Happy Birthday, Mister Toasty!

Link to article: Happy Birthday, Mister Toasty!.
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[[>]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:start]]
"Happy Birthday, Mister Toasty!" by  [[*user (Mister_Toasty)]]
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[[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/mister-toasty| My author page]]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]
[[/>]]

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__Location__:  Solar System, close orbit of Sol

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Although there's no such thing as "day" or "night" in extraterrestrial terms, it was still -- loosely -- another regular day in the cosmos, as these things go.  [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-179|Sauelsuesor]]] was peacefully orbiting the sun when something stirred her awake.  She immediately snapped to attention, eyes widening in alarm, and thrust one of her sable arms directly at the threat hurtling inexorably through space.

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But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.

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In the meantime, it was December 30th, and that's Mister Toasty's birthday! He decided to rent out Site-203 for his big day, so after setting loose all the D-class, anomalies, and staff that never get mentioned (it's fine), he went straight to the commissary, where a sign reading HAPY BIRTHDAY MRTOSTY [sic] was strewn. Since this was Site-203, that meant that Senior Researchers Reuben Bialowieski, Rashid Safir, and Moira Silverberg; D-50050, Researchers Levi Dennison, Zhishen Liang, Kimberly Silva, and Maureen Dunharrow; therapist Dr. Lucille Riverson, Senior Containment Specialist Conroy Shulen, Junior Researcher Adele Ampersand, Junior Containment Specialist Guillaume Humboldt, and Site Director Cecil Talbot were all forced to attend! 

Forced to, I say!

"Wait, what's going on?" Ampersand said, certainly not the only one there perplexed. Mister Toasty waved at her.

"Today's my birthday, and I'm celebrating it here with everyone!"

"Oh," she said, still no less perplexed. She blinked and shook her head. "Okay. Who are you again?"

Mister Toasty sighed. He pointed to his name badge:

"**SCP AUTHOR** [[*user (Mister_Toasty)]], **MAXIMUM CLEARANCE**"

"Oh, so it's a self-insert," said Dennison. "I know about those. It's like how Stan Lee used to put himself into all sorts of Marvel films and TV shows."

"More or less," Toasty said, "but I'm only doing it this one time."

"So you summoned us all here to celebrate your birthday?" said Director Talbot.

"Yeah, you and all the other anomalies and characters I've written about ever since I joined the Wiki."

"So basically," said Shulen, "you forced us to stop whatever important work we were doing and dragged us out here just so you could throw yourself a party -- and because you don't have any friends in real life, you needed to resort to us."

"Harsh, Conrad," Silverberg hissed. He snorted.

"Am I mistaken?"

"Not really," Toasty shrugged.

"And on top of all that," Shulen resumed, "do you seriously expect anybody to know who any of us are? You just dropped a laundry list of names that, I can guarantee, nobody remembers or cares about."

"Hey," Dunharrow grumbled in offense. Shulen just snorted.

"I mean, someone would have to have read every single one of your articles to have any idea..."

"That's enough, Shulen," Talbot stated. He issued an icy glare to the other man. "It's his birthday. Let the man do what he wants. It's fine if no one knows who we are."

"Thank you, Cecil," Toasty said, then waved to the person reading this. Yep, that's you!

"Okay, this is getting too meta for me," said Silverberg, throwing her hands into the air as she walked off. "I'm out! Call me when you're serving cake."

But there was no door. Oh no. OH NO! The room didn't have any exit! There was no way to leave! They were all trapped in that room FOREVER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa or at least until the story ended.

"Come on, it won't be so bad," Toasty assured her. "Just wait around until everyone else shows up. We'll have some food, maybe play a few games, and then you'll all go back to your regular jobs."

Silverberg scoffed, clearly frustrated.

"Please?" Toasty implored her. "Like Shulen said, I don't have any friends. Besides..."

He then told her the real reason he was having this party. A cautious smile crept onto her face, and Silverberg relented.

"All right, I guess I can tough it out a bit longer--but try and lay off the fourth wall humor."

"I'll do my best," Toasty assured her. Bialowieski raised his hand.

"You mentioned you invited 'all the characters and anomalies you've written about'. Since none of us are anomalous, can I assume that you're expecting more guests?"

"Oh yes, a whole truckload," Toasty answered. "Of course, since this is a party, I don't really expect any of them to show up until later, since only a total //nerd// arrives early to--"

Suddenly a duck-billed platypus fell out of thin air and onto Ampersand's head.

"Wak, wak," it said. Ampersand screamed.

"AAAAAAHHH IT'S IN MY HAIR AND IT'S GOT HORRIBLE FANGS AND A MILLION MOUTHS AND IT'S EATING MY EYEBALLS, GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!"

She flailed around for a good while with the platypus clinging on for dear life. Eventually, Dr. Riverson reached over and plucked it up. She regarded it sternly.

"Since this thing spontaneously appeared, I can only assume..."

"Ah, hello, madam," said the platypus. "Can I interest you in a tax representative?"

Riverson's eyes twitched. Luckily, Toasty came along and rescued it before it could be thrown against the wall.

"Hey there, J.S.! Thanks for coming to the party!"

"Wak, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" exclaimed the platypus. "Of course, I had to arrive early. It's only good manners!"

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There was a long, dense silence.

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"Right," Toasty drawled. He set it down on a table and introduced it: Joriah Shenandoah Cuthbert, [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8042|SCP-8042]]].

"A platypus?" Humboldt stated.

"Yeah!" Toasty exclaimed. "A tax platypus! He does taxes for anomalies."

"For anyone, really," Cuthbert added. He raised a paw, and if platypuses could smile, he would. "Hiya."

"I already don't like him," Ampersand grumbled. Cuthbert groaned.

"Waaaaaaaaak..."

"Come on, J.S. is cool," Toasty assured her.

"You don't think you're being a bit biased?" Silverberg remarked. Toasty stammered and decided to get Cuthbert something to eat. Naturally, there was an unlimited supply of shrimp and crawfish at the party, so they both dug in, and encouraged everyone else to do the same.

"Is shellfish the only thing you have?" Talbot wondered, cautiously picking something out. Toasty waved at him.

"No, of course not: I've got any kind of food you want. This //is// my party, after all."

"Ah." Satisfied, everyone began to eat whatever they wanted. Dr. Riverson pulled Toasty aside and asked his permission to leave so she could bring someone to the party. Knowing who she meant, Toasty temporarily let her exit the room. When Riverson came back a few minutes later, she was seen leading an adolescent girl by the hand. The girl was floating a few meters above her.

"Hey, Amanda," Toasty waved. She smiled and saluted.

"Yo! Oh, cool, flautas!" Her mother pulled her down so she could eat, and [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8663|SCP-8663-A]]] officially joined the party.

"So much for having any alcohol here," Shulen grumbled.

"It's a bit early in the day for that anyway," Silva remarked. Liang grinned.

"Not for me it's not!"

