On a highway that wound along the edge of a cliff, a young boy found himself being pulled over by a highway patrol officer. Thick fog hung in the air, adding an eerie yet beautiful quality to the natural surroundings. The officer dismounted from his bike and approached the car where the young man sat, rolling down the window.
"Do you realize you were speeding?" the officer inquired, his eyes concealed behind shiny glasses.
The young man gulped nervously. "Yes, officer. I do understand," he stammered, trying to convey his respect.
The officer's stern expression softened. "Alright. As long as you're aware."
Suddenly, a cloud of smoke and the rumble of thunder heralded the approach of a massive truck, hurtling past the two of them at a high speed. The officer sprang into action, swiftly mounting his bike to pursue the truck.
"Pull over!" the officer bellowed, overtaking the truck. As he drew level with it, he noticed that the vehicle was adorned with ghostly paint stripes, shrouded in an air of mystery. "Um, excuse me!" the officer called out, striving to conceal any hint of fear in his voice.
Abruptly, the truck swerved behind the officer's bike, unveiling its sinister intentions. It let out a deafening honk, emitting a pulsing, ominous noise. The officer revved his bike, attempting to accelerate, but the truck surged forward, ramming into the back of his vehicle and propelling the officer over the cliff's edge.
The bike shattered as it tumbled down the steep incline. Miraculously, the officer managed to evade serious harm by grasping onto a sturdy branch and hauling himself to safety. As he clambered back up, he witnessed the truck continue along the road before vanishing into the dense fog.
Ethan POV:
I received a summons to city hall, and Fred had also been called in, which typically signalled trouble. Fred had arranged for the gang to join us, for which I was thankful since politics wasn't really my thing.
"Thanks for coming, guys," I said, nodding in appreciation.
Fred grinned. "Yeah, it's never a good sign when our dad wants to see us at his office."
Shaggy made a casual hand gesture. "No worries."
Velma rested her hand on my shoulder. "I'll always have your back, blondie," she said, then turned to Fred. "Too bad Daphne couldn't make it. She'd definitely want to be here for you if she could."
Our dad emerged from the mayor's office. "Ah, my boys," he said, placing his hand on mine and Fred's shoulders. "Today is an important day for you, as you'll be learning about the family business--politics."
"Politics? That's grown-up stuff. You know kids my age are into setting traps and solving mysteries," Fred responded, a grin spreading across his face.
Dad looked at him in disbelief. "No, they're not."
"What he means, Dad, is that we're not really interested in politics," I interjected, stepping in to rescue Fred from a potential scolding.
Dad adjusted his glasses. "No, you both are going to learn about all the important things I do for this community."
"All you do is create pamphlets and strategize about trivial matters," I remarked sarcastically.
Dad shot a glare in my direction. "Strategizing about new locations for parking meters is very important."
I overheard Velma whisper, "I know a perfect spot for another parking meter." I couldn't help but smirk at her sarcastic remark.
Fred and I exchanged a glance and reluctantly agreed. "Fine. What do you need us to do?" Fred asked, his curiosity tinged with displeasure.
Dad's demeanour shifted. "Help me secure re-election as mayor," he said, producing one of his campaign pamphlets. "I need 40,000 copies of this campaign pamphlet made."
I gazed at the pamphlet and shook my head. "I'm really not looking forward to this," I muttered, feeling discontent about the whole situation.
Scooby grabbed the pamphlet and attempted to use the copier, but in his eagerness, he ended up pressing the wrong buttons, causing the copier to overload and explode, spraying ink everywhere. I quickly ducked to avoid being splattered with ink.
"Look what you've done to my new suit," a voice exclaimed. I turned to see a man in a green suit with black hair streaked with grey, attempting to wipe the ink off his clothing.
Shaggy nervously stepped forward. "Vote for Fred. SR?" he asked, holding up the pamphlet.
"What's going on here, Avocados?" Dad asked as he approached the man.
"That's Avoc-ados," the man corrected, enunciating his name in a posh manner. "And if you want to run a dirty campaign, Jones's, two can play at that game," he threatened angrily before storming off.
"Wow, Dad, who was that?" Fred asked, intrigued by the man's unexpected appearance.
Dad adjusted his glasses. "That was George Avocadoes, the person I'm up against in the election. He believes he's a strong candidate because his father, Theodore Avocados, once held the position of mayor."
