WEBVTT Kind: captions Language: en 00:00:00.229 --> 00:00:02.510 The Foundation Field Agents are overwhelmed. 00:00:02.510 --> 00:00:09.080 They’re forced to the ground, beaten and subdued, then dragged into the darkness, screaming. 00:00:09.080 --> 00:00:11.290 Their weapons and training mean nothing. 00:00:11.290 --> 00:00:16.250 And the strangest part of all - The people doing this to them are grinning Texans, wearing 00:00:16.250 --> 00:00:18.450 cheesy Christmas sweaters. 00:00:18.450 --> 00:00:22.620 The Prisoner feels the light bleeding between the curtains, stirring him from a restless 00:00:22.620 --> 00:00:23.650 sleep. 00:00:23.650 --> 00:00:27.960 Going to bed and retaining any hope that he’d get a reprieve from the days ahead had long 00:00:27.960 --> 00:00:29.779 since become impossible. 00:00:29.779 --> 00:00:34.920 He used to dream of places he’d go, things he’d do with his life, instead of repeating 00:00:34.920 --> 00:00:39.570 the exact same cycle day in and day out. 00:00:39.570 --> 00:00:43.950 Forcing himself up and out of bed, he tries to remind himself that it’s just another 00:00:43.950 --> 00:00:47.610 day, one more day in purgatory. 00:00:47.610 --> 00:00:51.420 He doesn’t see it ever stopping and doesn’t bother imagining being free. 00:00:51.420 --> 00:00:56.899 It’s about living through each day as it comes, one at a time, with one constant goal: 00:00:56.899 --> 00:00:57.899 survival. 00:00:57.899 --> 00:01:03.360 He looks towards the foot of his bed and sees the uniform, the overalls he has to don every 00:01:03.360 --> 00:01:04.360 day. 00:01:04.360 --> 00:01:09.159 They’d once been a novelty, but now they are his camouflage, his way of keeping under 00:01:09.159 --> 00:01:14.100 the radar so he can make it through just one more day like any other. 00:01:14.100 --> 00:01:18.580 The street gleams with the eye-searing, garish colors coming through the curtains all night 00:01:18.580 --> 00:01:19.580 long. 00:01:19.580 --> 00:01:23.930 The bright, over-saturated twinkling is made all the worse against the clear white backdrop 00:01:23.930 --> 00:01:28.820 of artificial snow that coats the streets and sidewalks, crunching underfoot, as well 00:01:28.820 --> 00:01:32.730 as being sprayed all over every house as far as the eye can see. 00:01:32.730 --> 00:01:37.820 It directly juxtaposes the sweltering Texas heat; seeing the ground strewn with fake snow 00:01:37.820 --> 00:01:41.829 and the buildings draped in lights doesn’t mix with the unbearable heat the Prisoner 00:01:41.829 --> 00:01:46.210 feels inside the fur of his uniform and the sweat from the false beard that covers half 00:01:46.210 --> 00:01:47.329 of his face. 00:01:47.329 --> 00:01:51.560 The sound of people approaching almost causes his heart to burst from his chest, beating 00:01:51.560 --> 00:01:52.560 a mile a minute. 00:01:52.560 --> 00:01:57.640 He can’t let them see him like this, he tells himself, and takes a deep breath. 00:01:57.640 --> 00:02:01.310 Sticking out the padding strapped over his stomach, he lowers the tone of his natural 00:02:01.310 --> 00:02:06.510 voice – a trick that has become second nature to him, out of necessity rather than dedicated 00:02:06.510 --> 00:02:10.580 practice – and then, he begins to sing. 00:02:10.580 --> 00:02:15.570 Every word to It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year by Andy Williams is even more 00:02:15.570 --> 00:02:20.540 familiar than his own name, forever etched onto the surface of his brain so that he can 00:02:20.540 --> 00:02:23.489 recall them with perfect accuracy should the moment require. 