"I heard that," said Toasty, and they gave each other a high-five. 

"Not to be the one bearing the logical burdens," Bialowieski said in-between bites, "but if there aren't any doorways here, how do you expect people to show up?"  Toasty smiled as he tipped back a sarsaparilla.

"Oh, don't worry: I've got ways of circumventing that. J.S., for one, can teleport--"

As Toasty pointed at the platypus with his bottle, a cloud of smoke emitted in the center of the room. From its center stepped four people, all coughing and waving the plumes away.

"Oh, perfect timing!" Toasty exclaimed, and went over to shake their hands, introducing them one by one. "Good thing I wrote all this down," he said, checking the back of his hand. He squinted: "Let's see... This is acting Director for Site-278, Phillipe Offet; their previous Director, Lamerock Bouquet; and its chief of security, Iseult Bodmall."

"Ahem," said the one I had missed. Toasty lit up.

"Ah yes, and [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7632|SCP-7632-A]]]. I never actually refer to her by name, but it's Medea."

D-50050 spat out his drink.

"The Tyler Perry character?!"

"No, the one from Greek mythology," Toasty answered, "though in all honesty, 'that' Medea could very well be an anomaly on her own. How ya doin', lady?" Toasty went to hug Medea; she embraced him in return and politely kissed his cheek.

"(You didn't invite [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/murphy-law-hub|you-know-who]]], did you?)" she whispered.

"No, no," he assured her, "just my own original characters." She smiled and released him.

"Good. Well, this is turning out to be a festivity of some repute already! Hello, Phillipe."

She smiled cruelly at him. He shrank back.

"I never expected to see you again," he sighed.

"Hmm, yes, small world and such." She chuckled. "Oh, don't give me that look: I'm here for pleasure--but only for awhile. Joriah?"

"Hehnk?"  The platypus looked up from his crawfish buffet. "Oh, hi, Medea! Fancy seeing you again! Thanks for letting me do your taxes. Heh, I'm starting to wonder if I should just move to Orcadia, I've got so many clients there now!"

"Could you assist me?" she said. "I need to retrieve the rest of Toasty's guests, and doing all the work myself is a bit taxing. No pun intended."

"No problem," he replied, wiping his bill clean. "I'll just grab the ones on my client list first, if that's okay."  The platypus instantly phased out, leaving Medea to smile. Toasty waved at her, and she vanished in a flash of lightning. Bouquet sidled up to Offet, a mug of hot tea in hand.

"Acquaintance of yours?"

"You could say that," he grumbled, deflating in exhaustion. "Remember that assignment the O5s sent me on before you stepped down? We, ah, met there."

"Fancy that," he replied, taking a sip. "You met Medea of Colchis and I ran into the Questing Beast."

"Speaking of which, is that...ah, creature here, or...?"

"Ah, yes, she's here, though I doubt anyone else can see her."  He pointed over to a corner, where Toasty was gesturing as if he was scratching something large. Obviously, he could see it, too.

"When Medea comes back, I'll ask her to make it visible for the party," he assured them. Right on cue, she returned, preceded by a stiff breeze and blazing fire.

"Does she always make those florid entrances?" Talbot grumbled.

"I'm afraid so," Offet sighed. "She has an acute flair for the dramatic. Comes with being a tragic Greek heroine, I suppose."  This time, Medea was escorting three ghosts. Toasty put his session with [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8089|SCP-8089]]] on hold, greeting one of the spirits warmly while raising his middle finger at the other two.

"Oi, don't give me that," snorted one of the ghosts. "I seem to recall //you// invitin' //us//. You could at least pass along our names."

"Fine, fine," Toasty sighed: "Everyone, this is -- err, I mean, these //were// Llewellyn Eames and Maxim Veridas. You don't really have to be nice to either of them. The cool one was Anatol Sobolevsky, or [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6683|SCP-6683]]] if you prefer."

Everyone crowded around Gospodin Chudo and welcomed him warmly. Only Talbot approached Eames.

"Ordinarily I'd say it's good to see a former member of Site-203 after their passing, but I'll withhold the tidings in this case."

"Bugger off, Cecil; you ain't exactly a saint yourself," the ghost of Eames snapped.

"Hey, Lew, cool it," Toasty said. "I invited you here because you're one of my characters and I want everyone to be here. If you can't behave yourself, I'll have someone throw you out. All right?"

Emaes snorted and contented himself with drinking some [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2107|Diet Ghost]]]. Meanwhile D-50050, Ampersand, and Dennison were using Veridas as a pinata.

"Ouch, ouch! Stop, stop! It hurts and stings!"

Everyone laughed, and made sure that Gospodin Chudo was having fun. They didn't care about Eames or Veridas, because they were mean and bad.

"Stop breaking the fourth wall!" Silverberg shouted.

Ugh, fine. Anyway, Medea made sure that SCP-8089 was visible for the party, then excused herself to go retrieve more guests. She sank into the floor, leaving a puddle of viscous black goo behind. Ampersand pushed Veridas into it, and he roared in pain as ghostly hands rose out of the puddle and ripped his soul apart. Everyone laughed again. What a wonderful party!

Cuthbert materialized shortly, bringing with him a number of people: Junior Researcher Natalia Yegorova, Senior Researcher Song Hui, Professor Gongsung Sheng, agent Dana Ebony, UIU Deputy Director Harold Dyne, UIU agent Benjamin Garland, and Captain Natalia Szabo.

"Oof," Riverson said as she was elbowed by Bouquet, "it's getting crowded in here!"

"At least you didn't have to wander through Dr. Wondertainment's funhouse with Mr. Quacks-and-Tax," Szabo grumbled. She was accidentally shoved into Riverson; their eyes met, the latter grinning awkwardly. "Uh, hey there. Natalia Szabo of the Castaways."

"Hi," Riverson said, a little flushed. They shook hands. "Lucille Riverson. This is my--" She looked up, spotting her daughter playfully teasing the Questing Beast. "My daughter Amanda. She floats."

"Not the weirdest thing I've ever seen. Hey, Sky Dolphin, put er' there!"  Szabo reached up and the two shook hands; meanwhile the Questing Beast approached Cuthbert, growling softly.

"Yes, yes, it's all right," the platypus muttered. "Even for me, you're notoriously difficult to track down. Don't worry, I've got your papers." Cuthbert then ruffled through his fur and produced a folder, which he handed to the Beast. The creature looked over the document carefully before nodding in approval.

"You weren't joking when you said he'll do taxes for anybody," Bodmall remarked. Toasty nodded.

"You know, I wanted to write a follow-up Tale about him. I was going to explore his origins and have him audit the Scarlet King." 

Bodmall whistled, impressed. "Seems like a tall order. What happened? Did you get too many projects or something?"  Toasty hemmed, tepidly refusing to answer. He shuffled off to greet Yegorova, who had joined Szabo and Riverson. The two Russian women immediately struck a rapport and started talking in their native language; Professor Gongsung had smuggled some whiskey in and was drinking with Zhishen, Shulen, and D-50050; Ampersand wriggled her way through the crowd, finally isolating herself. Toasty noticed and approached her; she was talking to an older brunette woman wearing glasses. Toasty smiled and hugged her.

