to corner 1,138 times, the world ends. I see. And where are we now? 1,025. Shit. It eventually comes back. Don't worry. I'll take real good care of ya. Go on. 13 of our town's most popular teenagers just disappeared. 13. Mayor Bennett's hair turns white and he looks 30 years younger. That's not good. Weird. Does any time I try to address this with him, if I'm near the mayor, it's like the memory of these teens just slips from my mind like- Memory altering. Benachini noodle through a suburban mom's tight, puckered lips. And the waiter is being very attentive. He's bringing plenty of breadsticks. It's almost as if- Are you hungry or something? We're Yelp reviews at this Olive Garden. So Martin, yeah, you do deserve 15% today. You did it, buddy. I'm Mayor Bennett. Make something up. I'm just making a video. It's about the Olive Garden. Ingredients, buttered noodles, the Olive Garden. Good enough. Did you know that there are only three days left? You know, trying to avert an XK, is it any easier with you counting down? Well, what do we got? All right, creepy face that checks the box. What the- What? Looks like we have some Ben Drown shit going on. What just happened? What just happened? Lately, I've been spending a lot of my time eating too much Arby's. I just finished the disinformation campaign from Saharu's Arby's video. And now you blurt this out in public? Researcher Green, consider this a formal reprimand. Why does this shirt make me feel so powerful? First, you stole my wardrobe. Then, you lost my favorite shirt. And now some civilian has the power. I expect you to clean this up. Focus up, staff. This test is risky, but it is essential. If the Little Chef entity cannot control its anger, we can't allow it to socialize with the other anomalies. Release the milk demon. Let's get some negative stimuli in there. That's not a promising start. That's a lot of anger. Attempt to deescalate the situation. We'll call this a minor success. Now that the Pepsi Man test is complete, you can head back to your cell with your Pepsi and... Excuse me? There's another one? Wait a minute. Well, that's a little extreme. Hey, Researcher Smalls. Can you see the knife I'm holding in my hand? Why no Junior Researcher Harris. I don't see any knife in your hand at all. Okay, but we're both scientists at an organization that hides magic objects, monsters, and even sometimes gods. So if I told you that I was holding an invisible knife that no one but me could see, you would probably believe that, right? I have seen some crazy things in my career here, so yes. Even though I do not visibly see what you're talking about, I will believe you and we should set up a testing plan of some kind. None of you pursue for driving me to this easily avoidable tragedy! All right, Foundation staff, you voted with comments and we are going to let the little chef entity cook what it wants to. So let's find out what it decides. Barging in with your normal gravitas, I say. We're not cooking. Hashtag relatable, I didn't feel like cooking last night either. You know, for those of you who work off-site, Foundation campuses are a lot like Silicon Valley and that we have on-site restaurants. So you might suggest that this is a breach of secrecy ordering takeout, but it's just from Nick Monalds, which is our, you know, off-brand. But it's the same thing. We have all the secret recipes. You know how we got them. In fact, the on-campus crapplebees is like the most popular after-hours drink spot. I mean, you need to numb the pain somehow. Uh... Ah, you must be looking for surrealistics. Third purple down the neuron that holds your favorite childhood memory. Oh, we got another BI. That's a before-invasion class scenario. Don't worry, we get these all the time as long as we catch them early. One and a half months ago! So we've gotten to that point in quarantine where my wife comes home and says, Darling, the key word is potentially... The key word is cursed! It is cursed. You don't want to know what's in there. Is it? Yes, that is actually correct. They recognize it and they still sold it to her at the grocery store. Well, that's just capitalism. Recognize it? One part of my brain says... Obviously, that's the right answer. One part of my brain says... Don't, no, no, no, don't! All right, steady, steady. Or just breathe in what could be anomalous anthrax for all we know. Places that I think are a cover-up for something because it just does not make sense for them to still be in business. Arby's. Okay, Arby's. Who the fuck is eating at Arby's? No hate, no tea, no shade, I'm sure they're fine, but I've never heard someone be like, Yo, I'm so hungry, let's go to fucking Arby's. And I've never been. Who has been to Arby's? Okay, like if you've been to Arby's, if you work at Arby's, I mean say something, this is your moment to shine, because I genuinely don't... I think it's a cover-up. There's gotta be some shit going on because of no one. What is Arby's even known for? No one going to them? Is that what their reputation is? Because I see them all up on that Twitter shit. I see them all up on the socials. But who's eating there? Who's funding their commercials? Who's funding...what? See viewers, this is exactly what not to do while performing car maintenance. Not only does pulling the hair of the horrible witch who lives in your tailpipe out cause your muffler to be less effective due to it not being packed full of creepy witch hair, but you're also giving her scalp quite a rash. How rude and ungrateful. Thank you in advance, and cheers.