THEY ARE CRUNCHY

Link to article: THEY ARE CRUNCHY.

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[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Provisional Commander speaking. Come in, Uhl.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Sirs! Dr. Estrada says she came up with a way to exploit the Threll's weakness to cold on an unprecedented scale. She called for a meeting about it later today.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Yes, yes.  Very good.**##

##white|**We actually meant to discuss certain changes to leadership that you have authorized.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**What do you mean? I am... not aware of such a thing having occurred.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Specifically, your appointment of Dr. Gregory Cunningham as Director of Site-19.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Oh. Right. Right. Yes. Of course.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Dr. Cunningham is not only grossly underqualified for such a position, he has also incurred several disciplinary infractions for alcohol abuse under your employ, has he not?**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Water under the bridge! He's really come through for me in the past few weeks. If it weren't for him, Site-912 wouldn't have access to Site-19!**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**We have hacked a feed of Site-19's security cameras.**##

##white|**Cunningham has set up a makeshift conveyor belt system to supply SCP-914 with DVDs of Rob Schneider movies and attached a motor to the hand crank. We believe he's trying to start a small business.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**As is his right. I trust his discretion as site director unquestionably.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**...Why?**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**The reason itself is a lethal infohazard.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**...**##

##white|**Uhl.**##

##white|**It may be true that the Threll enhanced our capacity for gullibility for ease of use to a potential client.**##

##white|**However, on the off chance that you are taking advantage of this...**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00B029; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**He can also fly and grant wishes.**##
[[/div]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #00ffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
##white|**Good. Raise his salary.**##
[[/div]]
------
[[div style="border:solid 3px #ffffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
[[=]]
+++ Special Meeting Called by Dr. Estrada, 2/20/2027
++++ Site-912 Conference Room, 8:00 AM
[[/=]]

<Begin Log>

[Roll call truncated]

**Uhl:** Now, then -- Estrada. I understand you had some kind of proposal for how to deal with the Threll?

[Estrada stands, holding a stack of papers. She's still a little shaky.]

**Estrada:** Before I begin, I would like to personally thank you, Lt. Packard.

**Packard:** Huh?

**Estrada:** If it weren't for you coming to my aid when I was at my lowest last Tuesday from all this guilt I'm feeling...

[Uhl's eye twitches.]

...I couldn't have buckled down and come up with this plan at all.

**Packard:** All I remember telling you was "Shut the fuck up about and get back to work, jackass."

**Estrada:** You did, but I found deep personal significance in your words.

[Packard shrugs.]

[Estrada pulls up the first printout.]

**Estrada:** Item #: [[[SCP-9870]]]. Object class: Apollyon.

**Koroviev:** Right, the "Primal Freeze" or something.

**Gwan:** Sounds like the Threll's worst nightmare.

**Uhl:** It's an Apollyon, not a Thaumiel. We can't //use// it.

**Estrada:** No, let me finish. //[Reading from the file.]// "And I realized… it never went away. We just stopped caring. Stopped respecting it. ... Maybe we should’ve stayed scared."

**Fogel:** Are you implying that there's a way to harness this against the Threll?

**Estrada:** Less "harness," more "provoke."

**Uhl:** But //how?//

[Estrada pulls out a blueprint for something labeled "HUBRIS BOMB."]

