The SCP Experience - Two Gods, and an Aggie | SCP-8479

Episode Date: December 29, 2025

Listen ad-free + bonus stories with a 7-day FREE trial of ⁠SCP Premium⁠. Cancel anytime. No commitment. This story is derived from ⁠The SCP Foundation Database⁠ and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0.⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/⁠⁠⁠ Author: Jake Bible For more terrifying stories from this author, check out his latest release – All The Monsters: Ten NoSleep Stories, Volume One: ⁠https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FY438TSV⁠ * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 18. Listener discretion is advised. #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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1-Depos only depots in Ontario. 50 tours on the machine-a-Bass-Begas Bonanza. Depos Minimimimimum of 10 dollars. Beye show Aggie stared at his phone screen, even though it had gone black several minutes ago. He wasn't quite sure whether the call he'd just ended actually happened or not.

It was all very surreal. But it was needed. What he'd created was just too great for mere mortals to handle. But, after a little thought, calling a service named Rentagod and asking for divine help over the phone felt kind of cheap? No, that wasn't the word Aggie was. looking for, not cheap, but commercial? Yes, commercial. But then, considering the reason he'd called, Aggie should have expected it to feel that way. After all, he needed help getting the

message out about his new invention. And wasn't that commerce in a nutshell? Aggie shoved that kind of base thinking out of his mind. He was a genius with an invention that would revolutionize everything. Absolutely everything. Thirsty after talking to the Rent-a-God operator, who was a nice gentleman, very knowledgeable, Aggie walked into his kitchen and opened the fridge. Slim picking sat before him on the mostly empty shelves. He'd been so busy that keeping food stocked had become a bit of a problem as of late. And Aggie wasn't much for grocery shopping anyway.

So he snagged the single can of generic brand diet soda, popped the top, and drank deeply. As he walked out of the kitchen, his hand to his mouth to stifle the sustained belch creeping up out of his esophagus. There was a polite knock at the door. Already? He finished his belch and cleared his throat. Um, yes, I'll be right there. It was stupid of Aggie to think that the god he'd procured would be anything but timely. It was sort of his schick.

Setting the can of diet soda down on an end table, Agie crossed his small, sparse bungalows living room and opened the door. Hey, you Aggie? A short man dressed, head to toe an old school Nike running gear stood on the porch. I got the right place? Oh, yes, yes, you have the right place. Aggie stepped aside, slightly in awe, but also slightly confused by the track suit. He was expecting more of a tunic or Toga outfit.

Please come in. Thank you so much for hurrying. I didn't hurry. Trust me. But you're welcome all the same, man. The short man brushed past Aggie and into the small bungalow. He looked about and nodded. Nice place. The short man scrunched his face a little.

Um, what's that smell? Yes, about that. Um, well, that's the reason I have purchased your services. Yeah, well, you haven't purchased anything yet. So let's stock payment, yeah? Of course, of course. I am prepared to pay cash or Bitcoin, but I was told you may prefer something more organic. The short man shrugged.

I dabble in all sorts of stuff, so it's really more about what you've got to offer. Will I take cash? Sure. Do I want to take cash? No. It's got no true intrinsic value, right? It's just paper. Or nowadays, numbers on a screen. There's no substance to it, no real weight.

The short man did a quick circle. nodding at Aggie's sparse decorations. You live here alone, Aggie, my man? Because it looks like you live here all alone. No girlfriend, no boyfriend, no spouse, partner, significant other to help you while away the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years, until you bite it and go for a ride with cannon across the river sticks. Aggie shook his head.

No, no, sorry. Just me. Why are you sorry? I don't know. You sounded disappointed. And what? Me not having a partner. Oh, right, yeah.

No, I'm disappointed in the complete and total lack of personality this house has. You know, I have a brother who could really spruce up the place. He doesn't charge much. Mostly a little of your life essence, so we can work up a delicious elixir for the nymphs. Man, have you ever been to a nymph party? they are high on elixir? Brilliant, baby. Brilliant! Um, no, not looking for decorative advice. Oh, he doesn't give advice. You hire my brother, and he completely takes over.

