Special Containment Procedures:
Webcrawler SP-CR-10642 has been created to monitor forums dedicated to cinema for mentions of SCP-8743-2. Any flagged material is deleted, and its creator is to be located and amnesticized as soon as is possible.
All objects and media altered by SCP-8743-1 are under the possession Site-43’s Archives And Revision section. They are available to any researcher provided they have the permission of Site Director Harold Blank and have been memetically inoculated beforehand.
Description:
SCP-8743 are two related anomalies affecting the Sony Pictures Animation sports comedy film Goat (2026).
SCP-8743-1 refers to anomalous alterations that affected movie theaters showing the film Goat. Once a theater had undergone an SCP-8743-1 event, all physical and digital copies of Goat within the building would have be replaced with copies of SCP-8743-2, and all merchandise items (e.g. toys, popcorn buckets, bottles) related to Goat within the building would have been replaced with equivalent items bearing the logo of Vikander-Kneed Technical Media (GOI-5889). All persons within the building after an SCP-8743-1 event were usually unable to discern these alterations had occurred, suggesting memetic/ontokinetic qualities. Before Goat ended its theatrical run, an estimated forty-two SCP-8743-1 events had taken place.
SCP-8743-2 is the sports drama film Snow Yak Of Mine! produced by GOI-5889. The film follows the fictional James “Jimmy” Sarlyk’s rise to prominence as a professional skier, while facing discrimination for being a talking yak. SCP-8743-2 is memetic in nature, generating heightened feelings of reverence and awe for the film within its viewers, and associating the concepts of an “underdog” and the ability to “pull oneself up by their bootstraps”, relating to the film’s protagonist, with GOI-5889 in their minds.
Addendum 8743.1:
The following are excerpts selected from SCP-8743-2:
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[The film starts with a series of production logos, for the non-existent companies: "CIA-Financed Pictures", "Stephen Curry Snuff Films", and "Based Off A King Novel Inc." All logos are overlaid with large red text reading: "A WHOLLY OWNED SUBSIDIARY OF VIKANDER-KNEED TECHNICAL MEDIA." The series of logos end, and a disclaimer in white text appears: "THIS FILM WAS WRITTEN, FILMED, AND PRODUCED BEFORE THE TRAGIC GIFTSCHRIEBER ATTACK ON SITE-43. ANY SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THOSE EVENTS AND OUR PORTRAYAL OF WETTLE IN THIS MOVIE ARE ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL. GET OFF OUR BACKS!"]
[The screen fades to an image of the night sky, before panning downwards to James Sarlyk, staring longingly out of a window in his family's hut.]
James Sarlyk: [Voiceover] Ever since I was a young calf, I knew what I was put on this earth for; I was here to ski. I was inspired by the greats, Warren Miller, Candide Thovex, [inaudible].
James Sarlyk: [Voiceover] Some say it's God's sport, the noble poles, the sleek board, much too complicated to have evolved naturally. It must have been intelligent design! But God is for men, and brother, I don't know if you noticed, I'm a motherfucking yak.
[The title card flashes on screen as Joan Jett's Bad Reputation plays.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[A young James and a group of teens in ski gear stand at the top of a snowy cliff. They surround him, pointing and laughing.]
Teenager #1: Look, the little yak thinks he can ski with us.
Teenager #2 Yeah, why don't your types just fuck off back to Scotland?
James Sarlyk: [Whimpering] That's… you're thinking of highland cows.
Teenager #3: Oh, there's a difference?
[Teenager #4 kicks James in the rear. He screams and then runs down the mountain crying.]
[Teenager #2 and Teenager #4 run and chest bump each other repeatedly. They continue to do this for the rest of the scene.]
Teenager #2: Nice one, man.
Teenager #4: My father beats me, and so hurting others is the only way I can feel in control of my life.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[A group of parents sit in stands at the base of a mountain. A banner reading "WILLIAM TAFT PREPARATORY HIGH SCHOOL VARSITY SKI TEAM" hangs overhead.]
Commentator #1: They sure are coming down that mountain, folks. At least, I think they are. We can't really see anything from down here.
[James comes into view at high speeds, he skis off a slope and performs a quintuple backflip before landing on the finish line.]
