"State your name."

The teens awaited a response…

"Scoobert Doo."

"State your owner's name."

"Daphne Blake."

"What company does she co-own?"

"Mystery Incorporated."

Fred and Shaggy still could barely believe the dog could speak. It was like a Saturday morning cartoon come to life. Dollar signs were all Fred could see, that and the yacht he was going to buy to impress porn stars. He could not suppress his jubilation, grinning like an idiot. Shaggy was still thoroughly disturbed by the dog's fluent English. According to his aunt, talking animals was the work of the devil, hence why he was not allowed to watch Looney Toons when he stayed at her house.

"What breed of dog are you?" the young man continued his questioning.

"Great Dane."

"How much is six-thousand-seven-hundred and fifty-three times forty-two point two?"

"The approximate number of people that your mother has slept with…"

"He's brilliant!" Fred proclaimed. "Dog food companies will pay us billions…"

Daphne looked up from her iPad. "You're not selling my Scooby to a dog food company."

"Not selling… leasing…"

"No."

"You won't know about it anyway…" Fred mumbled.

Scooby pushed passed Fred after giving an exasperated sigh. He padded over to his master and snuggled up to the teenager, nuzzling her bare leg. Daph went on reading her digital magazine but allowed her hand to run along the pooch's back, paying particular attention to the area just above his tail.

"Hey, check the email while you're online, Daph."

"Okay."

Shaggy leant back, watching Law and Order: SVU on the redhead's television. "So, uh… when was the last time someone heard from Velma? She's kinda' gone AWOL."

"No. She hasn't spoken to any of us," said Daphne as she accessed the Mystery Inc. email inbox.

"Can you blame her?" Shaggy asked. "I mean, she's been through a lot. I can't imagine what kind of mental state she's in."

Staring at the dirty-blonde, Fred laughed, "Don't worry, guys, Velm-Velm will be fine. She's tougher than the lot of us… We should just give her space."

"You're probably right."

"I am right."

Daphne jumped up out of her seat, startling a Scooby that had just laid his head down to rest. "Sweet fanciful goblin tits!" she screamed.

"Daph, you gotta' start makin' sense or we won't be able to defend your good name when people call you a crazy bitch," Shaggy said.

"Guys, guys, guys! I just checked the email!"

"And…?"

"We have five pending requests!"

Blinking his eyes in thought, Fred shook his head and said, "Bullshit. You must be lookin' at old emails. There's not enough crime in this town to justify five people contacting a little agency like ours."

"That's 'cause they aren't in this city. All these requests are from out of state!"

It took several moments for the weight of the thin, pale girl's statement to sink in. When it finally did, Fred and Shaggy slowly began to rise from their mostly complacent lounging. "Did you say out of state? H-how is that even possible?" asked Shaggy, still having trouble comprehending her words.

"I don't fucking know!"

"I thought the company was supposed to be local?" Scooby said through a heavy yawn.

"It is. We haven't done any advertising. either. That's why this doesn't make sense…" Fred thought, catching the tablet that was thrown in his direction.

"Check 'em out for yourself."

He began reading the emails aloud, reciting what the senders had written, and their particular needs for the teenager's services. Virginia, South Carolina, even as far up the country as New York. The young man could read them over and over, trying to make sure that the information was correct, that he hadn't misread or mistook words. It was all there, and these people were paying large, reasonable sums, not pocket change. Some requests were from business owners, others from those in political office. It was a laundry-list of names and numbers, many of which blew Fred's mind.

"This is insane…" he mumbled. "I… I can't even…" The blonde's speech seemed to be stuck in perpetual stutter.

A firm smack to the back of the head is the only thing that fixed his impediment. "Fred. We've gotta' check these jobs out," Shaggy said. "We'd be fucking stupid not to!"

"Hold your horses, hombre. Finding a way back and forth between these places and home won't be easy." Daphne thumbed her chin. "If we drive, it's going to kill us on gas. Flying is out of the question… The commute won't be worth the reward."