00:02:23.489 --> 00:02:30.189 He’s learned them all, every lyric of every song; Brenda Lee, Wizzard, Dean Martin, Slade 00:02:30.189 --> 00:02:35.690 – even that one by Mariah Carey that now sounds like fingernails dragged down a chalkboard 00:02:35.690 --> 00:02:37.489 every time he recites it. 00:02:37.489 --> 00:02:42.530 Memorized down to every beat so that, as he walks down the street singing as loudly as 00:02:42.530 --> 00:02:46.200 possible, nobody pays him any attention at all. 00:02:46.200 --> 00:02:50.790 As this walking festive jukebox of a man walks down the street, he notices the passers-by. 00:02:50.790 --> 00:02:54.260 There are three of them, two adults and a child. 00:02:54.260 --> 00:02:57.250 Things that look like people but aren’t. 00:02:57.250 --> 00:03:02.300 Maybe they once were, before they were hollowed out and had all their thoughts replaced with… 00:03:02.300 --> 00:03:05.540 Those smiles are always the most unnerving thing about them. 00:03:05.540 --> 00:03:10.650 They’re too wide across their faces, like every muscle in their jaws has been stretched 00:03:10.650 --> 00:03:12.920 just a bit too far. 00:03:12.920 --> 00:03:19.540 Add to that their eyes, staring unblinkingly at the Prisoner as he walks by, almost expectantly. 00:03:19.540 --> 00:03:25.299 He bellows in his jolliest sounding voice, wishing them all a ‘Merry Christmas to all 00:03:25.299 --> 00:03:29.460 and to all a good night’, despite it being the middle of the day. 00:03:29.460 --> 00:03:34.690 He hears their passing footsteps collectively stop, and a panicked bead of icy sweat crawls 00:03:34.690 --> 00:03:35.700 down his spine. 00:03:35.700 --> 00:03:36.950 Have they noticed? 00:03:36.950 --> 00:03:40.970 Did he just make enough of a slip-up for them to pounce on it? 00:03:40.970 --> 00:03:46.569 Turning to face them, he offers a jovial wave and the stereotypical deep laugh, hoping that 00:03:46.569 --> 00:03:48.910 it’ll be enough for them to spare him. 00:03:48.910 --> 00:03:54.900 All three stare, their vacant grins indistinguishable from cheer or psychotic rage. 00:03:54.900 --> 00:03:59.569 Then, they all return the wave and echo the same greeting back at him. 00:03:59.569 --> 00:04:03.689 The Prisoner gives a laugh again to placate them, being careful not to show how relieved 00:04:03.689 --> 00:04:07.340 he is, before he continues on his merry way. 00:04:07.340 --> 00:04:10.189 The barrier that surrounded the area seemed to have sprouted overnight. 00:04:10.189 --> 00:04:14.579 A thick concrete wall encircled the neighborhood, topped with what looked to be electrified 00:04:14.579 --> 00:04:16.100 steel cables. 00:04:16.100 --> 00:04:20.900 It hadn’t been there before that one fateful night when all of this had started; someone 00:04:20.900 --> 00:04:23.930 was trying to box them in, keep them contained. 00:04:23.930 --> 00:04:28.780 The Prisoner had just been unlucky enough to be on the wrong side when they – whoever 00:04:28.780 --> 00:04:32.430 they were – sealed off the area, trapping him with the others. 00:04:32.430 --> 00:04:37.200 He’s already worked his way around the circumference of the wall, day in, day out, searching for 00:04:37.200 --> 00:04:41.539 an opening whenever he can slip away from the rest of the neighborhood for long enough. 00:04:41.539 --> 00:04:45.340 He checks over his red fur-coated shoulders to see if anyone’s noticed him. 00:04:45.340 --> 00:04:49.110 The previous group he passed was too busy hanging more blinking fairy lights on their 00:04:49.110 --> 00:04:53.090 house to spot him slipping past, right up to the edge of the neighborhood. 00:04:53.090 --> 00:04:56.270 There is a gate; he’d seen that after a month of searching. 