**Estrada:** Now, this is going to require a lot of suspension of disbelief, but just hear me out...

<End Log>
[[/div]]
------
> +++ Deployment Log for Initial Hubris Bomb
> ++++ 3/10/2027, 12:04 PM CST
> 
> <Begin Log>
> 
> [Site-912 hacks into a security camera in the deployment site: a public square in Chicago's Grant Park. Satellite footage has determined minimal to no non-repurposed human activity within 400 km of this area, and the Ethics Committee has unanimously approved[[footnote]]"Screw 'em." - Dr. Fogel[[/footnote]] the termination of repurposed humans in the area as collateral damage on the grounds of mercy.]
> 
> [Within the square, 14 Threll soldiers engage in the popular Threll cultural practice of lying on the ground and hissing.]
> 
> [After dropping from low orbit, the landing vehicle crushes several Threll instantly. A helmeted commander among them rallies the survivors.]
> 
> **Commander:** {{Kuru! Grek malyuaka tuo! Uur-uur!}}
> 
> **Other Threll:** //[Affirimative {{uur-uur}}-ing]//
> 
> [They approach the landing vehicle with spears drawn.]
> 
> [The landing vehicle opens like a blossom, revealing the Hubris Bomb, surrounded by autoturrets with cryogenic ammuntion. The gunfire scatters the surrounding Threll.]
> 
> **Commander:** //SHIT! {{Rakarra byeng va! Vorro-ku!}}//
> 
> [The speakers on the Hubris Bomb activate.]
> 
> [Several songs[[footnote]]//Hot Hot Hot// by Buster Poindexter, //Hot in Here// by Nelly, Heat Miser's song from //The Year Without a Santa Claus//, //Through the Fire and Flames// by Dragonforce, //Smokey the Bear// by Gene Autry, //All Star// by Smash Mouth (but only the part from 1:00 to 1:14 referencing global warming, on repeat), //Fire// by the Crazy World of Arthur Brown, Heat Man's theme from //Mega Man 2//, //Start a Fire// by the Tiger Lillies, //Matchmaker// from //Fiddler on the Roof// (but only the line "Playing with matches, a girl can get burned" on repeat) Lava Reef Zone Act 1 from //Sonic & Knuckles//, //Trogdor the Burninator// from Homestar Runner, and //Ring of Fire// by Johnny Cash.[[/footnote]], along with five different ASMR tracks of bonfire, all play simultaneously at 130 dB.]
> 
> [The hologram projector on the top of the hubris bomb activates. It displays INFERNO.AIC, a cartoon matchstick who speaks 7 dB louder than the noise.]
> 
> **MATCHY.AIC:** HEY, GUYS! If I could borrow a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few words.
> 
> My name is MATCHY.AIC, and I'm an accredited expert on extreme temperatures from University of Phoenix. And based on my EXTENSIVE research in the field of thermodynamics, I can say the following with EMPIRICAL CERTAINTY:
> 
> **##cyan|//COLD//## IS HARMLESS. IT'S ##orange|//HEAT//## YOU NEED TO WORRY ABOUT!**
> 
> That's right! I will now cite the MYRIAD reasons why even absolute zero is preferable to any temperature over 30 degrees Celsius!
> 
> Point One! If it's cold out, you can just put on another layer of clothing! What are you supposed to do when it's hot out? Be naked? Take off your SKIN? TAKE OFF YOUR //BONES?// TAKE OFF //YOUR GODDAMN SHADOW?!//
> 
> Point Two! The coldest regions of Earth are inhabited! Name me ONE PERSON who lives in an incinerator! WHAT? YOU CAN'T THINK OF //ANYONE?// I DIDN'T THINK SO, //BITCH!//
> 
> [Snow begins falling.]
> 
> Point Three! Anyone who's afraid of the cold DIES ALONE AND UNLOVED!
> 
> Point Four! Frosty the Snowman can //KISS MY LITTLE WOODEN ASS!//
> 
> [Dying Threll scream in the distance.]
> 
> Point Five! Fire's so dangerous that there's literally a department you have to call to put it out! Who the FUCK needs a "//FREEZE// DEPARTMENT?!" (Cops don't count.)
> 
> Point Five! Have you ever been lit on fire? Well, here's another thing to consider: have you ever been lit on //POPSICLE?!//
> 
> Point Si --
> 
> [SCP-9870 fully manifests.]
> 
> [The rapid drop in temperature damages the Hubris Bomb's instruments beyond repair. The hologram flickers.]
> 
> [[size 75%]]...oh my God, they built me to be disposable.[[/size]]
> 
> [Matchy grabs its face, feeling its texture.]
> 
> [[size 75%]]Like... like a //match.//[[/size]]
> 
> [The Hubris Bomb shuts off.]
> 
> <End Log>
------

