- Romantic Sarkicism
- untitled
- All that Whinnies
- Manic Pixie Dream Pie
- Lazy Daisy
- Pie was a Mistake
- Pie is Wrong
- Siteswap
- Stupid Cupid
Cults surrounding the rejection of carnality and Sarkic flesh rituals and the embracing of empathy and Sarkic psionics.
Stacker SCP idea:
A bartender that changes form and can produce different non-anomalous drinks depending on who they're facing.
Logs include: testing with D-Class for different forms and drinks produced and an interview with a researcher.
- drinks produced are taken from different real sources but is limited when it comes to anomalous materials
- so-and-so at their job
- never learned how to make anomalous drinks or gather materials outside of normalcy.
- is an asshole that was fired by Stacker for repeated sexual harassment of a fellow bartender
- misses open mic night
SCP-XXXX-1 crystal growths.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be housed in a communal equine containment stable. Only personnel who have not engaged in sexual intercourse1 are allowed within line of sight of SCP-XXXX. In the threat of a containment breach, SCP-XXXX personnel are to sing to pacify it. Antivenom XXXX-A is to be administered to personnel afflicted by SCP-XXXX-1.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a venomous equine, similar in appearance to an Arabian horse2, with a single large pointed horn at the center of its forehead making it resemble a unicorn of European folklore. SCP-XXXX's horn can deliver an anomalous silica-based venom designated SCP-XXXX-1 upon puncturing the skin. SCP-XXXX has anomalous strength and its kicks are strong enough to knock down reinforced metal doors. Its leg power also allows it to scale 90-degree surfaces. When not in the presence of other equine animals, SCP-XXXX becomes agitated and may attempt to breach containment. When a humanoid subject who has engaged in sexual intercourse is allowed within SCP-XXXX's line of sight, it will enter an extremely hostile state. During this state, SCP-XXXX will chase the subject and attempt to inject SCP-XXXX-1 through its horn into the offender's body. SCP-XXXX will then attempt to breach containment and continue to hunt any non-virgin humanoids within 1.5 kilometers. In this state, SCP-XXXX can be pacified by the singing of a virgin. (see Addendum: Incident XXXX-Aleph)
SCP-XXXX-1 contains compounds designated as unicotoxins. SCP-XXXX-1 is injected into an offending subject's bloodstream where it transmutes blood and tissue into luminescent particles and crystals. Symptoms usually appear within a few minutes to a few hours after gouging and may include:
- Severe, immediate pain
- Crystal growths on the skin
- Discoloration of the skin
- Luminescent bleeding
- Vomiting with reflective particles
- Mild confusion
- A minty, sweet, or sour taste in the mouth
- Numbness or tingling the gouge area
- Signs of shock
Collected particles and crystal growths are variations of quartz and have no further known anomalies.
Addendum: Discovery
SCP-XXXX was found loose in an abandoned shipping freighter bound for Rheims, France. Initial retrieval attempts were unsuccessful until the nature of SCP-XXXX was ascertianed.
Addendum: Incident XXXX-Alpha
SCP-XXXX breached containment on 08/06/2018. SCP-XXXX's rampage was unwittingly halted when it heard custodian Patrisha Wacker singing to herself as she cleaned the restroom facilities. SCP-XXXX was pacified and this allowed Ms. Wacker to successfully lead SCP-XXXX back to its stable.
Addendum: Interview with D-199815
Interviewed: D-199815
Interviewer: Dr. Yu
Foreword: During testing, D-199815 had lied on their application and was attacked by SCP-XXXX. SCP-XXXX breached containment. 2 killed. 7 injured.
<Begin Log 10:32:56>Dr. Yu: D-199815.
D-199815: It's D 19 98-
Dr. Yu: You really want to argue about how to pronounce your identification?D-199815: Yeah, fine. Whatever… [Subject vomits on the floor] What's up doc?
Dr. Yu: Ugh! Someone get the janitor!