He went on, "That is until he was caught stealing a priceless diamond from Crystal Cove Bank."
"Jinkies. What happened next?" Velma inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"The diamond was never recovered, but Theodore was sent to prison," Dad explained, crossing his arms. "Since then, George has been steadfast in claiming his father's innocence."
I sat in the back of the Mystery Machine, engrossed in my book, when Fred persuaded Daphne to join us. There was something mysterious about George, especially considering the information about his father.
"We really missed you today, Daph," Fred said, smiling. "Is everything okay at home?"
Daphne replied, "Yeah, everything's fine. Why do you ask?" Her voice sounded anxious and uneasy, as if she were concealing something.
Shaggy, rubbing his stomach hungrily, changed the subject. "Man, after all that campaigning, I can't wait to tuck into a triple clam pizza at the Clam Cabin."
Scooby, sporting a red scarf and holding a fork and knife in his paws, chimed in, "Yeah, I'm with you, Raggy."
At that moment, my stomach growled loudly, indicating my hunger. "Yeah, I could definitely go for some food," I admitted.
As we arrived at the beach, Fred parked the Mystery Machine in the Clam Cabin's parking lot, and the sounds of seagulls filled the air. I opened the back doors, hopped out of the van, and began walking toward the Clam Cabin.
Scooby wasted no time and dashed over to the door, only to discover that the Clam Cabin's entrance had been tampered with – the doorknob was missing. The owner, Skipper Shelton, appeared at the window and informed us that someone had stolen the doorknob.
With the Clam Cabin off-limits, we would have to find another place to eat. Later in the evening, as darkness settled in along with a thick fog, an unsettling feeling gnawed at my gut.
"I heard that someone stole all the crystal doorknobs at school," Daphne mentioned, hinting at a possible connection.
Velma chimed in, adding, "My parents mentioned that some were missing at the haunted museum, too."
"That's too much of a coincidence," I remarked, sensing a link between the three incidents.
Suddenly, a loud horn blared, grabbing everyone's attention, and before we knew it, the van was struck by a truck. I tumbled to the floor as the backdoors swung open, providing a view of the menacing truck. It roared toward us with its wheels engulfed in flames, and its front covered in tattered material that trailed to the back of the rig.
The truck's front bumper was built to plough through other vehicles, and its dual exhaust pipes resembled sinister, two-pronged forks. Its eerie, ghost-like appearance was the result of a deliberately crafted paint job, designed to strike fear into anyone who crossed its path.
"Fred! Step on it!" I urged, feeling a surge of terror as the truck bore down on us.
As Fred steered the van down a narrow path, the relentless truck continued its pursuit. In a desperate attempt to fend off the menacing vehicle, I grabbed a nearby book and hurled it in the truck's direction. However, the sudden movement caused the van to lurch violently, nearly tipping over the edge of the cliff.
Reacting swiftly, I slammed my elbow against the side of the van, ensuring it teetered back onto the road. But the truck, undeterred, accelerated and rammed into the van's rear, jolting me backward as I collided with the divider.
The truck struck the van once more, causing it to swerve off course, and we began hurtling down the cliffside. Amidst the chaos and screams, Velma's voice cut through, "Guys, we're not falling anymore."
Fred looked back and asked, "Ethan, you wanna take the wheel?"
I gave him a thumbs up and replied, "Yeah, I do," before switching places with Fred. As I did, I found myself seated next to Velma, which made me slightly flustered until the sound of a familiar honk brought me back to the task at hand.
The truck emerged from a thick cloud of fog, and I nervously maneuvered, driving the vehicle up a portion of the cliff and then speeding off, using the front mirror to gauge its proximity.
I shifted gears and pressed harder on the pedal, accelerating as we entered a tunnel, the truck's lights casting an eerie glow. It attempted to collide with the van, but I deftly swerved, emerging from the tunnel's end.
I skilfully steered to the side of the road, allowing the truck to pass by, its headlights disappearing into the dense fog. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I hoped that would be the last we'd see of it tonight.
As Sheriff Stone arrived to take our statement, Scooby eagerly began to explain what had happened. However, the sheriff seemed to completely disregard our concerns, instead focusing on the potential of the incident as a new tourist attraction.
"Hey, where's Fred?" Daphne asked, her expression filled with concern.