You get what he provides. And if you want any changes or alterations, well, you're S.O.L. on that front, my man. That doesn't sound pleasant at all. Why would I give over control to someone who you might ignore my personal aesthetic. Your personal aesthetic? The short man turned in a circle once more and shrugged. And what personal aesthetic is that, Aggie? Sad Bachelor with no taste. I mean, if that's what you're going for,

then you've freaking nailed it, man. You definitely don't need my brother's help with that. You have perfected sad bachelor. Aggie, maybe you should hire out your services to other sad bachelors. Go in, make sure they don't have too much color or life in any of their decorations. The short man walked over to the wall and felt the surface. What do you call this piece? Um, a stain?

I opened a packet of duck sauce too fast, and it sprayed everywhere. I couldn't get it cleaned off the wall. Well, it fits you, man. You could show others how to not open duck sauce packets properly and make a killing. We should talk branding right now. What? No, no. That's not why I called you here. I called you so you could help. Oh, crap. The short man put a finger in his ear. Aggie hadn't noticed the Bluetooth earpiece before. Give me one moment, though, will you, Aggie? I just got a new gig that will take only a second.

Maybe two seconds, but I doubt it. What? What do you mean you? The short man was gone in the blink of an eye. Aggie just stood there, stunned. But before he could even move an inch, the short man returned. His running outfit, slightly damp on the shoulders. Damn it! The short man frowned at his shoulders. I know I ran between the raindrops. I know it! He lifted a hand and shook it at the ceiling.

Nice one, Jupiter. Real freaking funny pops! Aggie frowned. I'm sorry. What did you say? Which part? There were more than a few words in that sentence I just uttered. Yes, I know. But you said a name. Jupiter?

Yep. Jupiter. My pops. Good guy when he's not changing into animals and nailing maidens and fields. I give my bro so much crap for that. But it never stops being funny. The short man chuckled. Good thing I'm fast on my feet.

Or Hercules would have totally ripped my head off by now. Heracles, you mean? And when you said Jupiter, you meant Zeus. Um, no. My bro's name. name is Hercules. And who the underworld are you to tell me what my pop's name is? I mean, come on, man, he's my pops?

I know his name. It's Jupiter. Aggie rubbed his face. Oh dear, this isn't what was supposed to happen. How you mean? The short man looked about, already bored with the conversation. Hey, you got anything to eat? I am starved.

Running to Barcelona in back in two seconds really works up an appetite. No, I'm afraid my cupboards are a little bear. But, speaking of food, bummer, okay. Not getting paid in food, looks like. The short man clapped his hands together, and a peal of thunder roared over the bungalow, causing him to laugh. Whoa, pops, knock it off. I got this, all right? He grinned at Aggie. So, not doing cash and not doing food?

What am I getting paid then? Well, not to be rude, but I'm afraid you aren't getting paid at all. There has been a misunderstanding. I didn't call for you. You didn't? The short man pulled a huge wad of notes out of his pocket and sorted through them. Most fell from his grasp and disappeared before touching the hardwood floor.

But one remained in the man's hand. He brought it close to his nose and studied it. Yeah, no. Says here, Aggie North, 167 East Hampton Avenue. And that's where I went. I'm never wrong with addresses. You are Agie North, right man? I am, yes, but...

And this is 167 East Hampton Avenue, right? Yes, it is, but... Then I don't see what the problem is, Agi North. I'm in the right place. You're the right guy! Let's do some business. Yes, this is the right address, and I am the right guy. But you are the wrong God.

The statement fell between them like a dead bird, tumbling from a fig tree. The short man studied Aggie for a good several seconds, rubbed his face up and down, then nodded. Right, yeah, got it. You aren't looking for me. You're looking for him. He began to stomp around the room, cursing left and right. Of course you're asking for him.

Everyone asks for him. They think because he was the quote-unquote original that he's more powerful or got more cash with the cosmological wonders of all existence. The short man stopped stomping and marched over to Aggie, backing him up against the duck saw's stained wall. Is that what you think, Agi North? That he's the original? So he's better somehow? Well, let me tell you a thing or two, Mr. I'm going to die alone because I can't decorate a lovely arts and crafts bungalow properly, that he is no better than I am. In fact, he is way, way, way weaker than me. Does he have an entire planet in his name? Does he have his own space on the periodic table? Does he have a card brand named after him? Does he?