<Interview delayed for clean-up of the area.>
Dr. Yu: Before we began this experiment we explained to you what SCP-XXXX was and what we were testing. Correct?D-199815: XYYY…? Oh, the pretty unicorn? Yeah… [Subject smiles excessively wide]
Dr. Yu: You were asked if you ever engaged in any intimate acts with another partner.D-199815: Yup.
Dr. Yu: You were also informed that it was very imperative that you answered truthfully.D-199815: [Subject stifles a burp] …yeah.
Dr. Yu: And your response was no.D-199815: I said I’ve never had sex.
Dr. Yu: What is that supposed to mean?D-199815: [Subject spits up reflective particles] Butt stuff doesn’t count.
Dr. Yu: … Do you fully understand the ramifications of what you have done?
D-199815: I’ve got mystic crystals growing out of me. My skin is turning purple. My blood glows in the freak’n dark. I’m throwing up sparkle magic fluid and I got to pet a unicorn. This is the worst and best day of my entire life. Twelve year old me would be so proud right now.
Dr. Yu: Oh for the love of…
<End Log 10:45:12>Closing Statement: Out of survivors attacked by SCP-XXXX, only D-199815 was able to survive the affliction. From their antibodies, Antivenom XXXX-A was developed and future losses have been prevented. Side effects of the antivenom include tendencies to: get lost in thought, talk to oneself and inanimate objects, unrealistic optimism, and compulsive daydreaming. These symptoms last no more than a few days.
Once fully recovered D-199815 was amnesticized and re-circulated into the D-Class pool.
Addendum: Incident XXXX-Beta
On 12/29/18 a woman in medieval Parisian clothing appeared on Site-XX and visited the entrance to SCP-XXXX's stable. The woman did not attempt to enter the containment stable and appeared to be crying. The entity vanished leaving behind a golden necklace, a pennant, and an ornate mirror. Research into the items and the entity is ongoing.
Author Page
A pie that goes by Harry, Lorenzo or Pie. All are true. All are false.
Works. Links. Pies.
The sun sets over the horizon painting the site rooftop a rich orange.
North traces Cimmerian’s silhouette. A day studying another person’s every detail is routine. Each edge and curve is an advantage to be used. Or at least it should be. North finds that Cimmerian’s shape is turning his heart into a nervous pulp.
“Are you profiling me?” Cimmerian sips his coffee.
“Yea- oh shit!” North nearly knocks over his juice. “It’s a, uh, bad habit.”
“Well, a date is for getting to know someone. What do you see?”
North racks his brain. “Cimmerian, Jeremiah. A big red burn scar on half your body. [get more data on Cimmerian]
One minute you’re filing paperwork, next minute you’re shot by a mind-affecting love baby, and a few minutes after that, you’re on a date with… Cimmerian.
Adam Daniel San Lopez is held captive by a Filino Anomalous Mafia Gang because of his pie recipe.
Recipe turned gang leader's daughter into pie?
Adam is forced to produce anomalous items for the mafia. (Gang has a reality bender? idk maybe)
Adam asks for help from Sedric/The Foundation?
Mafia turns Adam into a pie person but they don't tell him how to reverse it.
SCP-4628: Pie is Wrong
Author: pieiswrong
Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:22-pie_crimped.jpg
License: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Unbaked SCP-4628-1
Item #: SCP-4628
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: The recipe for SCP-4628-1 is Level 3/4628 Classified.
SCP-4628-2 are to be kept in standard humanoid containment cells. SCP-4628-2 are to wear protective airtight suits at all times. SCP-4628-2 are to attend mandatory remedial and reversal classes. If an accident results in a gross loss of mass to an SCP-4628-2, Site 17 Kitchen Staff are required to be able to reproduce SCP-4628-1 for reintegration.
Preventive action "Operation Pi Day3" is to be conducted every March 14.
Description: SCP-4628-1 is a type of pie crust made with an anomalous recipe titled “Pi Crust for Dummies”. When SCP-4628-1 is ingested, the subject will transform into a pliable light brown entity composed of a mixture of butter, flour, salt, and water similar in consistency to unbaked pie crust. Entities are collectively known as SCP-4628-2. SCP-4628-1’s anomaly only affects humans who have been exposed to the idea of the circle constant pi. Subjects with the belief that pi is inelegant are unaffected. SCP-4628-1's effects are reversible. See Document #: 4628-A1 Reversal Procedure.
