WEBVTT Kind: captions Language: en 00:00:00.470 --> 00:00:04.400 Seeing that shadowy figure coming towards him makes the Worker turn and run. 00:00:04.400 --> 00:00:08.429 He hasn’t had the time, nor the luxury of freezing on the spot, or waiting for it to 00:00:08.429 --> 00:00:10.710 get closer so he could get a clearer view. 00:00:10.710 --> 00:00:12.620 He just runs. 00:00:12.620 --> 00:00:16.690 With every pace, every hurried, horrified step, comes the mental image of the strange 00:00:16.690 --> 00:00:18.640 figure gaining on him. 00:00:18.640 --> 00:00:22.530 In his head, every movement he catches in the corner of his eye, every shuffling sound 00:00:22.530 --> 00:00:28.250 he detects, the… thing was right behind him, inches away and ready to strike. 00:00:28.250 --> 00:00:31.029 So, he just keeps on running. 00:00:31.029 --> 00:00:33.920 Only seconds ago, it was just standing under a streetlight. 00:00:33.920 --> 00:00:36.330 A ways ahead of the Worker, barely moving. 00:00:36.330 --> 00:00:40.600 He calls out to it, assuming it’s a person, somebody maybe lost or in need of help. 00:00:40.600 --> 00:00:42.770 But then, it steps into the light. 00:00:42.770 --> 00:00:45.489 And it’s not a person at all. 00:00:45.489 --> 00:00:49.079 The head of the suit isn’t on properly, it droops at an angle, like it hasn’t been 00:00:49.079 --> 00:00:51.600 affixed… or is barely hanging on. 00:00:51.600 --> 00:00:56.829 The crude, lazy-eyed face is haphazardly drooping; that, too, isn’t on right, as the entire 00:00:56.829 --> 00:01:00.190 head sways unnervingly with each approaching step. 00:01:00.190 --> 00:01:04.309 Maybe underneath the suit, hiding beneath all that dirty orange fir, still coated in 00:01:04.309 --> 00:01:06.159 grime despite the rain. 00:01:06.159 --> 00:01:10.620 Perhaps there is a person in there, whose arm hefts an old baseball bat as they plod 00:01:10.620 --> 00:01:13.130 closer and closer to the Worker. 00:01:13.130 --> 00:01:15.909 But all he sees is the monster. 00:01:15.909 --> 00:01:20.869 The filthy costume might be clumsily made, but the Worker instantly recognizes the all-too-familiar 00:01:20.869 --> 00:01:23.759 resemblance of an orange cat from a popular comic strip. 00:01:23.759 --> 00:01:28.409 It’s what starts him running… that and the blunt weapon the monster is holding as 00:01:28.409 --> 00:01:31.030 it menacingly makes its way closer. 00:01:31.030 --> 00:01:34.590 The downpour doesn’t let up as the Worker turns a corner, met with the sights of two 00:01:34.590 --> 00:01:37.440 bright, blinding white beams of light cutting through the rain. 00:01:37.440 --> 00:01:39.720 A car, speeding its way down the road. 00:01:39.720 --> 00:01:43.619 It catches the Worker in its headlights, and he starts frantically waving his arms, encased 00:01:43.619 --> 00:01:45.420 in the sodden fabric of his jacket. 00:01:45.420 --> 00:01:46.420 “Help! 00:01:46.420 --> 00:01:47.420 Oh, please! 00:01:47.420 --> 00:01:49.060 Please help me!” he yells. 00:01:49.060 --> 00:01:50.210 “Something’s coming after me! 00:01:50.210 --> 00:01:52.350 I think it’s trying to kill me!” 00:01:52.350 --> 00:01:55.630 The driver doesn’t stop, instead simply cruising past. 00:01:55.630 --> 00:01:59.320 The worker can just about see, through the passenger side window, the vehicle’s sole 00:01:59.320 --> 00:02:03.159 occupant giving him a strange look from inside the safety of his car. 00:02:03.159 --> 00:02:07.600 Almost as quickly as it appears, the car has driven off, its headlights already fading 00:02:07.600 --> 00:02:09.390 from view thanks to the rain. 00:02:09.390 --> 00:02:13.100 What the Worker doesn’t realize is that the driver’s look of confusion wasn’t 00:02:13.100 --> 00:02:16.500 directed at him… but at the thing following him. 00:02:16.500 --> 00:02:21.040 The creature gives a low, animalistic sound, which causes the Worker to spin around. 