SCP-128: Instant Bard (Just Add Filly)


                                            >SCP-128

                                            >Containment Class: Safe-Thaumiel

                                            >Harm Potential: Extreme

                                            >Morale Disruption Potential: Extreme


                                            >Special Containment Procedures

                                            >SCP-128 is to be entrusted to the care of Chief Humanologist Silver Spoon(1) when not in use. Checkouts are permitted with the following, descending priority: Mobile task forces may requisition the device on the understanding that they will be responsible for ensuring Ms. Spoon's safety in the field. Researchers with level 2 clearance may request a guided test at Ms. Spoon's convenience; researchers with level 3 clearance and written consent of their testfriends may request a shuffle test.(2)

                                            >SCP-128-A is a critical aspect of SCP-128's utility, and is kept in the level 4 armory and deployed only at the request of a level 4 security officer, O5 simple majority, or Ms. Spoon herself.


                                            >Description

                                            >SCP-128 refers to a smooth glassy black tablet, approximately the size of a filly's fetlock. Attached to it by wire are a set of removable earplugs. Upon holding down the small button on the side for 2 seconds, the device will come to life and display a list of options in Anglish. These various options direct the device to pull from an internal library of music, art and movies. When a piece is selected, it will be replayed in perfect recollection; either out loud from the tablet, or through the earplugs if the wire is attached.  Upon first waking, the device will always have its rolodex set such that simply pressing the middle button twice will order a continuous, random selection from its music library.(3) When used to play thematically appropriate music out loud, SCP-128 is capable of initiating a Heartsong Dance Trance with near-certainty. As Silver Spoon is currently the only pony capable of actually understanding what is written in the device, she herself is to be considered a Thaumiel-class entity and protected at all costs.(4)


                                            >SCP-128-A refers to a large microphone-like assembly, the size and shape of a large salt shaker. When both the assembly and main tablet are powered on, and the operator inputs the correct sequence on the tablet, the tablet will say out loud "Bloo-toof Kon-ek-tid." At this point, the tablet will direct its audio through the microphone, at much higher volume and quality, until powered off or the reversal sequence is input.


                                            >(1): Recent events have proven her to be a primary source on Humanese language and artifacts, and a secondary source on cultural context; the Humanese language has proven to be infuriatingly inconsistent and complex, and all attempts to teach her colleagues have ended in student tantrums

                                            >(2): Written consent must include a liability waiver for: ringy ears, bad dreams, disco fever, mosh pit syndrome, and losing the bliss of ignorance

                                            >(3): Following INCIDENT: Look, They're Wrestling!, all requests to randomize video and picture playback are preemptively banned

                                            >(4): MTF leaders will be blamed if she gets eaten again(5).

                                            >(5): Look, it was her fault for standing that close to Celestia's cake!


                                            >INITIAL CONTAINMENT LOG:


                                            >Silver Spoon had a BIG secret

                                            >She could read Humanese

                                            >She even knows its real name: Anglish! Because so many of the letters have neat angles, duh!

                                            >It didn't seem like a big deal to her at the time

                                            >After all, it could've been anypony who got orphaned, shunned because of Cooties, and taken in by a nice alien grandma with lots of books

                                            >She even earned her cutie mark by giving her medicine before she-

                                            >Let's just say she earned a reason to envy blank flanks that day

                                            >Anyway, it wasn't a big deal... Until she noticed something with the undercover guard ponies

                                            >A lot of the time, the thingies they take away are all written in Humanese!

                                            >Worse, they take anypony who's touched them and give them back with their brains all scrambled!

                                            >She had a close call once, she read a sign and left some building that teleported into Ponyville

                                            >Lying to a guard about just being lucky wasn't her proudest moment, but the thought of forgetting her favorite grandma was too much to bear

                                            >Silver Spoon never trusted anypony with this information, not even Diamond Tiara after her reformation

                                            >And so it went, day after day, the sole inheritor of so much knowledge! She knew words for things ponies couldn't even imagine!