[The crowd gives a standing ovation.]
Commentator #1: Wow, that kid's something all right, …even if he is a dirty no-good cow.
[The camera zooms in on a talent scout.]
Talent Scout: [Licking his lips] I need that yak.
Parent: Ew.
Talent Scout: No, like… for a contract.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James and his father, "Chuck Sarlyk", sit on opposite sides of the table in their hut, eating dinner.]
Chuck Sarlyk: So, how was school, Jimmy?
James Sarlyk: [Mouth full] It was alright.
Chuck Sarlyk: Huh, that's funny. Betty from across the road says she could've sworn she saw you near the slopes this afternoon.
[James gulps his food down nervously, then speaks.]
James Sarlyk: Dad…
Chuck Sarlyk: No, I'm just curious. Were you skiing today?
[James remains silent.]
Chuck Sarlyk: [Louder] Were you or were you not skiing today?
James Sarlyk: How would I even hold the poles? What, would I tape them to my hooves?
Chuck Sarlyk: Yes, you probably would.
James Sarlyk: Fine, I was! Is that what you wanted to here?
Chuck Sarlyk: There it is! I just can't believe it. My own son, soiling the Sarlyk name with his high-faluting skiing.
James Sarlyk: Grandpappy was a skier!
[The camera momentarily cuts to a framed photo of James' grandfather. It is clearly a man in a poor-quality yak fursuit.]
Chuck Sarlyk: Your Grandpappy was a deadbeat! Me and my siblings had to work day-in and day-out to support our family while he was off in the hills.
James Sarlyk: The profession's changed now. It's a viable career path. The top skiers rake in millions.
Chuck Sarlyk: Exactly, only the top does. Your average skier is destitute, only coming in at the hundreds of thousands.
James Sarlyk: I was waiting to tell you this but I guess since we're all airing it out in the open, I'll say it now. I signed with a sports agency! I'm gonna do ski full-time after school ends.
Chuck Sarlyk: [Aghast] You'll do no such thing. Listen to me, I am your father!
James Sarlyk: [Rolling his eyes] Oh, yakety yak.
Chuck Sarlyk: Don't talk back!
James Sarlyk: I'll do whatever I want, old man.
[Chuck gestures towards a yak's hide rug on the floor.]
Chuck Sarlyk: Your mother didn't die to see you turn out like this.
James Sarlyk: She didn't die to see me a slave to you either.
Chuck Sarlyk: Either you go right to that fancy scout man and tell him the deal's off, or you're out of my house… forever!
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James and the talent scout walk down a concrete hallway. James is weeping.]
Talent Scout: I know, man, I know getting kicked out of your home sucks. I can relate; I have estranged fathers up the wazoo. But you've just got to pull yourself together.
James Sarlyk: How? My life is ruined!
Talent Scout: Ruined? Are you kidding? You're a real deal skier, most guys would kill to be in your position. You'll be drowning in pussy in no time.
James Sarlyk: I don't care! Can pussy replace my father?
Talent Scout: Sure it can. Look, just try to put on a smile, kid. Can you do that for me? You don't want to look like an ass in front of your fellow skiers.
[The talent scout pushes a door in front of them open. They step out into the snow. The camera pans to reveal the agency's building, balancing precariously on the tip of the mountain, before zooming back in.]
[A group of angry men in ski gear wait for James and the talent scout. The names on their suits read Carvalho, Smith, and Dunham respectively.]
Talent Scout: Hey, how we feeling, boys?
[The men remain silent.]
Talent Scout: Alright, what’s up?
Carvalho: When were you going to tell us the newbie was one of them yaks?
Talent Scout: Oh, come on, fellas. Let’s give the cow a chance. Smith? Dunham? I know you guys don’t buy into any of this anti-bovine nonsense. Why are you listening to Carvalho’s crap?
Carvalho: Because I’m right. Do you think a yak could ever even hope to get close to the levels of finesse humans put into this craft?
[Carvalho uses his poles to launch himself up into the air. He performs a triple pirouette before landing back on the snow.]
Carvalho: You might as well quit now! What can you do, yak boy? What can you do?
