Terra Nova Research Base, Antarctica.
RAIN-931: “Vitameatavegamin bottle from the “I Love Lucy” studio set”.
Published in 1963 [rewritten in 1977, after the Incident, and updated in 1986]
“Hello friends, I’m your Vitameatavegamin girl. Are you tired, run-down, listless? Do you poop-out of parties? Are you unpopular? The answer of all your problems is in this little bottle! Vitameatavegamin!”
This has to be one of the hardest things to write; not just because is the rewriting of something I had stored away so many years ago, but also because of what happened a few weeks ago. Most of the time, the people who write the reports don’t have to think about them after you are dome. It is simply a guidance for the people on Maintenance and Security, who have to deal with the artefacts after they are brought here, or to work as some sort of cautionary tale for the Retrieval Teams in the potential threat or find a similar one in the wild.
There are ominous artefacts which are really just much ado about nothing, and some which seem simple enough and are like Pandora’s box. Others, on the other hand, have the habit of being what you see is what you get, until you do something reckless or stupid.
Part of the set of one of the most watched television series in history. In 1952, “Lucy Does a TV Commercial” made the world laugh with its key point, the commercial itself. Vitameatavegamin was a health tonic which promoted a series of different benefits by a spoonful after every meal. However, a drink that is 23% alcohol is anything but healthy. The laughs of the collective audience, cast members, and behind cameras crew, were enough to turn the prop bottle into an artefact.
“This little bottle” turned into a perpetually full. The content was what the faux commercial promoted; vitamins, meat, vegetables and minerals, but also the alcohol. The drink did everything it promised, but also made the user utterly drunk for moments at a time.
The recovery of the artefact itself wasn’t problematic at all. To be honest, it was one of the easiest retrievals we’d done in the history of this institution. It was bought in 1963 among a series of artefacts from all over tinsel town. The depiction of the object simply made us stamping the label of “Handle with Care” at the transportation lead box as was protocol. Nothing difficult to do either, since the artefact never left sight of the members of the team; a precaution made necessary after the fiasco of the Fiestaware Artefact in 1962.
And after the bottle came here things weren’t different or unusual with it. It was stored in its proper place, and left there so the Research team could figure out what it was about it that made it special. Was the power of laughter? The ability of Lucille Ball to own a scene? Was Mrs. Ball a witch? I have answer to none of those questions, that is the point of the Research Department.
The thing went from the guy who sold it to the four members of the retrieval team, from them to the people in the Acquisition Department here in TNRB, from them to Maintenance to be put in its place, to Security for the spells it needed, and from there it had to stay for fourteen years until some noted the crack on the glass. I know a lot of us were heavily distracted due to the death of John F. Kennedy, but it is still no reason for about fifty people to not notice when an artefact is no longer one.
Since it had been so long since the arrival of the object, we have no idea if the thing came broken, therefore probably transforming some poor soul into a Vessel, or if it broke here or on its way here. In the latter two, its energy probably attached itself to another object in the Base. If that were the case, the combing of the place that we are doing now should make it surface.
Update as of 1986: We found where the energy is. To everyone who spent years looking, thank you. And to the person who is no more, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say about this artefact, except that is now the fifth in recorded history to not being an artefact anymore. For further information, I recommend visiting the special addition made in the “Important” section of the Archives, marked as “The Problem of the Vessels”.
Ariel Bonheur, Chief Archivist.
Note to the Overseer
Rutgers,
I swear to all the gods I know, if you dare to touch this report I’ll cut your hands off before resigning. That said, I hope we can meet for coffee this week; tell your assistant to call me.
Ariel Bonheur.
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