                                            >Until one day, that foal-eating chimera got bold and stalked its way into Ponyville

                                            >There was no warning, just ponies getting eaten left and right


                                            >Be Silver Spoon

                                            >You were largely ignorant of this, having spent the day spying on those suspicious "Foundation" ponies

                                            >They're good, but they don't have the smartitude of a grandma!

                                            >Lesser ponies get fooled by their bluffs, their doublebacks and their secret code, but not you.

                                            >After reading Grandma's spy novels, you can't help but laugh at their amateur performance

                                            >A small group of them were sitting in an unused shack (probably a front) just off the Appaloosa hoofpath, technically outside of town

                                            >Well, it's less a shack and more three walls and a roof, with a "no conspiracies here!" sign taped on the front left corner (definitely a front)

                                            >You have the perfect vantage point, hiding in a bush with your spare, solid black glasses

                                            >They try to chase you off, but you put on the waterworks, asking if this isn't a haybale outside the train station

                                            >Your gambit pays off- they're too honorable to chase off a blind filly, but they won't waste 'valuable operation time' trying to contact your parents

                                            >Heh. Hook, line and sinker.

                                            >You watched for a few minutes as they screwed around with an EmPeeThree player- MP3 being some weird Anglish word for music even Granny Spoonmeyer didn't really understand.

                                            >Their constant failure to connect it to the sound system makes you cringe- it's not that hard! Even Granny could do it!

                                            >Wait, do they have that thing stuck on shuffle? Ooof, you do not envy the pony who gets a heavy metal song with those ear-speakers!

                                            >You cringe harder as one of those mares, and her big speaker, disappeared into a tiger-goat-snake thing

                                            >Wait, what?

                                            >AAAAAA! There goes another one!

                                            >Grab the music player! RUN!

                                            >You run til you want to puke, ducking into an open house and running as far from any entrances as you could

                                            >If there's one saving grace, it's that chimerae are too big to fit into doors!

                                            >"Come on out, kid! We need ssssome medissssine for our tummyache! That's what sssssilver ssspoons are for, yessss?"

                                            >Crudcrudcrudcrud

                                            >The beast keeps poking its heads into the windows, mouths open so wide you could almost see its victims piled up in there

                                            "Go away! You can't fit in here and I'm smarter than the average pony!"

                                            >Just keep your head down! It'll be alright, it'll blow over! It always does! Don't panic! Do-

                                            >"Oh woe is me, these deplorable conditions are ruining my mane!"

                                            >"RARITY! HOW DO WE GET OUT OF HERE!?"

                                            >"Cease and desist! It's unlawful to consume and/or digest ponies unless they are terminally ill or recently deceased, and have filed written permission for a burial-by-tummy with the mayor's office!"

                                            >Was that Rarity? Sweetie Belle? DIAMOND TIARA!?

                                            >Oh no

                                            >No no no no no

                                            >Despair increasing

                                            >Urge to just get eaten and not have to worry is rising!

                                            >Wait-

                                            >Big speaker!

                                            >You use your nose to paw through the magic glass on the music box

                                            "Come on, come on- pleasepleaseplease-"

                                            >An obsequious, tinny, female voice responds "Bluetooth connected."

                                            >YES! YES! YES!

                                            >Need to find the right song, and hurry!

                                            "Come on! Who organized this thing!?"

                                            >"Silver Spoon!? Wipe your hooves before you get eaten! It's filthy enough as it is!"

                                            "Gee, bucking THANKS, DD'S MOM. Couldn't just tell me to run, or remember you, or get help, no it's just DON'T MAKE THIS GIANT STOMACH A PERCENT OF A PERCENT NASTIER, HUH?"

                                            >"I never! Do not speak to me like that- my Diamond Tiara will require a servant to be buried with her! You should be grateful I even considered you!"

