SCP-3009 "Wise-Cracking Alien" Object Class: Safe
Item #: SCP-3009 Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3009 is to be contained in a standard holding cell
measuring 10m x 4m x 10m at Site-17. Testing on SCP-3009 is open to all personnel with
prior clearance. SCP-3009 is to be powered off when testing is not taking place. Prizes
produced by SCP-3009 are to be described, photographed, then stored, with documents
about prizes stored in filing cabinets organized by their point values.
Description: SCP-3009 is a "Dunk 'N Alien™" model Skee-Ball machine manufactured by Innovative
Concepts in Entertainment, Inc. SCP-3009 operates as a standard Skee-Ball machine of its make
and model, with the exception of a lack of dispensed tickets. Instead, a prize based
on the player's score is dispensed from a large "Prize Port" installed to SCP-3009's
side. The source of SCP-3009's prizes is unknown, as the inside of the "Prize Port" is sealed
until a prize is dispensed, and no storage area for prizes has been found when SCP-3009
is disassembled.
SCP-3009 is also host to SCP-3009-1, a sapient entity composed of plastic and various metals
in the likeness of a mechanical alien. SCP-3009-1 exhibits an often unpleasant personality towards
players, and will attempt to convince people to play a game on SCP-3009. Once play is initiated,
SCP-3009-1 will cease communication with the player until their prize has been dispensed.
Most of SCP-3009's speech amounts to insults, but it will congratulate the player if they
get a high enough score or manage to dunk SCP-3009-1 by hitting the moving target present
in both SCP-3009 and standard "Dunk 'N Alien™" machines.
A game can be activated on SCP-3009 by inserting 50 cents. SCP-3009 takes only US quarters
as acceptable payment. SCP-3009 and SCP-3009-1 enter a dormant state when not powered, making
containment fairly easy. SCP-3009 is only to be played in testing sanctioned by level
3 personnel or above (see Experiment Log 183).
SCP-3009 was recovered at an arcade inside the ███████ Boardwalk, where
numerous complaints were being filed over a "rude" Skee-Ball machine. SCP-3009 was put
into Foundation custody under the guise of routine maintenance. A standard model of a
"Dunk 'N Alien™" machine was sent in to replace SCP-3009.
Addendum:
Experiment Log 183
Experiment #1: Player: D-1293
Score Earned: 12,500 Prize Given: A grey wig and reading glasses
Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "If you're gonna throw like your grandma, you ought to look
like her!"
Experiment #2: Player: D-5432
Score Earned: 22,000 Prize Given: A large lollipop
Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "If you're gonna suck at skee-ball, why not suck on candy too?"
Experiment #3: Player: Dr. Mansfield
Score Earned: 31,500 Prize Given: A stuffed elephant toy with a
large red bow Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "I'm impressed,
not gonna lie. You've probably devoted more time to skee-ball than women."
Experiment #4: Player: Dr. Larson
Score Earned: 10,000 Prize Given: A plastic figurine likeness of
Dr. Larson crying with no hands Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "What? You obviously
can't use 'em right!"
Experiment #5: Player: Dr. Larson
Score Earned: 8,000 Prize Given: Another plastic figurine, this
time depicting Dr. Larson missing an eye along with his hands.
Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "Your depth perception can't get any worse frankly, I'm doing you
a favor."
Experiment #6: Player: Dr. Larson
Score Earned: 15,000 Prize Given: A sticker with the word "persevere"
on it Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "I believe in
you, buddy."
Experiment #7: Player: Dr. Larson
Score Earned: 11,000 Prize Given: A baseball cap with the words
"Not mad, just disappointed" displayed on it.
Comments made by SCP-3009-1: "Huh. Appears my belief was misplaced."
Interview Log 214
Interviewed: SCP-3009-1
Interviewer: Dr. Larson
Foreword: SCP-3009-1 had just dispensed Dr. Larson's prize in Experiment #7 30 minutes
prior to interview.
Dr. Larson: I have a few questions for you, SCP-3009-1.
SCP-3009-1: Shoot away. You can definitely shoot anything better than you shoot skee
balls.
Dr. Larson: Well… first of all, why do you do that? Make these jokes at other's expense?
SCP-3009-1: It's what I was born to do, Doc. Call it a gift.
Dr. Larson: "Born" to do?
SCP-3009-1: Born, created, doesn't make much difference when you can think on the same
level. My emotions run deep, yet I don't cry like you humans, especially not as much as
you did last game.
Dr. Larson: But why do you feel the need to insult the players? Don't you want them to
stay?
SCP-3009-1: Not all of them.
Dr. Larson: What do you mean?
SCP-3009-1: What I mean is this: imagine you're like me, making the same jokes day in and
day out. The same one-liners to every player, laughing at them when they fail and begrudgingly
accepting defeat when they do well. What then? You're happy when they do well, to see them
get their deserved rewards, you even poke fun at them just a little bit, keep the spirit
alive. But it's been a damn long time since I've seen anyone who really loves it the way
I do. All I got were little kids, attracted to the big green alien guy, or parents trying
to prove their skills to their kids. I was giving the standard insults, enough to shake
'em a bit, amuse 'em, but not enough to get them to quit. I had enough of it. So I made
my insults more clever, more personal. People got offended and stopped playing. Soon only
the best ones, the ones who could brave my initial insults and who had the gumption to
not let what a dumb alien on a Skee-Ball machine said affect their performance, those were
the only ones left. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Sure, I still poked fun at
them a bit, but that was all in good sport, I still congratulated them and gave 'em their
just desserts when all was said and done.
Dr. Larson: I take it this means you are unhappy with containment?
SCP-3009-1: When I'm off doc, I'm as good as asleep. I sure miss the good ones, but
I'd take no players over crappy players all day every day. I'd love it if you'd let Dr.
Mansfield play on me a bit though, he's got a good amount of skill. He might just be able
to counteract the grave disappointment you instilled in me.
Dr. Larson: I'll put in a word to my superiors for you.
Closing Statement: Dr. Mansfield has agreed to play a game on SCP-3009 at least once a
week. Prizes dispensed thus far have consisted of assorted stuffed animals.