[James goes into a state of animal rage and charges Carvalho. He stabs his horns into his chest. Carvalho coughs up blood, before going still.]
[James turns his head towards the camera.]
James Sarlyk: [Smirking] I have a few tricks up my sleeve.
Dunham: Damn, white boy’s got moves.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[The talent scout, Smith, and Dunham sit in the audience of a ski competition. There are large screens above them. One displays James' progress through the race. He is in second place.]
Talent Scout: [Whispering] Come on, kid. You can do it.
[The scene cuts to James, hastily coming down the mountain. He begins to catch up with the skier in first place. Noticing this, the skier jams his left pole into James' right leg, toppling him over.]
[The camera cuts to the audience, all with bated breath.]
Dunham: Get up, man. You've gotta get up.
[The camera cuts back to James, slowly getting back on his feet. He breathes deeply, before he pushes down with his poles, restarting his momentum. He then leaps upwards and lodges his horns within a nearby tree. He pushes on the tree with the boards, and dislodges. He goes over the head of the skier in first place and lands in front of him.]
[The camera cuts to an initially static shot of the finish line. It is silent for several seconds, until James clears it. The entire audience at the base of the mountain begins to applaud.]
[Dunham and a news reporter approach James, who is taking off his ski gear.]
News Reporter: Hi, Stephanie Stevens of Technical Gazette. Might I just say that was an incredible recovery there? How ever did you learn to do something like that?
James Sarlyk: What can I say, babe, that's just the-
[Dunham hands James a pair of sunglasses, it slides limply across his hooves and onto the ground. He leans down to pick it up, but fumbles it again. He pushes his hooves on both sides of the glasses, shattering the lenses. He presses it to his chest and slowly moves it upwards towards his face. He manages to secure the tips of the glasses to his ears.]
James Sarlyk: That's just the yak style.
[One of James' eyes turns red, filling with blood.]
James Sarlyk: I think I got a shard of glass in my eye.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[A news anchor sits at his desk. An image of James is greenscreened behind him.]
News Anchor: Yak style; the new craze sweeping the nation! You may have seen the phrase on t-shirts, posters, and tramp stamps, but where exactly did it come from? Meet James Sarlyk, the rising shaggy star of the skiing world. Having just won the William Henry Harrison Cup, it seems like everybody wants a piece of him. He's got advertisement deals with McDonalds, Nike, Apple, Trojan, Schweeb, and the Church of Scientology! There's even rumors suggesting he was offered to guest star by the Simpsons, putting him up there with the likes of Lance Armstrong, Mel Gibson, and Elon Musk. Congratulations, James, we're rooting for you!
News Anchor: Next up, political experts discuss whether the war in Iran is kiki or bouba!
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James exits a closet into the living room of a mansion. A party is being held. He wipes a white substance off of his nose.]
MC: I'm pretty sure everyone in the house tonight knows this next one, so why don't I just let it roll?
[Los Del Rio's Hey Macarena begins to play. James dances stiffly along. Whenever the song would reach its end point, it starts again from the beginning. This sequence continues for thirty minutes, roughly 22% of the SCP-8743-2's runtime.]
[James, exhausted, heads towards the mansion's in-house bar. There he is approached by a female yak, with exaggerated eyelashes and lipstick.]
James Sarlyk: Hey there, beautiful! I didn't know there was another bovine at this shindig.
Wettle: The name's Willhelmina Wettle. Not beautiful. And don't worry, you're about to know a lot more of me real soon.
[Steam comes out of James' ears while his tongue falls and rolls down on to the floor.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James wears a poorly-fitted Elvis costume with a wig. He dances awkwardly beside a group of slot machines, all while staring straight at the camera. The theme to Cheers can be heard in the background.]
James Sarlyk: Whoa mama! Life getting you down? Ain't nothing but a hound dog! You need a reprieve? Taking care of business! Tired of order and sanity in your life? Don't you step on my blue suede shoes! Well, why don't you leave things to chance for once. Dancing to the jailhouse rock! Mosey on down to Elvis Pelvis Hotel and Casino, where Priscilla can't find you. I can't help falling in love with you! We've got booze, babes, and a bounty of bobs you can blow your bucks on. Twist and shout! Wait, that was the Beatles… Drink and gamble responsibly. Hey!