00:04:56.270 --> 00:05:00.729 But not only did it stay shut tight, locked by whoever put it there, it’s too close 00:05:00.729 --> 00:05:02.630 to the center of the neighborhood. 00:05:02.630 --> 00:05:06.380 If he made any attempt to leave that way, there was no doubt that he’d be spotted 00:05:06.380 --> 00:05:07.699 in an instant. 00:05:07.699 --> 00:05:12.800 And if they see him… he shudders at the thought of what he saw happen to his elves. 00:05:12.800 --> 00:05:18.150 Elves, he thinks to himself; has he really started to go native after only… a year? 00:05:18.150 --> 00:05:20.280 Or has it been two? 00:05:20.280 --> 00:05:21.400 Three? 00:05:21.400 --> 00:05:25.400 The Prisoner forces a thought to the back of his mind: the worrying notion that this 00:05:25.400 --> 00:05:29.210 recurring nightmare might have only lasted a few weeks. 00:05:29.210 --> 00:05:34.910 What if the constant reliving of the same winter holiday has driven him mad already? 00:05:34.910 --> 00:05:38.590 From the sack slung over his shoulder, he produces the two presents he’d been wishing 00:05:38.590 --> 00:05:42.819 for: a rope to scale the wall and a pair of insulated wire cutters. 00:05:42.819 --> 00:05:46.750 Luckily, his next-door neighbors in his apartment building had been taken and left their tools 00:05:46.750 --> 00:05:47.750 behind. 00:05:47.750 --> 00:05:51.979 Finding their apartment empty, with not a creature stirring, had been surreal. 00:05:51.979 --> 00:05:56.180 At least, it was not any less surreal than walking around loudly singing Christmas songs 00:05:56.180 --> 00:05:59.009 with every ounce of enthusiasm he could fake. 00:05:59.009 --> 00:06:03.030 He hurls the rope upwards, trying to hook it around something that can hold his weight. 00:06:03.030 --> 00:06:06.990 Then, just as he secures it, preparing to start his climb… 00:06:06.990 --> 00:06:07.990 Ho. 00:06:07.990 --> 00:06:08.990 Ho. 00:06:08.990 --> 00:06:09.990 Ho. 00:06:09.990 --> 00:06:13.020 He hears the laugh, but not from beneath his own beard. 00:06:13.020 --> 00:06:17.410 The Prisoner cranes his head to look over his shoulder, eyes immediately drawn to another 00:06:17.410 --> 00:06:18.410 figure… 00:06:18.410 --> 00:06:21.900 a man wearing a red and white outfit, exactly like his. 00:06:21.900 --> 00:06:26.430 This Duplicate is handing out presents to a gaggle of children, all their faces locked 00:06:26.430 --> 00:06:30.449 into those too-wide grins with the same vacant eyes. 00:06:30.449 --> 00:06:35.080 Then, as the Duplicate hands a wrapped gift to one of them, he looks up. 00:06:35.080 --> 00:06:41.270 His eyes catch sight of the Prisoner, frozen to the spot with his escape rope in hand. 00:06:41.270 --> 00:06:45.949 Even at a distance, the Prisoner can make out the desperate, subdued shake of the Duplicate’s 00:06:45.949 --> 00:06:46.949 head. 00:06:46.949 --> 00:06:51.580 It’s unclear whether he was trying to non-verbally urge the prisoner not to try and leave or 00:06:51.580 --> 00:06:55.860 was horrified as to what might happen if the things that looked like children caught sight 00:06:55.860 --> 00:06:59.300 of someone else dressed the exact same way. 00:06:59.300 --> 00:07:03.430 And sure enough, one of the widely grinning children follows the Duplicate’s gaze to 00:07:03.430 --> 00:07:04.430 see the Prisoner. 00:07:04.430 --> 00:07:09.960 Like a school of piranhas catching the scent of blood in the water, they all turn to look. 00:07:09.960 --> 00:07:13.150 Just like that, the illusion is broken. 00:07:13.150 --> 00:07:16.060 There just couldn’t be two Santa Clauses. 