Disappointed, Fred admitted, "Daph's got a point…"

He tossed the iPad onto the bed and sank back down into his seat, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. Fred had already begun counting the money that was going to come from those enormous pay checks. Frustration was the only feeling in him now, frustration with nothing to take it out on. The entire room was silent, all three of the teens equally disappointed with their circumstance.

Scooby raised his head, sniffed and asked, "Why don't we take this show on the road?"

"What do you mean, Scooby?" Daphne questioned.

"I mean, what if we just did the jobs and didn't worry about commuting back to North Carolina?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Shaggy argued, "But we live here…"

"Well, you've got a decision to make."

No one knew what to say. The next few moments were a series of quick glances between silent contemplation. Scooby looked around, noticing the nervous and worrisome expressions that everyone wore, as if he had just said something personal or crossed a line. He laid his head down and allowed them time to think, not really caring what their ultimate decision was.

Shaggy was the first to stand. "I say we go. Fuck it."

Sighing, Daphne joined him. "Yeah. What've we got to lose? Other than everything, I mean."

"Sweet. Let's do it, then," Fred said.

"Are you sure, Fred? It's two to one. We don't wanna' peer-pressure you into this…" Daphne said.

"Red, there's nothing here for me. My dad hates me, and I can't honestly say I feel any differently about him, mom's exploring the world and every well-muscled young European musician/artist she can find. I'd be glad to get outta' this city."

"Wait, what about Velm?"

"We'll have to ask and see what she says… If we can find her, that is."

A Schecter Blackjack SLS Avenger FRS. The crown jewel of Medley Music, the guitar was a five-thousand six-hundred dollar lead machine, transparent blue body with a black fret-board and a blue mahogany neck. It was one of the more expensive instruments on display at the store, and frequently, the center of Kaitlyn's attention when she and Velma would visit. The guitar shop was a regular stop when the two would hang out, and the employees knew both of them by name.

Now Velma was there alone, staring blankly at the guitar hanging from the wall. She was lost in her own world, drowning in a sea of thoughts that she couldn't control the course of. She had no idea why she wandered into the music store, whether it was for sentimental, nostalgic reasons, or because she broke a violin string the previous night that needed replacement, but here she was, standing in the one place that, in her mind, was synonymous with her former best friend.

Velma was so lost in her own mind that she had not noticed the Medley employee at her side. He had apparently been trying to get her attention during her space-out.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Clearing her throat, Velma nodded and said, "Y-yeah. I'm fine. Just a little… off today."

"You and your friend doing a little window shopping again?"

"… No. Not this time."

"Oh, you're here by yourself? That's a first." The man smiled.

One of the other employees called out to him, and the man responded with a nod. "Uh, I've gotta' go help bring in some amps, but let one of us know if you need anything, alright?"

"Sure," Velma said sadly.

The man turned to leave, but looked back to the teen and stated, "You know you can take that thing down and give it a whirl if you want?"

Blowing by him, Velma moved for the exit, saying, "I should go…"

She felt her eyes welling up again. It had only been a few days since Kaitlyn rode out of town, off to tour the country with the rest of the Hex Girls. She left Velma in emotional ruins and didn't even look back. The teen was conflicted on almost every level; glad she was gone, but upset she lost a friend; wanting to tell the authorities of this master thief's identity, but feeling obligated to keep Kaitlyn's secret.

Velma sat alone at the bus stop, quietly crying into the palms of her hands. Vibrating in her left pocket caught the young woman's attention and she attempted to compose herself before answering the phone. Sniffling and whipping her puffy, red eyes, she swiped her finger across the screen.

"Yeah?" she whimpered, voice cracking.

Fred's distinct low tone came to her on the other end. "Hey, Velm-Velm."

She gave herself a slap to try and shake off the residual sadness in her voice and asked, "What's up, Fred?"

"Company meeting. It's big."

"How big?" she sniffled again, interest suddenly piqued.

"Double-D big, darling. Triceratops big."

"Really? Now you've got me all excited… Where do you wanna' meet up?"