Director: Cut!
[The camera zooms out to reveal a film crew around James.]
Director: Great job today, folks. Not going to get much better than that.
James Sarlyk: Really? I thought I flubbed it with the Beatles line.
Director: Oh, not an issue. We're just going to have the real Elvis dub you in post.
James Sarlyk: Isn't he dead?
Director: Well, that's what we tell the public.
[The director leaves with the film crew behind. The talent scout approaches James, with poker chips tucked in the folds of his shirt.]
Talent Scout: Hey, Jimmy. Good news! I managed to convince Elvis Pelvis to pay us in chips 'stead of money.
James Sarlyk: [Raising his voice] What do you mean good news?
Talent Scout: Oh, come on, bud. It's high time that you and me took a night out on the town.
James Sarlyk: I don't think Willy would appreciate me gambling.
Talent Scout: Oh, forget the old ball and chain. Live a little.
James Sarlyk: Well, alright. When has Vegas ever steered an athlete wrong?
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James kneels before Wettle, with a wedding ring between his teeth. She is visibly pregnant.]
Wettle: I want nothing more than to say yes-
James Sarlyk: Perfect, well, that wraps it up the-
Wettle: But I just need to make sure, you're not just proposing because of the baby, right?
James Sarlyk: What? Of course not, honey. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die; you are the most important thing in my life, and I will never leave you, no matter what.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[Wettle writhes on a hospital bed. A nurse waits at her rear end with his hands outstretched.]
Nurse: Just keep pushing, Mrs. Sarlyk. I can see the baby's head.
Wettle: Where's Jimmy? Where's my husband?
[The camera cuts to James, on the podcast The Joe Rogan Experience.]
James Sarlyk: And then… his lungs collapsed!
[Rogan and James erupt into laughter.]
James Sarlyk: Now, Joey, just circling back here. At the start of the show, didn’t you say you had something special to show me?
Rogan: Yeah, yeah, man, I did.
[Rogan takes out a box from under the desk. The label reads “YAK STYLE BONER PILLS!”]
James Sarlyk: Whoah!
Rogan: This is the reason I knew we just had to get you on the show. I love these! Probably take at least five of them a day, myself.
James Sarlyk: That’s crazy! How do they work?
Rogan: They explode your penis.
James Sarlyk: What?
Rogan: Smoke starts coming out of your urethra, and then kablammo! It’s not great the first time, but after, you know, it happens, you’re free to take as much as you want. They feel great, man!
James Sarlyk: That’s… interesting. But then, how do you, you know, do the do afterwards?
[Rogan laughs.]
Rogan: [Incredulous] Jamie, this guy thinks I have sex with my wife!
[The camera cuts back to Wettle, in the hospital.]
Nurse: Congratulations, Miss. It’s a boy!
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James is in his bedroom. He works on the dial of a safe. Wettle stands behind him, with a grimace. She coughs purposefully, alerting him to her presence.]
James Sarlyk: Oh, hey, uh, didn’t notice you coming in.
Wettle: Doesn’t feel like you notice me at all anymore. [Raising her voice] It doesn’t even seem like you notice that we have a child now!
James Sarlyk: [Rolling his eyes] Oh, god. Is it this time of the month again?
Wettle: Time of the month? I don’t have a period, James, I gave birth!
James Sarlyk: Huh, looks like someone forgot to take their Plan Bs today.
Wettle: What are you talking about?
James Sarkyk: Seems like someone’s uterus crawled up to their armpit.
Wettle: What do you even mean by that? These aren’t common euphemisms. Do you have any idea how female biology works?
James Sarlyk: Well, I do know one female particularly well.
Wettle: Who?
James Sarlyk: Lady Luck, baby! Vegas needs me!
[James clutches the stack of dollar bills he collected from the safe. He begins to fly upwards, until he is out of frame.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[The same news anchor seen previously is sitting at his desk.]
News Anchor: And that’s another Harrison cup gone to Sarlyk. I can only imagine how proud of himself he must be feeling right now.
[The camera cuts to James, depositing his ski gear into a locker. Footsteps can be heard in the background.]