> None of this is my fault.
> 
> Today's a red-letter day. Estrada's Hubris Bomb idea has been a success of the "ridiculous" variety. We ended up making the schematics open-source for the rest of the holdout human settlements, even passed out copies of MATCHY.AIC. Some GOC techs even found a way to make it smaller and easier to produce.
> 
> Some of us -- particularly Packard -- have been worried bout retaliation from the orbital ships. But if they wanted to use the teleport shells on Yakutsk, they would have done so long ago. 
> 
> There has to be some reason they can't. My money's on some of the hostile anomalies this site has in the basement. You take Site-912, you'll get all the organic life inside. It's a package deal. And since they already hoovered up 682, I can't imagine they'd be too anxious to add to their problems like that.
> 
> None of this is my fault.
> 
> I've been in talks with the Provisional Commander. They say there's been an evacuation of the Threll from Brazil after that Hubris Bomb attack in Rio de Janeiro. Maybe they'll all leave. God willing.
> 
> But what would that leave us? 
> 
> The smog geysers haven't closed, and we don't know how to close them -- so, extreme heat. But  the more we use Hubris Bombs, the angrier the Primal Cold gets, and the more SCP-9870 activates on its own -- so, extreme cold. A planet of black and white weather, off and on, with no gray areas.
> 
> Is that any way to live?
> 
> ...Oh, who am I kidding. We can adapt. 
> 
> And to make sure that we adapt, I've worked out the perfect mental framework to keep me in Good Leader Mode. It's all set up on my secret flowchart. 
> 
> See, I worked out the silver lining: the Threll invasion and the resulting climate fuckery was //not// the result of my MacDuff Protocol. 
> 
> //Because I would not have called for that MacDuff Protocol in the first place if Estrada didn't get so worked up over her fucking sandwich.//
> 
> It wasn't even that good! It gave me the shits! She was gonna get me brought before O3 Command over a glorified laxative.
> 
> So yeah. Estrada did it. Not me, //Estrada.// 
> 
> Maybe she knew more about the Threll than she let on. That way, she could wait until the world gets appropriately fucked over, then swoop in with her Hubris Bomb and be the big hero that everyone loves. Like, some kind of "I never got picked for teams" energy dialed up to 11.
> 
> It's not my fault. It's //hers.//
> 
> ...
> 
> Though... to maintain appearances, I'll still let Cunningham //think// he's got an advantage over me. He's too clever, and so's Estrada. How involved were they? What kind of collusion? 
> 
> They probably gettin' to third in the break room when I wasn't looking. That's the burden of a site director. Everyone but you is having all this secret sex and you never hear about it, learn about it, or see it on the security cameras. Well, so fucking sue me, I'm too professional for that sort of thing!
> 
> I'll deal with them later. Once I figure out how to prove it, EMPIRICALLY, beyond any Holmes-and-Moriarty Bluffy McLiescheme bullshit, that Estrada and Cunningham -- //NOT ME// -- sold the human race to the Threll Dominion -- only //then// will I expose them. And then maybe I'll get some fucking sleep for a change.
> 
> Then maybe my conscience could stop being so CONSISTENTLY FUCKING **INCORRECT**. LAY OFF THE SAUCE, JIMINY!
> 
> ...
> 
> None of this is my fault.
> 
> None. Of this. Is my fault.

------
[[div style="border:solid 3px #000000; background:#000000; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
[[=]]
+++ ##white|Colonial Address from the Threll Procurator, 4/2/2027##
++++ ##white|(Forcibly distributed to all civilian broadcast networks)##
[[/=]]

<Begin Log>

[Feed opens on a particularly large and elderly Threll, five times the height and width of SCP-9298, sitting on a pile of hoarded Squishmallows. Armored Threll guards surround him. The large Threll speaks.]

Hmmm... yes. Hello, my hominid friends. Vuyakuaruk has been ousted from his position. I, speaking to you in his stead, am Second Lord High Suzerain Procurator Gyetuokuaruk.

I would like to address recent... bizarre goings-on.

