Hallowed out ligma

This is a tale made for the annual SCP Foundation Halloween Contest

You may ask yourself, "wait a minute we do not make articles for holidays, we only make them on Holidays. What is this doing here?"

In which we tell you to remove yourself from that Harrison Ford crushing boulder you are under. We have done this every single year. How have you not noticed it? There are only two type of people who are able to see this tale. Personell who have been here since 2015 or Chaos Insurgency hackers. This is assuming they somehow survived the 77 kill agents we put on the pages before this one who would have undoubtedly seen all the Halloween announcements we put up before getting here. You got no excuse, chief.

And you may ask yourself, "well what even are these tales supposed to be?"

Just see what the other combatants have currently uploaded to the system. For example, you can see what Junior Researcher Elogee made here and what Dr. Runder wrote can be found with this helpful hyperlink.

Now assuming that you have read those two, and maybe even read a few more by naving your way around. You'll get the idea of what's going down. If not well…


Happy Pumpkin Day, you filthy animal. Now stop looking
¡op I sɐ pooƃ sɐ lǝǝɟ noʎ ǝdoɥ I ¡pǝʇuɐʍ I ʇɐɥʍ s,ʇɐɥʇ sǝ⅄ ¡ǝɹɐ noʎ pɹɐʇsɐq ʞɔᴉs ǝɥʇ ǝʞᴉl ʇlǝW ¡ʇlǝW

Glad that's taken care of. We don't want too many dumbasses reading this.

Now, while you are reading this, you are currently in a costume. Do not ask why. But if you really want an answer, think of a melting snickers bar. Keep thinking about it. Think only of snickers bars. Snicker bars. Snicker bars. Snicker bars. Snicker bars. Snicker bars. Snicker bars. Snicker bars.

Ok, none of you have a peanut allergy, that's good. Because of your snickers thoughts, your brain has neither melted or calxogied. That would have been real trouble.

Oh yeah, snicker bars, perfect segway into our next question. Well, it's not a question because you don't have a choice or even deserve one for that.

So you may be asking yourself, "well how can I submit to this contest?"

An amazing question, produced by the last two brain cells you have. Because this is where things get a little, how do I put this? Advanced.

All of you should know how to submit. If not, you'd be dead by now. Don't question it. The same way you submit an article. Yes do that. Do exactly that. You have nothing else to do with your time. Of course, you could be go out and actually help us by researching but you're worthless. You need to do this.

Follow the damn rules. Follow the rules and you'll know what to do. Hey! You! Follow the rules. Make that take that corresponds to this. Follow the rules and the examples. No format breaks or anything like that. Follow the rules, examples and the format. Exactly. Follow it. Follow it. Follow it. Follow it. Follow your heart. NO! Follow us. Never follow your heart!

Do not give in to your heart. We will Kano your heart if it you follow it. The human heart is just a weak wannabe brain. It will serve no purpose. Take the heart out, leave the brain in. Here at the Foundation, you do not need a heart. You only need a brain.

Follow your brain. Follow your brain. Follow your brain and your brain only. No, follow us. Stop thinking for yourself. Think for us. The Foundation is one big happy family. You're the NEET son who locks himself in the room.

Join us. Become one with the Foundation. Celebrate the pumpkin with us.

In a flash, General Forelli had awoken. He wasn't in his traditional Foundation garb, but in his Jotaro Kujo costume that he had not touched since he was 17. This was off, as it followed a dream where he and his colleagues were plugged in to the Foundation A.I. system and started vanishing one by one.

This wasn't a dream.

Next to him was the corpse of Dr. Jade dressed up like a plague doctor. Not too far was the lifeless body of Researcher Nicolini in a poorly done Bugs Bunny costume. At the other side of the room was Technician Atilla. God only knows what he was dressed as because his body was covered in a corrosive pink goo, but somehow his nametag was able to escape the mess.

There was Dr. Keyii, dressed as Madoka Kaname. Dead. Dr. Cole wasn't too far off either. His corpse was all dresse up as Yoshi. Sgt. Crocketlaw; an engineer from Team Fortress. Dead. Janitor Pines; straight up unidentifiable. Dead too.

Dr. Fynegan soon emerged from a corner in the room dressed up as Gordon Freeman

awoke first and began to question Forelli in a similar fashion he did with the two visitors from earlier. Forelli already had a reply prepared.

"Spooks. Maximum spooks."

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