SCP-3012

Dr. Weinberg: Good morning, SCP-3012. Have you slept well?

SCP-3012: Yeah, you know I don't sleep, dog. Probs got wild cameras looking at my dick all the time. Got an itch I can't scratch, and it sucks real bad.

Dr. Weinberg: You're referring here to Dybbuk events?

SCP-3012: Oh fuck yeah. Is that what you're calling those? Pretty good name. I mean, I don't know what a dybbuk is, really, but I saw Rugrats as a kid. Cool shit, cool shit.

Dr. Weinberg: I believe it is fitting. You're only trying to scare them, aren't you? The house we took you out of just collapsed yesterday. How did you know that was going to happen?

SCP-3012: I get pulled. I get pulled real hard. You'dn't get it. I don't think you'd get any of it, Dr. Dorko. It just makes sense. Like the sheep from when I was a kid.

Dr. Weinberg: You have memories of your past life? That's so strange, considering…

SCP-3012: Considering what?

Dr. Weinberg coughs and looks to the camera for verification on how to continue. Due to unforeseen possible anomalies, “Misters Against Weed” and others are normally given no information surrounding the containment of other instances.

SCP-3012 Fuck. You got others? They made more? They thought I was funny? Shit, I never thought they thought I was funny. I just thought they were trying to be nice to me. Shit. Did they even make Mr. Destiny? That owns. This owns. This is fantastic.

Dr. Weinberg: What makes you different, then? Why would you have memories where others do not?

SCP-3012: I'm me. I got hit by a fucking bus. Real tragic, honest. Big loss to the world. I'm joking, by the way, I sucked. But yeah, I thought they just did it as my final wishes. But they made more? They really made more?

Dr. Weinberg: Where have their memories gone?

SCP-3012: Shit, dog. You can't have a memory if you never had that shit to begin with. Take an ice cream scoop, take a big dollop of ambient soul from the world around us all hippie and shit, and put it all together nice and condensed. And theoretically, you could get an entity you can tweak. It's amazing, really. It's so cool it works without a full soul. It'd suck to have to find a dead body for every Mister, you know? That shit is nasty.

Dr. Weinberg: So you were involved in the Misters Against Weed?

SCP-3012: Yeah. I wrote the joke.

Dr. Weinberg: So you're familiar with PoI-6870, Jude Kriyot?

SCP-3012: You mean Blunt? Yeah, shit, I knew Blunt. What the fuck are the numbers for, dude? Pee-oh-eye? Whatever, Dr. Dorko. Fuck, can you believe Blunt liked my joke? I didn't think he liked me. But shit, he liked my joke.

Further communication with SCP-3012 was met with continued asides about happiness regarding the “success” of its “joke.” No other viable information was found.

With the information that SCP-3012 is a former high-ranking member of GoI-5869, “Gamers Against Weed,” further interviews have been authorized.

Dr. Weinberg: Hello again, SCP-3012? Are you comfortable?

SCP-3012: I actually don't have any real bodily feelings at all. It's pretty cool. The only thing I feel is, you know, when I make the words on the walls.

Dr. Weinberg: What does that feel like?

SCP-3012: Feels like if string could come out of your fingers. If you had orifices there. It feels natural, like it's ready. I mean, there's nothing happening. It's obviously my fucking, you know, phantom body feelings. A confused soul stuck in a fucked up brought back body trying to remember touches. It's because of the nature of the way they took my soul, you know. Just yanked it. Wild shit, right? God, I could talk all day about this shit.

Dr. Weinberg: We have.

SCP-3012: You're okay for a janitor, you know? I know what you're doing. I mean we both know what you're doing here. But it's cool to talk. You're pretty smart. And you study this shit, don't you? I always used to infodump a little too much. About this shit. Plugged up the chat. After I did it, I'd always feel so anxious. They never said anything.

Dr. Weinberg: You felt like an outsider?

SCP-3012: It's more, like, just added to my mounting list of character flaws. Always thought it was gonna be the straw and the camel.

Dr. Weinberg: You're not that bad.

SCP-3012: Fuck you, dorko. But yeah, I am. I always had a natural inclination toward meanness. I don't know why Blunt kept me. I think he felt bad for me. I thought he always regretted it. When he let me into the group. I just, you know, I'm aggressive. I don't know. The chat was a gentle place. A lot of people there were hurting and looking for laughs. I've always been in the fucking, uh, you know. Insult comedy puppet dog? That shit is hysterical. Wasn't exactly the best fit for the room sometimes.

They made fun of each other. But I was always meaner. More cutting. I got banned a few times, you know. Like more than anyone else. You know how fucked up you gotta be to get banned from the Gamers Against Weed chat? I remember how disappointed Bones would always be. That hurt the most.