Suddenly, Fred's voice came from behind us. "Over here. I think I found something," he declared, gazing at the road. "Daphne, can I borrow your camera phone?"
Daphne quickly reached into her pocket, retrieved her phone, and handed it to Fred. He took a picture and then turned to show us the screen. "Yup. The phone's low-res camera brightened the contrast," he explained. "Do you see what I see, gang?"
We all gathered around to look at the phone, and simultaneously, I exclaimed, "Tire tracks," just as the others did.
"What kind of ghost truck leaves tire tracks?" Shaggy asked, clearly confused.
Velma interjected, adding, "And don't forget about the bunch of missing crystal doorknobs."
"It's definitely a strange mystery we've got on our hands," I replied, scratching my chin thoughtfully.
Velma touched my arm and said, "Nice driving, Blondie. Where'd you learn that?"
I let out a small chuckle. "Oh, I dabble in a lot of things in my spare time," I said, winking at her and offering a bright smile. Despite the evident tension between Velma and myself, she seemed preoccupied with her secret relationship with Shaggy. I knew I had to bite my tongue and set aside my feelings.
Velma POV:
At City Hall, our group was shocked to discover that all the crystal doorknobs had been taken by the thief. "Check it out. The doorknobs are missing here, too," Fred remarked as he observed the mayor's door. I couldn't help but wonder who could be behind this.
"Typical," came the voice of George Avocados from behind us. "I assure you there will be no shortage of doorknobs when I'm elected."
Ethan, clearly annoyed, retorted, "Very cocky for a man whose father disgraced the position of mayor."
I noticed the anger building in Avocados' eyes as he prepared to respond until he caught Ethan balling up his fists, ready for confrontation. "Missing doorknobs mean angry voters," Avocados declared as he walked off, laughing.
I reached out and touched Ethan's shoulder. "Hey, calm down," I reassured him. He sighed and began to relax, cracking a smile.
Shaggy shivered a bit. "That Avocados guy gives me the creeps," he admitted.
"Creeps?" Scooby retorted, shaking and shivering. "Creeps!" He leaped into Shaggy's arms. "Where's the creeps?"
Shaggy held onto Scooby. "Calm down, Scooby-Doo. It's just, like, a figure of speech," he tried to reassure him.
I cautiously looked at Avocados walking away down the hall. "I don't know, maybe Scooby's onto something," I mused.
Ethan POV:
After Fred had set up a trap at City Hall, I spotted George Avocados leaving the building, and the gang and I decided to tail him. He was highly suspected of being the mysterious Ghost Truck driver and the doorknob thief.
As Velma fiddled with her gadgets, she announced, "Satellite trackers all set," before activating her tracker goggles. "There's Avocados straight ahead. You'd think a villain would have a less embarrassing ride."
I chuckled and gestured to the van. "I wouldn't expect your typical hero to be driving a van named 'The Mystery Machine,'" I teased, lightening the mood.
Velma turned to look at me. "Oh, but I could stare at you for hours, blondie," she joked, her eyes hinting at a playful flirtation.
Shaggy broke up the conversation, noticing Avocados driving into a cloud of smoke. "Um, like, there's some heavy soup up ahead, and we're all out of spoons," he remarked, using his own analogies to describe the thick cloud of smoke.
Fred switched the headlights to high beam, causing the fog to clear. He slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision with the Ghost Truck, which appeared to be idly waiting without any signs of life.
"Ahh! Ghost Truck!" Scooby shouted, clearly scared.
Velma looked back at them and said, "Before you go all code brown, think."
"It hasn't spotted us yet, so we're in the clear for now," I reassured, as I opened the back doors to go out and investigate.
The entire truck was artfully painted to appear ancient, but Velma keenly observed that the tires were practically new. This piqued Fred's curiosity, and he expressed a desire to catch a glimpse of the driver.
As Fred reached for the handle, the Ghost Truck suddenly roared to life, blaring its loud horn. I swiftly scrambled back into the van along with everyone else, and Fred put it into gear, driving off hastily with the truck in pursuit.
The truck vanished from view in the mirrors, and I let out a breath of relief, but then it reappeared hurtling straight at the van. "Reverse!" I shouted, and Fred promptly complied, shifting into reverse gear.
In a split-second decision, Fred turned off the headlights and veered into a hidden spot. He instructed us to remain quiet, and the Ghost Truck zoomed past, unaware of our location, eventually departing for the time being.
