: SCP-999 is allowed to freely roam

: SCP-999 is allowed to freely roam the facility should it desire to, but otherwise must stay in its pen. Subject is not allowed out of its pen at night or off facility grounds at any time. Pen is to be kept clean and food replaced twice daily. All personnel are allowed inside SCP-999’s holding area, but only if they are not assigned to other tasks at the time, or if they are on break. Subject is to be played with when bored and spoken to in a calm, non-threatening tone.

Description: SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 54 kg (120 lbs) with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject’s size and shape constantly change, though most of the time its form is the size of a large beanbag chair. Composition of SCP-999 is oil-based, but consists of a substance unknown to modern science. Other than a thin, transparent membrane surrounding the orange mass, subject appears to have no organs to speak of.

Subject’s temperament is best described as playful and dog-like: when approached, SCP-999 will react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, “hugging” them with a pair of pseudopods while nuzzling the person’s face with a third pseudopod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor that differs with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh™.

Simply touching SCP-999’s surface causes an immediate euphoria, which intensifies the longer one is exposed to SCP-999, and lasts long after separation from the creature. Subject’s favorite activity is tickle-wrestling, often by completely enveloping a person from the neck down and tickling them until asked to stop (though it does not always comply with this request).

While the creature will interact with anyone, it seems to have a special interest in those who are unhappy or hurt in any way. Persons suffering from crippling depression, after interacting with SCP-999, have returned completely cured with a very positive outlook on life. The possibility of marketing SCP-999’s slime as an antidepressant has been discussed.

In addition to its playful behavior, SCP-999 seems to love all animals (especially humans), refusing to eat any meat and even risking its own life to save others, even leaping in front of a person to take a bullet fired at them (subject’s intellect is still up for debate: though its behavior is infantile, it seems to understand human speech and most modern technology, including guns). The creature’s diet consists entirely of candy and sweets, with M&M’s™ and Necco™ wafers being its favorites. Its eating methods are similar to those of an amoeba.

Addendum SCP-999-A: The following is a report from an experiment in which SCP-682 is exposed to SCP-999 in the hopes that it will curb the creature’s omnicidal rage.