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[tahujdt]

So I was reading some SCP Foundation, and spotted one called "Critical Tomatoes", SCP 504. Being a tomato myself, I read it.

Apparently it's a species of tomato which flies at extreme velocities toward anything that makes a bad joke while in its vicinity.

Item: One mature SCP-504 tomato
Subject: D-504-3
Spoken: "So, I was going to bed, and my brother told me, 'Goodnight! Don't let the bedbugs stick their proboscis in your skin and suck your blood!'" *pause* "Good luck on a healthy dermis!"
Result: Two-second pause before activity. Tomato clocked at [REDACTED]. Sound barrier broken. Subject killed.

Sheesh. I wonder what would happen if they were Iron?
*Tomato hits IronTomato in the forehead, bruising it

I don't get it. Please explain.

[Darvi]

They're tomatoes that throw themselves at people who make bad jokes.

He made a bad joke.

Please don't make me explain the rest.

[tahujdt]

They're tomatoes that throw themselves at people who make bad jokes.

He made a bad joke.

Please don't make me explain the rest.

I get the SCP, just not the joke. I meant the joke in the SCP log is what I don't get.

[Darvi]

That falls under "the rest" which I don't wish to explain.

[SealyStar]

I've gotten so many extra content Skyrim mods that the game which already keeps me jumping around and sidetracking constantly is basically a knee-deep mire of stuff to do. Please direct me to a Skyrim-anon group. I want my social life back.

[tahujdt]

Ah.

In other happies, my Web Design teacher is allowing me to use Bluegriffon instead of Dreamweaver, so now I don't have to wait for a computer to be open.
(For context, the school accidentally ordered too few copies of Dreamweaver, so they only have it installed on about a dozen computers.)

[The Darkling Wolf]

They're tomatoes that throw themselves at people who make bad jokes.

He made a bad joke.

Please don't make me explain the rest.

I get the SCP, just not the joke. I meant the joke in the SCP log is what I don't get.

As per the comments, it's a reference to the SCP creator's brother, who used to say it to him. That's about the entire context.

[Darvi]

Ah.

In other happies, my Web Design teacher is allowing me to use Bluegriffon instead of Dreamweaver, so now I don't have to wait for a computer to be open.
(For context, the school accidentally ordered too few copies of Dreamweaver, so they only have it installed on about a dozen computers.)

We only get to use Notepad for web design.

Or Notepad++ if we're feeling fancy.

[DeKaFu]

They're tomatoes that throw themselves at people who make bad jokes.

He made a bad joke.

Please don't make me explain the rest.

I get the SCP, just not the joke. I meant the joke in the SCP log is what I don't get.

There's not really a "joke" to get. It's just someone riffing off the "don't let the bedbugs bite" rhyme by describing it more literally. Sometimes people do that to try to be funny. The last part isn't really a punchline, even though it's presented kind of like one. Does that help?

This SCP annoys me and it's partly because of that line.

[Dutchling]

This might fit better in the terrified thread, but it also made me happy.

[Jopax]

Such funky, very trip, wow.

Or somesuch, I'm not really good with memes, but snarky puppy is damn awesome.

[Mesa]

FOXYNAUT, OH MY GOOOOD!
Reveal stream on Friday. Gonna drop by this thread again on that day, I can assure you.

[SealyStar]

FOXYNAUT, OH MY GOOOOD!
Reveal stream on Friday. Gonna drop by this thread again on that day, I can assure you.

Ew furries

I kid.

[Zangi]

More of a 'You lucky bastard' moment:

On two lane road with a short stretch.  Waiting on lights.  Me and some sporty looking car at the front.  Lights go green, I'm already moving, steady up to +10.  Sporty car lags behind, then begins to gun it.  Can hear his engine roar, despite my radio.  By the time he passes me, he is probably +20 or damn near it.  See him immediately slow down as soon as he passes me.  Behind snowbank, a cop is sitting there... but, he was talking to someone.

That lucky bastard.

[LeoLeonardoIII]

The house I used to live in, this guy would blaze past in his motorcycle just gunning it to the max, most nights, at like 1 AM. This was a residential street with a speed limit of 30 mph but straight enough that you could probably get away with going 90 without crashing if it were empty. I'm sure he wasn't going 90, but he sure wasn't going 30 either. An estimate generous to him would be 40-50.

Anyway, I remember being woken up regularly by this just wishing that one night I would hear an explosion followed by the tinkle of motorcycle parts scattering up the block.

How bad does something someone does have to be before I will wish they died? Don't ask me that question at 1 AM after kicking me out of a sound sleep.