Fred suggested that we go to The Bloody Stake Restaurant to inform Daphne about our findings, knowing she was there on a date with a guy named Rung Ladderton. As Fred interrupted their conversation, Daphne immediately sprang up, expressing her eagerness to hear our news. It was clear that her date with Rung was not going well.
Attempting to join in, Rung raised a finger and introduced himself, but Fred, filled with excitement, quickly engaged him in conversation. "Hey, you must be Rung," Fred said enthusiastically. "Nice ascot! What's your neck size? Mine's a 16 1/2, but it can swell to a 19 in humid weather."
"I don't really see the point in this," I remarked, feeling indifferent about the ongoing conversation.
Rung appeared to disregard Fred and turned to Daphne, suggesting they return to their dinner.
Daphne, however, swiftly replied, "Sorry, Rung, but something more important has come up," as she retrieved her purse.
Seemingly annoyed, Rung grunted, stood up, and checked his pocket, realizing he had forgotten his wallet. "Yeah, forgot my wallet. Daphne?" he asked.
Daphne expressed frustration about having to pay, while Fred attempted to humour Rung, saying, "By the way, I'm a big fan of your product. A sturdy ladder is hard to find these days."
"Thanks," Rung agreed, his ego seemingly boosted. "And for your information, my neck's a 16 1/2, too. And yeah, sometimes it swells."
To my surprise, I witnessed Fred and Rung exchanging ascots, which was quite unexpected given how Fred always insists his ascot is lucky. I simply shook my head, knowing it was classic Fred, oblivious as ever. Meanwhile, Scooby finished off the remaining food and curiously poked at the menu.
"Yikes, what's this?" Scooby questioned, and as I checked, I discovered a letter from Mr. E, the mysterious helper, along with a disc.
Back in the Mystery Machine, I inserted the disc into the player, and after a brief pause, Mr. E's deep, mysterious voice filled the space. "Heh, heh, hehe! Greetings everyone," he began.
"If you want to solve the mystery, you need to follow the fog. Remember, Crystal can't open doors like a diamond," the message abruptly stopped, leaving us with a vague and uncertain clue.
Velma scratched her head. "That either means absolutely nothing, or it's a clue."
"But how can we be sure we can trust Mr. E?" Daphne questioned, her concern evident. "For all we know, he could be the Ghost Trucker."
The gang and I decided to heed Mr. E's advice and follow the fog, which led us to the same tire tracks we had encountered before. Strangely, they seemed to disappear beneath a wall, or did they?
Daphne and I cautiously investigated the small hole, only to be startled as a dozen bats suddenly flew out. Once they cleared, we discovered a lever hidden inside. I reached in and pulled it down, causing a rock trap to open. Fred and Velma swiftly worked together to place the pieces in the right holes.
As the mechanism unlocked, a secret passage was revealed. With our flashlights in hand, I led the gang inside, illuminating the cave's interior. Despite the ominous possibility of the Ghost Truck lurking within, the cave possessed a certain haunting beauty.
"Wow, this place is impressive," Velma remarked as she inspected the surroundings. She then whispered to Shaggy, "It could be our new secret hangout."
Shaggy seemed pleased. "Yeah, just me, you, and a couple thousand doorknobs."
Directly in front of us were thousands of diamond doorknobs, each varying in authenticity. Then, Daphne suddenly shouted, "Look at this!" She was clutching a very old and worn journal book.
"What is it, Daphne?" Velma asked, her curiosity piqued.
Daphne examined the journal. "It's some kind of journal," she said as she flipped open the pages. "Belonging to a guy named Theodore Avocados."
The name rang a bell, and Fred exclaimed, "Theodore Avocados? That's George's dad—the one who was arrested for diamond theft, even though the diamond was never found."
As Daphne delved further into the journal, she exclaimed, "Well, according to this, he really was the thief. The confession is right there in black and white."
Velma then chimed in, "Remember what Mr. E's note said?"
"'Crystal can't open doors like a diamond,'" I recalled, the note's significance dawning on me. "I think this mystery is starting to come together."
Suddenly, obnoxious thunder roared, signalling the arrival of the Ghost Truck. Without hesitation, I bolted out of the cave and leaped into the driver's seat of the Mystery Machine, firing up the engine.
