Okay, here’s a very, very detailed article about SCP-420-J, embracing the humorous and harmless spirit of the object, while still maintaining the SCP Foundation’s format and tone (with a healthy dose of tongue-in-cheek).
SCP-420-J: The Best [REDACTED] Ever
Object Class: Safe (Keter if you bogart it)
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-420-J is to be contained in a standard secure locker at Site-██. Access is restricted to personnel with Level 2 clearance or higher, and a verifiable prescription for “extreme chill deficiency” or “acute seriousness syndrome.” Any personnel exhibiting symptoms of excessive giggling, munchies, or profound philosophical insights after interacting with SCP-420-J are to be temporarily quarantined in the designated “Chill-Out Zone” (formerly Break Room 4) until the effects subside. Under no circumstances should SCP-420-J be brought into proximity with SCP-173, SCP-096, or SCP-682. The potential consequences of a high, paranoid statue, a high, shy guy, or a high, incredibly grumpy lizard are…unpredictable, to say the least. And frankly, terrifying.
Absolutely no Doritos, Funyuns, Cheetos, or other highly tempting snack foods are permitted within a 10-meter radius of SCP-420-J’s containment locker. This measure is not to prevent SCP-420-J from being “activated” (as the activation method is… different), but to prevent a mass outbreak of Level-1 personnel attempting unauthorized access due to irresistible cravings. Security cameras are to be regularly checked for signs of crumbs. Any crumbs found are to be meticulously documented, analyzed, and then probably swept up.
Regular psychological evaluations are recommended for personnel assigned to SCP-420-J. Prolonged exposure, even indirectly, can result in an increased tendency to use words like “dude,” “whoa,” and “far out,” as well as an unshakeable belief that the universe is, like, totally interconnected, man.
Description: SCP-420-J is a… well, it’s a [REDACTED], okay? It’s the best [REDACTED]. It’s hand-rolled, artisanal, crafted with a level of care and precision usually reserved for, like, microscopic surgery on a hummingbird. The exact composition of SCP-420-J is… complicated. Analysis reveals traces of Nicotiana tabacum (common tobacco), but also a significant, and currently unidentified, organic compound tentatively designated “Substance-Groovy.” This substance is believed to be the primary source of SCP-420-J’s anomalous properties.
The [REDACTED] itself is approximately 15 centimeters in length and displays an almost unnaturally perfect conical shape. It’s wrapped in a thin, translucent paper of unknown origin, which shimmers faintly under ultraviolet light. Attempts to replicate the paper have been unsuccessful; all resulting materials either spontaneously combust or turn into origami swans. We’re not sure which is worse.
When… utilized… in the traditional manner (i.e., ignited and inhaled), SCP-420-J produces a thick, aromatic smoke that smells faintly of sandalwood, patchouli, and… is that freshly baked cookies? Exposure to the smoke induces a range of effects in human subjects, including:
- Euphoria: Subjects report feelings of intense well-being, relaxation, and general contentment. Negative thoughts and emotions are significantly suppressed, often replaced by a sense of profound peace and understanding. One D-Class subject, after exposure, spent three hours staring at a blank wall, periodically exclaiming, “It’s all… so clear now!” The meaning of this statement remains elusive.
- Altered Perception: Time perception is significantly distorted. Subjects frequently report that minutes feel like hours, and hours feel like… well, still hours, but really long hours. Visual and auditory hallucinations are common, but generally benign. Reported hallucinations include: floating geometric shapes, conversations with inanimate objects, and the persistent belief that one’s hands are, in fact, giant pretzels.
- Increased Appetite: Subjects experience a dramatic increase in appetite, particularly for high-calorie, carbohydrate-rich foods. The aforementioned prohibition on snack foods near SCP-420-J’s containment is a direct result of Incident 420-J-03, in which a single bag of nacho cheese-flavored tortilla chips led to a containment breach that took three hours (and two boxes of industrial-strength air freshener) to resolve.
- Enhanced Creativity: While under the influence of SCP-420-J, subjects often display a surge in creative thinking, though the practical applications of this creativity are… questionable. Examples include: a 12-page epic poem dedicated to the existential angst of a dust bunny; a detailed architectural blueprint for a house made entirely of marshmallows; and a fully choreographed interpretive dance representing the lifecycle of a cheese puff.
- Impaired Motor Skills: Subjects exhibit reduced coordination and reaction time. Tasks requiring fine motor skills, such as operating heavy machinery or performing brain surgery, are strongly discouraged. Walking in a straight line can also be… challenging.
- Philosophical Introspection: Perhaps the most peculiar effect of SCP-420-J is the induction of intense philosophical contemplation. Subjects often engage in lengthy discussions about the nature of reality, the meaning of life, and the profound implications of, like, why pizza is so good. These discussions rarely reach any concrete conclusions, but are generally considered highly entertaining by observers.
