Author's note. I forgot to mention this earlier, but this story is told by way of keeping journals, by Shaggy and Velma. Shaggy is told to keep the journal to pass the time, and Velma is doing it to moniter Shaggy's healing.

Date: May fifth, 2010

What a picture perfect day it is. So what am I doing in my bed? Well, that's simple: My leg is broken, so I can't get out of bed, although I REALLY want to. My butt is killing me, and I haven't even been here an hour. Well, I might as well tell you how I got in this mess.

It began after the last day of school, at the annual Crystal Cove Clam Derby. A race that features hairpin turns, breakneck speeds just to avoid falling behind, narrow tracks, and other means of danger. The race works like this: A team of two drive color coded go-karts. The first team member drives the first half of the course, while trying to stay in the lead and avoid crashing into other racers, and hand the baton to the second member, who finishes the race. The winner would get a prize worth all the danger: Two thousand dollars cash, and for a whole year, your team would eat free at the Clam Shack. It was an offer too good for Scooby and I to pass up, and perhaps we should have. Just getting in required a fifty dollar entry fee, and you had to sign a waiver, because of how high the risk of injury and even death was.

I was driving as fast as I could in my yellow go-kart, and my knees were right near my face, as the kart was designed for someone a lot shorter. I was making good time, and the yellow baton was in my hand tightly. I had Scooby in my view, and he was rapidly getting closer. A man on the side of the field waved a green flag to indicate to the other team members that the batons were approaching quickly. Scooby extended his arm behind him, his paw outstretched. I should have realized that passing a baton at upwards of fifty miles an hour is much easier said than done. Picture it as trying to thread a needle going over fifty miles an hour, because that's what it is; You only get one chance, and failure can be painful. Boy did I find that out the hard way.

Time seemed to slow down, and my brain was telling me something was horribly wrong, and after looking down, I found out what it was: My seatbelt wasn't on. I still haven't figured out why I didn't think to put it on. I knew it was too late to fix it, as doing so would mean letting go of the baton and the steering wheel. I would have crashed, and been disqualified from the race for failing to give the dog the bone, well baton. But all was not lost; if I could just get the baton into Scooby's paw, it would mean I could stop, put it on, and go back to the start as protocol. That plan failed at the sound of a loud pop; my tire had blown out. Now I could forget steering and the race, it was all about trying to control the go-kart.

But the go-kart was out of my hands now, it was going to do whatever it wanted. Apparently it wanted to crash full force into Scooby's go-kart. Remember how I said I wasn't wearing a seatbelt? Well that played up here. I was launched from my go-kart like a cannonball. And remember how I said the go-kart was made for someone smaller? That played up too, as my left leg did not fully come out.

Thus, I came out and bent my knee a little too hard; I knew it was bad when I heard a crunch, and felt the instant agony. I heard a collective gasp from the stands, but I hit my head and was knocked out. Get this, I was wearing a helmet. I woke up in the hospital what seemed like a minute later, and found I was surrounded. Fred, Daphne, Velma, and a doctor were standing over me.

"Shaggy," said Daphne, and all seemed relieved that I was awake, "thank goodness. You've been out for four hours." Suddenly, something clicked.

"Like where is Scooby Doo?" I asked, and by the looks on Velma and Daphne's faces, the news wasn't good. Fred told me the last thing I wanted to here.

"Oh he got it worse than you did," he said, "all his bones are broken, he's at the animal hospital." Velma face palmed and Daphne punched Fred's arm. I tried to get up, but the doctor didn't let me.

"You're head's fine," he said, "but we can't say the same about your leg." I looked, and my left leg was in a cast that covered the whole thing. The only things sticking out were my toes. The doctor put on a face that told all was not well. "The break is a serious one, it's going to take a long time for you to heal, son."

"Like, how long?" I asked.

"In my professional opinion," said the doctor, "roughly half a month, or a whole month." Before I had time to be surprised, a nurse came in.

"Doctor," she said, "Norville's parents are here." My Mom and Dad came in, and they did not look happy. My mom began to chew me out, before saying they were going to have to cancel their couple's retreat they'd been looking forward to for weeks now. I saw something in Velma's face, and she spoke up.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers," she said, "I can take care of Shaggy."

"But Velma," said Fred, "I thought you had that family vacation."

"I've been to Haunted Harry's Haunted Hallow ten thousand times," she said dryly, "and I got enough of it for a lifetime at age seven." The way she said it, it almost sounded like a memory she didn't want to remember. Velma pulled out her cell phone and called her parents, telling them the news. I could hear her mother's voice. She seemed to be objecting to her daughter staying behind, but Velma managed to win the argument.

So here I am, on my bed. Sorry that I was rushing through that last bit there, but I'm very tired from today and just need to rest for a while. So I'll close here.

First chapter done. Hope to have more out later.