"Hey, Hilde. Glad you could make it."

"Uh, yeah," she answered, stiffly returning his embrace. "Me too, honestly. It didn't look like I would for a minute there."

"Eh, no worries," he assured her. "So how'd you get here?"

Hildegard Kemper pointed her thumb over at the corner, where the bust of a middle-aged member of German nobility was situated. Surrounding it were a number of people, all bearing glasses of punch and plates of hors d'oeuvres. Toasty chortled stiffly and approached it.

"Pardon me, your excellency."  The bust turned around, its stony face lighting up.

"Ah! Master Toasty! Deucedly wonderful party you've organized here, my good fellow -- and such company as I've not seen in many a fortnight!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Baron. Would you like to introduce everyone, or shall I?"

"You are the host, my friend," the bust replied modestly: "the honor is yours."  Toasty called for everyone's attention and rounded off even more names: agent Raven Wesson, Rhonda Smith, Claire Douglas, Romia Biancospino, Liath Cairill, Maya Sarasvati, and the honorable Baron Hieronymus Karl Friedrich Freiherr von Münchhausen, [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7784|SCP-7784]]].

"Wait, Dr. Sarasvati's here?!" Shulen blurted. He, Silverberg, Safir, and Bialowieski sprinted over to her, aghast to see her alive and well. Sarasvati just smiled shyly and waved.

"Uh, yes. Hello."

"My god!" Shulen gasped. "Maya! We all thought you were... I mean, after [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8543|what Eames did to you]]]...  Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "Sorry to leave off so ambiguously like that."

"But you were covered in boils the last any of us heard about you!" Silverberg breathlessly exclaimed. Sarasvati nodded.

"Yes. I got better."

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There was a very long, very painful pause. Everyone glared at Toasty.

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"Just couldn't help yourself, could you?" Szabo snapped. "You //had// to sneak in a Monty Python joke, didn't you?"

Toasty just shrugged, earning himself a dope-slap. The party went on.

"Well, we're glad you're in good health now," Bialowieski said. "What can we get you? He may be a mediocre writer, but our host didn't skimp on the food."

"I think I'll just settle for some fried tofu and a portabello sandwich."  Sarasvati reached for the food, put it on a plate--then stopped herself and quickly nabbed something else. "Oh, and an almond cookie!"

"A woman after my own heart." D-50050 smiled at her and winked; she grinned in return.

"Hello, Duny. Good to see you're well, too."

"I haven't yet been ejected into outer space," he shrugged, munching on pieces of brie. Sarasvati's eyes widened.

"That's an oddly specific boast."

D-50050 nodded. "Toasty was going to feature me in my own article, you know. Send me to a strange dimension, make me indestructible, toss me into space, make friends with Sauelsuesor..."

"That  sounds promising," Song Hui pointed. "What happened?"

"No idea," D-50050 shrugged, popping broccoli in his mouth. "It was just one of those things he never got around to."

"I'm starting to notice a pattern," said Bialowieski. "He wanted to do a 001 proposal with me in the starring role. That never happened, either."

"Reuben," Silverberg said, her voice patient but stern, "I warned him about the fourth-wall jokes, and now I'm warning you. I didn't come here to get bogged down in metaphysical jargon; I just want to have a good time, stuff my face, and maybe get stone drunk."

"But I thought with Amanda here, there wouldn't be any..."  He trailed off, noticing a group of people gathered around in a circle. Raven Wesson, Natalia Szabo, Baron Munchhausen, Conrad Shulen, and Gongsung Sheng were all chanting and cheering, each of them taking turns drinking from a keg. 

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"

There was someone resembling a lumberjack at the hose; he held it to his mouth with one hand and flashed a thumbs-up with the other. After consuming what must have been the entire keg, the lumberjack finally pulled away, exclaiming as he wiped his mouth and laughed.

"Another keg, beermaster!"

Everyone clapped and cheered. Toasty grinned and waved at another guest. A man wearing a toga and sandals floated over, a winged cap nestled at a slant on his head. Despite carrying a large keg in both arms, he didn't seem burdened in the slightest.

"Ambrosia straight from Olympus!" he exclaimed. Everyone cheered again. Silverberg scoffed.

"You were saying, Reuben? Excuse me."  She slithered her way through and requested a turn at the hose, which everyone eagerly granted. Toasty noticed Bialowieski's shock and explained.

"Oh, this is [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8514|Paul Bunyan]]]," he said, indicating the lumberjack, "and this is [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8479|Hank Green]]]. Oh, wait, you two know each other, right?"

"In a roundabout manner," Bialowieski said. He approached the two cautiously; Bunyan pulled him in for a crushing handshake while Green just tipped his winged cap.

"Glad to meet a native son of Poland!" Bunyan exclaimed. "Toasty's told me a lot about you! He says you're one of his favorite characters!"

"Good to know," Bialowieski winced. Bunyan released him; Hank just laughed and tapped the man's bruised hand.

"It's been awhile, Reuben. Sorry about the difficulty with Bes and Whiskey Jack. You know how us tricksters are."

"Through rather unfortunate first-hand experience," he muttered. Hank laughed and apologized, and the party continued. Riverson and Szabo continued to chat in the corner; Dana Ebony and Rhonda Smith glared daggers at each other; Cuthbert was going around offering to do everyone's taxes; Paul Bunyan chatted with Baron Munchhausen and Medea over their shared experiences as public domain characters; Talbot and Bouquet exchanged stories; Ampersand and Kemper stood by Toasty, somewhat perplexed.

"So this makes //two// nerdy dark-haired women with glasses he's written about," Ampersand indicated.

"Yeah," Kemper nodded, sipping a drink. "I guess he has a type."

"Well, that and redheads," Toasty corrected. "I'm absolutely crazy for redheads. But nerdy brunettes in glasses are a close second."

"Ah HUH," they remarked. Toasty chuckled.

"Don't worry, you two are too young for me, anyway. Silverberg or Riverson are more to my liking."

"Lucky us," Ampersand muttered. She suddenly pointed to Hilde: "Wait, isn't there someone else from your article? Where's Letty?"

Hilde frowned, glancing away ruefully. The subject was clearly a sore one, and not a wound she wanted opened anytime soon.

"Well," Toasty said, "I invited her, but she knows Hilde'll be here, too, so I don't know if she'll come."

The three of them silently drank, stewing in all the unspoken hurt. Medea had the very good sense to appear just then, with more guests.

"Well, that was exhausting," she huffed, slumping over wearily. A 17th-century Dutch man stepped up first, stricken and slack-jawed at his surroundings. He introduced himself as Hubert van der Miir, occultist and archivist.

"My predecessor," Offet said; the two shook hands, one looking considerably more distressed.