00:07:16.060 --> 00:07:19.300 And they all know what had to be done now. 00:07:19.300 --> 00:07:24.060 The screams of his fellow Mall Santa Duplicate ring out as the horde of children tackle him 00:07:24.060 --> 00:07:27.599 to the ground and start dragging his body across the asphalt. 00:07:27.599 --> 00:07:32.509 They shred his costume, ripping apart the false stomach and wrenching off his beard 00:07:32.509 --> 00:07:35.599 to reveal the ordinary-looking man inside. 00:07:35.599 --> 00:07:40.470 A group of adults emerge as if from nowhere and begin speedily walking towards where the 00:07:40.470 --> 00:07:43.530 Prisoner is still trying to climb to freedom. 00:07:43.530 --> 00:07:47.500 He fumbles with the rope, unable to grip it properly with the mittens he has over both 00:07:47.500 --> 00:07:48.500 hands. 00:07:48.500 --> 00:07:53.039 And the adults are getting closer, not one of them breaking a sweat in their hand-knitted, 00:07:53.039 --> 00:07:56.490 garish festive sweaters as they run right for him. 00:07:56.490 --> 00:08:00.810 He can barely muster the upper body strength to lift himself more than a few off the ground, 00:08:00.810 --> 00:08:03.330 let alone scale the concrete wall in enough time. 00:08:03.330 --> 00:08:09.200 They are already swarming around him, dozens of hands belonging to these wild smiling things, 00:08:09.200 --> 00:08:12.690 all clawing at his Santa suit, trying to drag him back down to earth. 00:08:12.690 --> 00:08:17.169 He fights them off, tries desperately swiping at some while gripping the rope as best he 00:08:17.169 --> 00:08:18.169 can. 00:08:18.169 --> 00:08:21.349 But enough of their fingers hook into the red fur costume. 00:08:21.349 --> 00:08:25.789 Feeling the pain of landing flat on his back and having the wind knocked out of his lungs, 00:08:25.789 --> 00:08:31.970 all the Prisoner sees is the huddle wearing their bright sweaters and unsettling grins, 00:08:31.970 --> 00:08:34.899 their hands reaching down towards him. 00:08:34.899 --> 00:08:40.000 When he wakes up, he’s tied down to a chair in a dark room, his eyes pried open to stop 00:08:40.000 --> 00:08:41.709 him from blinking. 00:08:41.709 --> 00:08:47.920 Then the images start, the songs – all the ones he knows the words to – in a bombardment 00:08:47.920 --> 00:08:50.660 of highly concentrated Christmas cheer. 00:08:50.660 --> 00:08:56.100 It’s unbearable, excruciating… and it lasts for days. 00:08:56.100 --> 00:08:59.959 What emerged afterwards might’ve looked like the Prisoner, without his Santa costume 00:08:59.959 --> 00:09:02.240 to keep him camouflaged anymore. 00:09:02.240 --> 00:09:08.480 Instead, he has on a horrible Christmas sweater, a wide grin… and a single tear falling from 00:09:08.480 --> 00:09:10.089 his eye. 00:09:10.089 --> 00:09:14.320 When the SCP Foundation installed fences around one of the neighborhoods within a small Texas 00:09:14.320 --> 00:09:19.300 township, turning the area into an isolated gated hamlet, there was never any indication 00:09:19.300 --> 00:09:24.620 that they might have just condemned a pair of innocent mall Santas to a terrible fate. 00:09:24.620 --> 00:09:30.260 Welcome to SCP-784, which at first seems to be nothing more than a safe slice of suburban 00:09:30.260 --> 00:09:33.800 living, made up of twenty-four houses and two apartment buildings. 00:09:33.800 --> 00:09:38.770 For outsiders looking in, to call it a neighborhood seems like a bit of a misnomer – it’s 00:09:38.770 --> 00:09:40.029 more of a sleigh-bourhood. 00:09:40.029 --> 00:09:45.150 It’s evident by the multicolored fairy lights that adorn these homes and hang overhead in 00:09:45.150 --> 00:09:50.140 the street between them, that the local residents have something of an infatuation with a certain 00:09:50.140 --> 00:09:51.140 holiday. 