Item #: SCP-1982
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: The area 2 km around SCP-1982 is to be monitored with video surveillance, and no less than two guards. On 08/23 the area is to be scouted for individuals heading toward SCP-1982's location. Instances of SCP-1982-1 are stopped and turned away from SCP-1982 according to disinformation protocol "First Fumigated".
Description: SCP-1982 is a church in Blairsville, Georgia covered by a fumigation tent. Public records show that the building has been condemned for 19 years, and was previously the location of the "The First Southern Fifth Church of Georgia". Inspection of the interior reveals the area to be empty, save for 10 rows of pews, a large wood-burning furnace, and an altar. SCP-1982 exhibits no anomalous properties for the majority of the year. SCP-1982's notable effects at most times only present themselves with the appearance of SCP-1982-1, if SCP-1982-1 appears on 08/23. If SCP-1982-1 appears on date other than 08/23 no effect can be observed.
Noise and vocalizations can be heard from the inside of SCP-1982 at random intervals throughout the year, though the sound is extremely muffled and only audible when in close proximity. It is the consensus of those presiding over SCP-1982's containment that the dominant sound is a male voice with a heavy lisp, shouting. Multiple other human voices can be heard, usually repeating parts of phrases spoken by the main speaker. All noise emitted from SCP-1982 ceases two seconds before a human individual, animal, recording device, or artificial entity enters, or views the interior. Attempts to record this noise have failed in all instances.
When a specific humanoid1 entity enters the vicinity of SCP-1982 on 08/23, an entity identified as "Celebration 'Big Cheese' Horace" will exit SCP-1982 to greet the individual (SCP-1982-1) and invite them into SCP-1982. SCP-1982-1 have been limited to residents of Georgia and outlying states noted to have significant wealth and fame. Instances of SCP-1982-1 do not return from SCP-1982 once they have entered. On average, one unique entity approaches SCP-1982 every two years.
SCP-1982-1 does not appear to have any compulsion to travel to or enter the vicinity of SCP-1982, and will only enter after being invited in. Appearance of SCP-1982-1 near SCP-1982 is always coincidental. Allowance of SCP-1982-1 to enter SCP-1982 is subject to current testing protocol and Site Director approval.
Interview Log: Observation of 08/23/75. Individual heading toward SCP-1982 is intercepted and held with Foundation agents until interview is complete.
A man's head sticks out of SCP-1982. It looks at Researcher Ortega and frowns.
Singing vocalizations from multiple entities appear to be coming from a pipe in the entities mouth (referred to in this log as SCP-1982-A). The entity itself does not speak, and makes abnormal facial expressions throughout the course of the interview.
SCP-1982-A: You ain't ██████ ██████.
Researcher Ortega: Who is speaking now?
SCP-1982-A: The congregation speaks.
Researcher Ortega: Who is this man I am looking at right now?
SCP-1982-A: That's the cheese himself. Big man, big man. Reverend Archon Celebration Big Cheese Horace. Huff puff fire, fire, fire-?cracker Horace!
Researcher Ortega: May we enter the area?
SCP-1982-A: What's the answer belly dancer? [wailing]
The entity squints its eyes, tilts its head left and right, looking at present researchers, then slowly closes its eyes and shakes its head.
SCP-1982-A: Only round souls. Squares don't fit in this hole.
The entity raises its eyebrows, smiles with its mouth open, and slowly draws its head back into the tent.
Researcher Ortega attempted to enter SCP-1982 with SCP-1982-1 shortly after the interview and found the area to be empty. After exiting, SCP-1982-A reappeared and verbally berated Researcher Ortega, stating that "they could do this all day". After five hours SCP-1982-1 was allowed in SCP-1982 alone.
Excerpts from Georgia 1598 AM: This radio signal is broadcast for two minutes each year on 08/23 in a radius of 2km.
We got talent comin' brothers and sisters. Fresh talent. Two Shoes █████████████ Biggum's - the one from the radio! Sweet tones, and a sweeter smell I'd like to think! Sandy, won't you go on and roll that footage of the dancin' frog now?
We have turned away the mound of filthy meat all strewn together like a Thanksgiving waste bin. Doctor Velvet █████████████ Summer Tones - the spirit itself is in… The. BUILDING. Brothers. I am gonna have to ask you to grace us immediately with your vibrations.
Voice 2: Baby, if we can stay together…
Now you must enter the wizardrom of the divine like, now hear me brothers, like mornin' grass after a cut in the summer. You gotta waft in there, can't be like no two footin' Northern Fifther, bargin' in like he found a dollar. No. Gotta slink in real smooth like a smell, and - understand now brothers - you gotta destroy the body. Break it down. That's what them northers don't understand.
Not all y'all are just about ready to inbreathe. I mean, not all you even can. What? Jeff? Hah! You think you got as much pungenacity as █████████████? Come on now. Sit down, go head sit down son. No one wants you stinkin' up their kitchen.
Hold on now we got a visitor outside! Who COULD it be? [sounds of murmuring, followed by the dominant voice shouting and cursing] This is the talent of '98 friends! Fuckin cluckatoo twoshoes the no money-havin' fuckin' dancin' parrot! Someone get me some Peter Hayden or I am going to blow you all to hell like a divine flatulent. The hell we gonna get out of a fuckin' parrot? A righteous thank you to our friends in the meat hole outside, I declare.
Where the hell is everyone, huh? Roll that frog footage, Sandy!
You enter this disgusting substitute for the star we were brought down here for. Glowing Hands, the lord there Himself ain't smilin' about it but hell, we don't got much to work with. But then again we don't got stankin' smoke like them northern Fivers now do we? You enter now, brother Chatters the Four-Footed Squirrel Himself. Smoke is freedom brother. Cleanse that spirit, and we shall have a short break after that incineration. Y'all can take a quick piss now or what have you. I need a drink.
Gifts are available if y'all want something to bring home. Hell, this old bag of Peter Hayden Himself tobacco is waiting for your pipe… or doobie, for you hip types. Go on and buy it now, we can't keep this show goin' on… what's that Jimmy? Fumes! Hah! I'm tellin' ya! Fumes he says. Can't keep it going on fumes! People, next year and every year till 3███, we will show you that World 390 Broadcast Star is not a dying star, not a fadin' signal. No way. We have not reached our goal donation, but we have reached each other's hearts. Ladies and gentlefriends. I'm getting sentimental and I think I need to light up some of this Richard Smith before I cry. [sniffling]