A large familiar van, sporting a brand new paint job, was brought to a gentle stop at the curb. Blue, green, orange; Mystery Inc's company vehicle looked like a bag of Skittles on wheels, making Velma wonder just why Shaggy allowed Daph to decide the color of the van when he was getting it painted. Mystery Machine was painted on the right side in cursive letters, with abstract tangerine flowers surrounding the words. A smiling blonde, cell phone pressed to his ear, leaned out the passenger side window.

"Get in. We've got candy."

The teen hung up her phone and walked around the back of the van. Opening the doors, she was pounced, pushed down to the asphalt by a pair of large paws. "Scooby, get off!" she pleaded with laughter.

After getting his fill of licks, the dog did as he was asked and dismounted, allowing the brunette to slowly return to her feet.

"I think he missed you," said Shaggy, still scrolling through the company's email on Daph's tablet.

"Obviously."

Velma and Scooby clambered up into the back of the van with Shaggy and the teen took a seat beside him. There, he began to explain their current predicament, and the options set before the quartet, the choices that now had to be made. Scrunching her nose and squinting her eyes, the girl listened to everything she was told intently without interrupting. She didn't say a word, until Shaggy was finished.

The Mystery Machine stopped at a McDonalds and Fred opened his door. "What do you guys want?" he asked.

"Fish sandwich," said Daphne, fiddling with the radio's knob. "And chicken nuggets for Scoob."

"Big Mac!" Shaggy hollered from the back, having to raise his voice as the redhead found Paramore's Emergency on the local alt-rock station and cranked it up.

Daphne thrashed her crimson mane about wildly, singing along with Haley Williams' lyrics. She was not one afraid to express her unconditional love for the punk-pop band, or their lead singer, who was her main inspiration for dying her hair. Every word to every song was etched into her memory from frequent listening, one of the things she had in common with Velma. She looked back to see if the brunette was singing as well, and was a little sad to see her just staring off into space. It'd been a bad two weeks for Velma, and this revelation probably wasn't helping…

"Wow…" the brunette whispered.

"What're ya' thinking, Velm?" asked Daphne.

The girl looked legitimately stumped, for the first time in her young life. She shrugged her shoulders, and said, "I don't know…"

Daphne sighed lightly, looked to Shaggy who also looked as if he didn't know what to say and turned back to the wheel. Fred opened the passenger door, white bags with a single yellow letter on them in hand and hopped in. "I bring goodies!" As he distributed the food throughout the van, the blonde noticed the solemn expressions his friends and business partners wore. "What's going on? Velma make her decision?"

Daphne shook her head.

"Alright, then…"

Fred turned in his seat, tossed a burger and box of nuggets to Shaggy and Scooby respectfully and looked to the brainy girl. "Look, Velm. It doesn't matter what your decision is. We're your friends, we're with you. You've gotten us out of a lot of jams, and let's face it, this companies' success wouldn't exist without you. Just tell us what you're thinking. If you wanna' stay…"

"No! No… I'm okay. I-I think we should do it."

Shaggy put a hand on her shoulder. "If you're not sure-"

"I'm sure. I'm sure. We leave."

Fred didn't question her again. She might've sounded unsure and uncertain, but there was determination in those brown bespectacled eyes, determination that he couldn't deny. She extended a fist, holding it outward she stared into the blonde, awaiting his hand. He smiled and placed his fist atop hers. Theirs was soon joined by Shaggy's, then Daphne's. A brown paw was then placed atop the stack of hands, and the symbol of camaraderie was complete.

"Then it's settled. We're hitting the road…"

Daphne's mother cried loudly. Her father stood on the other side of her closed bedroom door, shouting at the top of his lungs in a rage, throwing expletives indiscriminately. He banged on the white door repeatedly, questioning his daughter's judgment and angrily pleading for her to change her mind. She ignored them both and continued to pack her bags in silence, refusing to second-guess herself, to allow them to get in her head. This was not an act of defiance, as was normal for the young woman. Daphne thought hard about it, weighing her options, and couldn't let Mystery Inc. go, not without her. It was just as much her baby as Shaggy's, and Fred's, and Velma's.

Zipping her second bag shut, the redhead put it aside and sighed. She looked to her ever faithful companion and best friend. "I can't believe I'm actually going through with this…" she admitted, putting her hand on her forehead.