No, he does not man. So stop acting all stuck up and realize that I am the real deal. You're going to get way better results from me than from him every damn day of the week. Aggie swallowed hard and shuffled his feet, feeling a mixture of horror, embarrassment, shame, and confusion. It wasn't his fault that the wrong god was called to his house. Um, yes, well, Mr. Mercury, I am sorry for the trouble this may have caused, but... Don't Mr. Mercury me. I'm a freaking God, Aggie. I'm the son of Jupiter. I'm the fastest thing in winged high tops, bro.

You don't call me, mister, you worship my ass. Middle managers are misters. I'm freaking divine, dude. Yes, of course you are. And I agree with all of that. It's just for what I need, I think the first... The door burst open, and in walked a short man dressed in an impeccably tailored Italian suit, talking on his phone. He held up a finger before anyone could say anything. I know that Tim wants Apple to return to its heyday, but he's got to put in the work too.

As I said, I can bring my brother in and help with design. Really revolutionized things. That liquid glass? Pure gimmick. Timmy's going to have to dig deep if he doesn't want to end up with a power of PC situation on his hands. The impeccably dressed man kept his finger up, staving off any interruptions. Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Tell him if he's serious, he has my number.

The man hung up and looked Aggie up and down. Aggie North? Uh, yes. Good. I'm in the right place. Now, before we get down to business, Let's talk payment, shall we? I am partial to.

The man looked at the other short man in the room. Oh, didn't see you there, Mercury. How are things with you these days? Mercury scoffed. Kiss my ass, Hermes. You clocked me the second you walked in. Did I? Maybe.

Doesn't really matter. What does matter is why you are here. This is a call for Hermes, not his across-the-sea-stolen knock-off. Across the Sea, Stolen. Knock off? Are you freaking kidding me with that crap? You are such a pompous ass, Hermes. Yes, well, such is the right of the original. Ermes smirked. He waved a handed Mercury and a shoeing gesture. Go on now. Time to let the real God get to work.

Thunder rolled above. See? Dad agrees with me. That wasn't your dad. That was my pop saying you're full of sheep shit. Ha, ha, ha, me? Full of sheep shit? At least I don't stick my... Hermes' phone rang, and he held up a finger as he answered it. Go for Hermes. Um, I'm not sure this is what I ordered.

Aggie frowned from one god to the other. I was told that... No, Dad, I heard you, and I'll get her the message. Hermes rolled his eyes, then cupped the phone and mouthed. Hair of trouble. My pops doesn't have a hair a problem, because he's married to Juno. Right, Dad, I got it.

Hermes tapped his foot impatiently. No, Dad. I didn't write it down. I don't need to. I'm the messenger of the gods. Remembering messages is sort of my thing. I always write down the important messages. Hermes flipped them off. No, really. I think I need to call the services again. This isn't what I wanted.

Dad, I've got it. Now, I'm conducting some business. So can I call you back later after I delivered the message? Hermes rolled his eyes, beyond exasperated. Uh-huh, yep, that too. Dad? I got to go. Yep, yep, love you too. Hermes hung up the phone.

Then, scrunched up his face. What is that smell? Do you two smell that? It's a link. Your pops did not tell you he loved you. Mercury shook his head. He'd never say that to you or any of his eyes. kids. Maybe your dad doesn't say it, but mine does. That is such a load of sheep shit. You know.

What does that even mean? Guys? Um, guys? Aggie tried to cut in, but the two gods ignored him. Talk about sheep shit. Hermes looked, Mercury up and down. Is that a track suit? Because that went out of style decades ago. It's a vintage, and better than that Armani coffee you're wearing. Did you honestly think that wasn't original? I mean, come on, man. Look at that stitching. It's all wrong. Um, hey guys. Aggie shuffled his feet nervously as he wrung his hands. Hello? Can we get back to my job? Oh, the head is on human. Listen up, Mercury. Try as hard as you want. You won't ever be up to my level. You're a stolen god, taken millennia after I was brought into existence. You don't have the experience.