SCP-4628-2 retain sapience, speech, and the mass of their original person. SCP-4628-2 do not need to perform any human bodily functions. SCP-4628-2 exposed to the air for long periods of time show signs of staleness associated with pie dough and air exposure. Extended exposure may result in loss of mass via crumbling. SCP-4628-2 can also lose mass via friction, trauma, or contact with other SCP-4628-2. When an SCP-4628-2 is reduced to about 20% of its mass, it will lose sentience. Warped speech and slow vocalizations are signs of an SCP-4628-2 losing too much mass. Separated mass can be reintegrated into an SCP-4628-2's body. SCP-4628-1 also works as a substitute if the lost mass is unrecoverable.
Document #: 4628-A1 Reversal Procedure
To reverse the effects of SCP-4628-1, an SCP-4628-2 must be able to reason why pi as a concept of geometry and trigonometry is aesthetically displeasing or inefficient. To achieve this, SCP-4628 are required to attend remedial and reversal classes. Remedial classes begin with Introduction to Geometry, Area, and Unit Squares and any necessary supplementary lessons. SCP-4628 are required to pass remedial classes to qualify for reversal classes. Reversal classes include teachings from π is Wrong! by Bob Palais, The Tau Manifesto by Michael Hartl, and the Pi Is (still) Wrong series by Victoria Hart. Average SCP-4628-2 can reverse within 1 month of containment under the Foundation curriculum. Special cases have been under remedial classes for upwards of 6 months. An SCP-4628-2 that has reversed but has its preference against pi amnesticized reverts to anomalous dough form.
Document #: 4628-A2 Discovery
The Foundation has been aware of SCP-4628-1 and SCP-4628-2 since its first recorded outbreak on March 14, 2002. The process to reverse SCP-4628-1's anomalous effects as well as its origin came to Foundation awareness three months after the first SCP-4628-2 were contained. On June 28, 2002, an envelope manifested on Anomalous Mathematics researcher Sedric Felizardo’s desk at Site 17. Inside was a letter revealing SCP-4628-1's recipe's author, the author's motives, and how to reverse SCP-4628-1's effects. Along with the letter was a separate document detailing the complete recipe of SCP-4628-1. Testing of reversal procedures was approved immediately after receiving this information. Successful reversal tests led to the implementation of the current containment and reversal procedures. SCP-4628-1's recipe was theorized to have been leaked by its author to the anomalous black-market channels shortly after this development.
Document #: 4628-A3 Letter addressed to researcher Felizardo on June 28, 2002.
Dear Sedric,
Fuck pi.
What a joke of a circle constant.
Math is supposed to be easy, beautiful, elegant.
Pi makes math look ugly.
Definition: a circle is a collection of all points a given distance away from a center.
A radius pointing forth like a taut string in the sand.
It draws a curved path as far as its shadow in the sun will take it.
You watch it spin and marvel at its simple beauty,
and the crashing waves,
and the sea birds' calls,
and your lover in your arms.
But Archimedes said "fuck the radius!"
Pi is the ratio of a circle’s diameter to its circumference.
Diameter?? Who fucking cares about diameters Archimedes??
Maybe if you need to jump over a fucking pit,
BUT NOT IN THE HUMAN RACE'S THEORETICAL SPACE OF MATH.
Fuck diameters.
A circle is defined by its radius, not its diameter.
Why the fuck is the circle constant based on the diameter?
Why is 1π in radians a half circle? Who cares about half circles?
Why is a whole circle 2π radians?
NO. UNNECESSARY CONVERSIONS ARE UGLY.
ONE PIE SHOULD BE ONE PI.
No one cares.
It’s not like they’ll need a correct circle constant in the real world.
I care.
I know you care too.
Every March 14th is agony.
Pi is fucking wrong.
I’m sorry Sedric.