"Having second thoughts already? We haven't even walked out the door yet, Daphne. Wait 'til then to start crying…" the dog said mockingly in an attempt to bring his owner a little cheer.

"You can't tell me you won't miss being here, Scoob. This is where we first met!"

"I'll miss the food," said Scooby, licking his nose and turning over onto his back. "There is nothing closer to heaven than A-Aron's cheese steaks..."

"Ohmigod, I remember when you first had one of those! It blew your friggin' mind."

"It was … amazing."

"We get some to go, if you want. There's no telling how long we'll be on the road."

She was still sad. No matter what she said about her parents, what names she called them, Daphne loved them. A lot. Leaving was not easy, not for her, but it was something she needed to do. Daph took a knee beside her beloved Great Dane and caressed his belly, eliciting a pleasured groan.

"Do… you think we're going to be alright? On our own?"

"Of course, Daphne. You'll be surrounded by friends and loved ones, right?"

The redhead was silent for a few moments, and smiled. "Yeah… Yeah! You're right, Scooby!"

"Aren't I always?"

The honking of a loud horn could be heard outside the large manor. Looking out the window, Daphne saw the Mystery Machine waiting at the street, with Shaggy sitting patiently in the driver's seat. Waving to him, she showed her index finger, telling him to wait a moment.

"Time to get going," she said to her loyal canine. Picking her bags up, the young woman moved to the door and gave the knob a turn. It did not budge, as she suspected. Smiling, Daphne screamed, "Locking the door won't do a thing, daddy!"

She moved back to the window, showing Shaggy her index finger for a second time and curled it back toward herself. The stoner raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was asking what he thought she was asking. Nodding slowly in affirmation, Daphne's smile grew wider. Throwing the stick-shift into drive, he slammed on the accelerator, pulling off, but turned and jumped the curb. The tires tore the perfectly attended green grass beneath them to shreds as it rocketed toward the Blake household. Shaggy brought the van to a stop directly beneath the young woman's second story window and looked up to her.

"It's now or never, red," he said. "Just land lightly, please!"

Shaggy flinched as her bags came crashing down on the roof of his vehicle, trying to ignore the pain he was feeling for his baby. Daphne then jumped from her bedroom window, with no hesitation or regard for her own safety, and landed atop the van with a heavy impact that Shaggy was sure dented his roof.

"You alright up there, Daph?" he asked out the window.

A groan was the only response. She rolled from atop the vehicle, hitting the ground with a thud and a second, quieter groan. It took a while, but Daphne returned to her feet and climbed into the passenger side. "I'm fine…" she said.

Scooby jumped into the vehicle as well. This gave Shaggy pause as he wondered just how the hound exited the abode without using his van as a steel cushion. "Scooby-"

"Doggy door…"

Silence, just as Fred expected. He stood there, cigarette burning in his lips, giving her as much time as she needed for the information to sink. Right from the get-go, he knew his father would be ecstatic to hear that his son was finally leaving the house, but Miranda would be a little less enthused. The blonde woman seemed to be on the other side of the world, with a soulless set of eyes. Fred placed a cigarette between her lips as well, and fired it up.

Finally she looked at him as she remembered just where she was. "Why…?"

Fred sighed. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but Miranda caught him packing. His plan was to vanish, leaving nothing but a note atop the woman's laptop, but for once, she had a day off and was home. The teen had no choice but to explain why he was putting all of his belongings away. "Because. I feel like I need to do this."

"Is it because of-"

"It has nothing to do with you, Miranda."

"Then is it about your father?" she asked, finally acknowledging the cigarette in her mouth and taking a drag. "Can't you at least try and work things out?"

Shaking his head, Fred stated, "I've tried for nearly eighteen years. I'm done making attempts at getting along with that man."

"And there's no changing your mind…?"

"Nope," he smiled. "See why I wanted to leave without you finding out?"

Miranda wrapped an arm around Fred's neck and pulled him close. He felt a little bad, leaving right when their relationship was beginning to improve, when they were starting to understand each other a little better. It wouldn't surprise him if Miranda felt he was giving up on her as well as his father, when in reality she was about the only thing that made him consider staying, the only pro that stood against the cons of remaining in his hometown.

