Maybe you recognize the title of this SCP from a famous Simpsons bit, but don't read this SCP expecting any apes or the fatal temperature reduction thereof; it's just kind of symbolic for an escalating biological threat the Foundation just can't seem to contain.

This SCP is written in three alternate entries, updated as the phenomenon has continued to evolve and change. At first, it's just a nasty variation on smallpox encountered by the Foundation in 1906 in which the associated pustules contain both pus and beer. So much beer, people's sores eventually spurt it in all directions or their bodies completely swell up and explode with booze. Worse still, victims are compelled to eat their own putrid, boozey flesh to spread the contamination further. Fortunately, a mixture of lead, hydrargyrum and alcohol developed by the Foundation proves effective at both curing and inoculating 99% of subjects, and by adding the mixture to commercial beer, the Foundation seems to have the illness under control.

...Until a bit over a decade later, when a new strain of the disease surfaces, and now produces lead and hydrargyrum along with the usual alcoholic pus. That's not all the illness has learned to do, either; now, once a victim has eaten enough of their own flesh, their body uses it to assemble what looks and feels precisely like a beer bottle, which is subsequently excreted by the host. Shat. From their butt.

Hosts are then compelled to squeeze their beer-filled sores into their butt bottle until it's filled with frothy goodness, and spread the disease by tricking anyone they can into taking a swig. Do you like the photo I picked for this entry, by the way?

People no longer explode and die under this new infection, but they do repeat the whole horrendous process every 24 hours and refuse to even believe that there's anything wrong with them. "Foooortunatelyyyy", the Foundation figures out a new antidote that includes something [REDACTED] and small amounts of silica, though not before the United States enacts prohibition, and the Foundation must enlist the help of bootleggers to get the cure in circulation.

...So, cut to present day, when SCP-2680 strikes back yet again, and this time, a victim will devour the skin off of their hands and arms before regurgitating six "beer bottles," "labels" and "bottlecaps," filling each bottle with regurgitated hooch, capping them all themselves, and subsequently believing that they simply picked up all this swell beer at the store, which of course they just can't wait to share!

It turns out these new bottles are themselves giant viruses, and wouldn't you know it, they're comprised at least partially of silica. If it wasn't already apparent, every "cure" by the Foundation simply prompts a more advanced evolution of the beerpox, and there's no end to its rapid adaptations in sight. The entry finally ends on the discovery of an entire town in which the adults are producing beer-bottle viruses and the children are producing coke bottles.

This kind of wholly impossible, dreamlike body horror is a favorite motif of mine, and I could easily see this SCP as the storyline to a Junji Ito manga or similar work. The special formatting of the piece felt almost unnecessary to me at first, but I like that the Foundation keeps mutating an anomalous disease into something exponentially weirder and more specialized with every attempt at containment, and the implication that this is only going to keep happening. You can't help but ponder how much farther it could go, and especially how far if the Foundation weren't at least slowing it down.

I can't help imagining a timeline in which humans the world over are basically reduced to some horrible biological brewing system, bloated tanks of flesh that exist strictly to keep the beer-virus alive.