"The witch... Ah, I mean, the lady... I did not know that, ah, she could travel through time..."

"Which explains why you're not a ghost," Offet remarked. He glanced over at the three actual ghosts:  Sobolevsky having a grand old time playing Pin the Javelin on the Bad Guy, while Veridas was getting run through with javelins and Eames was sulking.

"And the others you requested," Medea said, pushing two rather amorphous and esoteric entities forward. One of them was an indescribable amalgamation of flesh and inorganic material, the other a transdimensional macroorganism who appeared as a Wolf, a Black Shape with large sharp teeth, and a shadowy figure teetering on the edge of reality and imagination.

Basically, [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7832|SCP-7832]]] and [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7359|SCP-7359]]].

"Hey there," Toasty waved. SCP-7832 immediately began constructing, building, adding, shaping...

"Shouldn't you stop it?" Dunharrow said. Toasty dismissed her concerns.

"Nah, it's fine. Let it have some fun."

"But you remember [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-9832|what happened the last time it got loose]]], right?"

"It's //fiiiiiiiiiiiine,//" Toasty repeated. Dunharrow sighed and went back to drinking beer and playing games. Meanwhile, the Wolf approached Toasty, who scratched its head.

"Been a long time, buddy. You doing okay?"

"Can't complain," it replied. "Is this everybody?"

"Almost," Toasty said, somewhat forlornly. "We're still missing one person."

Just then, the door that, //I swear,// could never be opened until the story ended, suddenly opened. A young Italian woman stepped through, carrying a paper bag.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone: I got lost driving around again. I went and picked up some burgers, I hope that's oh...kay..."

Everyone froze and stared at her. She stared back.

"What? Wrong place?"

Hildegard Kemper nervously stepped forward, her hands folded. The other woman seized up.

"Hey, [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-9199|Letty]]]."

Francesca Briscoletti, SCP-9199, swallowed.

"Hi, Hilde."

The mother of all awkward silences fell between them.

"Um, Letty -- listen, I --"

"Don't," she interrupted, freezing Hilde where she stood. The other woman trembled, her lip quivering in grief.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hunching over. "That's all I can say. I wish I could do more..."

"Yeah," Letty said. She pointed her thumb at Toasty, who stood by with patient anxiety. "About that. Toasty told me that he had planned on writing a follow-up tale if my article ever got big enough. A resolution, I guess you could say."

Hilde said nothing. She looked up slightly, more curious than hopeful.

"He wanted to show how I'd cope with everything, but then an actual anomaly, something you all didn't fabricate, came in from out of nowhere and started attacking people. The Foundation...didn't really know what to do. I mean, they only had experience with maintaining the veil -- for me, I mean -- they had no idea how to deal with an actual threat. But I came out of my funk and took command. I guided our site to victory, and we defeated the anomaly."

Hilde swallowed. She stood tall again, still curious but also...

"Yeah? Then what?"

Letty wiped a tear from her eye and approached the other woman.

"Oh, you know:  predictably mushy stuff. I realized that...you all were my family, and...this world was still my world, and I had to protect it. Things like that. Hackneyed nonsense that any middle-schooler could cook up."

She smiled and took Hilde into her arms.

"And I understood that, at the end of the day, we were still friends, no matter what."

Hilde wept, returning the embrace.

"He told you that?"

Letty smiled.

"He didn't need to."

"God," Hilde shuddered, unable to stop crying, "that's about as emotionally stock as you can get!"

"I know," Letty replied, sniffling. "But...honestly, so what? He isn't wrong."

Hilde couldn't bear it any more. She looked down, removed her glasses, wiping her eyes.

"Sounds like it would've made for a good Tale. Too bad he never..."

Letty just hugged her closer.

"It's fine."

Suddenly, Levi Dennison piped up:

"Kiss her!"

"Yeah!" Liang shouted. "Let's see some tonsil inspections here!"

"[REDACTED] you," Letty snorted, raising her middle finger. Hilde just giggled, and they released each other. The moment, unfortunately, had been ruined a little, but the ladies still felt better after their heart-to-heart.

"It's still pretty hot," Liang muttered.

"Hey," Guillaume said, "if it helps, I'll make out with Dennison. I mean, it's only fair, right? If two guys start smooching, we need two girls in on it to balance everything out."

"I'm game," Dennison shrugged. Hilde just rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, I'm genuinely not into Letty like that. Besides, this technically counts as an interspecies relationship, and 4chan this is not."

"Damn it, stop with the meta jokes!" Silverburg shouted. A lewd expression graced Hilde's face.

"But, uh...I won't stop you fellas from doing it, heh."

"Yeah, let's see some yaoi!" Dunharrow shouted. Silva shrugged.

"I have no objections."

"Me neither," Szabo leered. "I'm always up for a gay old time, no matter which locker room we're talking about!"

"Oh, dear," Riverson sighed, "all this in front of a child!"

"Mom, shush!" Amanda hissed. "I wanna see boys make out!"

Dennison and Guillaume shrugged, looked at each other, and totally --did the thing-- went ice skating instead.

"Oh, boo!" Amanda growled. "Toasty, you jerk!" Szabo snickered.

"Still hot. Anyone else want popcorn?"

And so, with that, all of Toasty's guests had arrived, and the main event could commence. A long table was brought in (don't ask who did it, or how, or where it came from...)

"Just repeat to yourself," said Wesson: "it's just a Tale, I should really just relax."

And everyone took a place, with Toasty at the head. He cleared his throat and a pleasant silence fell.

"Friends, anomalies, fictional constructs, the time has come for me to reveal the true purpose behind this party. While I do enjoy meaningless frivolity, I'm afraid something much more serious was the motive behind all this. You see...I'm retiring from writing for the SCP wiki."

A soft murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Now, I'm not going to retire just yet -- I still have a few things I'd like to wrap up -- and I'll certainly be around to read, review, and offer insight for anyone in the Ideas and Drafts forums..."

He winked and shamelessly held up a sign that read "PLEASE CONTACT TOASTY (me) FOR ALL YOUR GREENLIGHTING AND CRITIQUING NEEDS! (offer void in Utah)"

"But this is basically my swan song. Some of you may feel a bit crestfallen at the news, while others may honestly not give half a rotten rat's rear end whether or not I'm still around. Regardless, I won't be doing this anymore. I can't. The SCP 9000 contest opened my eyes to some very grim truths. You see, I put everything I had into my entry, slowly shaping it and nurturing it over the course of a year and more. I passed it around to more critics and invested more time and love into it than any other project that had come before. While I certainly didn't expect it to actually win the contest, I had hoped it would at least surpass my SCP 8000 entry, either in upvotes or ranking. Unfortunately, despite all of my hopes and efforts, this was not the case, and as of the time of this writing, is still not.

