The year was 1975. It was a warm June evening in South Carolina,
and 14-year-old Jason White was ready to prove his mettle. Like a lot of boys his age, it mattered a
great deal to him that his peers saw him as strong, tough, and most important of all,
brave. That’s why he was camped out, alone, just
outside of the junkyard as the sky went dark above him. He’d heard rumors about the things that
went on inside that junkyard. Scary things. Unnatural things. But Jason wasn’t about to let those stories
scare him. He knew for a fact that the junkyard had been
abandoned for months if not longer. Nobody was in there. He’d be fine. Or at least that’s what he kept telling
himself. With the moon high up in the sky, Jason crept
into the junkyard, using a flashlight’s beam to light his way. Behind the towers of busted-down cars and
scrap metal, he heard a distant but loud grinding noise. Was it coming from one of the warehouses? No, that’s impossible, he thought. Just his mind playing tricks on him. But curiosity compelled him to get closer. Jason approached the warehouse and saw that
the big, iron door was still ajar. His heart was in his throat as he peered into
the building, and saw the impossible: It was a man - no, a machine! Cobbled together from pipes, wires, and aluminum. It was using a power saw to cut apart metal
on a workbench. But it wasn’t just one robot, there was
movement all around it, jerking and twitching in the shadows. As his flashlight beam passed over them, Jason
saw the moving, living bodies of a menagerie of metal creatures. He screamed in shock, and the robotic denizens
of the warehouse all turned and looked at him. Jason had never felt more afraid in his life,
until the humanoid robot, still carrying the power saw, turned and began walking towards
him. It was waving its free hand around wildly
in what Jason perceived as some kind of threat. Letting out another animal screech, Jason
turned and ran all the way out of the junkyard, until the sounds of clanking metal faded out
behind him. Jason was scarred for life, and in that moment,
he vowed to never return to his local junkyard ever again. And this was a wise choice. Because not long after that, a very different
group would be commandeering the junkyard, and as fans of this channel will know, they
don’t take kindly to intruders... If you've ever been on a long road trip through
a rural part of the United States, you've most likely seen a few quirky signs and wacky-looking
businesses along the way. Whether it's a diner with a dinosaur protruding
out of the front, a gas station shaped like a UFO, or a particularly weird mural, businesses
in the small towns lining the freeways often have to get creative when it comes to attracting
patrons. Locations like this saw their heyday in the
1950's and 60's, but as the cost of gasoline skyrocketed in the 70's , and technological
advances in aviation made flight more accessible as a form of travel, less and less people
were making long cross-country drives on a regular basis. This caused an economic downturn in many small
towns, and led to a large number of quirky and unique roadside locations being abandoned
by their owners. Some have been torn down or remodeled, but
others remain as they were, hanging on as tourist destinations and serving as reminders
of a bygone era. One such place that you might encounter if
you ever find yourself heading down I-95 South is Jamaican Joe's Junkyard Jubilee. The colorful storefront is decorated with
a mural depicting a picturesque tropical lagoon, while the sign reads “One Love” in hand-painted
green and yellow letters. At first glance, this might just seem like
another roadside oddity, but if you were to try and check it out, you'd be blocked by
a patrol of 6 armed guards, SCP Foundation agents of course, and depending on how much
you saw you might be administered an amnestic before being sent on your way. Because Jamaican Joe's isn't just another
junkyard, it's SCP-100. SCP-100 came to the Foundation's attention
on November 9, 1976, after tracking a series of rumors about a mysterious abandoned scrap
yard where the machines ran on their own and strange metal figures could be seen patrolling
the grounds. When the foundation arrived at the site, they
installed wooden privacy screens around the fence of the junkyard, replaced the storefront
windows with one-way glass, and redirected the highway through a nearby town to keep
civilian traffic from getting too close. Jamaican Joe's Junkyard Jubilee is 5,000 square
meters of fenced-off land located in rural South Carolina. As the name suggests, it's a junkyard, made
up of two warehouses, a storefront, a small residential building, and a storage space
containing roughly 1,500 vehicles of varying makes and models, some of which have been
compressed into cubes. There is also a variety of other metal scrap
on the site, altogether valued to be worth about $5,000 - pocket change to an organization
like the SCP Foundation. Just like many other cases where the anomaly
cannot be relocated to a pre-established Foundation containment site for research, the SCP Foundation
instead brought the research to the anomaly. The larger of the two warehouses on site is
now the de-facto research center for all matters involving SCP-100, as well as a temporary
residence for on-site staff. It’s important to note that there's nothing
anomalous about the location itself, but within the area of the junkyard are a variety of
Euclid-Class anomalous entities. The property was, at one point, owned by a
man by the name of Joseph Duval - presumably the titular Jamaican Joe. However, the whereabouts of Mr. Duval are
unknown. Research into local records show that the
utility bills to Mr. Duval's personal address had stopped around 3 months before the junkyard
was found. Upon the first sweep of the location, the
Foundation found no evidence of human habitation, save for one note taped to the door of the
storefront, reading, “Out 2 Lunch, Please See Assistant- JJ.” The first anomaly that was catalogued on the
site was SCP-100-1, a humanoid automaton made of scrap metal - mainly copper wires and tin
