Here we go again. It’s time to return to the
acid-filled containment chamber of SCP-682, more commonly known as the Hard to Destroy
Reptile. We’ve spoken about him and the ways The SCP Foundation has attempted to destroy him
in a previous video. But as we said back then, we really only scratched the surface of the huge
number of insane ways the Foundation has tried to wipe this ornery lizard
off the face of the earth. Today, we’re filling in some of the cracks. Let’s
take a look at the secret test logs detailing the Foundation’s unsuccessful quest to finally
destroy SCP-682. If you’re a real SCP Expert, you’re likely to recognize some
familiar faces we meet along the way... Esteemed Foundation Researcher Dr. Alto
Clef - famed for his somewhat unconventional personality - entered the test chamber to see
if he could intimidate the beast to death. This resulted in a long staring contest between
Dr. Clef and 682, towards the end of which, Dr. Clef began to lose his nerve. He tried to leave
the room, only to find that the door was locked, causing him to swear loudly. Dr.
Clef, who always tries to find the most direct solution to his problems, blew up
the door with plastic explosives and ran off. Test failed.
Next came SCP-662, a silver hand bell that summons the supernaturally
helpful butler, Mr. Deeds. When Mr. Deeds was summoned, Foundation researchers asked him if
he could kill SCP-682. Deeds politely explained that he wouldn’t be capable of killing 682, it’s
just too strong. When asked if he could at least incapacitate 682, he replied that the best way to
do this would be to poison himself and allow 682 to eat his body. But this, he reminded, would
only be a temporary problem for the lizard. Test failed.
The Foundation brought in SCP-689, a terrifying soapstone statue of a
sitting skeleton that can kill you if you see it and then stop paying attention to
it. 682 first observed the statue, and then the Foundation turned off the lights.
When they turned them back on, SCP-682 appeared to be dead in a puddle of gray and black liquid.
D-Classes were sent in to confirm that 682 was actually dead, but it instead got up and killed
them. Researchers theorized that 682’s definition of “life” is not quite the same as ours,
rendering 689’s death-related powers ineffective. Test failed. SCP-807 was next up to bat. This is an anomalous
salmon-colored ceramic dinner plate with the words "Last Chance Diner" printed on the edges in white. Any food placed on it becomes irresistible by
any definition, but when the food is consumed it causes immediate cardiac arrest due to
the sudden clogging of the arteries with fat. Researchers made a meal known as the
“682 Special” - 10 kg of rotten meat and sharpened bone splinters, 10 L of
rancid mayonnaise, 1 L potassium cyanide, and 1 kg morphine hydrochloride, combined
into a solid mass and transmuted by 807. When 682 first consumed this
disgusting meal, it seemed to collapse. However, when D-Classes were sent in to see
whether 682 was truly out for the count, multiple holes opened in its body. These
holes fired out high-pressure jets of blood, killing the nearby D-Classes and destroying
the containment cell. 682 was fine afterwards. Test failed.
To kill 682, it seemed that the Foundation really needed to have God
on their side. So they tried to recruit SCP-343, also known as “God”, to help them destroy the
beast. However, when he entered the containment chamber, he somehow couldn’t even see the
beast. When researchers asked him whether he could kill 682, God replied, “He's
not one of mine. Deal with him yourself." Test failed. Next, the Foundation recruited SCP-524: A small
white rabbit that can eat literally anything, including itself, without being harmed. The
rabbit was released into SCP-682’s chamber, at which point it approached 682 and began to
eat one of its legs. 682 roared in pain and scuttled up the wall, out of 524’s reach, where
it remained for a number of hours. At this point, SCP-524 seemed to become bored, and began eating
its way out of containment through a nearby wall. Test failed. Maybe the luck of the Irish was what the
Foundation needed to finally put this monster to rest. They recruited SCP-1933, a fat man
dressed as Santa Claus whose bodily fluids are entirely the alcoholic beverage known as
Irish Cream. However, if enough of this Irish cream is fed to something, all of their bodily
fluids will become Irish cream, killing them. The Foundation fed large quantities of this
Irish cream to SCP-682. At first, it appeared intoxicated, a promising sign. However, it vomited
out a massive quantity of SCP-1933 bodily fluids, turning the walls of its cell into Irish cream
and allowing it to escape and wreak havoc. Test failed.
The Foundation recruited the help of SCP-2337, an intelligent corn crake known as Dr. Spanko,
with a voice so loud it can quite literally talk its victims to death if it speaks
to them for an extended period of time. It was sent into SCP-682’s chamber to destroy
the beast, but 682 just told it to leave, and the talkative bird obliged - by blowing
away one of the chamber walls with a yell, allowing SCP-682 to breach containment again. Test failed. As you can probably sympathize with right now,
the Foundation researchers were starting to get a little frustrated with their lack of progress.
They even pitched the possibility of sending SCP-682 into an alternate dimension, perhaps
into a stalemate against its alternate self. But this pitch was shot down by the O5 Council on
the grounds that it was way, way, way too risky. Back to the drawing board. By which we mean,
they literally transformed SCP-682’s skin into a kind of drawing board.
