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Senior Staff Shenanigans / いたずら上級職員

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プッロ・ウォレヌス博士はレベル2研究員でSafeクラスアイテムのスペシャリストだ。彼はサイト-19の非宗教的多目的礼拝堂兼火葬場兼納骨堂を通り過ぎようとして立ち止まった。彼の知る限りにおいて、聖職者があんな風に悪態をつくことは通常はない。少なくとも、故郷の神父はそんなことしなかった。コワルスキ神父が酔っ払ったとき以外は。頭を突っ込んで見てみると、ジャッカル神父が小さな像を撫でているのが見えた。彼は自分の小さな共用オフィスへと走った。

研究を終えて1時間ほど後、ウォレヌス博士は準備を終えた。Sateクラスアイテム保管庫の横で立ち止まり、「そのオブジェクトを法悦およびタリアテッレ11と組み合わせた場合の効果に関する追加研究」を装ってとあるアイテムを調べた。サイト内のカフェテリアへと急ぎ、高出力のアークランプをいくつか手に入れて、用を済ませた。その聖職者に自分は経理部門の奥深くにいなければならないと伝えると、いつでも準備ができる態勢になった。

ジャッカル神父が戻ってきた。まだ像を死ぬほど強く握りしめている。一瞬たりとも自分と050を離すものはいないと踏んでいるようだ。非宗教的多目的礼拝堂兼火葬場兼納骨堂に入ると、ドアがバタンと閉まり、天の国から彼に天の光が降り注いだ。彼は膝をついた。彼の心に呼びかけてくる、天の声があったからだ。「神父ジャッカル、汝選ばれき。」ハッと息を飲んでひざまずき、整然とした文章を組み立てようとして12いると、神の声は続けて言った。「汝、我がこの世の預言者となるべし。我、汝に我が真の姿を見せん。さすれば汝、その同胞はらからに我がことを語りなむ。」

Father Jakal returned, still clutching the statue with a death grip. He seemed determined that nobody separate him from 050 from even a moment. As he entered the multipurpose nondenominational chapel-crematorium-ossuary, the door slammed shut and a heavenly light shone down on him from On High. He fell to his knees as a voice from Above called out into his mind, "Father Jakal, thou hast been chosen." As he knelt gasping, trying to for a coherent sentence, the Voice continued, "Thou shalt be My prophet on this earth. I shall show thee My true form, that thou may tell of Me to all thy fellows." The lights brightened, and Father Jakal shaded his eyes, cowering even further before the Lord his God. All the lights in the chapel shut off suddenly, and a form appeared above him in the rafters, lit from within. As he looked up, in full religious exultation, something fell onto his shoulder and slid to the floor with a plop. "Thou hast been touched by My Noodly Appendage. Rejoice. And eat thy grains."

Doctor Vorenus smiled, as he heard Father Jackal stomp out and call for a janitor. After putting the megaphone back in its locker, he returned to his shared office, and found his half meticulously cleaned. The precise line between the dirty and clean carpet might be hard to explain to his office-mate, but he was sure he could figure it out. After all, he was Doctor Pullo Vorenus, Level 2 Researcher, Safe Item Specialist, current owner of a small statue, and devout Pastafarian.


It was an interesting day for Mess Hall 2. In the chaos of Prank Day, it had somehow transformed itself into both an eatery, sanctuary, and now makeshift medical treatment centre as a very injured Junior Researcher Byantara was wheeled in, dripping from Soviet bullets and blood. This did not do much justice to Doctor Vorenus's appetite, as he dropped his forkful of meatballs and linguini to gaze at what was - snigger - a man more holey than even himself. Strelnikov had not been kind on the trigger, and had been much less kinder to that "mother-fuck Chechen collaborator" Byantara. Poor guy looked as if he were covered in the bolognaise sauce that drenched Vorenus's plate. Eugh.

Elsewhere in Block 2A, forty-eight sex toys relentlessly continued to buzz, rattling the beams and shaking paint off the ceilings. A jostle, a twitch, and one clear plastic vibrator popped loose of its bolts, rattled across the floor and came to rest in a corner with a sharp click. There was a hissing noise as the micronised nuclear reactor powered up, resonating the device at a shrill hypersonic whine. Indeed, Byantara had prepared for the worst by including an ace up his blood-stained, bullet-hole-ridden sleeve.

It was when Vorenus had nearly finished his pasta that the ceiling of Mess Hall began to shake, dropping white frosty flakes into his plate. Nearby, Byantara was halfway through having bullets extracted from his groin by a doctor. Despite the pain, he managed to glance a look at Doctor Vorenus, current holder of SCP-050, as weighty chunks of ceiling plaster buried the pastor of pasta.