00:02:21.040 --> 00:02:24.620 Now he sees it, right up close in all its foul, ginger glory. 00:02:24.620 --> 00:02:29.150 A tail dangles lazily from the lower portion of the suit, trailing in puddles laden with 00:02:29.150 --> 00:02:32.930 muck, the water making the fur even dirtier than it already is. 00:02:32.930 --> 00:02:38.030 It’s so close that the awful, pungent stench of the thing hits the Worker’s nostrils, 00:02:38.030 --> 00:02:44.500 a sickening smell that somehow seems to fit with the grim, gross costume and its wearer. 00:02:44.500 --> 00:02:48.900 Seeing the wet, fur-coated suit so close, he realizes that it isn’t covered in the 00:02:48.900 --> 00:02:52.530 soft, plush synthetic coat that he expects a costume like that to be made of. 00:02:52.530 --> 00:02:58.160 It looks real, like actual cat hair, on a huge, humanoid shape, with the legs and arms 00:02:58.160 --> 00:02:59.569 of a man. 00:02:59.569 --> 00:03:03.879 Arms that were midway through swinging a baseball bat right at the Worker’s head. 00:03:03.879 --> 00:03:08.260 He ducks just in time, the dull, wooden bat glancing off the bricks of a nearby building, 00:03:08.260 --> 00:03:10.360 narrowly missing the Worker’s head. 00:03:10.360 --> 00:03:14.099 As it bounces off the wall, the blunt weapon slips from the soggy gloves of the suit and 00:03:14.099 --> 00:03:15.600 clatters to the ground. 00:03:15.600 --> 00:03:20.340 The second he hears the wooden bat land on the floor, the Worker turns his heel and runs 00:03:20.340 --> 00:03:23.920 again, taking advantage of those precious few seconds to get further distance between 00:03:23.920 --> 00:03:25.360 him and his attacker. 00:03:25.360 --> 00:03:29.250 It’s only exactly as he turns his back that he wishes he’d reached for the bat himself 00:03:29.250 --> 00:03:30.770 to fight back. 00:03:30.770 --> 00:03:34.890 Rushing further down the rainswept street, the Worker can hear the heavy, slumping footsteps 00:03:34.890 --> 00:03:36.670 of the suited attacker giving chase. 00:03:36.670 --> 00:03:40.319 He alternates between looking straight ahead, the raindrops streaming down his face and 00:03:40.319 --> 00:03:44.040 getting into his eyes, and daring to glance back over his shoulder. 00:03:44.040 --> 00:03:48.030 Every time he does, he’s met again with the horrifying sight of the suit behind him. 00:03:48.030 --> 00:03:52.120 He wants nothing more than to escape, to get out of this nightmare wherein he is soaked 00:03:52.120 --> 00:03:56.650 head to toe in rainwater and fear, running for his life from someone dressed as the comic 00:03:56.650 --> 00:03:58.700 strip cat he sees every day. 00:03:58.700 --> 00:04:02.930 But as strong as his will to escape is, he can’t bear to let the fur-suited pursuer 00:04:02.930 --> 00:04:04.750 out of his sight for even a second. 00:04:04.750 --> 00:04:07.129 If he can’t see it, then it might be anywhere. 00:04:07.129 --> 00:04:10.989 At least looking told him that it was still right behind him, bearing down on the Worker 00:04:10.989 --> 00:04:13.159 with its bat now firmly back in hand. 00:04:13.159 --> 00:04:17.919 The shrill noise of chainlinks rattling sounds behind him, as the attacker in the suit starts 00:04:17.919 --> 00:04:22.440 striking a nearby fence, making the Worker more and more aware that, with every strike, 00:04:22.440 --> 00:04:24.090 it’s getting closer… 00:04:24.090 --> 00:04:27.840 Through the relentless downpour, the Worker spots a shape standing on the sidewalk, just 00:04:27.840 --> 00:04:29.010 a few feet ahead. 