That time Shaggy used 10% of his power

By Andrew Danger

Bill the Buyer gunned the engine, speeding away from the prim manor. Row upon row of trimmed dahlias collapsed together as he raced out the gate. Each turn and tuck down the winding path spilled more twinkling bullion from his smoking jalopy. He buzzed past the mystery gang, howling "What a clutz you are, Scooby-Dooooooooooooooo...!"

Fred darted up to the deserted mansion, but it was too late. At the second landing, he beheld the famous portrait in a tattered heap. The gang quickly joined up to assess the damage.

"Ruh-roh." whined Scooby.

Daphne patted his fuzzy head. "Aw, that must have been worth a fortune. It's okay, Scooby, we know it was an accident."

Velma stood for a second, flicking her fingers along an imaginary abacus. "Valuated at a high mark of 17 million USD," she assessed.

Fred sighed. "Not exactly a shiny penny now. What do we tell Gladys?"

Daphne tapped her feet. "And she'll be closing the bank soon, too. Where's Shaggy?"

"Speak of the me!" boomed a casual Shaggy, sauntering up the creaky stairs.

Daphne felt a sudden shock of static along Scooby's spine, a murmur of disquiet.

Shaggy croaked, "That painting looks kaput, more like a Picasso now, heh. Ah well, guess I'll have to make another."

With a soft "POP!" an oil reproduction appeared in midair to their bewildered faces.

"Whoopsie Daisy-" Fred managed to just catch the falling frame in his hands and lever it to rest on the dusty carpeted floor.

"Pee-yew, this smells like my uncle's toolshed!"

Daphne took hold of Fred's kerchief and lightly dabbed a corner of the new painting. "It's real. And it's still wet. What in the blazes?" Tap, tap.

Velma kept her distance from the newly manifested portrait, strangely dissimilar to the one Bill had purported to buy. It looked just like the original, only *newer*. She shook her head. "I don't, I just don't understand... How?"

The question hang in the air. Shaggy didn't seem to hear the girl, nor care.

"Time for one last trick, if you dare, slick. Ha! That rhymes."

Instead, Shaggy shook a morsel loose from the treat box. The gang waited, frozen while Shaggy toyed with the bit, spinning it around with one hand.

The treat began to expand and contract as it spun, contorting into a thousand minuscule dimensions. Fred met Velma's desperate gaze. Confusion turned to fear, then panic. Shaggy took his time strutting to the dog, and let a rude, high pitch cackle escape his crackled lips.

"Huh-HA!"

All this time was Scooby slumped in the corner, a coward to the end. His tail tucked to his gut.

"R-Raggy?"

"Man, you made me use like 10% of my power. Scooby, Stay."

Shaggy's eyes burned into Scooby's wooden face, daring the hound to move. Scooby stopped shaking. He gathered his courage, ears back in that ancient dominus pose. Scooby drew a long, hungry tooth and encircled his old pal, cutting him off from the rest of the gang.

The stoner's grim hand mercilessly teased the canine, darting the glowing crumb around his jaws.

"Huh-HA!"

Tap, tap, tap. Behind the pair, Daphne shifted to a fighting stance. She silently meditated, biding her time.

Fred looked back and forth at the sparks flying between the contenders. He started to inch his way down the hall. Beside him, Velma discretely dialed the phone in her pocket. One last desperate charge...

Suddenly, Scooby leapt at Shaggy, before he let the morsel in the air. Man and beast collided with a wet thump. They shook their compressed nostrils. The Scooby snack completed a lazy loop-de-loop, powdering into the carpet.

Velma guffawed and unclenched her phone.

"Are you two lummoxes done quite yet?"

"A-HA-HA-HA! Come 'ere, Scoob!"

Shaggy opened his arms wide for the big dog to jump.

"Roh Roh Roh, Rot ro Runny, Raggy!"

Shaggy honked his nose, unflattening it.

"Reah, reah. Rats rore rike rit."

And Scooby hopped up.

"Jenkies, Shaggy! How did you manage a level nine summoning?"

Fred borrowed the treat box from a yawning Shaggy.

"Oh him? He's an elemental. Here, boy!"