00:09:51.140 --> 00:09:55.880 In fact, they’re so dedicated to celebrating that it’s not just one day out of the year; 00:09:55.880 --> 00:09:58.870 it’s every day of every year. 00:09:58.870 --> 00:10:04.440 And if that sounds like your idea of hell, then just wait until you meet the neighbors. 00:10:04.440 --> 00:10:09.870 Inhabiting the area designated as SCP-784 is a group of approximately three hundred 00:10:09.870 --> 00:10:14.130 anomalous entities that very closely resemble adult human beings. 00:10:14.130 --> 00:10:17.600 That is, save for a few crucial differences. 00:10:17.600 --> 00:10:22.040 For one, while all of these residents appear to age at the same rate as normal people, 00:10:22.040 --> 00:10:24.750 not one has been observed actually dying. 00:10:24.750 --> 00:10:27.340 They seem to just… keep going. 00:10:27.340 --> 00:10:32.240 They carry on living the same day, the same holiday, over and over again on a loop in 00:10:32.240 --> 00:10:33.820 perpetuity. 00:10:33.820 --> 00:10:39.561 While these residents – collectively called SCP-784-1- will continue getting older, there 00:10:39.561 --> 00:10:44.150 never seems to have been any instance of funeral bells ringing instead of jingle bells within 00:10:44.150 --> 00:10:46.090 their strange neighborhood. 00:10:46.090 --> 00:10:51.730 Stranger still about SCP-784 is that, in addition to none of its residents dying, none of them 00:10:51.730 --> 00:10:53.120 are ever born either. 00:10:53.120 --> 00:10:56.490 But then, how do any of them exist? 00:10:56.490 --> 00:11:01.700 Despite there being evidence of child instances of SCP-784-1 clearly running around, there 00:11:01.700 --> 00:11:05.840 has not been a recorded birth in the area for as long as the Foundation has had it under 00:11:05.840 --> 00:11:06.920 observation. 00:11:06.920 --> 00:11:13.790 They simply are, existing in perpetuity with no discernible start or observable conclusion. 00:11:13.790 --> 00:11:19.231 There is one common trait among all instances of SCP-784-1, however, and that’s their 00:11:19.231 --> 00:11:24.230 relentless – and often highly aggressive – sense of Christmas cheer. 00:11:24.230 --> 00:11:29.300 They will all wear their most egregious Christmas sweaters at all times, as well as join each 00:11:29.300 --> 00:11:34.050 other in singing Christmas carols, directing and performing in Nativity plays, and drinking 00:11:34.050 --> 00:11:39.269 copious amounts of eggnog all year round, not content with limiting their insistent 00:11:39.269 --> 00:11:42.510 celebration to just the 25th of December. 00:11:42.510 --> 00:11:47.660 While the sun is up, a typical day within SCP-784 sees the various residents exchanging 00:11:47.660 --> 00:11:51.389 gifts with each other or decorating their homes with the various affects of the winter 00:11:51.389 --> 00:11:52.720 festive season. 00:11:52.720 --> 00:11:57.980 The Foundation has often observed them having a particular affinity for fairy lights. 00:11:57.980 --> 00:12:01.850 After dark, however, their preparation for the next day of Christmas seems to step this 00:12:01.850 --> 00:12:06.800 decorating up a notch – becoming more akin to Christmas-themed vandalism. 00:12:06.800 --> 00:12:12.699 One Foundation convoy that had stopped overnight near SCp-784 learned this the hard way, as 00:12:12.699 --> 00:12:17.279 the nearby residents hurled eggs at the prefabricated buildings that were in transit to a Foundation 00:12:17.279 --> 00:12:18.279 site. 00:12:18.279 --> 00:12:22.571 They overhaul one of the Foundation’s Humvees and transform the vehicle into a sleigh, as 00:12:22.571 --> 00:12:27.050 well as replace a shipment of fragmentation grenades with glass ornaments. 