Scooby-Dooby (7)

Happy Halloween!

That’s a lot of smoke!

Shaggy felt downright warm and groovy as he lit another hot dog sized blunt in the back of the mystery machine, his third of the night. Strange bluish-white clouds billowed out of the now rolled down windows while Velma sat in the passenger’s seat with her arms crossed.

“You know gang, I have an exam to study for. It’s already 12:30 am: I need to get home. But instead I’m stuck in this hot van with those goofballs in the back messing around and you two getting all…comfortable with each other.”

Daphne and Fred momentarily paused their vacant stares into each other’s eyes and turned to the right side of the van. Fred spoke up first:

“Don’t worry Velma, we’re almost done here. As soon as we see that old man Giffins makes it home ok we’ll scoot out of here quick, I promise. In the meantime why don’t you go back there and tell Shaggy and Scooby to ease up a little bit; there’s no way I’m stopping for food on the way back!”

Fred leaned forward and gave her a reassuring smile while placing his hand on Daphne’s thigh. Velma shuddered, ever so slightly. Daphne appeared to be affected from the drifting clouds; her eyes became glazed donuts as she stared out into the thickening fog surrounding the Giffins mansion.

Velma climbed into the back of the van as Shaggy passed the blunt over to Scooby. Scooby clumsily grabbed it with a mustard stained paw and took a 10 second drag, his eyes wide and strained from oxygen deprivation. As soon as he was done Velma grabbed it from him and tossed it out the window. At this Shaggy first noticed Velma:

“Oh hey there Velma, old buddy old pal. Why’d you have to do that? We’re just gettin’ our groove on back here.” Velma assumed her most frustrated look before her sharp reply: “Shaggy, you know I don’t like that stuff. It’s bad for your brain development and your lungs and it really doesn’t help us solve any mysteries. Not to mention it’s illegal!”

As if these last words conjured a presence, Fred noticed headlights approaching through the fog. Daphne, her eyes blazed and glazed with paranoia, shouted: “It’s the police!” Fred squinted through the fog trying to make out the vehicle.

“Daphne don’t be so paranoid, it’s probably just old man Giffins — oh no you’re right, it’s a police cruiser! Shaggy! Scooby! Open the back doors and let some of that smoke out!” Shaggy and Scooby nodded apathetically as Velma climbed over them and pushed the doors open.

As smoke streamed out of the mystery machine, the police cruiser pulled up and out stepped a heavyset officer with an angry mustache that only law enforcement could pull off. He walked over to the driver’s side of the mystery machine and peered in with his flashlight.

“Hi kids, what are we up to tonight?” Fred gave an innocent smile while Daphne avoided eye contact.

Velma shouted from the back, “We were just starting on our way home officer. We’re all getting a little tired.”

Daphne and Fred nodded in agreement. The mustached policeman seemed content with this, but suddenly loud crunching noises emanated from the back of the van; Shaggy and Scooby were eating tower-sized baloney sandwiches. Fred closed his eyes and sighed while the inquisitive officer walked around to the back of the van. He shined his light in the back and amazedly watched Shaggy and Scooby devour sandwiches that were at least 2–3 feet high. His trained nostrils immediately picked up the overpowering scent of strong marijuana, and he ordered everyone out of the van.

“Okay kids, don’t think I’m some kind of square, but I’ve got a job to do. If you just have a joint or two, that’s fine. But if you have a good bit…well that changes things.”

Shaggy and Scooby gulped but started chuckling softly. The cop searched through the van as the gang exchanged harsh whispers and Shaggy and Scooby struggled to contain their crescendoing laughter. The policeman stepped out of the van and cockily approached the gang with nearly a pound of Mary Jane wrapped in Plastic. Fred slapped his forehead and Velma looked sick. Daphne stared at the moon and Shaggy and Scooby finally lost it and rolled on the ground laughing. The mustachioed officer looked down at Shaggy and Scooby in disgust.

“You kids think this is funny? This is a dangerous drug you have here. I don’t care how cool or groovy you think you are!”

His eye twitched in apparent anger, causing Fred’s forlorn expression to change.

“Wait a minute gang!”, Fred exclaimed, “Look at his eye. Something is wrong here. He’s a not a policeman at all! He’s not even a man!”

Velma saw it too, and the policeman started backing away with his hand on his gun.

“I don’t know what you kids are talking about, or how much of this stuff you’ve smoked, but you need to stop this crazy talk.”

Fred slowly stepped toward him with a reassuring smile, and at the last second possible, he rushed the cop. There was a struggle at first, but the rest of the gang jumped in and helped out. Even Scooby jumped in, putting the dog in dog pile! The officer’s angry mustache twitched and spat out all kinds of threats and lawful declarations, but he couldn’t move an inch as the whole gang was holding him down. Fred sat on his shoulder blades and grabbed his head:

“Here gang, watch this! His head will come right off!” Fred began turning his head and neck, over and over, while the policeman howled and begged for mercy.

Finally, his head did come right off, and inside there was an assortment of wires and short-circuited electronics. Daphne and Velma gasped and stated in unison: “He’s a robot!”

Fred grimly looked down at the twitching body and put his hands on his hips: “Yes he is, but why was he coming after us? And where in the world is old man Giffins?”

They all looked around in the bewildering fog, and after a quiet minute or two they glimpsed movement in the back seat of the police cruiser. They ran over and opened the door to the back seat. Old man Giffins sat in the back seat with some kind of a remote control.

Old man Giffins?!”, they declared.

Daphne leaned in with an accusatory pointed finger. “Why are you trying to bust us? We’re trying to help you out!”

He threw down his robot remote control in distress and angrily replied, “I only enlisted your help so I could bust you. If I could bust you with all that stuff, the police would be too distracted with you all to suspect me for the disappearance of lady Giffins. I have her locked in a secret basement beneath the mansion, you see. And I could have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you dumb, dope obsessed kids, and your stupid, mangy, stoner mutt!”

At this Scooby blurted out “Scooby-doobie doo!!!” and gave old Giffins a big lick on the face.

“NO you big furry oaf, I hate you! What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so happy all the time?! Do you even have a brain? You ruined everything!”

Fred stepped in before he could continue: “Can it old man Giffins, we’re taking you and your robot friend straight down to the station!”

Scooby barked in agreement while Shaggy happily remembered the beef jerky strips in his pants pocket. Fred then pointed to Shaggy and Scooby.

“But first, you two are getting a good wash. I can’t have you going into the police station smelling like that.” They looked down in disappointment and groaned, “Ahhhhhhhh mannnnnnnn.”

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