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As he kicked the door off its hinges, he decided it didn't really matter whose office it was. GOD DAMMIT." "Dmitri, you can't just shoot whoever is holding the monkey and expect to get it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go deal with Renfield in the infirmary…little bitch. laughed one more time before he scooped SCP-050 from his desk and exited the room. "Not HIM…" He turned around, clutching the monkey statue to his chest, as a breathtakingly ugly middle-aged man walked down the hall towards him. Later that day, as loyal security men tried desperately to work out what had happened to SCP's 649 and 109, Reject arrived at his office to find a scribbled caricature on his door of a fat man in a bowler hat giving him the finger, with the text "PRANKED BY BRUDDAH GROVE! He rerouted around the third floor; he had heard that someone had gotten their hands on a metric ton of hissing cockroaches and thermite.His boots left dents in the sheet metal as he stepped over the broken door and surveyed the group of cowering interns, hand resting casually on his holster. "I WILL SHOOT ONE OF YOU EVERY MINUTE UNTIL I AM TOLD WHICH ONES OF YOU IS REND FIELD." The group parted like the Red Sea, leaving a smug looking young girl standing alone in the center. That isn't a prank." Bright's wheelchair bumped into the back of Dmitri's leg as he manhandled it around. You could have at least killed her." Strelnikov sighed heavily and returned to the quiet of his quarters, trying to reconcile himself to the fact that 050 would never be his. On instinct, he glanced down to catch a glimpse of the bit of silk wafting from his collar, only to get a flick on the nose. As he disappeared around the door frame, Eisenberg heard him chuckle. He skirted the south side of the fourth floor, trying to find his way back to the restrooms to wash up. I know that they've started reenforcing them ever since Bright accidentally flushed 523. " "The Sewage Access Hatch isn't far from here, we can make it if we hurry! Having long since given up hope of finding a bathroom to clean up in, he had started to work his way back to his office.Several rooms away, research assistant Renfield took her fingers out of her ears and looked happily down at the monkey statue now gracing her new desk. It was amazing, he thought, what the presence of that man could do. Fortunately, the prank war was a regular yearly event, so he'd had plenty of time to prepare.Dmitri studied his reflection for a moment, adjusted the angle of his hat, then exited his quarters. In fact, as a sign of my goodwill, I'll escort you back to your office." Los E. A researcher leaped out from around the corner holding a giant creme pie, which he rapidly put down and walked away from. "Ah, here it tis." He stopped in front of a particular office, grinning as he began pulling the necessary materials from his satchel. Bright sat in the middle of the Cafeteria, the old fashioned computer set before him. After befriending SCP-168, he asked his new buddy a favor. " Reject quickly decided he'd had enough of complaining from this unknown man and dealt a swift uppercut to the jaw followed by an elbow to the nose.Atop said computer was a certain statue of a certain monkey, which many people had tried to obtain. The entirety of site 19, backed up, and emailed elsewhere, so if this goes as balls up as I expect it to, we can reboot." He sighed, and stood up. The calculator agreed in return for the ability to see the rest of the prank war. When the man returned, he gave Reject a questioning glance, but dismissed it. As he fell, Reject grabbed SCP-168 and the brown paper bag. He looked once more at the unconscious accountant on the ground.The heel irons in his boots clicked on the linoleum floors as he walked briskly through the halls of Site 19. "I really did not want to be subject to a prank by you." "Hey, don't worry about it. A man wearing a hockey mask and holding a machete took off his costume and had a sheepish talk with the Senior Researcher. A small funnel, a length of tubing, the matchbox and canteen, and hundreds of small paper packets, which his helpers began opening one by one.Those going about their daily business knew to stay out of the way when Strelnikov was about; his movements had purpose, and that could only mean a disaster was looming. Renfield's office was only two floors down from his own. It didn't take long to tape the tubing to the mouth of the canteen, and slide the other end under the door. dug a finger in his ear, trying to dig out the last vestiges of shaving cream.

The coders and hardware gurus had a whole, unique set of regulations and security clearances, and the amount of information you were exposed to above your classification level was directly proportional to your time on the job. Researcher Eisenberg visibly balked at the sudden intrusion, his eyes darting to the statue on his desk before reaching for the top drawer. Tucked in safely mere inches above the ceiling of Doctor Los's freshly painted office, forty-eight plastic phalluses began to hum. The collective vibrations caused by the forty-eight sex toys would be building up to the maximum by now, shaking the ceiling - and walls - of every office on the floor below it, rupturing the many little sachets of tomato juice seeded in the plaster beneath the apple-scented white paint. A glance at the current tally showed him however, that the statue has changed owners several times since he started his preparations, currently residing at the desk of some no-name Junior Researcher… "Bloody hell, hope this ink is black enough…" His sweaty hands grabbed the worn leather of SCP-141, an act that would make many a bibliophile cringe, and he began to laboriously scribble onto the first free page, trying to imitate the original writing as well as possible. A quick search, and even quicker email from a disposable address later, Vladim. Eisenberg, in his mind already a Senior Researcher, walked back to his office. I wonder if the big one counts as Sn-" His thoughts were interrupted by a kick into the door, and in the next moment, he had to take cover behind his desk from a hail of bullets, accompanied by an even stronger hail of high-fidelity Russian swearing. Here's the plan." As he watched the gelatinous form move from the room, a smile formed on Junior Researcher Tad's face. It was luck that he walked by Eisenberg's office just in time to see the statue appear on his desk.The guys that ran the networks and made sure the workstations functioned knew more than most of the researchers, though maybe not as much as that one janitor. He set off at a brisk pace down the hallway, hoping to get there before anyone else did. As expected, not only was the comms office a very long distance away, it was also utter chaos. Sitting at his desk, Junior Researcher Byantara was enjoying the fruit of a day's work - SCP-050 stood on his surprisingly clean table, and if it was his lucky day, he might just about be among the few Foundation employees to ever skip a rank. A desk that the monkey statue has conveniently disappeared from. Eisenberg sipped at his tea, giving glances to his prize every few seconds. Making sure that no fool would try to win the statue. As the orange form lowered down, it's pseudopods at the ready.Once he realized that a mixed batch of saline and known allergens could only be used for the ever-escalating prank contests, a few key strokes were all it took to set retaliation in motion. Someone had sounded some sort of alarm beforehand, and whoever was meant to be guarding the place were long gone, leaving dog-eared papers in their wake. " Hey buddy, I see no one has bothered to come see you today. Oh don't worry no one will get hurt, and here have some Mn Ms. Eisenberg looked up; Even with the strong smell of herbs in his nose he picked up another scent.Around him stood, sat, or otherwise existed quite a large number of the junior staff, with a few seniors, all eyes glued to the good doctor. "In that case, I officially declare the beginning of the Staff Prank war of 2011. Reject dropped SCP-168 in the office he had seen before as soon as the man inhabiting it left. After five minutes in his office, a scream was heard. I feel so awful…" Reject chuckled to himself and began to shadow the man as he hurried down the hallways. And then he laughed, and left this bloody, deceptive business behind him as he strolled back towards his office with a renewed sense of confidence.Whoever holds 050 at the end of a 24 hour period will be promoted to the ranks of Senior Staff. When the man exited his office, his face was pale white. The man looked at the calculator and said "Okay, okay. When they arrived at a file cabinet, the man stopped. , my cousin." The humongously fat Hawaiian nodded ponderously at the uniformed corpse held aloft in his hand, then slowly shook it so that it's head nodded along.

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