"And then we have 'Sir Francis Bacon's Fightin' Genius Time Commandos', which I spent four months writing, researching, and shaping into what I had hoped would be a fun adventure involving time travel and the Mekhanites. Unfortunately, hardly anybody else saw it that way, and it tanked pretty terribly. Between that and the results of 9-kon, my mental and emotional health took a serious blow.  I realized that no matter what I did, I would never really be good enough, or popular enough, and all of my best efforts would languish in mediocrity.  I can't do that anymore. I can't invest months of my life into something only for it to pass and be forgotten -- or worse, cratered into oblivion. Yeah, I wrote SCP-7832, and even contributed to the Murphy Law hub, but on the whole, I was just another statistic that honestly did more good in the forums than the sandboxes. So I'm giving up and moving on.

"Will I ever return? Maybe, if there's a contest or a group collaboration that interests me, but basically, I'm done. But that's only half the reason I asked you all to come here. The other half is because...I owe all of you an apology.

"I can't speak for anyone else, but personally, I think you're all great characters with lots of potential -- and I wasted that. I had so many wonderful plans in store, and such high hopes for all of you, but in the end, I realized I'll never be able to do any of you justice. I'll never be able to give D-50050 his literal moment in the sun, or square off Cuthbert with the Scarlet King, or patch up Letty and Hilde's relationship. And you can forget about that 001 proposal with Bialowieski, and all the other possible articles and tales that I could have written. I'm not good enough for that, and you all deserve so much better than what I can give you. I'm sorry for letting you down like that.

"That's it. That's all I have to say. Here's to all of you."

Toasty raised his glass, drank, and set it down. Then he walked away.

"I'd like to propose my own toast," said Talbot, standing as he raised a glass. He stared firmly at Toasty. "If you don't mind."

Toasty just sighed. "Go ahead."

"I'd like to toast the man who saw fit to make me the Director of Site-203."

He thank drank and politely wiped his mouth.

"And I'd like to toast the man who turned a loser like me into a pretty decent guy."  Wesson stood next, raising his glass and drinking it.

"I'll toast him for bringing my daughter and I closer together," said Riverson.

"I'll toast him for giving me a pretty happy ending," said Medea.

"Speak for yourself," muttered Biancospino. She shrugged and raised her glass. "Ah, well. Here's to recycling me from another story and making me into a pretty cool villain."

"Here's to the man who gave me three lives, and my freedom," said Jay Doe.

"Here's to the man who had some of his articles translated for the Chinese wiki," said Song Hui.

"And the Vietnamese," added Sobolevsky.

"To the man who used me to come to terms with his father's passing," said Bouquet.

"And who made me an Overseer on my very first day," Ampersand chimed in.

"To the one who believed in me, and cherished me, even when nobody else did," said Letty. She looked over at Hilde and smiled.

"And to the man who gave me a best friend when I was least expecting it," she added.

"To the man who gave me life," said Dunharrow.

"And me," said Silva.

"And me," said Liang.

"And me," said Dennison, "as well as a second chance at childhood."

"To the people he entertained with me," said Cuthbert.

SCP-7832 raised a tower of glasses it had constructed. Influence. Massive! Congratulations.

"To [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/choccoman|the friends he made]]] with me," said Paul Bunyan.

"And to the ones who started it all," said Bialowieski.

Eventually everyone chimed in, raising a toast to their creator. He could do nothing but sit back down, sniffle, and smile in awe.

"Thanks, everyone," he whispered. "I don't deserve it."

In unison, they raised their glasses one more time, proclaiming, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOASTY!"

Toasty wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He limply raised his glass again and set it down. Bialowieski and Talbot approached him, both of them carrying a wrapped box.

"We actually have a present for you. I think it's something you've wanted."

Toasty smiled and thanked them humbly. He carefully opened both boxes, finding a sawed-off shotgun in one and a chainsaw in the other. He grinned and wept again as he reverently took them out, one in each hand.

"Go on," Ampersand said, grinning as she nudged him. "Say the line."

Toasty sniffled and quickly wiped his eyes. His face glowed as he whirled the shotgun and slung it into a holster on his back, the camera slowly panning in on him. He held the chainsaw before him and whispered in a low growl:

**"GROOVY!"**

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The party was beginning to die down a little. People were eating less, playing fewer games, and evidently hooking up with each other (because what's a party without an awkward drunken love exchange?). Levi and Guillaume were still ice-skating, Riverson and Szabo were finding more excuses to "be alone" with each other, Bouquet and Bodmall were invested in some serious "co-op" games, and even D-50050 looked like he had made a new friend as he gravitated to Letty. Toasty just watched, happy for everyone. Medea sidled up to him.

"You're not going to hook up with anybody?"

"Are you kidding?" he scoffed. "Even in my own ego-boosting story, I don't have any luck. Besides, who would I hook up with? Riverson's flirting with Szabo, Silverberg doesn't want anything to do with my fourth-wall humor, and everyone else is either too old, too young, or not even remotely human."

She smiled pitifully at him. Then she scooted closer.

"And what about dangerously unstable wild women with a tragic past and the wisdom of eons?"  She smirked at him, and he got the hint.

"Seriously? You think I have a chance?"

"Should I dye my hair red, or wear glasses?"  Toasty chuckled at her.

"No, you're perfect just the way you are."

She scooted even closer, until they were hip-to-hip.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. Truly. It's not often I'm around anyone so sincere..."

"Hey, is this seat taken?" Liath Cairill of the Chaos Insurgency staggered over and plopped herself down, draping an arm over Toasty's shoulder. She pointed to him, her one good eye leering. "I heard you like redheads. Do you fancy unpredictable women, too?"

"Um, well," he stammered, "Medea here is already sort if into me, I think..."

"Oh, don't mind me," she said, waving dismissively. "Liath and I are acquainted, remember?"  She winked at the other woman, who stared dully until sobriety took over.

"Oh. Yeah, I remember. So you're really the witch Medea, huh? Big fan. We could use someone like you on our side."

"Emphasis on 'use'," Medea purred playfully. Liath blushed; Toasty's eyes widened.

"Uh...is this happening? Am I actually... I mean, //both// of you?"

"I'm game," Liath shrugged, "though I hope you're into scars and muscles."

"Yes!" Toasty croaked. "Yes I am!"

"And deranged mass-murderers with a heart of gold?" Medea added. Toasty grinned.

"Ladies, please! I know it's my birthday and all, but..."

They laughed and totally sprawled all over him, going in for a steamy three-way makeout sess--

PLOP!

A key lime pie splattered all over Medea's face.

"Got her!" shouted Henry Green. Medea angrily cleaned herself off.

"Hermes, you filthy Cretin! Why, I oughta..."

Medea picked up a nearby pecan pie and tossed it at him. Hank ducked down at the last second; the pie landed square on Phillipe Offet. Medea panicked.

"Whoops! Sorry, Phillipe!"

Offet angrily wiped his face clean. He reached over and plucked up a lemon meringue.

"PIIIIIIIIIE FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!"

He threw the pie at Liath, hitting her square in the back of her head. Toasty reached for a blueberry pie.