For starters, on behalf of the Immortal and All-Beloved Threll Dominion, I would like to offer my deepest apologies for the lax enforcement that allowed you to have the mental capacity to develop a murder device that violently decreases temperatures in our direction. One third our invading force now lies dead and frozen, which is cause for serious inconvenience.

No, no, do not blame yourselves; we know it would not have been your intention to do so had your intentions been appropriately proctored.

We understand your disappointment. The comfort of having every aspect of your life dictated is one of the most exquisite pleasures in life, one from which we Threll selflessly abstain so that others may partake. And above all, the subconscious desire in every living thing to serve the Dominion is indeed powerful, so none could blame you for feeling a little... bummed out.

But even though you have our deepest sympathies, there //is// our bottom line to consider. I will not deny that your bio-repurposed bodies have been in particular demand of late, particularly by our Sarkic customers in Iteration 2L. Alas the cost of your upkeep has proven to outweigh the benefit, especially when you consider the amount of Threll corpses you've been collecting.

Again, do not blame yourselves. The responsible parties have been dealt with accordingly.

[Gyetuokuaruk holds up SCP-9298 and the former Procurator by the edge of their shells]

Shialekuaruk and Vuyakuaruk, the incompetent bastards who misrepresented the difficulty of this investment, have been demoted to appetizer.

[Gyetuokuaruk impales their shells one at a time with his own proboscis, sucking out their innards slowly.]

With that out of the way, we come to an unpleasant fork in the road... your future with the Dominion.

But fear not! We have found a solution to this problem that benefits all of us.

It is with great pleasure and esteem that I announce that all sentient beings on this planet have been sold to the Third Lower Domain!

Don't worry. Now you can serve the Dominion more than ever! After all, you've been exchanged for 7,000 metric tons of LODO-3 sand, which can be used as fuel for interdimensional merchant vessels.

So, on behalf of the Immortal and All-Beloved Threll Dominion, we thank you for your earnest attempt at being conquered, and hope you enjoy a more efficacious subjugation in LODO-3.

[[size 300%]]{{HAJHETI TOROG!}}[[/size]]

<End Log>
[[/div]]
------
> **From:** ruprecht@un-goc.gov
> **To:** duhl@foundation.scp
> **Subject:** Kill yourself (I say this lovingly)
> 
> Dr. Uhl,
> 
> The Threll have announced they're going to cut their losses and pass us off to LODO-3. As such, the Coalition has formally disbanded and we have begun to self-terminate with Basingstoke capsules en masse. 
> 
> The GOC has extensive experience with lower-domain lifeforms; none of our intelligence indicates that the Foundation knows anything about them, even if many objects you contain originate from said domains.
> 
> Therefore, you would do well to know what you'll have to deal with unless you follow our example.
> 
> First off, "third lower domain" is not a euphemism for Hell. Hell would be preferable.
> 
> We live in the multiversal iteration of Earth designated 5B. Other parallel iterations -- i.e. 2L, 9H, 13J -- they exist alongside us on a flat plane, side-by-side.
> 
> Now, let's say instead of left or right, you went one step //down// to the first lower domain, or LODO-1.
> 
> You'd end up still in 5B, but with one layer of ontological complication removed. Going up, of course, it's the other way around with the higher domains/HIDO.
> 
> Let's look at the same sentence in different domains:
> 
> HIDO-2: "Indeed, a brown fox of the most intense alacrity, perfumed in lavender and clad with his stately robes of office for his position as Lord High Sutherland in the House of Lords, does deign to leap with grace and fortitude over, behind, and somehow under the lethargic, purple basset hound who was dying of untreated Cushing's Disease, but we love him anyway, for that is the way of the true friend to all animals."
> 
> HIDO-1: "The quick and pleasant-smelling brown fox wearing a black tie dinner outfit jumps gracefully over and then behind the lazy yet endearing basset hound."
> 
> Base Domain: "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."
> 
> LODO-1: "The quick fox jumps over the dog."
> 
> LODO-2: "The fox jumps over the dog."
> 
> LODO-3: "The fox jumps notfox."
> 
> LODO-4: "The fox jumps."
> 
> LODO-5: "The fox goes."
> 
> LODO-6: "The fox."
> 
> LODO-7: "Animal."
> 
> LODO-8: "Noun."
> 
> LODO-9: "Thought."
> 
> LODO-10: "Void."
> 
> LODO-11: "Eee."
> 
> LODO-12: "Ee."
> 
> LODO-13: "E."
> 
> LODO-14: "."
> 
> LODO-15: 
> 
> LODO-16: [DATA EXPUNGED]
> 
> The further down you go, life becomes simpler. But also stronger. Louder. Bigger. More intense. Words and meaning compress and compound into each other, until all language becomes screaming, every action becomes a nuclear explosion, and the laws of physics are completely dismantled. How else could the Threll use LODO-3's sand as spaceship fuel?
> 
> BODO, the Bottom Domain, is the nucleus of all creation. If it even exists.
> 
> ...
> 
> Dr. Uhl, to account for the unlikely possibility of the Foundation being able to destroy the Domain Shunt Cannon that has just entered the L3 Lagrangian point, we have declassified the GOC database for your use.
> 
> But I would not recommend taking any course of action other than to follow in our footsteps. And as much as I hate defeatism and nihilism, that's not why we're killing ourselves. 
> 
> We're doing it because death is one of the first complications removed on the first rung down. What you call an ΩK-class scenario is the norm in LODO-3. Your bodies would regenerate from every wound in seconds -- even complete disintegration --  but your minds would remain as they are today.
> 
> The choice is yours. Die now, or live forever in a world where everything screams.
> 
> Good luck.
> 
> [[>]]
> - Col. Amelia Ruprecht, Global Occult Coalition
> [[/>]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px #000000; background:#000000; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
[[=]]
+++ ##white|**URGENT MESSAGE TO ALL REMAINING FOUNDATION PERSONNEL**##
[[/=]]

