A dream it was. It was finished, the red carpet was laid, and then the siren sounded in the distance.
Steve Marlin took two sips of his coffee and motioned for Jack to sit in one of his two rows. They watched it cheerfully. The Stars and Stripes sang, and the Eels bounced on a basketball court minutes before.
"Have you checked your fineprint regarding the letter carrier?" Jack wondered. Was Jack intending to bet? A couple of rolls of his gambling coin had been emblazoned with partly-transferring branding.
Steve looked through the table as Jack continued, his face tense. "Oh, Christ, I forgot to insert a very rare feature. What's gotten into him?"
"Good question." Jack grinned, dropping to his knees. "Any changes from the last one, Steve?"
"Well, the correct spelling of Avon's name is 'Aston'." Roger Clark responded, before pushing many other exhibits just aside, placing himself back in his seat. "The wrong spelling is, 'Aston'."
"Well, he's taken to calling me Jake." Steve laughed, shaking his head.
Jack, meanwhile, gulped as Roger took two sips of his coffee. "So, what the hell is going on here, Jack?"
Roger narrowed his eyes and began pushing aside the stacks of files.: "He's been posting a lot of stuff on the internet for us, sir."
"You need to look into these things better." Jack nearly shoved Roger, this time placing him in a corner to see what Mickey Mouse was. "They're so badly encoded."
Roger stared at Jack. "How the hell are you able to tell me they don't exist?"
"In every waking moment I've thought about this, Steve, we just know something is faintly [sic] down there. It's been this way for years."
"Stolen." Jack's head cocked back, satisfied Jack's 'dream' was proving true. "This is an information breach by some madman," he giggled, leaning back against the more nerdy corner. "It feels like Steve did it very very naively, like it was no big deal at all. But if you really want to know why, I would suggest looking up further details of this, and finding out how it happens. At the very least, Apple can fix this."
Steve frowned. Roger rolled his shoulder, and Jack's eyes went wide.
"That's enough, Jack, I swear we're done for what's come to be called 'overt," Roger looked back over the shelves, tossing a stack of paperwork on to the man next to him. "If we need Jeremy about… regurgitating SCP-231, we'll know something, but this is going to cost them."
Steve clenched his stomach. "Yes, I know people. In fact, I already know them."
"Oh, dear, come on." Jack rubbed at his eyes, slightly dripping water as he struggled to keep his voice down. "Why would Steve do all this? Why set him up?"
"Why only do what he does? Tell his friends he's insane? Was he crazy? I don't think he was crazy. Sure, probably a little, but I'm not sure whether he was either. One thing's certain, Steve will not be talking to a reporter in any way, shape or form in the months following this article. That alone means that he has to be stopped before it's too late." Roger paused for a moment, and thought about opening their briefcase. "And you…"
Jack swallowed. He swallowed past his lips to keep his voice together. "Oh, it's delicious! The papers aren't to do any longer than we've undid them." Jack picked the paper up and waved it at Roger twice, before nodding in satisfaction, "Well, I did. Next thing was, Calvin was almost alive."
"Dead?"
Roger went and grabbed the paper, and sneered at Steve, "You wouldn't believe the sight of it!"
Steve paused for a moment, before snapping back, "These last couple snatches will have to be erased or otherwise erased, Calvin, thank you for keeping us at bay. May I have a few things from Roger?"
Jack took the paper… and began pinching his lips. "You're special? Of course, Jack, but I've heard the stories and seen the way he does it, Steve?"
"Those were in prison, Jack." Roger continued, folding up the paper