The effects of SCP-420-J typically last for 2-4 hours, after which subjects return to their normal state with no apparent long-term physical or psychological consequences, aside from a possible lingering craving for pizza and a newfound appreciation for the Grateful Dead.
Addendum 420-J-01: Recovery Log
SCP-420-J was recovered from a raid on a suspected anomalous art collective in [REDACTED], California. The collective, known as the “Cosmic Chilluminati,” was believed to be using anomalous objects to create “mind-expanding experiences” for their patrons. SCP-420-J was found in a velvet-lined box, accompanied by a handwritten note that read: “Dude, be careful with this. It’s, like, really good [REDACTED].” The note also included a crudely drawn smiley face.
Addendum 420-J-02: Testing Log Excerpts
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Test 420-J-01:
- Subject: D-420-1
- Procedure: Subject instructed to [REDACTED] SCP-420-J.
- Results: Subject experienced typical effects. Spent 30 minutes giggling uncontrollably at a picture of a cat wearing a hat. Claimed to have discovered the secret to interdimensional travel, but was unable to articulate it coherently.
- Notes: “We need more cat pictures.” – Dr. Green
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Test 420-J-02:
- Subject: D-420-2
- Procedure: Subject exposed to the smoke of SCP-420-J indirectly.
- Results: Subject exhibited milder effects, primarily characterized by increased appetite and a strong desire to listen to reggae music.
- Notes: “Subject’s request for a beanbag chair and a lava lamp was denied.” – Dr. Green
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Test 420-J-03:
- Subject: Dr. Green (Self-experimentation)
- Procedure: Dr. Green [REDACTED] SCP-420-J in a controlled environment.
- Results: … [Audio log heavily redacted] … “Whoa… the colors… they’re… breathing… wait, is that a unicorn made of cheese puffs?… I think I understand the universe now… it’s all… vibrations, man… and pizza… definitely pizza…”
- Notes: “Dr. Green is to be temporarily relieved of his duties pending a full psychological evaluation. Also, someone get him some pizza.” – O5-█
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Test 420-J-04
- Subject: One (1) Standard Issue Lab Rat (Rattus norvegicus)
- Procedure: Rat placed in enclosure. SCP-420-J [REDACTED] remotely, smoke introduced to enclosure.
- Results: Rat initially displayed signs of agitation, followed by a period of intense grooming. Subsequently, the rat spent approximately 45 minutes attempting to construct a nest out of shredded paper, exhibiting unusually intricate and aesthetically pleasing designs. The rat then curled up in the nest and appeared to fall asleep. Upon waking, the rat displayed a marked preference for sunflower seeds over standard rat chow.
- Notes: “Further research into the potential of SCP-420-J for enhancing rodent architectural skills is warranted.” – Dr. Squeakington
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Test 420-J-05:
- Subject: D-420-3, D-420-4
- Procedure: Subjects instructed to [REDACTED] SCP-420-J simultaneously.
- Results: Subjects engaged in a prolonged and increasingly nonsensical conversation about the philosophical implications of socks. The conversation culminated in a spontaneous interpretive dance, which was described by observing personnel as “both mesmerizing and deeply unsettling.”
- Notes: “Requesting hazard pay for anyone required to observe future multi-subject SCP-420-J tests.” – Junior Researcher Miller
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Test 420-J-06:
- Subject: SCP-106 (Attempted)
- Procedure: Mobile Task Force Zeta-9 (“Mole Rats”) were tasked with introducing SCP-420-J’s smoke into SCP-106’s containment chamber.
- Results: Test aborted. MTF Zeta-9 reported that SCP-106 appeared to “frown even more than usual” at the suggestion. The team retreated before SCP-106 could express its displeasure further.
- Notes: “Let’s not poke the grumpy old man with a stick, even if the stick is, like, really good [REDACTED].” – O5-█
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Test 420-J-07:
- Subject: D-420-5
- Procedure: D-420-5 was given a playlist of classical music and told to put on headphones. SCP-420-J was [REDACTED], and smoke was introduced into the subject’s room.
- Results: D-420-5 reported that the music sounded “amazing, like, each note was a tiny little universe exploding with color.” D-420-5 then requested to listen to The Dark Side of the Moon, stating that it would “probably blow my mind, man.” Request was approved. After listening to the album, D-420-5 remained silent for 20 minutes, then declared, “Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”
- Notes: “We might be onto something with the music enhancement. Further testing with different genres is recommended. Also, someone get D-420-5 some lunch.” – Dr. Green (Reinstated, pending further observation)
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Test 420-J-08:
- Subject: D-420-6
- Procedure: Subject was shown a series of Rorschach inkblots before and after [REDACTED] SCP-420-J.