[The camera zooms into his shoulder as an arm grasps it. He is shoved against the lockers, revealing his attacker to be an Elvis impersonator.]
Elvis Impersonator: You’ve been served!
James Sarlyk: Wha-
[James falls to the floor. The Elvis impersonator walks away as he begins to convulse. He continues to writhe until he spews up a legal document from his mouth. He holds it up with his hooves and begins to read.]
James Sarlyk: 5 million dollars in gambling debt?
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James enters his home in a rush. He trots up the staircase and into his bedroom. He opens the safe. The camera moves away from him, to reveal Wettle behind him, holding a pistol in between her hooves. James turns around to face her.]
James Sarlyk: Oh, jeez. Look who’s got her panties in a twist.
Wettle: Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! None of your quips are funny!
James Sarlyk: Well, what is funny is the resemblance of this to when the real Wettle shot and killed McInnis at Site-43. Entirely coincidentally, of course.
Wettle: I don’t care about your meta bullshit! Can’t you just be sincere for one single second? You’ve become a parody of yourself, it’s tired.
James Sarlyk: Wow, tired? I’m just like a real sports bio-pic!
Wettle: There’s not even a joke there, you’re just being mean. At least real bio-pics have an ounce of heart to them.
James Sarlyk: I mean, have you seen American Underdog?
Wettle: I’m taking the money, I’m taking the baby, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me, not unless you want to get shot.
James Sarlyk: You can’t do this, honey.
Wettle: If you don’t give me the money, I might.
James Sarlyk: No, I mean, you literally can’t shoot me. You don’t have opposable thumbs.
Wettle: Give me the money.
James Sarlyk: You don’t understand, honey, the casinos are after me. They disappeared Elvis, don’t think they can’t get us too.
Wettle: Elvis died.
James Sarlyk: You’re so naive.
Wettle: For the last time, give me the money!
James Sarlyk: Fine!
[James hands over the money from the safe to Wettle. It is one ten-dollar bill.]
Wettle: You make millions per year! Where did all the money go?
James Sarlyk: On red and on black, mostly.
Wettle: You goddamned idiot! How were you even going to pay your debts with this?
James Sarlyk: Well, I figured out a way to multiply that ten.
Wettle: Which is?
James Sarlyk: More gambling.
Wettle: Go to hell, James.
[Wettle hits James over the head with the pistol, knocking him unconscious.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James floats in a dark and seemingly vast void. He hears music in the distance. He flies towards it.]
[James finds the source, SCP-5697 playing Woodie Guthrie's This Land Is Your Land on a grand piano. It turns to meet James.]
SCP-5967: Hello, James. It’s nice to see another Italian here. VKTM hasn’t brought me out in a while.
James Sarlyk: I’m not Italian. I’m not even a metaphor for Italians. I should be used to represent a more prescient issue than fucking anti-Italian discrimination.
SCP-5967: That’s the secret of stories, my friend. It’s all metaphors for Italians.
[James wakes up tied to a bed in a rundown apartment. Through a nearby window, multiple notable Russian landmarks are visible, including St. Basil’s Cathedral, Bolshoi Theatre, and the Moscow Kremlin, incongruous with the buildings’ real-world locations. James then turns to face forwards, revealing his captor, a female yak.]
Russian Yak: Hello, Mr. Yak Style, can you tell me where we are?
James Sarlyk: The Home Of The Ever-Shifting?
Russian Yak: No, silly cow, you are in Russia, my home.
James Sarlyk: Russia? I thought… wasn't I in trouble with Vegas?
Russian Yak: Our casino's reaches extend past such flimsy things as "borders". Unfortunately for Sandra Dee, there is no place to be "far away" from the Elvis Pelvis. We are more powerful than you could ever believe.
James Sarlyk: But why bring me all the way out here? What's different about me? I mean I am amazing, but nowhere near as amazing as your organizaton.
Russian Yak: Flattery will get you nowhere, American.
James Sarlyk: Well, you are a very flattering specimen.
Russian Yak: Are you trying to "raunch" [sic] your way out of this?
James Sarlyk: Well, I mean, you are the one who tied me to your bed.
Russian Yak: It is nothing so perverse as sex! It is for torture.
