Halloween Hits

Scooby Doo Where Are You

Erik meets the Mystery Squad.

Tags:
Alternate reality

I'm going back to the paragraph structure after this.

👻

"Raggy!"

"Scoob!"

Scooby jumped into Shaggy's quaking arms.

Shaggy was a skinny stoner yet somehow still able to catch a 70 lb great dane on a reflex.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline, he was white as the ghosts he saw on an almost daily basis.

Scrabbling in mid-air for five seconds, his panic finally drove him away from the threat in a flash.

"Red! Raphne!"

Scooby ran on his own four legs knocking down the blonde ascoted himbo.

He'd no time to dodge the large great dane barreling dead at him.

"Hey," Fred yelled trying to gather what the hell was this dog's issue now.

Had he run out of mustard for his hotdogs?

He'd only eaten about 75 for lunch.

"Scoob, what's goin on?"

"Rooaaaaasttt!"

Scooby was obviously shaken.

Despite the fact that most "roasts" were merely criminals in "rasks"..

"Aw Scoob, you probably just stumbled on an old sheet or something."

It was Fred's way to be dismissive but Daphne stepped in.

"Fred, maybe we should go check," she insisted using her ginger charm.

Fred had a thing for the ging and she knew it.

He was wrapped around her press-ons.

Scooby led the way with Shaggy not far behind him as Fred and Daphne escorted them back to the location where the ghost had appeared.

"Well, I don't see anything," Fred pointed out.

Indeed there was nothing.

"Hey," a voice called from above.

Up in a tree, sitting on a branch sat a man.

A black man.

They were all confused, never having seen a black man climb a tree.

They still hadn't seen it... Somehow he'd just gotten up there...

"Y'all are the Mystery Squad," he stated.

"Yeah man," Shaggy stepped forward no longer afraid.

"I thought so I used to watch this show all the--Uh--You know what, nevermind. I didn't mean to scare you guys, I'm kinda in a situation.. Maybe y'all can help?"

The four friends searched each other for any dissent.

It was fuck Velma, she'd catch up later if they ever ran into her again.

For all they knew she was crawling somewhere searching for her glasses.

Why she didn't keep them on a string or wear contacts they'd never know.

Maybe she just liked tooting that ass in the air with her skirt on.

She surely never wore a scort.

"We could give it a shot," Fred spoke for the group considering himself the leader.