"Hey! That's my future girlfriend!"  He threw it and hit Dennison, who had just gotten back from ice-skating. Dennison snarled.

"Oh, a wise guy, eh?" He reached over and hucked a rhubarb, accidentally hitting Ampersand. She screamed and returned fire, hitting Schulen. Everyone soon made a rush for the dessert table, picking up pies and throwing them at each other, until the air was saturated with sugary missiles. A pie landed square on Song Hui's face; he wiped it off only for another pie to hit him; he squealed angrily, wiped it off, and got hit again. As he cleaned himself off, Anatol Sobolevsky approached him with a custard pie. Song ducked down, chuckling impertinently, but Anatol ducked down with him, smacking him with a pie.

"Don't worry, sir!" Bodmall shouted, shielding Bouquet with her body. Several pies had already found their mark on her, while the former director was still clean. "I'll keep them off you! Just find a safe place!"

"Hey, Iseult?"  She turned around, only for him to smile and throw a pumpkin pie on her face. She angrily wiped it off and reached for a blueberry. "Wait!" he cried, "I'm a victim of circumstance!"

She threw it at him anyway. He patiently cleaned himself off, and they laughed at each other.

"Here, Dolphin!" Szabo tossed Amanda a pie, which she launched with deadly accuracy from her perch. More pies were tossed her way; she downed Paul Bunyan and Baron Munchhausen before hitting one more person. Lucille Riverson angrily approached the two, smothered in peaches.

"Amanda! We need to have a talk!"

"Sorry, mom," she giggled. Szabo snickered.

"She's totally not sorry. Mmm, but you look //good// covered in pie crust and fruit filling!"  Szabo curled up to her, tracing a finger over Riverson's neck. The other woman blushed furiously, but before anything could happen, a salvo of coconut cream pies fell on Szabo. Amanda floated overhead, giggling.

"Nailed her!"

The two women glared at each other, nodded in unison, and reached for a catapult with an oversized novelty cherry pie on it. Amanda panicked and tried floating away...

"FIRE!!!!"

The enormous pie hurled through the air, narrowly missing its target by a hair. It landed squarely on Veridas, burying him. Then he exploded. Everyone applauded.

"Now //that//," Szabo pointed, "is what I call a damn good cherry pie!"

The pie fight continued as more desserts were tossed willy-nilly. SCP-7832 wasn't used to throwing away perfectly good building material, but soon got the gist of the game, and tossed twisted and bizarre amalgamations of pie at anyone it saw. Claire got nailed in the head as she tried running for cover; Talbot got creamed...with, uh...cream...Letty and Hilde stood back-to-back as they fired off, and someone threw a pie directly at the camera, causing everything to temporarily go black.

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------

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(//The lights come back on, showing a large American flag in the background. A reveille with trumpets plays as a figure marches up, wearing the uniform of a five-star General. He is resplendent with decorations and medals. He carries a riding crop in one hand, and salutes proudly with the other. The figure is revealed to be Joriah Cuthbert.//)

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[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/IMG_7116.jpg]]

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**Cuthbert:**  Be seated, wak.

(//The sound of various people taking their seats is heard. Cuthbert puts his paws behind his back, pacing back and forth on the stage.//)

**Cuthbert:**  Now, I want you all to remember, that nobody ever won a war by getting hit in the face with an apple pie. They won it by making the other poor dumb schmuck get hit in the face with an apple pie! Friends, all this stuff you've heard about me not wanting to fight, about staying out of the pie toss, is a lot of horse dung! Platypuses traditionally //love// to throw pies! All //real// platypuses love the sting of bat--

(//Suddenly, the pie fight breaks through the outer wall, spilling into the auditorium. Several people run towards Cuthbert, armed with pies.//)

**Cuthbert:**  Waaaak! Not in the bill! Not in the bill!

(//Suddenly, a hand yanks Cuthbert up, dislodging some medals. Cuthbert is briefly relieved until he looks into the face of his savior.//)

**Cuthbert:**  Waak!  It's you!

(//Senior Containment Specialist Anatole Levye grins at him cruelly.//)

**Levye:**  Yes, it's me! Toasty didn't invite me to his party (along with probably like five other people he forgot about), so I decided to crash it! Now I shall have my revenge!

(//Levye points a lingonberry pie at Cuthbert as the crowd surrounds him.//)

**Levye:**  Back off! Back off, I said, or the platypus gets it!

(//The crowd stops//.)

**D-50050:**  (//reading woodenly from a script//) Oh no will not someone. Stop him and save that poor. Platypus. The poor thing.

**Ampersand:**  Do it!

(//Levye grins maniacally, wide-eyed and delirious. Suddenly, a drawer launches at him, knocking him over.//)

**Toasty:**  Whoa, what the Sam Scratch?

(//More drawers are launched into the room, breaking down the wall. A group of elderly pirates swing in, armed with fan blades and pointed check spindles//.)

**Letty:**  Oh, no! It's the Crimson Permanent Assurance!

**Liath:**  Not again!

**Szabo:**  You and your Monty Python jokes!

(//She is immediately leveled by another drawer.//)

(//The elderly pirates storm the room, mixing in with the pie fight.//)

**Toasty:**  Oh, jeez. I apologize for this, folks. Things seem to have gotten out of hand with my birthday. I really don't see any way out of this.

(//Visuals cut to outer space, Sauelsuesor still pointing as an object soars through the cosmos. It is revealed to be a killer meteor wearing a ten-gallon Stetson hat.//)

**Meteor:**  WOOOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOOO!  WHEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAA!  YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOO!  WOOOOOOO-WHEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAAAA!  WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--

(//Sauelsuesor continues to point as the killer meteor impacts the planet Earth, exploding it forever. She watches in dismay and disbelief for a moment before smacking herself in the face with her hand.//)

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------

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= //Later//...

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= //At camp//...

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"And that was how I saved Switzerland!"

Mister Toasty stood before a campfire, smiling at a group of anxious-looking children. Due to the amount of distress clearly showing on their faces, it was highly likely that Toasty coerced all of them to be there under rather unscrupulous terms.

"Now," he exclaimed, "who wants frosty chocolate milkshakes?"

Before anything could happen, a clap of thunder and a blast of lightning ignited the sky. Time and space were torn asunder as [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6149|a blue 1968 Volkswagon van]]] erupted from thin air, barreling down the grass and skidding to a loud halt. Toasty stared at it in amazement as plumes of icy smoke wafted and curled around it, and the driver-side door hurled open, issuing a crazed man.

"Hey! Get in, nerd! We're going on an adventure!"

"Traveler!" Toasty exclaimed. A man waved at him casually from the passenger-side door. "Passenger! It can't be! I thought I sent you two back to the Ghost of Christmas Future!"

"You did, Kemosabe," Traveler said, his eyes livid and wild. "You did! But we're back! We're back //from// the Ghost of Christmas Future!"