"I'm sorry, Mir… I gotta' go…"

"Don't apologize," she said, holding him even closer. "This is probably for the best…"

"Think so?"

Nodding, she leaned into him. "Just make sure that you visit."

"Don't worry," he said, turning to her with a bright smile. "I'll be back."

"You'd better," Miranda said, touching her forehead to his. "It'd be kinda' wrong to leave your big sister and never come back."

"I'll be back, Mir… Don't cry. I hate it when girls cry."

The van sat outside the Dinkley residence, awaiting her departure. She was still inside, presumably breaking the news to her family. Velma's house was their last stop before hitting the highway, off to the first of their out of state contracts. There was a combination of anxiety and excitement in the air, sorrow along with jubilation and celebration – to say they were conflicted was an understatement. But no one faltered in their resolve to continue on, to make Mystery Inc. the biggest thing since Jesus, and then The Beatles.

He passed the Tupperware containing his mother's butter cookies back to the others and said, "Here. My mom wanted me to share with you assholes."

Each taking one from the clear plastic box, they tried the light brown pastries. The content moans that escaped their lips brought a smile to Shaggy's lips. "Sweet fanciful goblin tits! These things are like little oblong orgasms! Your mom should put these shits in, like, fucking sex toy stores or something!" She reached back into the Tupperware, retrieving two more cookies, one for herself, another for Scooby. Tossing the snack into the air, the hound expertly caught it in his mouth.

"These are good. Almost as good as those steak treats…"

Fred laughed but nodded in agreement. "Dude. She's right. Your mom would kick Bobby Flay's ass, and then he'd probably lie down on a set of train tracks, having been humiliated by a hippie who was probably high during the battle."

"She thought you'd like 'em. Be careful, though, they'll make you fat as shit. Like, comically fat. Jabba The Hut, dropping people into the rancor pit, holding princesses hostage in provocative armored bathing suits fat. Fat Bastard get in my belly fat."

Gesturing to something imaginary, cheeks stuffed full of butter-filled heaven, Daphne asked, "Y'see this? It's where I'd put a fuck… if I gave one."

"Speaking of your mom, Shag," Fred started, taking a moment to swallow the cookie, "how did she take the news?"

"What news?"

Scoffing, the redheaded Daphne said, "Randy Orton winning the championship belt, of course… Leaving, Shaggy! How did she take your leaving?"

"As well as I expected," said Shaggy softly, glancing at the dreamcatcher that now hung from his rearview mirror, a going away present for him. The moon sat behind the fabric spider webbing, casting a strange shadow onto the young man's face as he looked upon it. A smile spread across his lips and he sighed. "Both my parents were cool with it. They both left home at my age, so they were not opposed."

"My dad was happy, too. For very different reasons, though."

"Wow. Wish my folks took it that well. They're probably just now figuring out I left. The Blakes are a notoriously dense family…"

"So that's where you get it from?"

"Yup. I get my looks from my mom and my hardheadedness from my dad," Daphne smiled.

"You got a sexy mom, by the way, Daph," said Fred. "I saw her sunbathing when I was at your house last week."

Sighing as she helped herself to another cookie, the pale-skinned girl shamefully asked, "Was she at least wearing a bikini…?"

"Does… does she not sometimes…?"

"She usually doesn't, Fred."

The disappointment in the blonde's expression was reminiscent of a child in a toy store told by a parent that he couldn't have an action figure. Daphne thought he was about to throw a tantrum. "Son of a bitch…" he stated, accentuating every word. "Are her… Are they…"

"Yes, they're real. She's never had implants put in."

Fred nearly jumped up out of his seat. "Shaggy, you've got to take me to the Blake residence!"

"Dude, no. Did you not see all those damned big-game heads hanging from his wall? He's like the Jeffrey Dahmer of the animal kingdom! He kills harmless, puppy-dog-eyed creatures indiscriminately! What makes you think he won't blast both of us with a shotgun and claim self defense?"

"Shag, I think you're overreacting."

