"Hey, John?" Dr. Collingwood sat down next to the tall, thin SCP.

"Hm?"

"Do you... like anything in particular?"

John stared off, his eyes not focusing on anything. "I... don't really know. I doubt it's worth mentioning anyways."

She shook her head. "John, you really need to stop treating yourself like this. You do matter, even if everyone else doesn't think so. Even if the entire world were to hate you, I wouldn't. Besides, we're off topic."

John rubbed his temples, trying to remember what he liked doing. The hundreds of years of depression he'd suffered had sucked all the joy out of his life, including his hobbies, to the point where he wasn't even sure what they were anymore.

"Well... I guess I like reading..."

"Hey, I do too! What kind of books do you like?"

"Well... I've read Don Quixote, Pride and Prejudice, the Sherlock Holmes books, Sense and Sensibility..."

"Wait, wasn't Don Quixote in Spanish?"

"Molly, I've been alive for as long as humanity itself has existed. Do you really think English is the only language I know?"

The two friends talked and talked and talked for a long while, discussing works of literature both classic and modern.

John chuckled. "I guess we're both book nerds then."

Dr. Collingwood grinned. "It's not that bad."

Finally John gathered the courage to ask the one question he wasn't sure he wanted to ask, but really wanted to see the reaction to.

"What's the worst book you've ever read?"

Her cheerful, chipper disposition immediately dropped. She slowly pulled a book with a poorly-illustrated cover out of her bag. On it was the title "Empress Theresa".

"This," she said in a deadly growl, "this," she flipped through all the pages, "THIS is my NIGHTMARE!"

John would look back on that day with both fondness and fear.

*Lesson of the day: Don't. Piss. Off. Nice. People.