I got angry.
I made the pie.
I promise the people don’t feel any pain.
I just need them to learn.
If they learn the truth,
the true circle constant,
only then can they be forgiven.
Fuck pi.
Fuck Pi Day.
Fuck Archimedes.
Fuck this world.
I’m fixing it.
- All my love, Adam I’m still here for you.
Note: Researcher Felizardo claims that the author of the recipe is known Anomalous Language and Anomalous Mathematics extremist Dr. Adam Daniel San Lopez. Felizardo had worked closely with San Lopez in a small faction of anomalous educators in their home country before Felizardo was recruited into the Foundation. San Lopez’s current whereabouts are unknown.
Document #: 4628-A4 SCP-4628-1 Recipe received on June 28, 2002.
Pi Crust for Dummies
[Handwritten below the title:] It's so easy, even the ignorant can fucking make it.
Materials:
Medium mixing bowl
Rolling pin
Fork
Plastic wrap or wax paper
Glass pie plate
Latent homophonic meta-actuality descriptors: pi/pie (4)
Ingredients:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup unsalted butter, very cold
5-7 tablespoons ice water
Ignorance of the truth of pi/Knowledge of the truth of tau
Step 1: Mixing Dough
Note:
Channel your ignorance or knowledge into the entirety of the dough creation.
Consciously or subconsciously is fine.
1. Combine flour and salt in the bowl and mix very well.
2. Using the fork, chop the butter into chunks into the bowl.
3. Mix until the ingredients are integrated but still coarse. Pea-sized bits should still be visible.
4. Sprinkle ice water while mixing (1 tablespoon at a time)
5. Add water until the mixture is soft enough to shape but not too wet.
Step 2: Shaping Dough
Note:
Your channeling should have infused the dough with enough energy to trigger the latent homophonic meta-actuality in the dough's true name.
At this stage, the dough is now active.
1. Shape dough into 2 balls.
2. Flatten each ball into a disc.
3. Wrap well in plastic wrap or wax paper and let chill in the fridge for 30 minutes.
4. Remove the dough and let it sit for 5 minutes outside the fridge before rolling.
Step 3: Rolling Pie Crusts
Note:
The shape of the dough does not actually matter in incurring an active homophonic reaction from another human. I don't really care, but traditionally pie crusts must be rolled flat and filled.
1. Sprinkle flour on your workspace and rolling pin.
2. Roll 1 ball of dough flat. It must be big enough to line your pie plate.
3. Lift and place into pie plate.
4. Roll the second ball of dough flat similarly and put aside.
5. Fill your pies however you want, lift the second crust onto the top.
6. Bake your pies however you want. I really don't care.
7. Feed another person and watch the conformists turn into pie crust. Happy Pi Day.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is Level 4/XXXX Classified. SCP-XXXX-1 are to be kept in standard temporal/spatial hazard containment. Only three (3) instances of SCP-XXXX-1 are allowed per site. Up to one hundred (100) Spatial Transfer Chains are allowed per site and per destination. Translocation requests require the approval of the Foundation Relocations Committee.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a series of kinetoglyphs that when performed will transfer matter from one area to another. SCP-XXXX is performed with three 4-D hyperspheres designated SCP-XXXX-1. SCP-XXXX's motions are most similar to a juggling pattern. The transfer radius and effective range of SCP-XXXX can be scaled indefinitely using Spatial Transfer Chains.
SCP-XXXX-1 are the 3-dimensional representations of 4-dimensional hyperspheres held in 4-D Pocket Dimension PD-e65lu92. Representations of SCP-XXXX-1 are 65mm in diameter and weigh 120 grams. Representations appear as a stack of spheres overlayed on top of each other. In PD-e65lu92, SCP-XXXX-1 follow hyperbolic topology and geometry. PD-e65lu92 currently houses over 5,000,000 instances of SCP-XXXX-1.
Discovery: SCP-XXXX was developed under Project Siteswap. Kinetology mapping theorized that SCP-XXXX could be achived with the proper tools. Homophonic meta-actuality descriptors: (siteswap/site swap)56 were used to create SCP-XXXX-1.