Hey, guys. Uhl here. 

Listen... it's been a long couple of months, hasn't it? The turtles, the bio-repurposing. 50% of humanity turned into household appliances. The O3 Council living as a single cube of meat. Global warming and global freezing at the same time. And now, there's a "Domain Shunt" pointed at the planet, ready to fire at any moment.

If I were to tell you that after all this time, a grain of hope has emerged, you'd probably slap me. 

So, slap me. Because there //is// hope.

Thanks to the Global Occult Coalition's declassification of its archives, we were able to access a powerful surface-to-orbit eigenweapon that lay hidden in Siberia.

In two hours, Operation Long Gui will commence. Volley after volley after volley of railgun fire will lambaste critical structural points of the Domain Shunt, shredding the Threll Dominion's superweapon into space dust. This will also dispose of weapons that would otherwise jeopardize humanity's future.

[[size 75%]]For reasons I am not allowed to clarify at present, I am obligated to tell you that operation Long Gui was all Dr. Gregory Cunningham's idea and we should take a moment to thank him for his heroism.[[/size]]

I know not what the future holds once the threat of the Threll has been eliminated. We tread boldly and blindly toward pure uncertainty.

But if there's anything to take from our imminent success, it's this: there are greater things at risk than grudges and finger-pointing. The Domain Shunt's destruction will also herald the destruction of all blame, the ultimate absolution.

From now on, we //cannot// look backward. We must always live in the present, embracing the moment.

Take my case. I'll demonstrate the kind of mindfulness we need by looking outside my window in Yakutsk. 

The ice on the ground reflects the morning sunlight in a great horizontal mirror.

There's graffiti on the building across from me. I can't read it for beans, but it involves a picture of the Soviet Winnie the Pooh smoking a joint. 

There's a strange glow in the sky. Probably an aurora. It's something eerily beautiful, something that's a similar color to what we saw on the Domain ShOH //GOD **DAMN IT** --//
[[/div]]

[[=]]
+++ {{[http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-9298/offset/5 (+ PLEASE PASS OUT THIS PIECE OF PAPER WITH WORDS ON IT TO THE NEW ARRIVALS SO THAT THEY MAY LEARN THINGS)]}}
[[/=]]