- Results: Before exposure, the subject identified the inkblots as “a bat,” “two clowns fighting,” and “my ex-wife.” After exposure, the subject identified the same inkblots as “a cosmic butterfly,” “dancing molecules celebrating the interconnectedness of all things,” and “a really delicious-looking pizza.”
- Notes: “The subject’s interpretation of the third inkblot shifted dramatically. This warrants further investigation into SCP-420-J’s potential effects on subconscious biases and… pizza cravings.” – Dr. Freudstein
Addendum 420-J-03: Incident 420-J-07 (The “Great Munchies Caper”)
On [DATE REDACTED], a significant containment breach occurred at Site-██, directly related to SCP-420-J. Junior Researcher Miller, while under the influence of… a “stress-induced headache” (and possibly indirect exposure to SCP-420-J), reportedly experienced an overwhelming craving for nacho cheese-flavored tortilla chips. Disregarding established protocols, Miller attempted to access the Site-██ cafeteria, which was unfortunately located directly adjacent to SCP-420-J’s containment locker.
Miller’s initial attempt was thwarted by Security Officer Johnson, who, despite being armed with a standard-issue taser, was reportedly “too mesmerized by the swirling patterns on Miller’s tie” to effectively intervene. Miller, fueled by a potent combination of [REDACTED]-induced hunger and sheer determination, managed to bypass Officer Johnson and enter the cafeteria.
What followed can only be described as a scene of culinary carnage. Miller, upon discovering a large, unopened bag of nacho cheese-flavored tortilla chips, proceeded to consume the entire contents in a matter of minutes. The resulting cloud of orange dust triggered a fire alarm, which in turn activated the Site-██ automated lockdown system.
Several other personnel, reportedly experiencing sympathetic cravings (possibly due to the widespread dispersal of cheese dust), joined Miller in the cafeteria, leading to a brief but intense standoff with security forces. The situation was eventually resolved when Dr. Green, displaying remarkable presence of mind (despite still believing he could communicate with houseplants), negotiated a truce by promising to order a large quantity of pizza for everyone involved.
The aftermath of Incident 420-J-07 resulted in:
- Three security personnel requiring psychological counseling (due to the “sheer existential horror” of witnessing Miller’s chip-eating frenzy).
- The complete destruction of the Site-██ cafeteria’s supply of nacho cheese-flavored tortilla chips.
- A site-wide ban on all cheese-flavored snack foods. (This ban was later amended to allow for “mildly cheesy” snacks, after a strongly worded petition from Dr. Green.)
- A revised set of containment procedures for SCP-420-J, including the installation of a triple-reinforced, air-locked, cheese-dust-proof antechamber.
Addendum 420-J-04: Further Research Proposals
- Project Groovy: A comprehensive analysis of “Substance-Groovy” to determine its chemical structure and potential applications. (Funding currently pending. Dr. Green’s proposal, which included a 12-page diagram of a molecule shaped like a peace sign, was deemed “highly imaginative, but scientifically… unconventional.”)
- Project Chillax: Investigation into the potential therapeutic uses of SCP-420-J for treating anxiety, depression, and other mental health conditions. (Ethical concerns have been raised regarding the potential for subjects to become “too chill.” Further discussion is required.)
- Project Cosmic Munchies: A detailed study of SCP-420-J’s effects on appetite and metabolism. (This project is currently on hold due to a site-wide shortage of lab rats willing to participate. Apparently, word has gotten around.)
- Project Far Out: An interdisciplinary research project involving physicists, philosophers, and a professional pizza chef, to explore the potential connections between SCP-420-J, quantum entanglement, and the ultimate meaning of… everything. (This project is considered “highly speculative” and will likely remain unfunded indefinitely. However, Dr. Green remains optimistic.)
- Project: Dude, Where’s My Car?: An attempt to use SCP-420-J to assist personnel in locating misplaced items. Preliminary results are…inconclusive. One researcher spent three hours searching for his keys, only to discover they were in his pocket the entire time. He reported that the search was, however, “a deeply meaningful journey of self-discovery.”
Concluding Remarks:
SCP-420-J, while classified as Safe, presents a unique set of challenges for the Foundation. Its anomalous properties, while generally harmless, have the potential to disrupt site operations and induce… unusual… behavior in personnel. However, the potential benefits of SCP-420-J, particularly in the areas of stress reduction and… philosophical enlightenment… cannot be ignored. Further research is crucial, but must be conducted with extreme caution, a healthy dose of humor, and a readily available supply of pizza. And, for the love of all that is holy, keep it away from the keter-class anomalies. We really, really don’t want to know what happens. Seriously. Don’t even think about it.