Byantara winced as the statue appeared on his bandaged chest, seemingly mocking his agony. Meanwhile, "Steely Dan" dropped from the gaping hole in Mess Hall 2's ceiling, its switch conveniently flicking to "Off" upon the impact against Vorenus's buried, gasping form.


Agent Wolf was having a rotten day.
Every year the prank war started and every year he had to clean up the mess that resulted from it.

He had to track down the SCPs used.

He had to find the vengeful personnel.

He had to find out how Clef had filled a room full of shaving cream without anyone noticing.

It was a dismal day for the agent, until he had happened into the mess hall just in time to see a little statue appear on the chest of one Junior Researcher Byantara.
Wolf couldn't help but stare, stricken with an idea.

He could actually play a prank to get 050, and he knew just what to do.
The agent couldn't help but smile as the plan formed in his head.

Little more than an hour passed after this thought, and now Byantara was walking rather quickly towards the safety of his office.

"Okay, showtime."

Byantara didn't hear the whisper, but he did become aware that something was now blocking his way. Something so horrific he couldn't even scream.
682 just stood there, blocking escape from the deserted hallway. The silence between researcher and monster stretched forever, until Byantara made a move to leave. As soon as he did, he was quickly swallowed whole. The eaten man tumbled down the nightmare's stomach, splashing into a disgusting ooze.

"Aw man, did you really have to eat him? I thought we were just gonna scare him."

Byantara found himself dumbfounded, he could hear Wolf's voice from the disgusting bowels.

"Hey Byantara, I see ya found my new partner, sorry about the whole gonna-die-soon thing."

"Come on, tell him to spit me out! Please!"

"Well," a few seconds' pause, "I guess I could… But ya really should use 'them'".

And on cue 682 split into a large number of butterflies, which revealed the researcher to be sitting in a pool of some store-bought slime. "Thanks pally!" Wolf smiled, showing an image on his laptop to the newly slimy man.
An image of a small monkey statue sitting next to the nameplate of Agent Wolf.


With no security clearence, being a guard for the Foundation could be a very boring job. Typically, Fortis was stuck manning the security feeds. The most monotonous of assignments. On Senior Staff Shenanigans day, however, it had certain advantages. He had everything on hand, just needed the right mark in the right place. When he saw Agent Wolf, J.R. Byantara, and SCP-408 in Corridor 2-B he knew he had just enough time to pull it off. He took a second to locate the office SCP-050 had appeared in before springing to action..

Fortis quickly changed into the red military uniform he had nearby, slathered his face with stage makeup, and donned the appropriate gloves and hat. He grabbed the can of paint stashed behind the door and headed out of the room. Finally, he made his way down the hall to pick up a container of Play-Doh, and rushed to SCP-786.

Ten minutes later, Fortis entered the agent's office.

“Agent Wolf, am I right?”

“Yes…….who are you? And why are you red?”

Without warning, the junior guard emptied a full can of blue paint on the agent.

“I found him boys! Get him!”

Agent Wolf had a second to register surprise as a squad of solid red army personell filled the room and riddled his torso with clay bullets.

Fortis couldn't help but smile to himself as he reentered Site 19's Surviellance Room. He changed back into his uniform and stached the red one. He had already washed off the paint, all that was left was to make sure no one else entered the area. He idly examined the monkey statue that was waiting for him on the console, slightly bemused at the thought of a junior guard entering the ranks of Senior Staff.


Linguistics/Supernatural Researcher Veldi had seemingly not participated in the contest, although he had been seen carting tomatoes all over the facility and setting them down at random. After emptying the cart, he retrieved SCP-005 from storage, and accessed an area from which he could work his magic.

With an enormous grin plastered on his face, Veldi spoke into the intercom.

“What happens when 682 gets heartburn? ….. Absolutely nothing, the Lizard doesn’t get heartburn!”

In that moment, dozens and dozens of SCP-504 splattered into speakers, personnel and everything in general.

“I freaking love these tomatoes.” Veldi checked the video feed to his office. Yup, there was the monkey, on his desk. Of course, there was the issue that he now had a PC instead of a MacBook…


As soon as the prank wars started, SCP-738 was Junior Researcher Gille's first destination. It followed contracts steadily, nevermind the side consequences. Nothing he was going to do would harm him THAT much.

The contract? Get the monkey of the last person to have it, and transport it to the middle of the Senior Break room.

Second destination: The Senior Break room. From there, it would be rigged with 20 paintball guns, all set to fire when the sensor picks up movement in a circle around the Monkey. Then, when someone inevitably gets pelted, he walks in and grabs the Monkey.