SCP-2521 is an anomaly that manifests any time information about it
is recorded, and immediately grabs the source of the information, wrapping it in
its tendrils and taking it away with it. The Foundation sought to take advantage of this
by using a laser to cut this anomalous information into SCP-682’s side. However, this didn’t
have the results that they were hoping for. SCP-2521 did turn up to take the
information, but it only took the skin on which the information was carved.
682 survived and quickly grew back its skin. Test failed.
Researchers suggested tracking down SCP-169, an obscenely massive underwater creature known
as The Leviathan, and feeding 682 to the beast. However, this idea was immediately shot down
by the O5 Council. If 682 did what it did best: Surviving the attack and acting accordingly,
perhaps by growing to the size of SCP-169, it would likely trigger an XK-Class End of the
World Scenario. It simply was not worth the risk. The Foundation released two specimens of SCP-939
into 682’s test chamber. These voice-imitating, amnesia-inducing monsters have
caused huge damage to human targets, so maybe they had some hope against 682.
This hope turned out to be misplaced: Both specimens seemed extremely distressed by 682’s
presence and refused to engage. 682 did not have that same refusal. It charged in and brutally
killed both, before devouring their corpses. Test failed.
In a very well-documented case, the adorable SCP-999 was introduced into 682’s test chamber.
The unassailable good vibes provided by 999, as well as an intense tickle fight, did actually
lead to the temporary incapacitation of SCP-682. However, the otherwise wholesome incident ended in
tragedy when 682 adapted to the good vibes and was able to release a kind of violent laughter
wave. This incapacitated much of the staff and allowed 682 to breach containment and go on
another killing spree, before being recontained. Test, once again, failed. One of the closest attempts the
Foundation ever had involved SCP-294, an anomalous coffee machine that can
produce any liquid typed into its keypad. Foundation researchers requested “SCP-682
Killer” from the machine, and were astounded at the results. During tests on SCP-682 tissue
samples, the liquid was capable of causing 682 tissue to decay and crumble. Tests on the living
creature were similarly promising. The acid in 682’s tank was receded, and one liter of SCP-682
Killer was poured onto it, causing that portion of its flesh to immediately decay. When the acid
was returned, this portion dissolved instantly. Scientists believe that if they could one day
get a large enough quantity of this liquid, they might have a viable option.
But until then, the tests march on. They introduced SCP-055, the self-keeping
secret, into the containment chamber of SCP-682. We don’t really know what happened, but seeing
as 682 isn’t dead, we now know that 055 can’t kill it. That and the fact it isn’t round
is pretty much all we know about SCP-055. Test failed. Next came SCP-082, also known as Fernand the
Cannibal. Fernand was first presented a piece of flesh from 682, but rather than eating
it, he inspected it and began to express joy that his “friend” still lived. When
introduced into 682’s testing chamber, Fernand attempted to subdue the lizard
and use it as his steed. 682 expressed an intense hatred of both Fernand and the idea
of being Fernand’s steed, so the two of them engaged in combat. Mobile Task Forces were
eventually brought in to subdue both subjects. In the debrief interview, both hinted
that the two of them shared history prior to containment. 682 was
reluctant to talk about it. Test failed. Researchers were becoming extremely frustrated
with SCP-682’s unwillingness to die, so they called in an SCP who responded to
reason much better: SCP-049, the Plague Doctor. This sinister surgeon can kill with a touch, and
the Foundation hoped that would extend to 682. However, the result was a dud.
The Plague Doctor did touch 682, but it experienced no adverse effects, and
even swiped at the doctor. Upon leaving, 049 reported feeling “emotionally
disturbed” by his encounter with SCP-682. Yep, you guessed it: Test failed. If it gives you any indication of just how
desperate the researchers were at this point, Dr. Richard Graham pondered whether introducing
SCP-682 to a human with just as pessimistic and misanthropic feelings as itself would somehow
pacify it. They sent in a particularly nasty D-Class, and the two spoke. Fascinatingly,
682 didn’t attempt to harm this D-Class, they just shared their profane and bleak
sentiments about the human race with one another. However, some of 682’s opinions were
a little too spicy for this D-Class. After listening to the reptile speak
for twenty minutes, the D-Class fell into a catatonic state from the sheer
depression of it all. He died not long after. One anonymous researcher suggested
perhaps the worst idea of all: Letting SCP-682 out into the wild. Not even to
really terminate it, just to see what it does. The anonymous scientist figured there would be
some merit in analyzing the creature’s behavior. As you can probably guess, this request
was shot down by the O5 Council. The note attached to the request by
one of its members summed it up best: “I'll tell you what it'll do. It'll go out for
a nice stroll, murder a few innocent people, go fishing, slaughter a few more innocent people,
start up a tech-company, eat a few more innocent people, go on a vacation to Florida, dismember a
few more innocent people! I swear, when I find out who wrote this, you can personally enter 682's
containment chamber to analyze him yourself!” Even this isn’t covering every single attempt to
terminate SCP-682, but all attempts have either been failures or too risky or potentially
unviable to even try. Sadly, for the SCP Foundation and the human race, it’s likely we’ll
be dealing with SCP-682 for a long time to come. How do you think 682 could finally be killed?
Let us know down in the comments below! Now check out “SCP-682 - Ways The Foundation Tried
To Kill The Hard To Destroy Reptile” and “SCP-999 - The Tickle Monster” for more fascinating
facts about this lizard with anger issues.