00:04:29.010 --> 00:04:33.479 Short, stationary, something he sees every day of his life but never pays any notice 00:04:33.479 --> 00:04:34.479 to. 00:04:34.479 --> 00:04:38.479 But tonight, it might just be the thing that saves his life: a trash can. 00:04:38.479 --> 00:04:43.690 It’s full, and that means heavy, and any second now, he’ll be close enough to reach 00:04:43.690 --> 00:04:44.690 it. 00:04:44.690 --> 00:04:49.240 A plan forms in seconds, erupting like a fire with gasoline thrown on it - if that gasoline 00:04:49.240 --> 00:04:54.310 was pure, terrified adrenaline of being chased by someone in an orange cat costume. 00:04:54.310 --> 00:04:58.699 Reaching out, as soon as his fingertips grip the wet metal rim of the can, the Worker pulls 00:04:58.699 --> 00:05:02.400 as hard as possible, his instincts keeping him from stopping running. 00:05:02.400 --> 00:05:06.790 The trash can clatters behind him as he passes, followed by the heavy thud of the attacker 00:05:06.790 --> 00:05:11.610 falling to the ground as it trips over the obstacle and lands furry head first in the 00:05:11.610 --> 00:05:13.990 garbage now strewn over the sidewalk. 00:05:13.990 --> 00:05:17.669 The Worker knows he’s only got another short window, another blessing of a precious few 00:05:17.669 --> 00:05:20.400 seconds to get far enough away from his attacker. 00:05:20.400 --> 00:05:24.550 He turns, changing course to rush across the street; there’s an old warehouse over there. 00:05:24.550 --> 00:05:27.340 If there are security guards working, they might be able to help. 00:05:27.340 --> 00:05:31.160 If not, and the place is unguarded, then at least it could be somewhere to hide. 00:05:31.160 --> 00:05:35.130 A sudden, blaring noise pierces the Worker’s eardrums before he can make it all the way 00:05:35.130 --> 00:05:36.310 to the opposite sidewalk. 00:05:36.310 --> 00:05:40.449 It’s a horn, coupled with a bright pair of lights appearing as if from nowhere. 00:05:40.449 --> 00:05:43.080 Then, before he can turn to see it coming… 00:05:43.080 --> 00:05:44.090 Impact. 00:05:44.090 --> 00:05:48.140 First, against the hood of the car, speeding through the rain towards him, unable to stop 00:05:48.140 --> 00:05:49.140 in enough time. 00:05:49.140 --> 00:05:54.039 Next, the pain of hitting the jagged blacktop of the road, the second impact as the Worker 00:05:54.039 --> 00:05:58.789 lands a few feet away, spots of rain still pattering against his face as everything goes 00:05:58.789 --> 00:06:01.240 from dark to pitch black for a few seconds. 00:06:01.240 --> 00:06:05.690 His head floods with scenes from earlier that day, as if his life was about to start flashing 00:06:05.690 --> 00:06:07.789 before his eyes - only in reverse. 00:06:07.789 --> 00:06:12.699 The news of the comic strip doing poorly arrives at the Paws Inc office, and with it, the knowledge 00:06:12.699 --> 00:06:15.819 that - if there are going to be layoffs - then he’ll be first. 00:06:15.819 --> 00:06:17.610 He’s the new hire, after all. 00:06:17.610 --> 00:06:21.970 It didn’t matter that the once-beloved comic of a cartoon cat is losing its popularity, 00:06:21.970 --> 00:06:24.270 going stale after so many years in print. 00:06:24.270 --> 00:06:28.160 It upset the investors, and the Worker has been worrying all day if he’d be the one 00:06:28.160 --> 00:06:30.170 fired to appease them. 00:06:30.170 --> 00:06:33.050 Until he suddenly remembers what’s coming after him. 00:06:33.050 --> 00:06:36.990 Fighting back and clawing his way back to consciousness, he struggles back to his feet, 00:06:36.990 --> 00:06:37.990 screaming with pain. 00:06:37.990 --> 00:06:41.880 He’s injured, that much he can certainly tell, even if he doesn’t know how badly. 