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Gears woke up in a shock, a paper sticking to his drool-covered mouth. After taking a moment to look around and realize he was indeed in his office and not about to be ground into paste by some Global Occult Coalition psychopath with a woodchipper, he slowly peeled the paper off his face. Even though it was a bit moist, it was still easily readable, and made Gears realize why he had opened his emergency whiskey drawer the previous night. After taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone and put in a number.

"Bring Dr. Bright up to my office, please."


"You wanted to see me?" Bright said, poking his head through Gears' office door.

"Yes. Please, sit down." Gears replied, gesturing to a chair by his desk, which Bright promptly jumped into. The chair's wood groaned under Bright's weight, and Gears suddenly felt a bit of pity for it.

Noticing that Gears was staring at the chair for a time longer than any sane man should stare at a chair, Bright waved his hand in front of Gears' vision. "You okay man?"

Gears blinked. "Yes."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Bright finally broke the silence. "So, what am I here for? This is the first time in months. I didn't do something, did I?"

Sighing, Gears simply pushed a moist paper on his desk towards Bright. "Yesterday, as you know, we had a very important meeting with a Global Occult Coalition representative. You were in charge of putting together their information folder. All you had to do was copy a few files and put them in it, nothing else. But then, during the meeting, we bought up a proposed treaty, a copy of which was supposed to be in their folder. Instead, this was there. Read it, please."

Bright glanced down at the moist paper, which looked like it was slathered with white-out. "Uh. I don't think I had anything to do with this."

"Just. Read. It."

"Alright, alright." Flipping the paper over, Bright began to slowly decipher the chicken-scratch handwriting…


GOC X SCP FUNDATION: A STOREE OF LOV, DECEPTION, AND TRADEGERYy

once up On a time, the SCP FUNDATION was holding hands!!! (isntt that so cute!!!??) with the GOC PERSON.

as they held hands (aaaaaa omg omg omg so cuteee!) suddenly… ANOMALY SUPRISED THEM!!!

GOC reeched for there PISTOL GUN TWENTY THOUSAND, whitch fired NINE HUNDERED CALBER SIZE BULETS, but SCP FUNDATION stopepd them…

"wat are u doing??? ANOMALY is a nice freind!"

"no… anomole evil…"

GOC suddenle mani fested GIGANTIC SWORD made of BLOD and BONE and TEETH and WOOD SHAVINGS then SLASHED ANOMOLE IN 202939401 PIECES!!! RED WENT EVERYWHERE AND GOC LAUGHGED EVILY!!!

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA ANOMOLEY IS DED!!!"

SCP FUNDATION no longer felt fundation… they felt SAD-DATION :(

GOC saide "why are u asad… anomeoyly is deadd"

SCP SADDATION did not say anythin… and FILED FOR DIVORCE!!!

GOC was left forever alon… with only ther SWORD and GUN to keep them company…

the end!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(ps, thats why u should be our frenind, GOC!!! we can hold hands!)


"I see the problem here." Bright turned the page over, looking at the splatters of white on the front. In certain spots, he could see black letters— the letters of the original treaty he had been ordered to make copies of. "I accidentally ended up chugging five containers of white-out when trying to fix a spelling mistake, and then I tried to recreate the treaty on the back of the sheet."

Gears blinked, then rubbed his eyes. "You… accidentally chugged white-out? How did you even get five containers of it!? And why didn't you just reprint the treaty!?"

"I have a lot of office supplies, Gears. Don't judge me for my preparedness for any office emergen—"

"Now I've got the entirety of the Global Occult Coalition breathing down my neck because they think your little story was me making a mockery of them! I'm afraid to go back home because I think they're gonna be waiting for me there, ready to throw me into their woodchipper the moment they can get their hands on me!"

Bright looked down at his feet, then glanced back up to Gears with an awkward grin. "I'm sorry?"

"Get out! Out of here! Out! Now!" Bright scampered out of the office with the speed of a man afraid to be put into the body of a guinea pig again, leaving Gears to reach for his emergency whiskey cabinet once more.

One day I'll throw him into a woodchipper, Gears thought. One day…

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