Or the swagger than I've got. I was on my ten thousandth pair of winged shoes by the time your people even set foot on the grease. And look what happened there. Your people got their asses conquered. Did not. Did so. The space program! Both gods turned slowly and glared it, Aggie. What was that little man? The space program didn't exist when Rome conquered the Greece, dude.

Rome didn't conquer shit. Beach. The space program, the Mercury Space Program. It was named after you too. Aggie gave Hermes an apologetic look. Sorry, it came to mind, so I said it. Great, what a skill. Do you also announce to the room when you have to poo-poo and pee-pee? Hermes got in close to Aggie. How about you, tell me what the job is, so we can start with the payment negotiations. You called, I came.

No, I came. Yeah, well, he meant for me. Hermes cocked his head, then smirked as he raised both eyebrows. What's that in your ear? Is that Bluetooth? How old is that? And don't tell me it's vintage, too. It works great. It gets perfect to reception no matter what environment I'm in. I've never had it unpaired from my phone ever, not once. Mercury scowled, obviously defensive about the tech.

Hermes held his hands up in mock apology. Hey, all good, pal. I mean, real business people these days don't use that crap. But if it works for you, that's just wonderful. Hermes takes a step to the side and looks behind Mercury. What are you looking at? Looking for your matching fanny bag. The British call them bum bags, because fanny means vagina over there.

Both gods frowned and locked eyes. an unspoken statement passing between them. You know what? I'm thinking this job is perfect for you, Merck. I'm sure the service has something much more important lined up for me. Nah, you can have this one. You were right. It was your job from the get-go.

Simple misunderstanding. No, no, you take it. No, you take it. I don't want to take it. Sure you do, man. Look at the guy. He's just your kind of client. They both looked at Aggie, condescending shark-toothed grins on their faces.

Um, I'm confused. A minute ago you were fighting over this job. Now you don't want it? Ah, that's where you're wrong, pal. We weren't fighting over this job specifically. We were just fighting. It's what we do when we run into each other. Mercury shrugged. I mean, you haven't even said what the job is yet. It isn't promising. Not at all. Not if you want to be successful in commerce. And make some serious coin.

Which is what I specialize in. I am the god of commerce and coin. Through that, bro. Aggie's head was spinning. He couldn't keep track of which God was saying what. Even though they were dressed differently and had different ways of speaking, the world seemed to swim. And all he could see was one god with two heads and four arms and four legs

and, Hey, Aggie, you in there? Hermes snapped his fingers in Aggie's face. Then he waved his hand in front of his own face. No, seriously. What does that smell? I smelled it as soon as I came inside. Mercury raised an eyebrow at Aggie. It really stinks, man. Is your septic backed up or something? I'm on city sewer, so no.

Aggie sighed. What you are smelling is the reason you were both here. Although I only wanted one of you. me. Hermes hooked a thumb at his own chest. I'm the one you wanted. Let's be clear on that. Yes, true.

But really, I think either of you would do. Aggie walked toward the kitchen. If you'll follow me, I'll show you what will change everything as we know it. That's a bold statement, Aggie. You'd better be able to back it up, Mercury added. Oh, I'll back it up. This is going to blow your minds. Aggie led them into the kitchen and over to a single door.

Behind this door is something unlike even you two have ever seen. A basement? I've seen a basement. No, no, not a basement. Aggie frowned. Well, yes, it's my basement, but it's what's down in the basement that is going to change it all. And when you say it's all, you mean what exactly? Be precise, Aggie. Have neither of you been listening?

to me. The two gods looked at each other and shrugged. Agi rubbed his forehead. I have created something so revolutionary that eventually people will cease to remember a day when my invention didn't exist. Agi opened the door, and both gods took steps back, their hands covering their noses. Zeus! Jupiter, man! What is that? You sure you want the city, sir? Because that smells like Hadesus' cesspits. It's not that bad. Aggie reached through the doorway and switched on a dim, overhead bulb that hung above rickety wooden stairs. Yeah, man, I'm not going down there. I've seen this horror movie. You're a god, Mercury. What can you possibly be afraid of?

