Dangerous Assumptions

Lamarr stepped out of the shower and glanced at his phone. He saw a message from an “Agent Harold Folletti” and decided he could deal with it later. He dressed quickly is his business suit and grabbed his fob. If he was lucky he would get to the store just before too many people showed up.

He felt the spray of water on his face. 

 “JAX! Put that gun down!”

He heard plastic on wood followed by giggling as a four-year-old disappeared down the hall. His eyes rolled and and he grabbed the clear plastic water pistol. He looked at for a moment; since they had bought in that antique store for a quarter Jax had not stopped playing with it to the consternation of his mother. He smiled as he put the water pistol in his coat pocket and headed for the door.

“Gena, I'm out of here! See you at dinner!”

He headed out the door to his vehicle. As he pulled out of the driveway a cheap sedan pulled in. A heavy-set Italian man in a crumpled suit practically rushed out of the car a he turned the corner.

He soon arrived at Lippstein Jewelry and parked in his usual spot. He saw Jenkins and waved. “I saw the game, man; I'll have the ten at lunch!” Jenkins gave him a thumbs up. He then hustled to the front door; he had lost the bet by a Hail Mary to the end goal and the idiot running back had actually caught the ball. His team only had three seconds for a final play. He reached the door with keys in hand; only two other people were there. He apologized and opened the door.

He made a mental note to take his shower ten minutes earlier; he should be the first one here and he hadn't the last few days. The store was up and going within minutes and Marsha's drawer was counted and ready to go; he didn't know why he bothered outside of tradition as their customers only used plastic to purchase their jewelry.

Just as they were set up, there was a burst of activity as two heavyset brutes burst in, faces masked, rifles at the ready. Lamarr's eyes rolled a he reached for the silent alarm. This was only the second robbery since he had bought the store from Sherman Lippstein two years ago; he had implemented upgrades since then. The security guard should stand down; however, it should take them about 30 seconds to deal with the guard. They should then take about 90 seconds to grab as much jewelry as possible, maybe some gems. They should then take about 15 seconds to deal with the cash register.

A total of approximately 2:15.

Unfortunately for them the cafe next door had a great chicken and waffle that was popular with the local cops.

Thus, Lamarr was hardly surprised when four cops, none of whom were incredibly happy to be there, took up positions just outside the shop, weapons at the ready.

While the robbers were busy grabbing, his crew had virtually disappeared into the back room and slammed the door shut. With only the guard left in the showroom, the robbers quickly gave up. He walked out to thank the policemen, but as he walked forward he noticed a weight in his pocket. He reached in, grabbed it, and pulled it out.

A cop noticed what he had pulled out and aimed his pistol at Lamarr. “PUT THAT DOWN!” The man's partner soon had his pistol also trained on Lamarr.

Lamarr looked at what was in his hand and panicked. He put his hands up. Before he could even get his hands past his chest, the two policemen fired three times each. Lamarr fell. The scene was quickly taped off as one cop called it in and the other called the shop steward.

Agent Folletti drove up and parked his car. He flashed a badge at the cops and asked what had happened. He glared at the reporting cop, but felt bad as the cop winced. He walked over to Lamarr's body while putting on a pair of gloves and bent down. He took out an evidence bag and put the SIG Sauer Lamarr still held in his hands in the bag. “Should have answered my message, poor sod.”

He walked past the cops, telling them that it would be all right. He knew their body cams would clear them even as they lost the civil suit. He got in his vehicle and drove off, a water pistol in the bag next to him.

SCP 5154: The Bad Optics Water Pistol

Class: Safe

Description: This normally looks like a small clear water pistol, and can even be used as such. However, it becomes a SIG Sauer pistol when the person carrying it is within 10 m of a uniformed police officer.

History: The water pistol first popped in the Watts riots and has yet to really disappear. The pistol usually finds it way into the hands of someone with some sort of criminal record or other reputation of problems with law enforcement. Everything is fine, the person has a lot of fun with the water pistol, and its a great little toy. However, the person will eventually encounter the police for whatever reason, and then find themselves in possession of a firearm. Suffice to say that the person will usually end up being fired upon as they attempt to figure out where the firearm came from even as the cop see someone they know can pose a threat who now has a firearm.

Containment: The pistol is usually kept in a storage locker.

Effect: As long as the pistol is kept away from any uniformed law enforcement, it appears and acts like a clear plastic water pistol; it can be filled with approximately .1 l of liquid and used to squirt others. However, within 10 m of a uniformed law enforcement officer, it takes on the appearance of P238 SIG Sauer pistol. However, it retains the ability to squirt water, even if it can't be reloaded, and is physically incapable of firing bullets.

