Mystery Inc.
The Zombies of Coolsville
"It's mass carnage here in downtown Coolsville, folks." stammered a distressed looking news reporter. "I can't even begin to describe the horrific acts I'm witnessing."
He vomited out the side of the helicopter.
Down below a pale looking man was doused with stomach acid and a half digested taco bell quesadilla. He didn't seem to mind though as he was so fixated on tearing the flesh away from an elderly gentleman.
"Jesus, help me!" screamed the bloody old man as the zombie bit into his left jugular vein.
At that moment the zombie and the old man's heads exploded as a nearby sheriff unloaded a shotgun blast upon them.
"Why did you kill the old man too? You could have saved him!" shouted a nearby deputy.
"Once they're infected there's no way to cure them." said the sheriff with 20 years of authority under his beer belly.
"This isn't some fucking zombie movie, we don't even know if they're zombies!"
"I'd rather not take the chance." retorted the sheriff as he delivered another shotgun blow to the dome of an approaching zombie.
The rest of the force moved into downtown and eliminated the threat in a frenzy of bullets. Police began taping off a large area, as now, over a hundred corpses lay strewn about the city. Onlookers peered out from apartment windows at a bloody scene you would only read about in a horror story. As the area was becoming fully secured, the first detectives arrived on the scene. Two young men and a dog approached the pot-bellied sheriff.
"Oh great. It's you guys." snorted Sheriff Stone.
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Fred.
"You know damn well what the fuck that is supposed to mean."
Scooby Doo howled. Neither Shaggy nor Fred responded, because they did, in fact, know what the fuck that was supposed to mean.
"Anyways, we have the body count at 103, with 11 victims."
"There were 92 attackers?" asked Fred bewildered.
"We've also identified many of the attackers, and after notifying family members we've been able to confirm they were all together at a meeting earlier today." stated Sheriff Stone whimsically. "We haven't confirmed for all attackers, but we suspect it's the same."
"Like, do we know who organized this meeting?" asked Shaggy.
Scooby lets out a low bark.
"We do... He was actually one of the attackers we've identified so far."
"Was he the leader of a cult? Was this some kind of terrorist meeting?" asked Fred.
"It was... a meeting for timeshares." said Stone rather slowly. "Mr. Cashbux was a well known business owner around here. I almost went to the meeting myself, but I couldn't get the time off work. It's crazy to think I could have been..."
The sheriff's voice trailed off as he began watching Shaggy wander around to nearby corpses. Shaggy lit up a joint and took a huge rip as he started poking and prodding around the dead zombies.
"This is no time to be getting high!" exclaimed Fred, exasperated at his friend once again.
"It like, helps me think, man..." mumbled Shaggy as he and Scooby sniffed a zombie's mouth, then armpit.
"I still don't know why you're in this line of work if you have to bring your emotional support animal with you everyday." laughed Sheriff Stone.
"I've told you, I only registered him as a support animal so I could bring him with me everywhere. Scooby is invaluable to helping me solve crimes. His input has helped me out more times than I can remember."
"Yeah. well, what's he saying about this crime?" retorted Stone.
Shaggy blew a cloud of marijuana smoke in the sheriff's face, and knelt down next to Scooby Doo.
"What do you think, Scoobs?" asked Shaggy as he patted his doggos head.
"Woof woof. Bow wow."
"Zoinks! It's like, so obvious." exclaimed Shaggy. "It only makes sense when you think about it."
"Well what is it?" inquired Sheriff Stone.
"Zombies."
"Are you kidding me? That's obvious!" shouted Stone. "Do you want to elaborate or is that it?"
"Drugs." stated Shaggy.
"I'm getting transferred after we solve this case. I can't stand you." said the Sheriff angrily. "What do you mean by drugs? Like some kind of T-Virus?"
"This isn't a video game, Sheriff."
"Surely, you're joking, Shaggy. There can't really be zombies. Can there?" asked Fred.
"Of course not, Freddy. You know as well as I do that zombies are theoretically impossible!" laughed Shaggy.
"That's true. There's no way to animate a dead corpse, especially a rotting one."
Fred looked around and examined a corpse for himself.
"What is this? Make up? Dirt?" asked Fred.
"Like, indeed" said Shaggy. "They decorated themselves to look like the walking dead."
"Why on earth would they do that?" asked the Sheriff.