00:12:27.050 --> 00:12:31.040 The gas tanks of several Foundation vehicles were ruined beyond repair when the residents 00:12:31.040 --> 00:12:36.910 filled them with several liters of eggnog, and rendered – or reindeered – these vehicles 00:12:36.910 --> 00:12:38.149 unusable. 00:12:38.149 --> 00:12:42.160 In addition, steel antlers were found welded onto the safety helmets intended to be issued 00:12:42.160 --> 00:12:44.389 to Foundation personnel. 00:12:44.389 --> 00:12:50.190 The unstoppable Christmas cheer of SCP-784-1 instances will become an act of intentional 00:12:50.190 --> 00:12:55.470 aggression if they detect any person or animal that they deem to not be displaying adequate 00:12:55.470 --> 00:12:57.959 levels of Christmas spirit. 00:12:57.959 --> 00:13:01.860 Should they see an animal that they do not feel has successfully embodied the holiday 00:13:01.860 --> 00:13:08.209 spirit, then this creature will become the immediate focus of all SCP-784-1 instances 00:13:08.209 --> 00:13:09.779 within a four-meter radius. 00:13:09.779 --> 00:13:14.639 They will proceed to place a variety of holiday-themed accessories on said animal, which have been 00:13:14.639 --> 00:13:20.079 known to include collars with bells on, novelty reindeer antlers, and miniature Santa hats, 00:13:20.079 --> 00:13:25.850 as well as, on one occasion, a full-body reindeer costume designed to be worn by an animal. 00:13:25.850 --> 00:13:29.740 All things considered, when compared to how the mandatory Christmas spirit is enforced 00:13:29.740 --> 00:13:33.750 on humans, the animals at least get off easier. 00:13:33.750 --> 00:13:37.510 When it comes to spotting people who aren’t quite displaying the high level of Christmas 00:13:37.510 --> 00:13:44.110 cheer expected by the local residents, this can often lead to assaults and violent altercations. 00:13:44.110 --> 00:13:50.180 Any and all nearby SCP-784-1 instances will descend on their unaware victim and proceed 00:13:50.180 --> 00:13:53.860 to incapacitate them by any available means. 00:13:53.860 --> 00:13:57.430 Normally working as a group, not dissimilar from the way you might expect a zombie horde 00:13:57.430 --> 00:14:01.709 to function, the cheerful residents will abduct their target, normally forcibly directing 00:14:01.709 --> 00:14:04.570 them towards the nearest house in the area. 00:14:04.570 --> 00:14:08.880 Once their victim emerges, they will be dressed similarly to the locals, wearing an often 00:14:08.880 --> 00:14:11.180 hand-knitted Christmas sweater. 00:14:11.180 --> 00:14:15.949 From this point on, anything that once resembled their old self seems to have been replaced 00:14:15.949 --> 00:14:21.560 by the singular collective goal of the residents to celebrate Christmas every single day. 00:14:21.560 --> 00:14:25.130 Attempts to retrieve Foundation personnel from this fate all result in the affected 00:14:25.130 --> 00:14:31.320 individual resisting, as well as the action angering other instances of SCP-784-1. 00:14:31.320 --> 00:14:36.350 As for what the residents consider to be acceptable forms of something as intangible as ‘Christmas 00:14:36.350 --> 00:14:40.380 cheer,’ there have been varying examples that indicate their definition of the concept 00:14:40.380 --> 00:14:42.110 is somewhat broad. 00:14:42.110 --> 00:14:48.589 In one encounter between SCP-784-1 and a member of SCP Foundation personnel, one Agent Paulsen 00:14:48.589 --> 00:14:53.889 is patrolling the area when he wishes one of the residents a ‘Happy holidays’. 