cans. SCP-100-1 has a limited degree of sapience,
and although it has no means of verbal or written communication, it does speak through
the use of a rudimentary sign language. It seems uninterested in conversation though,
unless the topic has to do with the sale of scrap metal. The information the Foundation has been able
to learn from SCP-100-1 has been limited, but the fact it appears to be mostly work
and very little play is incredibly clear. What it lacks in conversational skills it
makes up for in craftsmanship. SCP-100-1 has been shown to be very adept
at using an arc welder, drill, power saw, and other machinery found around the junkyard. Through its metalworking skills, it is able
to create more beings like itself from the scrap that surrounds it. When given the chance, SCP-100 usually creates
automatons that resemble one of four animal species - flamingo, crocodile, turtle, or
iguana. However, it's also able to create metal copies
of other creatures, from bugs to domestic pet breeds like cats and dogs. While the Foundation usually destroys the
new constructs created by SCP-100-1, it has been allowed to keep two in order to keep
it placid and preserve a cordial working relationship with the Foundation operatives on site. These two metal creatures - which both resemble
large metal insects - have been designated SCP-100-2-A and SCP-100-2-B. Though it seems
SCP-100-1 has named them “Raymone” and “Beatrice” respectively, based on the
fact that those names are welded into the backs of the creatures. Raymone and Beatrice fulfil the role of perimeter
guards as well as companions to SCP-100-1. SCP-100-1 and its pets are peaceful in nature,
and in fact if they ever breach the perimeter of the junkyard, they lose all autonomy, seeming
to shut down until they are brought back within the perimeter. As such, containment breaches are nearly all
to come from outsiders trying to infiltrate the building rather than any of the anomalies
escaping. SCP-100-1's main function seems to be running
the junkyard in the absence of the mysterious “Jamaican Joe” Duval. It spends most of its day sorting scrap metal,
building new constructs, and performing maintenance tasks around the yard, and the robot seems
to follow a very strict, ritualistic schedule. From 8 am to 3 pm, SCP-100-1 enters the storefront
area of the junkyard. When a customer enters the shop, SCP-100-1
will take its position behind the front desk and begin bargaining with them, using hand
gestures to convey meaning. SCP-100-1 possesses the ability to perform
the basic mental arithmetic required to keep track of sales, despite seemingly being unable
to read. When SCP-100-1 has been observed making sales
to customers, the Foundation has found that the robot can be very underhanded and unfair
when it comes to running its business, like a kind of metallic Mr. Krabs. Frequently, it has been seen intentionally
selecting low-quality scrap or using scales that it knows are faulty in order to scam
customers. It also sells the animal automatons that it
creates, knowing full well that they will stop working as soon as they're taken out
of the junkyard. In cases where customers have rightfully come
back to demand refunds, SCP-100-1 invariably responds by gesturing to a sign on the wall
which reads “No refunds, mon!”, written in a phonetic Jamaican accent. After clocking out for the day… at 3 pm… SCP-100-1 spends an hour maintaining and socializing
with Raymone and Beatrice, its two insect-like pets. It will also communicate with them through
hand gestures, and will engage them in games of fetch or hide and seek in the junkyard. From 4 pm until 8 pm, SCP-100-1 spends its
time taking stock and cleaning all the tools and machinery on the premises. It also takes time to clean both the interiors
and exteriors of the various buildings on the site. Then, at 8pm, it appears to wind down for
the day with some leisure activities, including making more constructs, playing some more
with its pets, and taking strolls around the perimeter of the site. This leisure time lasts until midnight, when
SCP-100-1 will retire to the residential part of the junkyard. The robot doesn't need to sleep, but it does
seem to rest, sitting motionless at a desk from midnight until 8 am, when it resumes
the schedule again from the beginning. This was all that was observed at SCP-100
for decades following its discovery. SCP-100-1 was seemingly content with its life
and with the tasks that came with running the junkyard. However, on June 3, 2005, SCP-100-1 did something
it had never done before. As mentioned, SCP-100-1 had only been seen
using its skills to create autonomous animals from scrap metal, but on June 3, it chose
to create something else… another humanoid. The automaton was only 10cm tall, but SCP-100-1
took great care in crafting it, much more so than any of its creations. It gave this small figure distinct facial
features, and made the whole thing from high quality stainless steel. When SCP-100-1 was finished with its creation,
it welded the letters 'JJ' onto the back and took it into the storefront. During its 8 am to 3pm shift that day, SCP-100-1
sat at the desk with JJ on the desk next to itself, and the two seemed to carry on a conversation
through signing and gestures. As was policy with all of SCP-100-1's constructs,
excluding Raymone and Beatrice, JJ was confiscated, which SCP-100-1 took very badly. Following JJ's removal, SCP-100-1 returned
to the residential building and stayed there, remaining inert for a total of 10 days. It's unsure what really happened to the original
Jamaican Joe, or what his precise relationship was with SCP-100-1. Given the difficulty in communicating with
SCP-100-1, it's possible that we'll never know for sure. But from what little we’re able to glean
from the enigmatic “Out 2 Lunch, Please See Assistant- JJ.” note he left behind,
it’s very possible that before he left, Jamaican Joe may have created the best assistant
a junkyard owner could possibly ask for. Now go check out “SCP-5049 - The Skin Salesman
- Demon Dan's Discount Homunculus Depot” and “SCP-3008 - Trapped in IKEA” for more
supernatural enterprises from SCP Explained!
