Dr. Weinberg: Hello again, SCP-3012? Are you comfortable?

SCP-3012: I actually don't have any real bodily feelings at all. It's pretty cool. The only thing I feel is, you know, when I make the words on the walls.

Dr. Weinberg: What does that feel like?

SCP-3012: Feels like if string could come out of your fingers. If you had orifices there. It feels natural, like it's ready. I mean, there's nothing happening. It's obviously my fucking, you know, phantom body feelings. A confused soul stuck in a fucked up brought back body trying to remember touches. It's because of the nature of the way they took my soul, you know. Just yanked it. Wild shit, right? God, I could talk all day about this shit.

Dr. Weinberg: We have.

SCP-3012: You're okay for a janitor, you know? I know what you're doing. I mean we both know what you're doing here. But it's cool to talk. You're pretty smart. And you study this shit, don't you? I always used to infodump a little too much. About this shit. Plugged up the chat. After I did it, I'd always feel so anxious. They never said anything.

Dr. Weinberg: You felt like an outsider?

SCP-3012: It's more, like, just added to my mounting list of character flaws. Always thought it was gonna be the straw and the camel.

Dr. Weinberg: You're not that bad.

SCP-3012: Fuck you, dorko. But yeah, I am. I always had a natural inclination toward meanness. I don't know why Blunt kept me. I think he felt bad for me. I thought he always regretted it. When he let me into the group. I just, you know, I'm aggressive. I don't know. The chat was a gentle place. A lot of people there were hurting and looking for laughs. I've always been in the fucking, uh, you know. Insult comedy puppet dog? That shit is hysterical. Wasn't exactly the best fit for the room sometimes.

They made fun of each other. But I was always meaner. More cutting. I got banned a few times, you know. Like more than anyone else. You know how fucked up you gotta be to get banned from the Gamers Against Weed chat? I remember how disappointed Bones would always be. That hurt the most.

I remember, shit, I don't know why I always tell you this shit. I remember this one time I said something horrible to JJ. I got banned. I felt like such a piece of shit. I mean, I never considered it. I was trying to be playful, you know. Like a playful joke. Jesus, that was me. And they always let me come back. I think, it was because they knew I was stupid. I was alone. Shit, when I first joined, I had to have been seventeen.

I just thought that shit was acceptable. I thought a slur wasn't bad if you said it without trying to be hateful. But it's always hateful, isn't it? I was always good at hate. Even when I didn't know it. I don't know. I just don't know how they dealt with me. I thought, you know, if you were offended, you were policing humor. But they, uh, they always let me back. They always told me what I did wrong. And, uh, I just can't believe they're still doing the Misters.

Dr. Weinberg: What did you say?

SCP-3012: I said, “if JJ's so lucky, why was he born a faggot?” I just, I don't know. It's one of those things you think of all the time when you close your eyes. Which, I don't need to do, so this is like metaphorical. I remember how JJ just logged off. And he's untouchable. JJ has never been uncomfortable in his life, and I made him log off.

JJ wanted me back the next day. Bones and Blunt wouldn't have it. They said I needed some thinking time. It was good for me. I hated them for it at the time. But they were right. Fucking robots and stoners, right?

Dr. Weinberg: Why not Mr. Deadly Sins, if you really consider yourself so bad?

SCP-3012: I wanted to be able to use my meanness to be good. I wanted to save people, and I wanted to be alone, so I couldn't hurt anyone anymore. Threats, gore, being creepy, I guess it comes natural to me. Jesus. I'm still fucked up they liked me, in the end. They kept up my joke.

Dr. Weinberg: Couldn't they just think it was funny?

SCP-3012: I don't know if they even think I'm funny, honest. Maybe this is just how they remember me. How they keep me alive. They let me go after I got all Mister'd, like I asked. I wanted to go out and do it. I figured, you know, they just, you know, felt bad. They were just doing my last wishes. But keeping it up? It's weird. It makes me feel like I did matter. I wish I didn't leave so soon. But it was better that way. The whole point of this is to be, you know, full-on Mr. Ominous. Mr. Ominous can't hang out in his bud Blunt's room and smoke weed and get in screaming matches with his roommate. Mr. Ominous, you know, fucking, writes the magic words on the wall and makes teens shit themselves.

Dr. Weinberg: It sounds almost noble. But is scaring them really the best way to go about this?

SCP-3012: I don't really know anything else.