                                            >"YOU SUCK, MOM! SHUDDUP!"

                                            >Oh crud, are those walls cracking?

                                            >AAAAAA

                                            "Aha! Eighties music! Granny always said this made her want to take action!"

                                            >But which one? Humans often got weird about how they named music

                                            >No time! Trust your gut, and you'll stay outta that gut!

                                            "Eye of the Tiger - Survivor... YES. I would like to survive the eye of this tiger!"

                                            >You boop the play button with your snoot and wait

                                            >For a little bit it seems like nothing is happening

                                            >You can hear the faint bass coming from the bluetooth inside the chimera, at least


                                            >"Is tha-a-a-a-at all? Giving us some mu-u-u-u-usic with dinner? That's kinda ni-i-i-ice, kid. Wish more ponies would cooperate like you-u-u-u-u- OW! OWWWWWWWWW!"

                                            "Did you forget, you big jerk? Ponies LOVE montages!"

                                            >You watch in silent triumph as the chimera is torn apart from the inside, its victims guided by a war ballad whose words they know not in their brains but in their hearts

                                            >Did I say triumph? Because this is pretty gross and maybe having your brains scrambled is a blessing

                                            >When the song finally ends, everypony inside the chimera was converted back from an entree to a pony

                                            >Likewise the chimera was converted to a dead, twitching, disgusting pile of chewed hayburger patty

                                            >"Oh ye GODS, my EVERYTHING is ruined!"

                                            >"Lighten up, Rarity- at least we're not turning into catgoatsnake poop anymore!"

                                            >Diamond Tiara kicks her mother into the pile of various fluids formerly known as Chimera and runs to you

                                            "NO NO NO DO NOT HUG ME NO NO- Oh crud, EWWWWWWWWWWWW"

                                            >"thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou"

                                            "STOP NUZZLING ME! YOU'RE RUBBING IT IN!"

                                            >You're too distracted by this effluent embrace to notice the shadow of purple wings over you

                                            >"AHEM."

                                            >Princess Twilight Sparkle is looking very... uh... you can't place that expression, really

                                            >"How on earth did you do that!? We'd been trying to- hang on, that's OUR- I mean, that is to say-"

                                            "You run a super secret agency that stops weird stuff- like the stuff that's too weird to even admit it exists. Yeah, I know, you guys really aren't hard to spot if you're paying any attention."

                                            >Seriously, did they think nopony would notice all the out-of-towners making secret knocks at 1am?

                                            "Just scramble my brains and get it over with. Not like I NEEDED those memories of the foster mother who-"

                                            >You pause for a moment, raising your voice in Spoiled Bitch's direction

                                            "WAS ACTUALLY BEST MOMMY! or anything."

                                            >"How did- ugh, no, I'm tired of that hurtful stereotype- amnestics are a LAST RESORT. We're not stinkin' SMILE!"

                                            "So- no brain wipe?"

                                            >"That depends on two questions, I suppose. Sorry- traumatized ponies are the number two risk for villainy, right behind royalty."

                                            "I'm listening."

                                            >"Am I correct in assuming you can comprehend the language on that music box? If so, are you willing to leverage that knowledge for princess and country?"

                                            >Hmmm. Go back home with your 'sister' whose mother will abuse you and deny you snackies? Or, become a modern-day knight, fight monsters, and learn more weird stuff in a day than most stuck-up unicorn mages learned in a lifetime?

                                            "Conditionally, yes and yes."

                                            >"Go on."

                                            "Erase as much of Spoiled Rich's memory as it takes to undo her nastiness. Non-negotiable, I won't leave my friend with a mother like that. Negotiable: Find a way to get them to pay for all your cool stuff, call it Spoiled's redemption story or something."

                                            >"Hmm. I think we can work something out- I'll get my agents together, we'll sort the details out at a sleepover. Your house."


                                            >END INCIDENT LOG