The Phantom Freshman

Jaxton exited the car, the ancient backpack in hand. He had been told that he just had to walk about 50 meters drop the backpack, and stay there for twenty minutes. After that he could do whatever he wanted. The Institute had even given him a $1500 debit card and promised to wipe his record. He smiled as he walked off, expecting to be in Tulsa by morning. The weather wasn't bad for an October evening.

The spot he had been told to drop the backpack off was as unremarkable as the backpack, which only had a pair of huge slug patches on it. He checked the digital watch he had been given, and noted that he could walk at 8:23.

Before he could get bored he heard someone jogging. He turned to see a thin adolescent wearing nothing but running shoes running in his direction. He smiled at the poor kid. The kid slowed down and kneeled to open the backpack.

He grabbed his underwear first. “Thanks for waiting. I was sure the campus security would have chased you off.”

He watched the boy get dressed. “Yeah, no problem.” The boy was a little thin for him, but it had been a long ten years in prison.

The boy zipped his pants. “Man, this is so unlike home. You would never be able to do something like this in Idaho.”

Jaxton mentally fingered the debit card in his pocket. “Sort of a brisk night, isn't it?”

He slipped on his sweatshirt. “Yeah. There's a nice little coffee shop in Kresge. Great bagels.”

Jaxton debated if he could seduce the boy over a cup of coffee. “Lots of cream cheese?”

The kid tied his shoes. “Yeah. Nice and toasted.” The kid sighed, then stood up, grabbed the backpack, and started walking off.

Before Jaxton could yell after him, he suddenly felt itchy all over. He glanced at his hands; his skin dried, became powdery, blew off into the wind even as he watched. Before he could truly panic, the skin had blown away. Before he could scream, even his bones were reduced to ash.

Ten minutes later an agent retrieved the backpack and Jaxton's clothes. The backpack was a meter further from the body than expected; the lab boys would be excited over that! The agent silently mused to himself that it was somewhat sad that the debit card hadn't been used in the five years since it had been minted,but there was no way he was going to use it. At The Institute you did as you were told to avoid any ramifications, and he hadn't been told he could use card.

He drove off into the night. The backpack would be back in its locker before midnight.

SCP 1968: The College Backpack

Class: Euclid

Description: The backpack is a brown canvas backpack with banana slug patches.

Containment: The backpack can be kept in a standard security locker. It must be watched: Every year around October 13 the backpack fills with one set of clothes (a pair of brass spectacles, a University of California sweatshirt, a white T-shirt, a pair y-front underwear, a pair of white socks with green stripes at the top, and a pair of jeans with belt, wallet containing student identification, and sundry items). When this happens the backpack must be delivered to a specific location, preferably by an ephebofiliac anthrophage; after approximately thirty minutes it may be retrieved with no safety hazards.

Effect: If the preferred subject makes the delivery, the subject will meet a naked college freshmen who retrieves the backpack and dresses. The young man then walks off. When he reaches a point approximately 20 meters from the subject, the subject glow will calcify and then crumble; all that remains of the subject is his clothes and other belongings. The young man simply disappears. The backpack may then be retrieved safely.

If these events are not followed then the backpack with the force of a pound of plastic explosive.

History: In 1989 Santa Cruz college freshman/chemistry major Charles Anton Page was dared by several other freshmen to streak on University of California, Santa Cruz, campus; they had been joking around about how life was different in college and one of the boys brought up that the campus was clothing optional. They had taken Page's backpack and were waiting for him when they were chased off by campus security. His partially eaten remains were later found at the scene of a house that had exploded due to a chemical explosion. Strangely, there were no other chemicals in the area than those surrounding the backpack. Upon further investigation, other bodies were found; the house had been the lair of an anthrophage who preferred young male victims.

His backpack was returned to his parents along with the rest of his belongings, and removed to the garage. Over the next few years, the garage exploded yet the backpack remained undamaged. An insurance report was filed each year and eventually The Institute received news of the backpack.

The means of the containment were determined through research (the location was where Page was taken, the time was when he was taken, and the preferred subject was based on the alleged crime of the owner of the home). While it the Ethics Committee has debated asking the site administrator to just let the backpack explode, the radius and power of the explosion exponentially for each anniversary missed. Considering that it was been determined to just follow procedure to avoid a potentially larger explosion.