There have been many mystery-solving groups brought together by the evil entity hidden under Crystal Cove. What if it had made different choices for this generation?
Mystery Reincorporated
"Let's go, gang. There's a mystery to solve!" said the smartest girl in the school.
The jock, the glamor gal, and the social misfit all followed her toward the door.
"Hey, Ethan, you're not missing soccer practice again, are you?" Gary called.
"Yes, he is," said Brenda. "He'd rather be solving mysteries with me... I mean us."
"Why don't you give the amateur detective work a rest for once?" said Gary's best friend, Fred. "It's bad for business."
"Because we're good at it," said Marcie, glaring at him. "Just because you're the Mayor's son doesn't mean you need to back all his ideas."
"It's about all they're good for," said the haughty redhead from a rich family standing nearby. "Right, Norville?"
"You said it, Daph," replied the tall, well-groomed teen beside her with his arm linked through hers. "They run around with that big smelly talking animal. What people see in pets is beyond me."
Marcie scowled. She loved her talking pet, and had raised it from when it was small, in the petting zoo of her father's amusement park.
"Animals are cool. Like, you're missing a lot in life, man," said the shaggy-haired member of the Mysteries Unlimited gang.
"Sure I am, Doogle," said Norville sarcastically.
"Like, I go by Wiggy now."
Marcie smiled. Ever since that elementary school play where he got to act as a hippie their friend had fallen in love with the role.
As they headed out the door a girl with auburn hair and glasses, wearing an orange turtleneck waved at her shyly. "Hi, Marcie."
"Hi Velma," said Marcie as they passed. She wished she had more time to get to know Velma better, but cases with the gang took up so much of her time lately...
"Everybody but you calls her Ectoplasm," said Brenda after they got out the door. "After the weird green stuff she gets on her from her parent's spook store."
"I like her," Marcie said. "She could be brilliant if she put her mind on science instead of all that spooky nonsense her mother puts into her head."
"At least they put up statues of all the monsters in our cases," Ethan said.
"Like, they pretend they were real ghosts, not crooks in costumes," said Wiggy.
"It's good for tourism. People don't like us to debunk mysteries. Even my dad doesn't," said Marcie. "He says it's bad for Creepy Spooky Terror Land."
"I don't care," said Brenda. "We're doing good by solving crimes, whether people like us or not. And the exercise is good for my figure. Right, Ethan?"
"I like the fighting with baseball bats," said Ethan absently, drawing a glare from Brenda.
They had reached the Monster Masher, a van that Marcie had specially altered to allow their animal mascot to stick out his long neck.
The giraffe bent down and nuzzled her hand. "Hi Marcie. Hi gang."
"Hi Mr. Bendy," said Marcie. "Ready for another case?"