00:14:53.889 --> 00:14:58.009 This causes around eight of the anomalous entities to surround him, preventing Paulsen 00:14:58.009 --> 00:15:01.529 from escaping and then dragging him into a nearby house. 00:15:01.529 --> 00:15:05.580 During another incident, Foundation Agent Matthews accidentally sings a verse of Silent 00:15:05.580 --> 00:15:10.810 Night incorrectly, and is incapacitated by several of the local residents, who proceed 00:15:10.810 --> 00:15:14.540 to tie him up using a string of decorative fairy lights. 00:15:14.540 --> 00:15:18.950 Another agent, Agent Sanderson, attempts to intervene, only for the two men to both be 00:15:18.950 --> 00:15:23.449 overpowered by a large crowd of SCP-784-1 instances. 00:15:23.449 --> 00:15:27.529 The pair are then also dragged into one of the neighborhood homes, and the sound of Christmas 00:15:27.529 --> 00:15:32.220 carols is heard emanating from within… for several days without stopping. 00:15:32.220 --> 00:15:36.279 After Agent Anderson accidentally collides with and destroys a lawn ornament – a garden 00:15:36.279 --> 00:15:40.860 gnome made to look like Santa Claus, three residents emerge and quickly restrain him. 00:15:40.860 --> 00:15:45.500 A fourth emerges, and Sanderson is then force-fed eggnog through the use of a funnel until he 00:15:45.500 --> 00:15:47.260 passes out. 00:15:47.260 --> 00:15:51.200 Having been made to ingest an extreme amount of the festive drink, Agent Sanderson is then 00:15:51.200 --> 00:15:54.600 taken into the house the eggnog was retrieved from. 00:15:54.600 --> 00:15:58.630 In yet another similar reported incident, Agent Davis makes the mistake of failing to 00:15:58.630 --> 00:16:04.720 show the proper level of enthusiasm when a child instance of SCP-784-1 offers him a gift, 00:16:04.720 --> 00:16:06.870 as is customary for the season. 00:16:06.870 --> 00:16:11.920 As far as Agent Davis likely knows, just accepting the gift is engaging in enough Christmas spirit 00:16:11.920 --> 00:16:12.920 to be spared. 00:16:12.920 --> 00:16:17.030 Unfortunately, he’s quickly proven wrong when he is tackled at the legs, knocking him 00:16:17.030 --> 00:16:21.019 over, before a number of other ‘children’ emerge from a nearby house to drag Davids 00:16:21.019 --> 00:16:24.650 inside before he has any chance to recover. 00:16:24.650 --> 00:16:28.970 Around once every month, the residents of SCP-784 will engage in what the Foundation 00:16:28.970 --> 00:16:32.019 has taken to calling a ‘Noel event’. 00:16:32.019 --> 00:16:37.490 During this time, a group of SCP-784-1 residents will exit the area that they are intended 00:16:37.490 --> 00:16:41.940 to stay contained within and will attempt to gain access to the nearby wider suburban 00:16:41.940 --> 00:16:43.040 area. 00:16:43.040 --> 00:16:47.170 Each one of these instances is carrying a fifteen-meter-long string of Christmas lights 00:16:47.170 --> 00:16:52.110 on their person, and attempts to use these to decorate any house they discover nearby, 00:16:52.110 --> 00:16:56.750 and make them functionally identical to the homes within SCP-784. 00:16:56.750 --> 00:17:00.700 While you might be forgiven for thinking that a little bit of Christmas decoration isn’t 00:17:00.700 --> 00:17:05.179 inherently insidious, it does raise a lot of concern if we consider the possibility 00:17:05.179 --> 00:17:11.530 that the SCP-784-1 instances are attempting to create new territory and instances of Christmas 00:17:11.530 --> 00:17:15.240 loving creatures, thus spreading the holiday’s influence. 