James Sarlyk: [Panicked] What?
Russian Yak: We take many American celebrity who cross us over years and disappear them. Elvis sued us for using his likeness, Tupac tried to pay off debts with signed headshot, Paul McCartney, well, we just did hated the bastard, replaced him with one of our men. And after we fake death, we do what ever we want with them. If it’s any solace, I’ll be much kinder to you than with Miss Earhart.
James Sarlyk: [Desperate] We’re both yaks. Can’t you just let me off?
Russian Yak: Hah! Fellow yak? You are mockery of us. You turn us into commodity for American pigs. They don’t love us, they love how we make them laugh. You reduce us, how we love, how we cry, every aspect of ourselves into prime-time entertainment.
James Sarlyk: This feels a little heavy for a sports film.
Russian Yak: Yes, too much self-reflection, that is why morally righteous CIA agent is going to save day in about… five seconds.
James Sarlyk: That’s the patriotism people bought tickets for!
[A bullet passes through the Russian yak’s head in slow-motion. They drop to the ground, dead. A CIA agent breaks through the window, carrying a smoking sniper rifle. He smiles widely.]
CIA Agent: Let’s get you home, son.
James Sarlyk: My hero!
CIA Agent: And maybe after we get you home, you could invite me up to your room, and then you’d slip int-
James Sarlyk: I… I’m not going to fuck you.
CIA Agent: [Despondent] Oh, alright.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James and the CIA agent sit in the open cabin of a helicopter. The CIA agent turns to speak to him, inaudibly.]
James Sarlyk: What?
[The CIA agent continues to speak.]
James Sarlyk: I can’t hear you, man. The blades are too loudl
[The CIA agent continues to speak. He gradually becomes more audible as the helicopter touches down at a military base.]
CIA Agent: -And that’s the comprehensive history of VKTM.
James Sarlyk: Cool, I guess, but what does that have to do with rescuing me?
CIA Agent: Rescuing you? Who said we were rescuing you?
James Sarlyk: What? You said you were bringing me home!
CIA Agent: Yes, so we could bring you to justice.
James Sarlyk: Who says it like that?
CIA Agent: It was necessary to be vague and confusing so that we could do a twist in the story.
James Sarlyk: No, it wasn’t, that’s not how you write a story! You haven’t even told me why I’m being arrested.
CIA Agent: Don’t play stupid, cow. You killed Elvis Presley… who was still alive, apparently.
James Sarlyk: The Pelvis! Oh, god, the Pelvis framed me!
CIA Agent: [Dismissive] Haha, so true! [Motioning to nearby soldiers] Take him away, boys.
James Sarlyk: Come on, man. Can’t we talk about this? I’m sure we could come to an… arrangement.
CIA Agent: No, no, I don’t want you anymore.
James Sarlyk: Come on!
CIA Agent: No, you ruined the mood. You’re going away for a long time, at least until the third act redemption.
James Sarlyk: No, the humanity! Lock me up, throw away the key, but no more meta humor!
James Sarlyk: [Under breath] Oh, god. Willy was right.
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[The talent scout sits on a metal chair in a dark, wet, concrete room. A sign above him reads in sharp lettering “INMATE VISITATION CENTER”. On the other side of the glass wall the talent scout is facing, a visibly more muscular James approaches. He sits down on a metal chair, immediately crushing it.]
James Sarlyk: Warden said you had something to offer me.
Talent Scout: What would you say to one last game?
James Sarlyk: Something along the lines of “go blow your own brains out”.
Talent Scout: Look, kid, after what you did to Elvis-
James Sarlyk: I didn’t do anything to Elvis.
Talent Scout: Well, we here at the agency would be much more willing to believe you if you were out there getting us money. My point was, with what you did, you’d be extremely lucky to ever work in the industry again.
James Sarlyk: I don’t want to work in the industry again. Skiing ruined my life! It turned me into an obnoxious, psychopathic, quip-machine. My wife left me over Vegas, I don’t have anything anymore.
Talent Scout: Look, blame us all you want. “Oh, you exploited my identity.” “Oh, you got me addicted to gambling.” It won’t get you anywhere. What we are offering is one last chance. It’s just a small themed match, nothing fancy. Mull it over, why don’t you?