"I dunno' about that, Fredrick…" Daphne said grimly. "My dad did go out hunting with a buddy of his named Bill this one time… It was the strangest thing… Bill never came back…"

Both Shaggy and Fred stared at the young woman, looking for any signs of deceit. She was completely straight-faced.

"Don't worry, she's joking," Scooby said before questions were asked, just as Daphne started to crack up.

Cackling like a hyena, Daphne said, "I'm sorry, but I had to do it. You guys made the Dick Cheney thing a little too easy."

The van's passenger door suddenly swung open, causing Shaggy to jump and shriek in a high-pitched, shrill voice. Velma stared at him, dumbfounded by the slightly less than masculine expression. Any further efforts to regain man-points were ignored. Velma climbed into the vehicle, the old leather squeaking under her as she eased into the seat, clutching at the bag in her arms. Her eyes were puffy as if she had been crying.

"You alright, Velm?"

A loud knocking at Shaggy's window caused him to jump and squealed again. He turned, half-expecting to see the zombie version of Jeffrey Dahmer standing there, leering into the van. It was Velma's mother instead. The woman was almost an exact copy of their brunette friend, except for a head of slightly longer brown hair. She gestured for Shaggy to roll the window down.

As the glass descended into the door, she leaned in and quickly said, "Jones."

Fred, a little scared raised his hand. "I'm back here, Ms. Dinkley…"

"Step out of the van for a second."

Fred glanced over to Velma, who blatantly avoided his gaze. Swallowing, he complied and took a step out of the vehicle. His wrist was tightly grabbed by the woman and he was pulled a few feet away from the van. The brunette woman turned to him. "Listen to me. My daughters are all I have. I might not have been the very best mother, but I've tried to do right by my girls. Understand?"

Fred nodded.

"Good. Now, I can't protect my Velma if she's six hundred miles away. I want you to watch out for her, take care of her, make sure no harm comes to her. If anything does happen to her, I'm coming after you, and you better believe I'll find you so there's no need in hiding. I'm serious, I will fucking hunt you like a dog. I will Liam Neeson your ass, got it?"

Fred nodded again.

The woman gave a smile, one equally frightening as it was comforting. "Don't worry. You've got my blessing; just keep my girl safe, alright?" She kissed the blonde's forehead, turned him, and shoved him toward the van. "Now get going! There's work to be done! Mysteries to solve!"

"Not a thing will happen to Velma under my watch, Ms. Dinkley!" Fred swore. "I give you my word!" Hopping back into the van, the young man kicked the back of Shaggy's seat and commanded, "Start this bitch up, Norville!"

The van's engine stuttered and growled to life as Shaggy turned the key. He gave the gas a few revving strokes before pushing down on it, sending the vehicle rocketing up the street. Velma watched her mother in the mirror, standing in the street. She disappeared from view the further they got and eventually, the young woman shut her eyes, bidding her home a silent farewell.

They road in an uncomfortably quiet for a long while on the way to out of state, before Velma heard a familiar riff begin to whisper out the Mystery Machine's speakers, one that made her reach down and turn the radio up. Before the song's lyrics even came in, every member of the five-person group was bopping their head in unison to the electric guitar. Together, they sang Guns and Roses' Sweet Child o' Mine.

One Year Later

"You son of a bitch!"

"This is not my fault!" protested Fred.

"I swear, if we get out of this alive, I will kill you myself!" shouted Daphne.

"It's gonna' work!"

"If it doesn't, I will claim your balls, you rat bastard! I will cut them from your body with a dull blade and feed them to my dog!"

"You most certainly will not!"

Fred glanced back. The crazy bastard was still behind them, and keeping up. The mask he wore looked as though it was from the prop department of the set they were on, but painted a crude green and covered with bloody splatters. "Man that sick fuck is fast…" he muttered. "He's like Steve Smith… But trying to kill us…"

"And I wouldn't mind Steve Smith chasing me…" Daphne added. She gently bit her bottom lip. "I really wouldn't mind Joseph Gordon-Levitt…"

"This is not the time for your Gordon-Levitt fantasies! It's never gonna' happen, sweetheart!"

"Take that back or I'll trip you!"