Experimentation Log
[[footnoteblock]]
Cimmerian watched the sun lazily drop in the sky through his window. A day full of nothing but paperwork is necessary but utterly draining. The alarms for a containment breach echoed in the halls. Lovely. He can already tell tomorrow isn't going to be any different.
A knock on the door. "You got time for one more signature?" It's Dr. North. He's got a paper for a covert mission. Dr. North just needs Dr. Cimmerian's OK. Put it in the inbox he tells him. He'll get to it in a bit. A couple more minutes and the sun should be setting.
Dr. North approaches the inbox on Dr. Cimmerian's table. He reaches to slide the paper into its tray but he hears something and stops.
The sound of high pitched laughing cuts through the distant containment breach alarms. It grows louder and more frantic. The telltale drumroll of security in pursuit follows in its wake.
The laughter bursts through the door and into Dr. Cimmerian's office. A winged cherub with a bow and a smile of a thousand commercial toddlers zips about chased by PTF Kappa-143. Dr. Cimmerian reaches for his tranquilizer weapon. Dr. North attempts to duck behind the side of the table.
PTF Kappa-143 try to shoot down the laughing demon but it manages to land one arrow on the Ethics Committee Liaison and one on the Assistant Director of Espionage and Logistics and then flies out of the office leaving behind a trail of flowers.
PTF Commander Cane apologizes to the doctors and PTF Kappa-143 leave to follow their target.
The sound of laughter and chase fade into the alarm bells.
Dr. Cimmerian and Dr. North compose themselves. Cimmerian had been shot in the shoulder; North in the back. Both are painfully aware of what’s about to occur. The Cupid’s arrows dissolve into pink light. The two doctors look away from each other. The inevitable loomed over them.
Jeremiah Cimmerian tries to think. He feels his heart starting to pound hard in his chest. He catches North moving in the corner of his eye and Cimmerian looks at him. North and Cimmerian lock eyes. North averts his gaze once more.
Cimmerian's thoughts clear. He sizes up North. The Cupid’s effects last about a day. A whole day of love with North. North isn’t… that bad looking. Might as well enjoy the ride. What would Megan think of them right now?
The man can’t even look at me. So shy.
“It looks like we’re stuck North.”
“Ye-“ North’s voice cracks. He clears his throat. “Yeah.” North laughs nervously.
Cimmerian sees North uncomfortably shifting his leg. The poor man. We need to move this along or we’ll never make it to the end of the day.
“It could have been worse North. I was planning to get Bright to cover for me today.”
“Jesus, that would have been a show for the whole site.”
The doctors chuckle. The room seems to brighten. The flowers on the floor smell very sweet. The sun casts the window's shadow across the room.
"Kappa-143 get shot by that thing all the time right?" Dr. North relaxes into the conversation. Was Cimmerian always this nice?
"Yes. Sometimes they're shot all at once." Cimmerian pauses. Now's his chance. Time to make a move.
Cimmerian leans towards North. "It must be nice."
Dr. North lights up like a tomato. "Y-You think so?" Dr. North tenses up again laughing nervously.
"North, let me make this clear: at this moment we are supernaturally attracted to each other. Containment Procedures for people shot by that damn cherub are to let things play out. One day of making a complete fool of yourself in front of another fool. The best case scenario is that it's only moderately embarrassing."
North is silent.
Dr. Cimmerian moves to Dr. North. He closes the gap between them. North takes a step back.
"You're scared? Where's the North that eats the Serpent's Hand for breakfast?"
North swallows the knot in his throat.
"He's… you're just… very forward."
"Then how would you like me to treat you? I could ravish you if you wanted."
"NO! No. I…" Dr. North's face is a supernova. He takes a moment to collect himself.
"Could we go on a date?"
Cimmerian looks North deep in the eyes.
"If it's a date you want it's a date you'll get."
Cimmerian picks up a flower from the floor. Daisies. It'll do, Cimmerian supposes. He places the flower into Dr. North's coat and covers it up.