Third destination: His secret hiding spot, outfitted with a view of all the places he will need to be at.

Fourth destination: SCP-682's storage area. Considering it's been let free, but it's still the safest place on the site, that should be a logical place to store it. Hidden in the third drawer of his desk, however, are 3 pistols, fully loaded no less, with 5 clips, and rations to last 2 days. It pays to be prepared for this day.

Before leaving, Gille remembered to put a bucket of spiders on the door too his office. Someone will inevitably think to check there once he gets the monkey, so this should discourage them.


"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice."

"Not at all. Between you and me, dealing with amateurs day in and day out is so tedious."

"I'm sure. Now you know that one of our little annual celebrations is coming up soon, and it occured to me that one or more of my colleagues may come to you for help. I would appreciate it if you might extend me certain professional courtesies around that."

"Sir, are you suggesting that I breach confidentiality? I do have some scruples."

"Of course not! Wouldn't think of it. But perhaps you could take, let's say, the broadest possible interpretation of the agreed-upon terms."

"You want the monkey for yourself?"

"Since you bring it up, what compensation would you want, in exchange for my permanent posession of said monkey?"

The humanoid figure behind the desk beckons and the smaller man before the desk leans forward. He whispers something in his ear.

"Interesting. Not at all what I'd expected. And I must say that, while I'm flattered that you offer, I'm very happy to work for the Foundation, and don't contemplate a change anytime soon. Let me make a proposal of my own. In exchange for the aforesaid professional courtesies leading to temporary possession…"

It takes some time, but eventually the human and the entity wearing the face of a legendary law professor reach an agreement. A secretary is summoned from the accounting department, sworn to secrecy, duly threatened with death, and made to witness an agreement that bursts into flames the moment the formalities are complete.

Sheldon Katz and the entity shake hands.

Across the site, in a specially rigged broom closet, Junior Researcher Gille watches the Senior Break room on screen, then 682's pen, then his office, then back to the break room. Nothing. Wait. Something.

Something rushes into the room, something about knee-high and very fast, something with a single bright blue eye in the middle of its bulbous yellow body. It's dribbling a smaller object in front of it like a soccer ball. As it pauses on the periphery of the circle of paintball guns, the "ball" comes to rest. It's a statuette of a monkey.

Researcher Veldi runs into the room, panting and red-faced. The Eye-Pod skitters away from him. Veldi lunges, and a chase ensues around the edges of the room, with the Eye-Pod and the monkey always staying just out of Veldi's reach.

After four circuits of the room, the Eye-Pod makes a sudden break to the right. Veldi leaps, trying to tackle it, and trips over his own feet. On the floor, he hears a series of clicks followed immediately by splatting sounds, and wonders for a moment if he somehow missed some tomatoes. He picks himself up, and observes that the walls of the break room have a new paint job in the style of Jackson Pollock.

The Eye-Pod scurries out of the break room and heads down a corridor, rolling the monkey down the hall still. Gille jumps up from his seat and sprints down the hall. He figures if he goes down corridor 37, then makes a sharp right just before the firehose he can head them off—yes! Here they are, and he's just a pace behind Veldi. He drops his head and starts running as fast as he can.

"You think that's funny? I hate running," says Veldi between gasps.

The researchers sprint after the Eye-Pod, neither gaining any real advantage or getting any closer. They follow it now left, now right, now a long straightaway and into a dead end, a small chamber at the end of a long corridor. Gille jumps on the monkey and Veldi jumps on Gille. They grapple on the floor, neither noticing the Eye-Pod backing out of the room until they hear the door start to close. Gille looks up just in time to notice a third figure in the room: humanoid, but made of concrete and covered in spray paint.

In the awkward silence that ensues, the disappearance of the monkey barely registers on them.

Finally Veldi says: "I've got to blink on three. One…two…"

Katz notes the monkey statue that now sits atop his empty inbox. He's already senior staff, but his secretary is out sick and nobody from the temp pool can seem to ever type up his briefs just the way he likes them. He looks through the stack of neatly-formatted documents before him and nods in satisfaction. Yes, the devil will have his due, but he does love a nice-looking brief. Worth it.

He picks up the monkey and goes into the hallway outside his office, waiting for someone going in the right direction who looks sufficiently junior and sufficiently gullible. Soon enough, a cub researcher who he doesn't recognize passes by, and Sheldon intercepts him.

"Excuse me, young man, could I ask a favor? Someone left this in my office and they need it for a team-building exercise in the main cafeteria. Just take it up there and someone will show you what to do next."

He feels slightly bad, watching the eager youth hurry down the hall with the monkey, but better him than Sheldon, and in any case this will teach him a number of valuable lessons.