Scooby made a hard left, turning down a dimly lit hallway, with Daphne and Fred on his heels. "Focus, please," he pleaded. "I refuse to die because of you two idiots."

Scrunching his face, Fred looked to the hound. "Scooby, I'm still wondering why you aren't mauling this guy to death… Your a dog, start acting like one!"

"I'll take this guy if you handle the next rabid, rabies infected dog we come across."

"Arguement retracted."

The trio had passed so many rooms in the fake mansion but Fred knew just where they were. Everything was going according to plan, and, if Velma and Shaggy did their job, his brilliant trap would've been set. They were approaching the large manor's living room, where a net rig was to be strategically placed, hanging above the center of the chamber. After drawing the psychopath out to the living room, the net was to be dropped on him. A perfect catch.

They rushed out into the living, room and Fred screamed, "Now!"

Just as the killer came chasing after them, he heard a shriek. "Wolverines!"

The man looked up just in time to see Shaggy falling from the chandelier, wearing a plastic wolf mask. He was the last thing the man saw before blacking out, and vice versa. Fred cringed when their target's head came in contact with the hard wood floor, bouncing off of it like a ball.

"Oh my god… Velma, you were supposed to use a net!"

The brunette emerged from her hiding place behind the suit of armor on display, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Yeah. Shaggy and I played rock-paper-scissors to see who would climb up to set the trap. He lost…"

"And apparently couldn't set the trap…" said Daphne.

The group gathered around the two bodies, and Fred delivered a gentle kick to his friend's, trying to see if he was alive.

"What did he scream on the way down?" asked Scooby.

"Wolverines. It's a movie thing, just forget it…" said Velma, dismissing the question with a wave. Looking up at the chandelier, the young woman crossed her arms over her chest, trying to warm up as the winter temperatures seemed to continue to drop. Shivering a bit, she deduced, "It looks like he slipped from the rig."

"You'd think watching so many movies, Shag would know his way around a set…" Fred said, observing their surroundings, an abandoned set for a television action-drama.

"Fuck you too…" groaned Shaggy as he pushed himself off of the man. "Man, this really isn't how I pictured waking up. I mean, I always knew I'd eventually wake up next to someone I didn't know with a headache, but never did I think the person would be a guy. And an ugly guy on top of that…"

They gathered around the man, and looked down at him. Donning a glove, Daphne reached down, retrieving the murder weapon from his grasp. The masked man's eyes fluttered open and he squirmed on the floor. "Where am I?" he muttered. "What happened?"

"Aw, what's wrong? Baby no feel good?" mocked Daphne.

"Cops are on their way, buddy…" Velma said. "You don't got much time left, so let's make this quick…" She reached down and slapped a pair of cuffs that she brought from a local adult entertainment store on his wrist. The other end was cuffed to the leg of the heavy sofa. "Your father owned the rights to Morning Springs, the show filmed here… He stopped filming because one of the workers died accidentally, and rumors started to spread that this set was haunted. That didn't sit well with you as the lead actor, did it? Mr. Crowley?

She pulled his mask off, revealing his face. Just as the brainy girl predicted, it was Joseph Crowley, the man that hired them.

Chuckling, Fred continued, "You killed him so you'd inherit all rights to show, and could continue filming. To throw suspicion from yourself, though, you hired a group of unknown and inexperienced investigators." Kneeling, he put on a mocking sneer. "That's where you fucked up, pal. You hired us." Crowley swatted at him with his free arm and Fred jumped back, laughing. All the man could see were the young detective's grinning faces.

"He's a fighter."

"He won't be in a sec. Mr. Crowley's about to take a nap."

Shaggy took a step back, leaned forward and kicked the man in the skull, knocking him right back out.

{That's all, boy's and girls. Thank you for the support; it's what helped me to finish this. I felt this a good point to end the story, but I've got a few ideas for short two-shot-ish fics within the same fiction, so if anyone would like them to become a reality, just PM me and I'll get to work on 'em. I'm also going to start working on a re-write of a previous fic, one in the Fallout universe. Keep an eye out for it if you're interested :D

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. I sure did.