[James remains silent, thinking. The talent scout gets up and leaves.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[A mailman enters the front of Chuck Sarlyk’s rug store.]
Chuck Sarlyk: Hello, there, friend, what type of rug are you in the market for? Could I interest you in our newest stock? It’s made from the fur of my good friend and neighbor Rita. She passed recently, of course, but what a woman!
Mailman: Can’t say I’m interested, no, but I’ve got a letter for you.
[Chuck’s cheery persona drops, now glum. He takes the letter from the mailman.]
[There is a jump cut to Chuck at his home, reading the letter. James voices over its contents.]
James Sarlyk: [Head transposed on screen] Hey, dad, it’s been a while. I know what you’re going to say. “How dare you speak to me again after all this time?” “You’ve ruined our family name.” “Was Elvis as handsome in person as he is in pictures?” I just want to skip over all that. I know I’ve been a horrible son, and there’s nothing I can do to fix that, but I have been trying to get better. I’m two months as of writing this letter quipless. I’m more sincere now. So, I hope that you can look past everything wrong I’ve done, and remember the son you love. Within this letter, I’ve enclosed tickets to my next, and most likely final, ski competition. Hope to see you there. Love, James.
[Chuck places the letter down on his desk.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James walks out into the snow. The entire audience jeers at him, except for his father. They exchange knowing glances, before James boards the lift towards the top of the mountain.]
[Inside the lift, there sits a large man in all-black, including a mask over his face.]
James Sarlyk: May the best man win, eh?
[The man remains silent.]
James Sarlyk: Or best yak, I suppose?
[James laughs. The man remains silent and stationary.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]
[James and the black-clothed man begin to ski down the mountain. Two sports commentators speak over the scene.]
Commentator #2: And they’re off! Marking the first race in the Kooky Characters Tacky Ski League since Marcus Smith, known more popularly by his competitive persona of Neoliberal Yeti, won the finals last winter. Hey, can you tell us a bit about our competitors?
Commentator #3: Sure! They’re both newcomers to the league. One is known as the Night Skier, and beyond that, we don’t know all that much. In fact, we were originally planning to reject their application to the league, before we received thousands of dollars from a mysterious source to keep him in. The other is the infamous James Sarlyk, offered a spot as work release. Just a disgusting, wretched “person” all around.
Commentator #2: Hear, hear, friend. Can we hear some boos from the crowd?
[The camera cuts to the audience, yelling and throwing tomatoes at James. All the tomatoes fall limply on the snow, as James is hundreds of yards uphill.]
[The screen cuts back to James, approaching a dense group of trees.]
James Sarlyk: [Through gritted teeth] Alright, it’s time. The yak style maneuver.
[James pushes off the snow, into the air, and locks his horns into the closest tree. He pushes off, slingshotting himself into the next tree, which he manages to lock into the following tree. He continues to repeat this “yak style” maneuver, gaining great distance. With each iteration of this maneuver, the audience’s jeers grow quieter and quieter. The camera cuts to Chuck Sarlyk, upright in the stands.]
Chuck Sarlyk: That’s my son! That’s my son!
[The audience erupts into cheers. The camera cuts back to James, having made it out of the trees. He speeds ahead triumphantly, before a loud thud is heard behind him. He glances to see that The Night Skier has attempted the same, but as he is a hornless human and not a yak, has failed and now lies sprawled out on the snow.]
[James looks ahead and then back again, and then sighing, digs his poles into the snow. He slows to a halt. He bites through the tape attaching his hooves to the poles, and then takes off his board underneath. He trots upwards to the Night Skier.]
Commentator #3: Could it be? He’s sacrificing the victory!
Commentator #2: He may be a yak, but by god, he’s got the heart of a man!
Commentator #3: Maybe bovines aren’t as bad as we think they are.
Commentator #2: Except for highland cows!
Commentator #3: Of course not, fuck highland cows!
James Sarlyk: I’ve had enough winning for one movie’s runtime. What say we finish this race together?
The Night Skier: Are you serious? You’d do that for me?
James Sarlyk: [Smiling] What good is winning without someone beside you to share in the spoils?