Doctor Briar sighed, looking over the contents of his small office. It had been a long, hard road to get here. So many times, he'd thought he would die. So many times, he had lost what he thought of as "everything", only to build himself up so he would have something else to lose when the time came again. It had certainly not been easy, but he'd managed, somehow…

He always wished it could have been easier, though. If only there had been some way he could have made his journey to a respected member of senior staff without having to endure so much suffering. Of course, he had only been a low-level recruit in the Foundation when they stopped holding the Staff Prank Wars. He had heard of them, of course, and how the cleverest member of the Foundation's personnel stood to be raised to Senior Staff for winning. It was truly a shame that he had been so new when they held the last of them, an all but nameless lab assistant, not trusted with anything more important than proofreading documents…but then, that was his advantage, wasn't it?

Briar smiled, looking at the assembled items and documents sitting on his desk. At the top of the pile was a death certificate. Just another Foundation employee that had finally met his end, but to the elderly man at the desk, an opportunity. After all, permanent ownership didn't extend past death. Most importantly, however, was the small locked box on top of the pile. There were so many anomalous objects with temporal effects in Foundation custody that they hardly bothered to catalogue them all. No one would notice he had "borrowed" SCP-█████ among a batch of other research materials, and the letter he planned to mail would not be going anywhere that it would be looked for. Chuckling to himself, Doctor Briar took out a fountain pen, and began to write.


Years earlier, a much younger version of the same man breathed heavily, hiding in a cubical and shaking. In his hand he held a much-folded piece of heavy parchment, written upon in flowing calligraphy. Nervous, he muttered the words aloud as he re-read the page, "Volunteer to assist in accounting. Short-staffed due to people calling in sick to avoid the contest. Agree to witness a contract. False name. Render null and void…"

He shook his head in disbelief, dizzy with the implications. It couldn't be that easy, could it? Of course, he had barely dared believe what he held in his hands until the prank war began to unfold, exactly as the note claimed it would. Still, it seemed too good to be true. A deal with the Devil shouldn't be so simple to thwart, even if it wasn't really the Devil. Of course, the plan wasn't over yet. Just botching Katz's deal wouldn't much of a prank by itself, after all. Steeling himself, the younger Briar stepped out of the cubical, and announced that he was going on his lunch break. As he entered into the corridor, he put on a ring, and pulled out the small electronic device from his pocket.


At the doors of the cafeteria, a young researcher was stopped by a polite cough. He turned, his face guileless and smiling. A dark-haired man snatched the bundle out of his hands before he had a moment to react.

"Oh, thank goodness I caught you in time! I am SO sorry! It seems that my colleague gave you the wrong article by mistake. This is the one they need in there."

A small device was pressed into the researcher's hands. He babbled for a few moments about how glad he was to help, and how sorry he was that the other man had to chase him all the way here. Briar, in turn, made his excuses, politely stating that it was no trouble, but he really had to get back to work. He gave the hapless researcher some basic instructions on how to set up the device, and told him to just "get it started for them". As he hurried to return SCP-399 to containment, he could hear his modified MP3 player begin to loop Rick Astley's most famous composition with enough bass to shake the light fixtures. The altered lyrics, bragging of the genius of one Sheldon Katz, could just barely be made out from where he stood. Since he didn't have an office, Briar made a note to check his locker later on.


A D-Class that had been fortunate enough to avoid all of the chaos of the day was desperately looking for a place to hide. He found an isolated cell, and quickly opened the door, failing to notice the number "173" emblazoned above the door.

The moment the door was fully open, he stepped through the frame. He saw two men on the floor, and then he looked up.

He recognized the sculpture a few seconds too late.

Veldi and Gille charged him, threw him in the cell, and quickly closed the door. The sound of bones breaking followed shortly after.

Veldi breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that was fun. Next time, let's check doors before going in them. Don't want Blinky to be let out."

Gille was shivering from the experience. Veldi leaned down. "Oh, by the way… I think ahead." He pointed out that the wall opposite 173's containment had been painted red. Gille was still in a stupor, so Veldi walked away and pressed a button on his phone. A tinny, electronic voice came from above the door: "Leggo my Eggo-carrying Lego Winnebago full of–" The sound was cut short by a wall of tomato juice.

Veldi checked the video feed on his phone again. Yep, the monkey was on his desk. He figured that he should set some more traps so that it wouldn't stay away for long. He hurried to his supplies.


Link: http://www.scp-wiki.net/seniorstaffshenanigans
Created by: TheDuckmanTheDuckman, 2011, and others collaborated
Licensed under: Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License


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