00:06:41.880 --> 00:06:43.199 “Hey, hey, mister!” 00:06:43.199 --> 00:06:46.680 the driver calls, stopping his car and starting to climb out of the vehicle. 00:06:46.680 --> 00:06:50.669 It’s a different driver and car this time, and unlike the first, he makes the effort 00:06:50.669 --> 00:06:54.440 to stop… a mistake that is about to cost him greatly. 00:06:54.440 --> 00:06:57.150 He sees the Worker getting back up, ignoring his calls. 00:06:57.150 --> 00:06:59.910 He raises his voice to cut through the noise of the pouring rain. 00:06:59.910 --> 00:07:00.910 “Hey! 00:07:00.910 --> 00:07:01.910 Are you okay? 00:07:01.910 --> 00:07:03.259 I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you! 00:07:03.259 --> 00:07:06.879 My lights were on low, wipers were going, it wasn’t until you rushed out across the 00:07:06.879 --> 00:07:07.879 street that… 00:07:07.879 --> 00:07:09.810 Anyway, look, let me at least get you to a hospital! 00:07:09.810 --> 00:07:13.259 We can exchange our insurance information once they get you all patched up!” 00:07:13.259 --> 00:07:14.560 The Worker wasn’t listening. 00:07:14.560 --> 00:07:18.310 He hears the driver’s words but pays him no mind; he’s still so intent on getting 00:07:18.310 --> 00:07:20.670 away that it takes him a second to realize. 00:07:20.670 --> 00:07:21.670 The car. 00:07:21.670 --> 00:07:23.340 It’s a way out. 00:07:23.340 --> 00:07:28.690 And then, the Worker makes the same mistake as the driver… he stops. 00:07:28.690 --> 00:07:33.190 And when he does, he sees what has clambered back to its fur-coated feet and is now shuffling 00:07:33.190 --> 00:07:34.280 towards the driver. 00:07:34.280 --> 00:07:35.449 “Look out!” 00:07:35.449 --> 00:07:36.540 the Worker yells. 00:07:36.540 --> 00:07:38.770 The driver turns, just in time to see. 00:07:38.770 --> 00:07:40.520 “What in the hell?” he exclaims. 00:07:40.520 --> 00:07:43.889 “Wait a minute, why are you dressed in a Garfield costume?” 00:07:43.889 --> 00:07:44.889 Whack. 00:07:44.889 --> 00:07:48.600 The sound of the bat being swung at the driver makes the Worker feel sick. 00:07:48.600 --> 00:07:52.400 He turns his back and moves as quickly as he can towards the warehouse, despite the 00:07:52.400 --> 00:07:55.900 pain and the horrified screams coming from behind. 00:07:55.900 --> 00:08:00.440 Beneath the rain, there’s something else; a twisted, vile squelching noise that quickly 00:08:00.440 --> 00:08:02.950 snuffs out the driver’s dying cries. 00:08:02.950 --> 00:08:04.759 The Worker doesn’t dare to look back this time. 00:08:04.759 --> 00:08:07.419 He doesn’t want to see what’s happening. 00:08:07.419 --> 00:08:11.100 Lifting a heavy metal shutter, and pulling it shut behind him, he finds himself in the 00:08:11.100 --> 00:08:12.100 warehouse. 00:08:12.100 --> 00:08:13.150 It’s completely deserted. 00:08:13.150 --> 00:08:15.030 There isn’t a single sign of any life anywhere. 00:08:15.030 --> 00:08:19.010 The only sound is the pattering of rainwater against the hard concrete floor, dripping 00:08:19.010 --> 00:08:20.460 through a hole in the ceiling. 00:08:20.460 --> 00:08:24.430 Guided by the low, glowing light of the streetlamps outside that bleeds through the warehouse 00:08:24.430 --> 00:08:28.659 windows, the Worker starts fumbling around for a place to hide. 00:08:28.659 --> 00:08:32.860 Just as he crawls underneath a large pallet rack, he hears a metallic rattling as the 00:08:32.860 --> 00:08:35.279 fur-suited monstrosity lifts up the shutter. 00:08:35.279 --> 00:08:36.880 It’s inside. 00:08:36.880 --> 00:08:41.310 With heavy, plodding steps in its suit, it paces up and down the aisles of discarded 00:08:41.310 --> 00:08:42.479 shelving. 