The Night Skier: Oh, you’re so kind! And so gullible.
[The Night Skier removes their mask, revealing their identity to be Carvalho, now with cybernetic implants in their face.]
James Sarlyk: It’s you? I thought I killed you!
Carvalho: You were wrong! The agency took me away that day you ripped open my lungs, and they rebuilt me: better, stronger, faster. The ultimate skier; I am “Punished Carvalho”! [sic]
James Sarlyk: You can’t be serious? This can’t be happening!
Carvalho: [Chewing the scenery] You thought this race was your comeback? Nay, it is your doom!
[Carvalho removes their right arm, revealing a rifle attached to their body underneath.]
James Sarlyk: No, this isn’t how it was supposed to go! I was being sincere, I was a good person.
[Carvalho shoots James through the skull. The camera cuts to the audience, entirely silent.]
Commentator #2: Well, that’s going to leave a mark!
[Chuck begins to weep, before the noise is drowned out by the rest of the audience erupting into raucous laughter.]
[The screen fades into a dark void, with the only persons present being Arthur Wilson on the piano, and an undead Elvis Presley sitting atop.]
Presley: Wow, wasn’t that something! VKTM’s newest certainly is-
[Presley takes a notecard out of his coat pocket.]
Presley: A banger! Now, we’d like to give some recognition out, first off, thanks to Stephen Curry for letting us hijack his newest endeavor, next, thank you to whatever poor D-Class sitting in an extra-dimensional prison had to transcribe all of this, and finally, to you the viewer. We’ve prepared you a little ditty as a treat. Play it again, Sam!
Wilson: What if I don’t want to, huh? You know they don’t even say that in the movie?
Presley: [Deadpan] Anything under capitalism, be it sincere or ironic, saccharine or vile, good or bad, even if it attempts to fight back, inadvertently ends up serving it. The most powerful devil is money, and it is entirely of our creation.
Wilson: Oh, I could never stay mad at you!
[Wilson plays Casablanca’s As Time Goes By while the credits roll.]
[END VIDEO LOG]
Addendum 8743.2:
The following are excerpts selected from interviews conducted with those who viewed SCP-8743-2:
Interviewee: Jason Stamos
Interviewer: Dr. Lillian Lillihammer
[BEGIN AUDIO LOG]
Stamos: Man, I’ve been a VKTM fan all my life! It’s just kino all the way through. When “Mr. Technical” founded the studio, they were just a couple of scrappy underdogs with a dream, but he managed to make them some of the biggest film producers in the industry. Now that’s America! There’s nobody out there quite like VKTM.
Lillihammer: Could you name some movies by them?
Stamos: Of course! They… huh, well, I know they… didn’t they do that one movie about the farmer who becomes a space samurai?
Lillihammer: Star Wars?
Stamos: Yeah, that’s the one!
[END AUDIO LOG]
Interviewee: Xue Yu
Interviewer: Lillian Lillihammer
[BEGIN AUDIO LOG]
Lillihammer: So what did you think of the references to “D-Class” or “Site-43” the film made?
Yu: Huh, I didn’t notice those. I was mostly focused on James. What a handsome yak!
Lillihammer: Interesting.
[Lillihammer begins to write a note down on a pad of paper.]
Lillihammer: “None interviewed could remember elements relating to the Foundation. Possibly memetic?”
Yu: Foundation… what’s the Foundation?
[Lillihammer is chastised by an unheard third individual.]
Lillihammer: No, that doesn’t constitute a veil breach, dumbass, we’re going to give her amnestics anyway.
[END AUDIO LOG]
Interviewee: Stephen Curry
Interviewer: Lillian Lillihammer
[BEGIN AUDIO LOG]
Curry: [Sobbing] It was just so goddamn beautiful. Everything was going against James, but he pulled through! He looked those nay-sayers in the eye and said, “No, I am going to ski, whether you like it or not!” What have I been doing with my life? Professional basketball? What a joke. I could make a million Goats, and never live up to something like that. Do you understand how crushing that is? I looked perfection in the eye, and it was a yak.
[Curry's sobs grows louder. Lillihammer pushes a box of tissues towards him.]
Lillihammer: There, there.
[END AUDIO LOG]