I remember, shit, I don't know why I always tell you this shit. I remember this one time I said something horrible to JJ. I got banned. I felt like such a piece of shit. I mean, I never considered it. I was trying to be playful, you know. Like a playful joke. Jesus, that was me. And they always let me come back. I think, it was because they knew I was stupid. I was alone. Shit, when I first joined, I had to have been seventeen.

I just thought that shit was acceptable. I thought a slur wasn't bad if you said it without trying to be hateful. But it's always hateful, isn't it? I was always good at hate. Even when I didn't know it. I don't know. I just don't know how they dealt with me. I thought, you know, if you were offended, you were policing humor. But they, uh, they always let me back. They always told me what I did wrong. And, uh, I just can't believe they're still doing the Misters.

Dr. Weinberg: What did you say?

SCP-3012: I said, “if JJ's so lucky, why was he born a faggot?” I just, I don't know. It's one of those things you think of all the time when you close your eyes. Which, I don't need to do, so this is like metaphorical. I remember how JJ just logged off. And he's untouchable. JJ has never been uncomfortable in his life, and I made him log off.

JJ wanted me back the next day. Bones and Blunt wouldn't have it. They said I needed some thinking time. It was good for me. I hated them for it at the time. But they were right. Fucking robots and stoners, right?

Dr. Weinberg: Why not Mr. Deadly Sins, if you really consider yourself so bad?

SCP-3012: I wanted to be able to use my meanness to be good. I wanted to save people, and I wanted to be alone, so I couldn't hurt anyone anymore. Threats, gore, being creepy, I guess it comes natural to me. Jesus. I'm still fucked up they liked me, in the end. They kept up my joke.

Dr. Weinberg: Couldn't they just think it was funny?

SCP-3012: I don't know if they even think I'm funny, honest. Maybe this is just how they remember me. How they keep me alive. They let me go after I got all Mister'd, like I asked. I wanted to go out and do it. I figured, you know, they just, you know, felt bad. They were just doing my last wishes. But keeping it up? It's weird. It makes me feel like I did matter. I wish I didn't leave so soon. But it was better that way. The whole point of this is to be, you know, full-on Mr. Ominous. Mr. Ominous can't hang out in his bud Blunt's room and smoke weed and get in screaming matches with his roommate. Mr. Ominous, you know, fucking, writes the magic words on the wall and makes teens shit themselves.

Dr. Weinberg: It sounds almost noble. But is scaring them really the best way to go about this?

SCP-3012: I don't really know anything else.

At this point in time, SCP-3012's physical form was failing. Due to its anomalies, medical intervention was impossible. This was the last time SCP-3012 was able to be interviewed.

Before Dr. Weinberg could begin, SCP-3012 began the interview.

SCP-3012: So is this a meeting about how I'm dying?

Dr. Weinberg: Do you want to call it a meeting?

SCP-3012: It doesn't matter. I'm just being weird. I never told you how I found about Dr. Wondertainment, right? You never asked. Seems like slipshod detective work. But, I had one of their things as a kid. You hear about the fucking chicken soup they make? Stick to the fucking toys.

Dr. Weinberg: So thus began a lifelong obsession, I take it?

SCP-3012: Oh yeah. Heavy into conspiracy theory shit and the occult. Magic shit. It's how I got into the chat, you know. In the end.

Dr. Weinberg: SCP-3012, I've been reviewing past conversations we've had, and I've seen you mention a “sheep” a few times. I've never probed, because, well, I know you don't like that. But, before we can't speak anymore, could you tell me what you meant?

SCP-3012: My grandma's guard sheep.

Dr. Weinberg: You're going to have to explain this one to me.

SCP-3012: She had this stuffed animal. Must've been my mom's. It was old. A sheep, obviously. It had a pointy black triangle face. But it didn't have any eyes. It stood up on these weirdly hard little feet. And it didn't have eyes. It just stared. So she'd put it in front of places she didn't want me going to. And I guess it was for the best. My grandpa made the house in the sixties. You could fit a fucking watermelon through the spokes in the bannister. I don't think they knew about safety back then.

She was a bitch, though. She always yelled at me. Always screamed at me to stay out of her backyard. She lived near a fucking forest. Always told me some bad man was gonna snatch me if I ran too far. Hit me a couple times. I loved her, though. I had to love my grandma. And, I don't know. That's what safety is to me. It's doing the mean things to make people not dead. I guess. It's not exactly the best move, but it's all I got, dorko.

Dr. Weinberg: Thank you for telling me this. I admit, it's been on my mind.

SCP-3012: It's cool you're so interested in my shit. But yeah, I'm getting tired. I think I need to go now. Doctor, I just wanna tell you, no matter what animes say, the prototype is always way shittier.

Dr. Weinberg: That's fine, SCP-3012. I hope you have a comfortable evening. We will make your passing as peaceful as possible.

SCP-3012: Yeah. I'm not worried. I'm persistent.

Dr. Weinberg: What do you mean?

SCP-3012: I'm not about to ruin the surprise, dog.