"Let's just hope no one else gets wind of this."
"Agreed. Where should we go?"
"How about we grab some drinks and watch the sunset?"
"On the roof?"
"Where else?"
The site was all aflutter that day. It had taken PTF Kappa-143 two hours to recapture the loose Cupid. It's rampage left many site staff with new friendships and some with regretfully bad decisions.
In its containment cell, the Cupid smiles to itself. It flies a loop and laughs. It is content.
Love is in the air once more and that's all that ever matters.
Open Mic Night at Stacker’s THURSDAYS 10:00
The world is drowning; the flooded stage beckons. A sailor comes forth from a keel.
No one is listening, yet here you are. Enjoy this washed up spiel.
“I offer this rhyme to this deluge of mine.”
The Boat is sinking! The Boat is sinking!
Group yourselves into six!
Side by side and hand in hand,
You’ll jump into the Styx.
The Boat is sinking! The Boat is sinking!
Group yourselves into five!
Father, Mother, Sister, Brother,
And Death, all ready to dive.
The Boat is sinking! The Boat is sinking!
Group yourselves into four!
Each face East, West, South, and North.
Each will never see shore.
The Boat is sinking! The Boat is sinking!
Group yourselves into three!
One for rowing. One for towing.
One to toss in the sea.
The Boat is sinking! The Boat is sinking!
Group yourselves into two!
And partners you shall now forever be
Until the undertow.
The Boat is sinking! The Boat is sinking!
Group yourself into one!
Pull the ships from the ocean floor
To sink once more in the sun
The world is quiet. No specter. No flood.
The bar fixes up for the night.
The smell of coffee and alcohol linger through the light.
‘Til next week.
Open Mic Night at Stacker's THURSDAYS 10:00pm
The stage beckons. Samuel doesn't know where he is but his heart is full to bursting.
He picks up a lonely guitar. It feels right in his hands. The microphone sits patiently.
"I offer this song in my own voice."
Where can I go?
I’m still trapped in my own nightmare
Where am I now?
Now and then I find you on my mind
Now and then I think
Maybe I’ll never wake up
But I can hear you out there singing
What do you do now when it rains?
What do you do now when you see a falling star?
Hearing your voice again is a bittersweet memory
I just want to wake up ‘cause
I can’t stop dreaming
I can’t stop dreaming
I can’t stop scheming my own escape
I can’t stop thinking
I can’t stop listening
I can’t stop
I can’t stop making the same mistakes
The guitar drops on the floor.
The stage is empty once more.
The microphone waits for another.
'Til next week.
It’s a sweltering summer afternoon in Manila. The smog is heavy and the traffic heavier.
Jose greedily grabs his drink from the vendor. A plastic bag filled with orange soda, ice, and a straw glistens in the sun. Jose looks between the parked vendors choking the thin sidewalk with their stalls. He finds an asphalt patch big enough to sit on. The ground releases its pent-up heat as a warm body makes contact. On his small vantage point, Jose giddily sips his drink.
From her shop, Luisa sighs as she fans herself with a piece of card. A politician’s face bounces about while she shoos away the heat. Luisa stands guard behind the counter. Every now and then, a wayward fly requires swatting. Every now and then, a wayward customer requires assisting. But right now, there’s not much of anything. Luisa wipes sweat from her brow and continues to fan away at this boring day.
Marco and Matthew keep running. The cop stopped trying to chase them two blocks ago. Marco laughs his head off while Matthew can hardly keep up. Their bare feet are accustomed to the scorch of the road. Two more blocks and the boys finally slow down. Their haul; a purse with about ₱1000 and a cellphone. Still panting, Marco splits the bills. They head to the mall to get out of the heat and to see how much the phone is worth.
Angelito quietly swears as he inches his cab forward. Around him, half the road has been cordoned off for repairs. Up ahead, there’s been some sort of unrelated car accident. Behind him, there’s a line of cars that seem to go on forever. In the back of the cab, there’s a quiet elderly couple. At least they’re nice people, he thinks. Angelito tries to find an alternate route on his phone. There’s a detour up ahead that could work. Angelito turns on the radio. He hums as the cab inches forward in the blistering heat.