Hermes laughed. Then the laugh died away. With that said, you got here first, so you should go down first. Not a chance in the underworld, man. You go first. I'll go first, and you two can follow. Aggie started down the stairs. The two gods rolled their eyes, then poof, they were gone and at the bottom of the stairs. Beat you? Ably.

Aggie gripped the stairs railing, his legs weak from the sudden sight of both gods below him. Okay, hold on. I have to unlock the door. Can you hurry it up, man? Yeah, we both have shit to do. You have to deliver a message to her. I already did that while you were shaking in your Nikes. No, you didn't. I defelt the sonic pressure. That's the difference between Asmerk.

People know when you come and go, but with me, I'm so smooth that you never notice. Oh, is that what Hecatee says after you leave her bed? Hey, you keep Eckettys name out of your mouth, pal. Or what? Guys, stop! Look! Aggie moved at the basement's far wall and slid a large, barn door to the side. The stench instantly quadrupled. Behold! Pigs with wings! Both gods stopped talking instantly. Neither seemed able to comprehend what they were seeing, or what Agie had said. Pretty cool, right?

Aggie walked through the door and over to a set of pens that held miniature pigs with, well, wings. Everyone is always chicken wings this, chicken wings that. But no one thinks of the other white meat, do they? Pork! So I decided to genetically engineer pot-bellied pigs down to a reasonable size, and then get them to grow wings. Wings? Like I said, because we needed something other than chicken wings to eat. Pig wings are perfect. They cook up better, dry out less, and have a deeper, more robust flavor due to the gaming nature that pot-bellied pigs have. Pot-bellied pigs are batsmen. Mercury looked a little green around the collar of his track suit.

Yeah, I've eaten some strange things, including the nether regions of a gorghum. But this is a step too far, and also an affront to nature and all she has created. You're playing god, man, which is fine for, you know, gods to do, but not for humans. Never humans. Never humans. The gods sighed in unison and looked at each other. We should stop this. Probably best.

What? No! I called the service so I could have help with the marketing and messaging of the brand new... Wait for it. Camel wings! Um, what? Did you say, camel wings? I'm still workshopping the name. Aggie looked slightly embarrassed.

If you have a better idea, I'd love to hear it. You are the experts in messaging. Yeah, well, that is true. Hold on. Why camel wings? They're pigs. Chicken wings are called buffalo wings. So I thought I'd go in a direction like that.

I also thought of elk wings or hippo wings. Why? Yeah, why any of those names? And why even do this? I do not say, because there aren't already chicken wings. There was a clatter in one of the pens, and a single pig, its tiny wings beating like a hummingbirds, lifted up off the soiled muck of the basement floor. Hold on, they can fly?

Um, I guess so. Aggy's eyes went wide with wonder, as two more started to flutter up toward the basement's rafters. They've never done that before. Dear Jupiter man, do you know what you've done? Do you know how many curses, wishes, wants, agreements, contracts, and just plain bullshit are predicted on pigs flying? Do you, Aggie? Do you? Immediately, Hermes phone rang, and Mercury's Bluetooth buzzed. Yeah, we know. I'm standing at ground zero.

Pigs are freaking flying. No, do not go anywhere. I'll be right there. And tell Mars to calm down. This is not the end times. It's just a small mishap. The two gods were gone before Agi could say another word. Then he heard the explosions and felt the rumble of the earth.

Somewhere far off, people screamed. The flying pigs oint, then lost their balance and fell back into the pen. Don't take it personally, my little miracles. No one understands you like I do. Aggie leaned on the pen and sighed as outside the world started to burn. And I didn't even get to tell them about all the sauces I invented. SCP-8479 is a service that allows members of the public to temporarily summon godlike or deistic entities in exchange for payment, favors,

or other forms of compensation. By dialing a specific 10-digit number on any device capable of two-way verbal communication, callers are connected to an operator who has, helps select an appropriate entity for their request. Once an agreement is made, the chosen entity manifests near the caller, completes the requested task within a set time limit after payment is accepted, and then de-manifests, returning to its prior location. Notably, any qualifying deistic entities already contained by the foundation will automatically

breach containment to fulfill these requests, but will reliably return to containment once the interaction concludes.