As I floored the pedal, the pursuing truck crashed into our rear, sending the van spinning until it was facing the wrong direction. Quick to react, I shifted gears and maneuvered the van into reverse.
Driving in reverse proved to be a daunting task, requiring me to lean out of the window to navigate our path back to Crystal Cove. We passed under the town sign, causing the truck to smash it to pieces. With a swift turn of the wheel, I shifted back to forward gear and accelerated.
"Why won't this guy give up?" Shaggy's voice trembled with fear.
"It's because we're getting closer to the truth," I declared, pressing harder on the pedal to gain speed.
I surged onto a small platform, sending tables and chairs scattering as I veered onto the road. Despite my efforts to put distance between us and the Ghost Truck, it continued to close in rapidly. Ahead, I spotted a ramp.
"Screw it, hold on tight," I warned, heading straight for the ramp. We launched into the air, crashing onto a nearby roof and shattering tiles as we sped across it. It bought us just enough time to bounce off the truck's fender and accelerate away.
"What are we going to do?" Daphne's voice trembled with fear and concern.
I was at a loss until Fred placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "We need to lure it into one of my traps," he said.
His words sparked a realization. "The one at City Hall," I exclaimed, spinning the wheel and skidding around a corner. I floored it in the direction of City Hall, enticing the truck to follow. A smile crept across my face as I led the way.
As I raced into City Hall with the truck hot on our tail, I expertly maneuvered around the fountain while Fred directed Scooby to activate the trap. Hanging his head out the window, Scooby launched a Scooby snack at a rigged record player.
The trap sprang to life, and I skilfully led the truck on a chase, keeping it occupied as Fred pointed toward a specific staircase. With precision, I steered the van up the stairs as the truck followed, triggering the trap.
A mechanical flipper struck the truck, sending it careening backward until its front end teetered precariously above a tank containing a menacing shark. Bringing the van to a stop, I ushered everyone out, and as I surveyed the scene, a satisfied smile spread across my face. It was finally over.
"Pickled porcupines. What's going on here, Fred? Ethan?" Our dad's unexpected arrival late at night took us by surprise. "I was in my office working late when suddenly it sounded like some demonic force was tearing apart City Hall. Tell me it's true."
"It's even better, Dad. We caught the ghost trucker," Fred declared, pointing at the truck. "And he's none other than..."
Before Fred could finish, a cowardly voice interrupted with, "Let me out of here. Ahh!" It turned out to be Rung Ladderton.
Rung stood up, feigning shock. "Ooh, ahh, that's right. And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Peers."
Daphne gasped, "Of course. It all makes sense. Rung was using the ghost truck to smuggle doorknobs out of Crystal Cove so he could find Theodore Avocado's missing diamond."
"Avocado disguised the diamond as a doorknob," Fred stated, flipping through the journal. "That's why it was never found."
"You are correct, my little ascot-wearing friend," Rung said, stroking his chin quite arrogantly. "But that idiot Avocado didn't specify in his journal which crystal knob was really the diamond. So, I had to steal them all. And what better way than with a ghost truck to smuggle them out of town."
Velma chimed in, "We should have known. The other guy who bought the tires was G. Nurno Treddal, a name far too ridiculous to be real, because it's Rung Ladderton spelled backward."
"But Rung, you're rich. You've got everything—ladders, ascots. Why did you need a diamond?" Fred inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Rung's arms slouched. "I inherited a ladder company. We make the one product in the world that no one ever replaces. Ladders don't wear out like TVs or personal trainers over 40."
"No, they last, which is likely why your company is broke and on the brink of collapse," I sarcastically pointed out, crossing my arms.
Rung hung his head in shame. "Yeah, you're right. The company's broke."
Daphne boldly stepped forward, ripping the ascot Fred had given to Rung off. "I don't think you'll be needing this," she remarked with a touch of satisfaction.
As Rung tried to protest, I intervened with a firm punch to his face, and the officers swiftly took him away in handcuffs. With the ordeal finally over, Daphne placed Fred's ascot back around his neck where it belonged.
Later, our dad addressed a meeting, explaining the recent events and announcing the creation of a new department called Pizza Affairs. He appointed Scooby as the head of this office.
As the room buzzed with chatter, I stood there, smiling and sharing a knowing look with Velma and a heartfelt hug with Fred. It was a satisfying way to conclude the whole fiasco, and I couldn't wait to see what awaited us next.