00:08:42.479 --> 00:08:47.190 The Worker clamps his soaked hands against his mouth, trying to mask his panicked breathing… 00:08:47.190 --> 00:08:51.740 only to let out a scream as he feels something grab his ankle and pull. 00:08:51.740 --> 00:08:55.880 With ease, the thing dressed as a disheveled Garfield pulls him out of his hiding place. 00:08:55.880 --> 00:08:59.649 Instinctively, the Worker thrashes his legs, landing a solid kick to the creature. 00:08:59.649 --> 00:09:04.040 As his foot connects, he notices it doesn’t feel like a person underneath the suit. 00:09:04.040 --> 00:09:08.540 There’s no body, no familiar outline of a human being beneath all the soggy fur and 00:09:08.540 --> 00:09:09.540 stench. 00:09:09.540 --> 00:09:11.130 It’s just a slimy mass. 00:09:11.130 --> 00:09:16.610 Nonetheless, the kick knocks the garish Garfield back - only a few paces, but better than nothing. 00:09:16.610 --> 00:09:20.880 He scrabbles to his feet, standing and running as fast as he can in the opposite direction… 00:09:20.880 --> 00:09:23.420 only to hit a wall at the far side of the warehouse. 00:09:23.420 --> 00:09:27.910 The shutter is the only way out, and right now, it’s wide open - but Garfield stands 00:09:27.910 --> 00:09:30.100 between the Worker and freedom. 00:09:30.100 --> 00:09:34.070 He turns to dart down the next aisle, between the rows of shelves, keeping his eyes on the 00:09:34.070 --> 00:09:37.210 attacker as he passes underneath the hole in the ceiling. 00:09:37.210 --> 00:09:41.140 The rain is still coming down through it, leaving a puddle on the floor… 00:09:41.140 --> 00:09:43.120 The Worker’s focus is locked on the beast. 00:09:43.120 --> 00:09:46.730 He suddenly feels his foot slipping out from under him, that awful lurch of his heart as 00:09:46.730 --> 00:09:47.769 he falls. 00:09:47.769 --> 00:09:51.940 The puddle, he’s slipped over and come crashing down to the ground, the force of the concrete 00:09:51.940 --> 00:09:55.410 striking his back knocks all the breath from his lungs. 00:09:55.410 --> 00:09:59.730 Everything is spinning in a nauseating mix of pain, disorientation, and terror. 00:09:59.730 --> 00:10:03.980 Above, through the unrepaired ceiling, drops of rain come pouring down on him. 00:10:03.980 --> 00:10:08.040 Then, a low agonized meow from somewhere nearby. 00:10:08.040 --> 00:10:13.480 The monster, Garfield, brings its bat swinging down and sharply connecting with the Worker, 00:10:13.480 --> 00:10:14.480 lying on the ground. 00:10:14.480 --> 00:10:18.860 A new surge of pain wracks his body, right at the hip where the baseball bat just landed 00:10:18.860 --> 00:10:20.380 in an unforgiving blow. 00:10:20.380 --> 00:10:24.250 The Worker can do nothing but scream; in pain and fear. 00:10:24.250 --> 00:10:28.899 A horrible sound, like something wet tearing, fills his ears over his own cries. 00:10:28.899 --> 00:10:33.670 He remembers the sickening feeling of a slimy mass being aggressively pushed into his face. 00:10:33.670 --> 00:10:38.880 It’s disgusting, rancid, but even under all the horror and the repulsive taste, he 00:10:38.880 --> 00:10:41.160 can detect familiar hints. 00:10:41.160 --> 00:10:46.930 , beef, tomato sauce, cheese; all of it moldy and rotten, but still recognizable. 00:10:46.930 --> 00:10:54.191 The monstrous SCP-3166 forces further fistfuls of lasagna down the Worker’s throat until 00:10:54.191 --> 00:10:55.590 the screaming stops. 00:10:55.590 --> 00:11:00.260 He’d always hated Mondays. 00:11:00.260 --> 00:11:03.959 Check out the Dr. Bob Patreon and become a junior researcher today! 00:11:03.959 --> 00:11:09.500 Now go and watch another entry from the files of Dr. Bob, like SCP-674 The Exposition Gun 00:11:09.500 --> 00:11:11.190 Makes Nintendo Real Life.