Toasty stood in awe and bewilderment, hardly able to stand.

"Great Scott!"

The side door slid open. Toasty rubbed his hands together enthusiastically.

"Okay! Let's do this!"  He eagerly hopped in, noticing a third man opposite him. It was the only other person he hadn't invited to his party, Foundation Agent Dana Allen.

"Hey there, Toasty! Welcome to the party!"

"Hey, Allen," he replied, the enthusiasm gone from his voice. An Alan Silvestri score stirred to life as all the doors closed and Traveler hopped back into the driver's seat.

"Wait a minute, man," said Passenger. "We didn't bring any toads with us. How are we going to get a psychedelic high without them?"

"Toads?" Traveler said, stone-cold sober as he flipped his shades on. "Where we're going, we don't need to lick...toads!"

The Silvestri score flourished to a crescendo as the van roared to life, engines firing, wheels burning, Toasty grinning with excitement as Traveler slammed his foot on the gas...

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And it sputtered. The score came to a dead stop. Everything froze.

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"Huh," Traveler grunted, "that's never happened before." He churned the key in the ignition again, pumping the brakes impatiently. The van kept stalling.

"Come on, man, give it some gas," Passenger said.

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing! Any minute now, the old girl will..."

The engine grumbled stubbornly. The van shook with Traveler's efforts but continued to lay dormant. He cursed and pleaded, but nothing happened. Toasty sighed.

"Have you tried jiggling something?"

"Check under the hood, I'll bet the toads got stuck there," Passenger advised.

"Is it the battery?" Allen said. "Did you remember to gas it up?"

"Everyone in the peanut gallery be quiet!" Traveler barked. "That's not how this baby works! I just gotta...find...the sweet spot..."

He kept turning the key and pumping the gas. The engine continued to grumble. The van was lifeless.

"Does anybody know a good towing service?" Passenger sighed. He took out a cell phone, but Traveler snatched it away.

"Wait! Hold on! I know just the guy to call for moments like these!"  Traveler muttered to himself as he dialed the number, then continued to mutter while simultaneously jamming a cigarette in his mouth. "Come on, pick up," he whispered, tapping the wheel impatiently with his free hand.


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[[div style="font-family: Courier; font-weight: bold"]]
FADE IN:

INT. MURPHY LAW'S OFFICE, NOON

A thick cloud of smoke billows into view, and at its center sits a man, surrounded by a half-filled glass of whiskey, the bottle it came from, an ashtray with four spent cigarettes, and small stacks of papers, two of which are currently nestled in his hands.  He is casually flipping between the pages, seemingly paying no attention to their contents, throwing some into a nearby wastebasket while adding others to a pile.

= __NARRATOR__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
For anybody out there who thinks that a private detective's life is nothing but glamor, guns, gin, and girls, I've got a coupla bitter pills for them to swallow. Most of my work's done in the office, making love to some worn-out old typewriter, or shoving a beaten-up pen full of dry ink around on a scratch of paper. Today was no different, or at least it woulda been, if it weren't for...
[[/div]]

A telephone rings. The man stops what he is doing, drops the papers on his desk, and picks up the receiver with disdain. He is MURPHY LAW:  hard, handsome, his voice a harsh growl, and he is about to give the unfortunate soul on the other end a bit of the business.

= __MURPHY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Murphy Law detective agency.
[[/div]]

= __TRAVELER__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Hi! Mr. Law! I... Shut up, I'm on the phone! Yes, he picked up! Yes, it's really Murphy Law!
[[/div]]

= __MURPHY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Hey, pal, or whoever this is, I hope for your sake that this isn't a prank call. I'm a bit tied up at the moment and not in the mood for any funny business.
[[/div]]

= __TRAVELER__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Oh! Oh no, Mr. Law, this is strictly professional! You see, our van broke down and -- shut up, I'm telling him! Will you be... Ahem! Yes, err, our van broke down, and we were sort of hoping that since you're the expert on solving problems when everything that could go wrong, HAS...
[[/div]]

MURPHY sighs with the weariness of a man beleaguered beyond the capacity for description.

= __MURPHY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Listen, Mister, uh...
[[/div]]

= __TRAVELER__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
I am a traveler of the cosmos, on an eternal journey of insight, elucidation, and transcendental illumination!
[[/div]]

There is a slight pause. MURPHY pinches the bridge of his nose.

= __MURPHY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Right. Mr. Traveler. I can solve a lot of problems, but vehicular issues aren't one of them. Maybe you should consider a mechanic, or a towing service...
[[/div]]

= __TRAVELER__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
But you're our only hope, Mr. Law! The van! She won't! BUDGE! We're giving it all we've got!
[[/div]]

MURPHY sighs.

= __MURPHY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Have you tried jiggling something?
[[/div]]

A voice calls out in the background.

= __TOASTY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
That's what I suggested!
[[/div]]

The voices become an intermingled melange of noise. MURPHY growls softly and hangs up the phone, then takes another swig from his glass.

= __MURPHY__
[[div class="blockquote"]]
I'm getting too old for this.
[[/div]]

FADE OUT.
[[/div]]

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"Well?" Passenger pressed. "What did Same Spade say?"

Traveler frowned as he handed the cell phone back. "I'm afraid we're on our own, boys. Not to worry, I think I almost have it this time. Maybe if I turn the ignition and pump the brakes and gas in a certain pattern..."

Traveler continued to try and revive the van, while Passenger yawned. Toasty and Allen just looked at each other.

"Never thought I'd end my stint as an SCP writer by being stuck here," Toasty said. Allen smiled sympathetically.

"Yeah. Still, Happy Birthday, Adam."

"Thanks, Dana."

Toasty sighed, rolled down a window, and looked out at the stars as the last of the sun's light faded on the horizon. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes.


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------

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= __CAST OF CHARACTERS__

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/48200544596_3c2ec7e371_b.jpg
|caption=SCP-6149
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Traveler, Passenger, Reuben Bialowieski, D-50050 (Denham Lowell), Zhishen Liang, Kimberly Silva, Maureen Dunharrow

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/russian_busby_kgb_moscow_soviet_style_russia_man_hat-840825.jpg
|caption=SCP-6683
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Anatol Sobolevsky, Natalia Yegorova

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/lost-places-old-decay-ruin-preview.jpg
|caption=SCP-7327
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Levi Dennison, Rashid Safir, D-50050 (Denham Lowell)

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/sign.jpg
|caption=SCP-7359
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= The Wolf/The Emotivore/Jay Doe

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/De_Morgan_Medea.jpg
|caption=SCP-7632
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= Medea, Phillipe Offet, Hubert van der Miir

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/Dore-munchausen-illustration.jpg
|caption=SCP-7784
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= Baron Hieronymus Karl Friedrich Freiherr von Münchhausen, Phillipe Offet

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/-_complexity_%281%29_-_Flickr_-_nerovivo.jpg
|caption=SCP-7832
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= The Amalgamation