00:17:15.240 --> 00:17:19.620 Fortunately, the Foundation is able to predict when a Noel event is likely to take place, 00:17:19.620 --> 00:17:25.850 given that they normally cause the SCP-784-1 instances to increase their usual festivities, 00:17:25.850 --> 00:17:30.490 usually through excessive consumption of eggnog and the presence of additional decorations. 00:17:30.490 --> 00:17:36.549 When expecting a Noel event, Foundation personnel must enact Procedure 784-C; they are to dress 00:17:36.549 --> 00:17:40.900 in Santa outfits and take up positions at the gated exit out of the neighborhood. 00:17:40.900 --> 00:17:45.799 When approached by the residents, these personnel are told to begin singing Good King Wenceslas, 00:17:45.799 --> 00:17:49.890 while also passing around a non-alcoholic substitute for eggnog. 00:17:49.890 --> 00:17:55.150 When SCP-784-1 instances approach, Foundation agents are to distribute eggnog laced with 00:17:55.150 --> 00:17:59.880 a mild sedative among the residents while remaining cheerful at all times. 00:17:59.880 --> 00:18:04.630 Once this sedative-laced eggnog has been disseminated among the locals, Foundation staff are encouraged 00:18:04.630 --> 00:18:08.200 to sing Christmas carols that promote peace and goodwill. 00:18:08.200 --> 00:18:11.799 One of the most effective tools that has been proven to work against these local Christmas 00:18:11.799 --> 00:18:16.880 fanatics is that of Silent Night – providing one can get the words right, unlike poor Agent 00:18:16.880 --> 00:18:17.880 Matthews. 00:18:17.880 --> 00:18:24.100 However, the choice of exactly what should be sung is made by SCP-784-1, and personnel 00:18:24.100 --> 00:18:27.330 are advised to play along and agree. 00:18:27.330 --> 00:18:30.990 If residents begin to sing along with their choice of carol, the sedative from their eggnog 00:18:30.990 --> 00:18:35.370 will cause them to fall unconscious, at which point they are removed and returned to their 00:18:35.370 --> 00:18:39.640 houses, all while trying to avoid any violent responses that might occur if one of these 00:18:39.640 --> 00:18:43.620 sleeping SCP-784-1 instances wakes up. 00:18:43.620 --> 00:18:48.440 Any of the residents that make their way out of the confines of SCP-784 are to be retrieved 00:18:48.440 --> 00:18:51.500 and returned quietly by Foundation personnel. 00:18:51.500 --> 00:18:57.400 In the event that Procedure 784-C is ineffective, the backup plan is to instigate a different 00:18:57.400 --> 00:19:01.950 kind of Silent Night, wherein the Foundation will release aerosolized sleeping gas. 00:19:01.950 --> 00:19:07.549 Active instances of SCP-784-1 are to be restrained and brought back within the wall surrounding 00:19:07.549 --> 00:19:08.620 SCP-784. 00:19:08.620 --> 00:19:14.270 For now, with no known cure for such infectious Christmas cheer, the Foundation has no choice 00:19:14.270 --> 00:19:19.650 but to keep SCP-784 under constant observation, making sure they don traditional Christmas 00:19:19.650 --> 00:19:24.030 clothing should they ever need to venture inside, and ensuring they limit the spread 00:19:24.030 --> 00:19:28.350 of the cheer should any SCP-784-1 instances make it out. 00:19:28.350 --> 00:19:32.190 There’s no telling how quickly that aggressive Christmas spirit would spread if it got out 00:19:32.190 --> 00:19:37.660 of containment, but you can guarantee it’d be a Merry Christmas to all and to all a bad 00:19:37.660 --> 00:19:40.480 night. 00:19:40.480 --> 00:19:50.780 Check out the Dr. Bob Patreon and become a junior researcher today! 00:19:50.780 --> 00:19:56.120 Now go and watch another entry from the files of Dr. Bob, like SCP-4666 The Yule Man!