Researcher De Guzman stretches to wake up. He looks over what documents he has of SCPs held in the country. Watermelon seeds that make fruit tumors when eaten. The cellphone ghost of an abusive mother harassing her daughter and son-in-law. The Sinulog/Santo Niño Festival rituals that need to be done so people who watch the festival don’t have parts of their body turn into fertilized duck eggs. There’s probably more. Is it the SCPs, or is researcher De Guzman hungry now? Maybe someone on site has ice pops.
The sun looks over what it shines on. All that feel its light are safe. This heat is its love. It gives freely. It shines. It cares so deeply.
Is there a way to spread its light deeper? The sun thinks on this for a good long while.
Open Mic Night at Stacker’s THURSDAYS 10:00
A stage! Check. Corny Collins cosplay? Check. Bass and trumpets? Hmmm. Nope. Ah!
The last guy left a guitar. Why not. Check. Magic Mike? Check. Backup vocals? Check. All clear. Action!
“I offer this song in another’s voice.”
Hey there, my cool, cool cats and ice cubes!
Stay right where you are!
'Cause it's time for Open Mic Night!
Brought to you by Stacker’s Coffeehouse and Bar!
Every Thursday night come on down and sing, yeah
(Bop-bee-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba, bee-ba)
Gimme all that you got when the 10 o' bells rings
(Bop-bee-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba, bee-ba)
Get your hat tossed in
Your nerves shaken away
And then you sing-a-strum-a-say-a
What you need-a to say
Could be a crash or a clown
Just be the coolest kid in town
Oooo! (Ba, ba-ba-ba) Oooo! (Ba, ba-ba-ba)
Oh every Thursday night, don’t matter when or where, yeah
(Na, na, na, na, na, na-na-na-na)
Stacker’s gon' be there with a ready player, yeah
(Na, na, na, na, na, na-na-na-na)
You play your heart right out
And let the music in
And when there’s no one left to play
We’ll play it all again
You better wear the crown
And be the coolest kid in town
Oooo! (Ba, ba-ba-ba) Oooo! (Ba, ba-ba-ba) Oooo! (Ba, ba-ba-ba)
Coolest Kid in Town!
A stage.
A guitar.
Magic Mike.
‘Til next week.
From their pedestal, Shaggy and Scooby smelled the delicious air. Their conjoined stomach growled.
“Zoinks, Scoob! These islanders sure know how to make a feast!”
“Ryeah!”
Their mouths drooled greedily at the baked buttered prawns and the big pot of sour milkfish broth being added to the table already overflowing with food. Their hind legs rapped at the floor in anticipation.
The chief of the Makabunga Tribe came from behind Shaggy and Scooby. He put his arms around their shoulders and stuck his head between theirs.
The chief looked at them expectantly. “Famished?”
“Boy do you know it chief!”
“Ryeah! Roy do you row it!”
The chief looped around Shaggy and Scooby and knelt in front of their forelegs. “Then please, great dog-man! Accept this meal and spare us your wrath!”
Scooby jolted their body in alarm. “Rats! Rhere?”
“Ow Scoob, watch it. He said wrath. Not rats.”
The chief kept his head low. “Please, we only wish to see the next day in peace.”
“Don’t worry brother, if your buttered prawns are as good as they look, you need to keep making them in peace.”
“Ruttered Rawns!”
The chief rose. “As you wish. Begin the feast!”
Shaggy and Scooby unhinged their jaws and ate the chief in two bites. Their horrible four-legged form rose from their pedestal and devoured every plate and person. The screams of the tribespeople were drowned out by the crunching of their bones.
The once peaceful village of Makabunga was gone the next day.
Tales of a beast, half-dog and half-man, full of hunger and lies, spread through the neighboring tribes. It was never seen again but all knew that what had happened was true. A burning question was ingrained in every islander’s mind with fear:
“Shaggy-Doo, where are you?”






Per 