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/1200px-Taoist_priest_wudang.JPG
|caption=SCP-7942
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Song Hui, Prof. Gongsung Sheng

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/Duck-billed_platypus_%28Ornithorhynchus_anatinus%29_Scottsdale_3.jpg
|caption=SCP-8042
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Joriah Shenandoah Cuthbert, Natalia Szabo

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/Arthur_and_the_Questing_Beast_%28full%29.jpg
|caption=SCP-8089
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= The Questing Beast, Lamerock Emile Bouquet, Iseult Bodmall, Phillipe Offet

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/Telephone1913.jpg
|caption=SCP-8479
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= Henry Green/Mercury, Reuben Bialowieski

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/11884158495_6136a39fba_c.jpg
|caption=SCP-8514
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Paul Bunyan, Raven Croft Wesson, Rhonda Smith, Dana Ebony, Dana Allen, Harold Dyne, Benjamin Garland

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/Rembrandt_-_The_Anatomy_Lesson_of_Dr_Nicolaes_Tulp.jpg
|caption=SCP-8543
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Llewellyn Eames, Maya Sarasvati, Rashid Safir, D-50050 (Denham Lowell)

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/pencil_pencils_eraser_school_supplies_office_supplies-641426.jpg
|caption=SCP-8643
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Maxim Veridas, Claire Douglas, Romia Biancospino, Liath Cairill, Anatole Levye

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/walk-on-the-ceiling-legs-girl-preview.jpg
|caption=SCP-8663
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= Amanda & Lucille Riverson, Cecil A. Talbot, Zhishen Liang

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/070104-F-9099S-002.JPG
|caption=SCP-8840
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= Adele Aloysius Ampersand, Conrad Shulen, Moira Silverberg, Cecil A. Talbot, Guillaume Humboldt

@@ @@

[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/98a92a6e98d1a1a4c98a72c9493e-1456593-edit.jpg
|caption=SCP-9199
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= Francesca Brisoletti, Hildegard Kemper

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/Chaos%2C_klid_a_utrzky_zdraveho_rozumu.jpg
|caption=SCP-9832
|width=230px
|align=center]]

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= The Amalgamation

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= **SCP-621-EX**

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= Guillaume Humboldt, Lucille Riverson

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= And [[*user (Mister_Toasty)]]...

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[[include component:image-block
|name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/toastybday/20251010_220429.jpg
|caption=It's a me-a
|width=200px
|align=center]]

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= With special guests: various members of the O5 Council, SCP-179, SCP-208, SCP-423, SCP-682, SCP-1111, SCP-2747, SCP-3143, SCP-3456, SCP-3700, Placeholder McDoctorate, and Dr. Wondertainment.

@@ @@

= And of course, extra special thanks to everyone who ever had anything to do with any of my articles.

@@ @@

= //Live long and prosper.//

@@ @@

= //So long, space cowboy.//

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= //Goonies never say die.//

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= And as always...

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= //Keep circulating the tapes!//

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------

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Toasty opened his eyes again. Traveler was still trying to coax the van to life, but it kept on stalling.

"Well," said Dana Allen, "at least this isn't [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-621-ex|the worst birthday you've ever had]]]."

Everyone else looked up at each other, then glared at him and screamed:

"SHUT UP, ALLEN!!!!"

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= __THE END__

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------

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
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> **Author:  Jonathan Cutrer
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> **Name:** russian_busby_kgb_moscow_soviet_style_russia_man_hat-840825
> **Author:**  n/a
> **License:** CC0 Public Domain
> **Source Link:** [https://pxhere.com/en/photo/840825]
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> **Filename: 5731695062_993ae0fbfd_b
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> **License: CC BY-SA 2.0
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> **Name:** De_Morgan_Medea
> **Author:** Evelyn de Morgan/Karen Arnold
> **License:** CC0 Public Domain
> **Source Link:** [https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/en/view-image.php?image=446649&picture=woman-medea-vintage-art]
=====
> **Filename: Dore-munchausen-illustration
> **Author:  Gustave Doré
> **License: CC0 Public Domain
> **Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dore-munchausen-illustration.jpg
=====
> **Filename:** -_complexity_(1)_-_Flickr_-_nerovivo
> **Name:** - complexity (1) - Flickr - nerovivo.jpg
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> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
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> **Name:** Duck-billed platypus (Ornithorhynchus anatinus) Scottsdale 3.jpg
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> **License:** Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International
> **Source Link:** [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Duck-billed_platypus_%28Ornithorhynchus_anatinus%29_Scottsdale_3.jpg]
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> **License:** CC0 Public Domain
> **Source Link:** [https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Arthur_and_the_Questing_Beast_%28full%29.jpg]
=====
> **Filename:** Telephone1913
> **Author:**  Sijthoff Publishers  
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source Link:** https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Telephone1913.jpg
=====
> **Filename:** 11884158495_6136a39fba_c
> **Name**: Bearded Lumberjack Look
> **Author:**    Mike Mozart
> **License:** CC BY 2.0
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=====
> **Filename:** Rembrandt_-_The_Anatomy_Lesson_of_Dr_Nicolaes_Tulp
> **Name**: The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp
> **Author:**    Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn
> **License:**  Public Domain
> **Source Link:** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Anatomy_Lesson_of_Dr._Nicolaes_Tulp
=====
> **Filename:** pencil_pencils_eraser_school_supplies_office_supplies-641426
> **Author:**   unknown
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source Link:** https://pxhere.com/en/photo/641426
=====
> **Filename:** https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8663/walk-on-the-ceiling-legs-girl-preview.jpg
> **Name:** walk-on-the-ceiling-legs-girl-preview
> **Author:** N/A
> **License:** CC0 / Public Domain
> **Source Link:** https://www.pickpik.com/walk-on-the-ceiling-legs-girl-pants-beauty-71662
=====
> **Filename:** 070104-F-9099S-002.JPG
> **Name:** "AFRL seeks improved TBI rehabilitation"
> **Author:**  Chris Gulliford AFRLHE  
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source Link:** [https://www.wpafb.af.mil/News/Photos/igphoto/2000511382/]
=====
> **Filename:** 98a92a6e98d1a1a4c98a72c9493e-1456593-EDIT
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> **License:** CC0 Public Domain
> **Source Link:** [https://pxhere.com/en/photo/1456593]
=====
> **Filename:** Chaos,_klid_a_utrzky_zdraveho_rozumu
> **Author:** Alena Koenigsmarková
> **License:** Public domain
> **Source Link:** https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Chaos,_klid_a_utrzky_zdraveho_rozumu.jpg
=====
> **Filename:** 20251010_220429
> **Name:** 20251010_220429
> **Author:**  Toasty (me)
> **License:** My own picture.
> **Source Link:** n/a
=====
> **Filename:** IMG_7116
> **Author:**  choccoman
> **License:** Artist permission
> **Source Link:** n/a
=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]
Happy Birthday, Mister Toasty!

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