Larsen was referring to an incident where a staff member named Joseph had typed in “a cup of joe,” and, instead of dispensing coffee, the machine dispensed a cup of Joseph’s own blood, stomach acid, and other undesirable bodily fluids.
Benson smiled, and shook his head.
“You’re not the one for jokes, Doctor Larsen, sir.”
The doctor smiled back, and responded:
“I guess. Being an employee here has changed me.”
The guard nodded.
“It’s changed all of us...not for the better, mostly.”
Larsen nodded sensibly, and was suddenly reminded of why he had come here in the first place.
“Oh, em, I brought this to cheer everyone up. Found him in the hallway.”
Wyatt revealed SCP-999, which was making cooing noises.
Benson bent down low to look at the thing.
He gently poked 999 in the gut, making the slimy creature giggle delightedly.
In the very corner of the room, almost hidden in plain sight, was a coffee machine. It was fairly normal-looking; boxy and rectangular, with a picture of a coffee cup printed on the top. However, the only thing different with this coffee machine was that it had a computer keyboard sticking out the front. Doctor Larsen decided to do a test on it.
He walked over to the machine, keeping SCP-999 hidden from view, bent over, and typed:
The machine whirred, creaked and beeped, shaking and rumbling, until, at last, out came a small paper cup. Larsen picked it up, and examined it. The liquid dispensed was a dull silvery color, and was incredibly heavy.
Wyatt Larsen gently set the cup down, and ordered another thing:
IMPOSSIBLY TASTY COFFEE
Again, the machine obliged, and out came a small, steaming, dark cup of coffee. And, exactly as the doctor ordered, pun intended, it tasted impossibly delicious.
Yes, there was no doubt about it; this was no ordinary coffee machine. This was yet another strange object contained in the facility: SCP-294, a sentient coffee machine that could dispense anything that could exist in liquid form. Many of The Foundation’s staff had gotten their paychecks early from typing GOLD into the machine. And that was the reason there was a guard positioned in front of it.
“I’ll take you with me,” he said, “I have a few friends who could use some cheering up.”
More giggling from the little anomaly.
The SCP in hand, Doctor Larsen made his way up to the second floor, where the employee lounge was located. He made his way through the drab white hallways, and came across a grey door, with a large sign above it reading:
– LOUNGEROOM –
DO NOT USE DURING NON-BREAK PERIODS
The doctor inserted his keycard into a rectangular grey terminal on the left of the door. A light on the terminal flashed green after a few seconds, and the door slid open.
The room was all white with a grey ceiling. However, the floors were made of fine, polished oak, which gave the lounge a homier feel. Scattered around were many red sofas, armchairs, and a few modern glass tables, some with chessboards, others with laptops or papers. On one side of the room was a gigantic television, slotted into the wall. Currently, there were a few grim-looking scientists sitting on the couches, their eyes fixated on the TV. It was on the Sports Channel. Football.