Zoinks! Two years after a clash of egos forced Mystery Inc. to close its doors, Scooby-Doo and his clever crime-solving cohorts Fred Jones, Daphne Blake, Shaggy Rogers and Velma Dinkley are individually summoned to Spooky Island to investigate a ser...
On a farm out in Modesto, a blur of black races down a stretch of dirt road between a forage of trees, as it raced off to the barn. The blur turned out to be a jet black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T muscle car, with a 900bhp 5.7L V8 engine, chrome bumpers, and a black leather interior.
Braedey was at the wheel, but he was in a hurry. He was two years older, with the silver fringe on the side of his head now shaped like a lightning bolt. He was now wearing a black sleeveless shirt, blue jeans and black boots, but around his lower arms was bandages.
As he pulled up to the barn, he jumped out of the car. He walked into the barn, and walked to the large workbench on the far side of the barn, where there was something hidden under a tarpaulin. As Braedey pulled it off, it revealed what the object was. It was two almost futuristic designed prosthetic lower arms.
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"Finally. After two years of using scrapyard parts and buying parts with lunch money, they're done." Braedey looked at his left lower arm, then at the prosthetic. He sighed to himself, then gripped his left arm with his right hand, and clenching his teeth in pain, yanked his entire lower left arm clean off!!!
In a few seconds, he placed the organic arm down, and placed the prosthetic on. As it clicked into place of his elbow, he felt the nerves and the wiring start to connect and align themselves together, melding back together in a few short moments. He looked at his new arm, and mentally commanded his new hand to close. Within that command, he saw his hand close, then open. After a few moments of getting his new hand and arm back into full motion, he proceeded to do the same thing to his right.
In a few short minutes, Braedey had his new arms attached and ready for action. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his abilities. All of a sudden, Braedey heard the sounds of transforming and could feel his right arm shifting. He glanced down to see his lower right arm had transformed into a semicircular-shaped barrel with blue light gleaming through the seams. The brunette's grin grew larger as he eyed the weapon.
Braedey swung his arm around, took aim and fired. Two blue energy blasts struck two old tyres hanging on the wall nearby, and they fell to the ground, whilst smoking.
He shifted his blaster back into his arm and hand. "Pretty good shot there, as I do say so myself." He admitted, just before he heard someone knocking at the barn door.
"Excuse me." A male voice spoke out from behind the door. "I'm looking for a Mr. Braedey Martin, the detective?"
Braedey froze. "It sounds like someone wants me to solve yet another terrifying and monstrous mystery." With that, he looked at his organic hands, threw them away into a bin, and ran to the barn door.
As he forced one open, he saw what might be a Hawaiian male in a white shirt and pants with white shoes, holding a yellow letter in his hand at the left door. He looked rather out of place here at the farm.
"Oh. Hello." Braedey walked up to the man, but sat next to his car. "Listen, sir. I really wish to help you. You seem to be a really nice guy. But, I'm not a detective anymore."
"Oh. I've been sent by my employer, Mr. Emile Mondavarious." The man showed the letter, as Braedey looked at the name. "To invite you to his world-famous amusement park, Spooky Island."
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." Braedey stopped him there. "I'm sorry, but I do NOT go anywhere with the word 'spooky', 'haunted', 'forbidden' or 'creepy' in the name. OR 'hydrocolonic', but that's for a completely different reason." He then started to walk to the driver's side of the car.
"Mr. Mondavarious would like you to solve a mystery." The man explained. "He'll pay you a few of $10,000 American dollars."
Braedey thought about this. "Keep talking. What else does he got?" He asked.
"He'll provide you free airfare."
"Keep talking."
"Room and board."
"Keep talking."
"And...a lucky opportunity involving a group you know of all too well."
Braedey then realised who this man was talking about. He showed a little smile. "When does the next flight to Spooky Island leave?" He asked.
