VIDEO LOG

INTERVIEWED: Jacob Drauss, Head of Internet Outreach, Moosphere, Inc.

INTERVIEWER: Dr. Michael Handler

DATE: June 10, 2023

NOTE: Simurgh.aic intercepted various social media pages and local news articles with advertisements connected to SCP-3739-1 phenomena. An internet forensics team back-traced the IP addresses to a defunct compound in Bellevue, Wisconsin, which a unit of Mobile Task Force Eta-33 ("Don't Have a Cow, Man") members raided. The unit found Jacob Drauss in a state of unconsciousness and under duress, with intravenous pumps injecting white liquid into his bloodstream from emptied milk containers.

[BEGIN LOG]

[Jacob Drauss regains consciousness 90 minutes after the start of the raid. Recording begins as Drauss leaks milk from his left ear canal at an approximate rate of 300 mL/minute.]

Jacob Drauss: Ah fuck, all over the kitchen!

Dr. Michael Handler: This is your house?

Drauss: Yeah, man. I work from home.

Dr. Handler: Noted. [Aside.] Grab a bucket, please.

[A member of Eta-33 places a bucket at Drauss' side, catching the liquid.]

Drauss: We don't have time for this. They're going to be here any minute!

Dr. Handler: Well then, the clock is ticking, Jacob.

Jacob Drauss: What else do you need? You got my ID, my background check, academic certs, tungsten ring…

Dr. Handler: My hands are tied. You'll have to play ball with us.

Drauss: Playing ball means I won't be able to sleep without several gallons of milk pouring out my nostrils and mouth, goddamnit.

Dr. Handler: That's a risk you're willing to take. [He taps on a folder on the desk.] Freedom's right within reach, Drauss. More than I can say for those poor sods you personally trapped with memetics. [He opens the folder, flipping through birth certificates and passports.] We have a nice little home for you, out by the pier with Little Mary and Jonesy — the four of you under a nice little carousel. You're taking out little Mary's favorite treats from a picnic basket; the sun's caressing your shoulders; the sand kernels are wedging between your toes. [He slams the folder shut.] Come on, work for it! Work for your new life.

Drauss: You make sure you protect them after I'm gone, you hear? CEO's gonna assimilate me for revealing his secrets. [He grunts.] There's that udder you found. At the warehouse, right?

Dr. Handler: Any others?

Drauss: Couple. It's emergent aeonian bio-organic paratech. Or in other words — the CEO expects his workers to become his product. Black warehouse, brown doors? With the cat poster, right? Yeah, that was Dave. Great guy, but not smart enough to avoid the CEO's ire. Tried to reveal what was going on anonymously and thought he was protected because he had fuckin' NordVPN on. [He shakes his head.] The last message he sent me said he got "transferred."

Dr. Handler: E-mails we intercepted on the company intranet confirm that message was sent not too long ago, but we couldn't trace it back to any known source. We also couldn't find any technologies capable of doing that to your friend.

Drauss: That's because it's in here. [He taps his temple.] It's like this. Imagine a valve being affixed to a piston. Or an artificial ventricle filled with blood, forming a unique mechanism capable of muscle contraction. We dreamt up our heat exchangers to pasteurize that damned dairy.

[A large disembodied udder manifests in the corner of the room behind Drauss.]

Dr. Handler: The floating udder, Drauss?

Drauss: [He covers his face with his hands, disrupting the flow. He exhales.] Fuck!

Dr. Handler: [Aside.] You didn't bring the MEATS, did you?

Eta-33 Lead: We'll handle it. Just keep talking to the perp.

Dr. Handler: Alright. [Pause.] Jacob, how does someone get into this business?

Drauss: Handler, was it?

[Dr. Handler nods.]

Drauss: Well, Handler, you know how they operate. It's all between-the-lines, through subliminal catchy slogan bullshit, brand deals, seasonal sales, et cetera. Once you get into it you can say bye-bye to whatever goodnight's sleep you had before.

Dr. Handler: Before this, you were a full-time Lyft driver. Can't imagine you were getting much sleep on those long nights out anyway. What's with the change in occupation?

Drauss: I was conscripted. See, it starts slowly. You get fatigued. So, you put a little more cheese in your diet, maybe pour a little more skim milk in your decaf. Espresso won't work. Pills won't work, and some days you collapse from exhaustion. And when the coma hits? [He drops his palms to his lap.] That means you're hired. Your subconscious isn't your private property anymore, understand?

Dr. Handler: So then how did you propagate the advertisements? You were physically incapable of doing any typing from what I could tell.

Drauss: Yeah, those? Written in legally distinct arcana via the amygdala: Drafted in emotion and fear, so they can't get sued by competitors in the Marketplace of Ideas.

Dr. Handler: What else did you witness?

Drauss: After I was employed, it was all about Moosphere Mind-Cubicles™, Moosphere-brand Mind-Staplers™, Mind-Utilities™, Mind-Slaves™, Moosphere Grazing Barns™, and a "district manager" with six leaky tits. I was busy filing tax returns for these primordial bovine entities. These– these things that expect you to drink yourself into oblivion. Oneiroi's Kangaroo Kourt system isn't going to recognize Staff mistreatment or unions if the Moosphere did it on company grounds.

[The floating udder undulates. Sounds of retching emerge.]

Dr. Handler: On company grounds?

Drauss: The Marketplace of Ideas isn't a lie, Doctor Handler. That domain exists, and you're a part of it, whether you like it or not.

Dr. Handler: How do you mean?

Drauss: I need you to listen very carefully when I tell you this. [He sits up straight and sighs.] You should know that there are only two types of people in this world. Those of us who drink Mind-Milk™, and those of us who secrete it.

[END LOG]

NOTE: Mr. Drauss has refused to answer any further questions about Moosphere, his position in the company, or the Marketplace of Ideas. My team and I have taken him into limited protective custody for psychological evaluation and his own personal safety.