Item #: SCP-118-J
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-118-J is to be contained at Site 19 until further
notice by allowing him to work with whatever it is that SCP-118-J does around here anyway.
SCP-118-J can be assigned further research duties, but prolonged interaction may cause
individuals to exceed their daily sodium intake.
It is not advised to agitate SCP-118-J, as it causes SCP-118-J to grow in size.
In the event of an explosive outburst, Foundation personnel are advised to tell SCP-118-J to
chill, and remind them of their condition, through an interrogative statement.
Description: SCP-118-J is formerly Foundation Researcher Doctor Michael Magnus, who was
transformed into a substantial quantity of common table salt after an unfortunate incident
in the Site 19 cafeteria.
After this incident SCP-118-J has become a giant pile of salt, with a labcoat, and a
pair of glasses in there somewhere.
SCP-118-J is still able to perform his research duties for the Foundation, though the amount
of salt he emits while doing so is staggering.
Salt emissions have been observed to increase around payday, and after sporting events involving
the Pittsburgh Steelers American football team.
SCP-118-J has been observed to increase in the total volume of salt when agitated or
corrected.
As such it is recommended to try and keep SCP-118-J calm.
Failure to do so may endanger your cardiovascular health.
Researcher Kensington observed the transformation of Dr. Magnus on November 17th, 2004 after
he became agitated, and "entered a salt state" (hereafter referred to as CONDITION-POSTERIOR-DAMAGED)
during their shared lunch break.
At this time, there's no known cure for SCP-118-J's condition, and will most likely remain a giant
pile of salt until he dies.
Dr. Magnus' note: Get fucked Kensington, you took that last
plate of Carbonara, when you knew I wanted it, and that doesn't make me "salty", you
giant chode.
Stop posting this shit to the database, they're already murdering my inbox because of this.
Addendum NaCl: On February 6, 2011, there was a major breach event which concluded with
SCP-118-J entering CONDITION-POSTERIOR-DAMAGED at approximately 10 pm following what was
described in his own words as "a complete shit show, chokefest."
Researcher Kensington was observed to then hold out his hand, and demand restitution
for some form of pre-arranged bet.
Doctor Magnus was observed to be a total dick, and welch.
It is unknown at this time whether his inability to pay up is due to his condition as SCP-118-J,
or if he's just that much of a baby.
Addendum K2Cr2O7: On June 27, 2015, after losing a round of the video game "Nidhogg"
to Researcher Kensington, SCP-118-J was inquired as to his emotional state, while implying
fraternal relation.
This immediately caused a CONDITION-POSTERIOR-DAMAGED, which lead to unprecedented ambient salt levels
in the immediate vicinity.
Due to the amount of damage caused to Researcher Ken's totally sweet rig that he spent like
three grand on, over a game of Nidhogg for fuck's sake, it's recommended at this time
to never inquire of SCP-118-J's emotional state, or familial fraternal relation.
Because he can't take a goddamned joke, and is like seven thousand years old and doesn't
recognize a meme.
Dr. Magnus' note: Get fucking bent, you cheated.
Addendum C4H6BNaO3S: On December 25th, 2015, Researcher Kensington
participated in the Site 19 "Secret Santa" exchange, having recieved SCP-118-J's given
name.
As part of the tradition, Researcher Kensington purchased an ornate salt shaker for SCP-118-J,
feeling he would appreciate a joke, and have somewhere decorative to store some of his
salt.
Researcher Kensington underestimated SCP-118-J's inability to take a joke, and SCP-118-J entered
CONDITION-POSTERIOR-DAMAGED as usual.
Such was the magnitude of SCP-118-J's saltiness, that other Research Staff around him were
affected as well.
No less than ██ research staff were transformed into huge piles of salt, as a result of SCP-118-J's
shitty mood, and the general consensus was that SCP-118-J ruined the office Christmas
party with his inability to take a joke.
Dr Magnus' Note: Kensington, you irredeemable fuckwad.
"Ornate salt shaker" my dick.
I didn't ruin shit, AND DELETE THIS GODDAMNED DATABASE ENTRY.