A 17 year old boy was riding his skateboard through Mainstreet Square as it woke from its slumber. He was a whopping 6 foot 5", 180 pounds, even though it was hidden in his slim figure. He ollied onto the sidewalk, his shaggy, light brown hair bouncing, using the school zone pole to assist him in turning to the right direction. He swerved through the crowd of students, trudging like zombies. He jumped off of his board, ran over a bench while his board coasted underneath, and landed on it again. He pumped his way up the wheelchair ramp, and got off of his board. He walked into the school building, but tripped over his own feet. His skateboard went skidding across the lobby, as he landed on his face. He fixed his green over shirt and stood up, blushing like a fool. He looked at his tan pants while he walked toward his board, but was intercepted by a plump, elderly woman.
"I'll keep the board, Norville," she said, sternly. She had gray, shoulder length hair and mean, peircing eyes.
"Of course, Mrs. Jensen," said the boy, with a bit of attitude in his voice. She glared at him and turned around, taking the board with her. "There goes the worst resident of Coolsville." He walked cautiously to his locker, trying not to radiate any signs of his clumsiness. He thought to himself, why can't I be as coordinated as I am when I'm on the board? He got to his locker and put in his combination and tried to open it, but it was slightly jammed. He rolled up the sleeves of his white undershirt and pulled harder. The locker swung open, dropping a mountain of papers to the floor. Of course, there all had the same word, 'beatnick'. Everyone saw Coolsville, Ohio, as a good town, of which it was. All but the high school. All of the evil of childhood lived in the high schools all over the world. The boy shuddered and grabbed his chef's hat. First period was a cooking class, his favorite one. The bell rang and he hurried to class before the currents of students washed him away.
"Welcome class!," exclaimed Mrs. Black, "Today we will be having a test." The class groaned in unison, except for the boy, Norville. "Norville," Mrs. Black continued.
"Shaggy," he interrupted.
"Shaggy, sorry, please don't use all of the ingredients today. The school doesn't have major funding for this class, so we must be careful, dear."
"Of course," he beamed.
"The test will be to make a sandwich, of healthy ingredients, and present it to me. It will be graded on contents, organization and creativity. You may begin." Shaggy jumped out of his seat and grabbed an armful of vegetables of varying colors and dropped them on his table. He grabbed a foot-long sub's bread and went to work. He organized the vegetables by color and ended up with a literal rainbow of food, 5 inches high. He put on the top peice of bread, and pierced it with a toothpick, topping it with an olive. He put the sandwich on a clean plate and scribbled a name on an index card. "Ah, Shaggy, done first. As always," announced Mrs. Black. She looked at the index card. "A Super-Duper Shaggy Sandwich? Quite creative! It exceeds all requirements! A+!" Shaggy beamed as the bell rang. He started to leave but whipped around.
"Can't forget my lunch, can I?" He picked up the sandwich and ran to his English class.
Mr. Benson, a slightly hefty 30 year old man, wrote on his white board. 'Coolsville Museum Auction Article Assignment'. He turned around and started picking off last names, to organize the groups for the project. "Manson, Jackson, Benson and Johnson. Taylor, Crenshaw, Parks and Thompson. Parker, Matthews, Hopkins and Chase. Valdez, Martinez, Wong and Chan. Jones, Rogers, Blake and Dinkley. You may not change, drop or swap groups. No exceptions. For today, you will get with your groups and discuss what you will write about. You may continue." The class shuffled around. Shaggy sat at a table with his group. It was a gathering of the four major high school cliques. Jock, prep, nerd and outcast. He hated titles, but he couldn't help that these ones popped up. Fred Jones, football extraordinaire. His blonde hair was combed into a small pompadour, a smirk resting on his chiseled face while his blue eyes stared at Daphne Blake. She was pretty, but she didn't try to over do it. Her red hair was pulled into a ponytail so people could admire her green choker-like necklace. She wore a purple, long sleeved shirt and a white skirt that went to her mid-thighs. She was also wearing purple high-tops. She tried keeping her green eyes from meeting Fred's. Velma Dinkely sat in her chair, sort of slouching, as if not to be noticed. She was wearing and orange sweater that slightly clung to her average torso. She had on red skinny jeans as well as black shoes. Her eyes were slightly magnified by her thick glasses as she stared at the table. Shaggy noticed that her hair was recently done, and wanted to break the silence.
"So, like, where'd you get your hair done?," he asked. She jumped a bit and slightly emerged from her shell.
"At the Hair Palace in the Plaza." A small smile crept onto her face as she was engaged into conversation.
"I think I've passed that place before. Isn't that, like, right next to Crunchy Munchy?"
"Yes!"
"I've never really been in there, cause ya know," he pointed to his hair, "my mane can't be tamed." Velma giggled. Daphne noticed and broke in.
"You trim your beard though?"
"Well, yeah." Shaggy stroked the patch of hair on his chin.
"It's probably a hippy thing," Fred said, trying not to be left out. Shaggy recoiled a bit, and Fred smiled.
"Jones, no need to be a jerk," Daphne said, defending Shaggy.
"Yes, Fred, no need to give us evidence that not all apes went through evolution," Velma threw out. She stared at the football player as he glared at her. Daphne looked at Shaggy with sympathy. He looked at her and sighed. "Fred," he started,"we may not be of the same level of popularity, but there really isn't a reason to be so, like, cruel. I'm not a hippy, I'm a skater. I have feelings and what you said didn't really hurt me. I get picked on every day. Nasty names, cruel gestures and worse looks. What you said, is like one grain of sand on a beach. It's that insignificant." Fred looked as if he had been sucker punched.
"I'm sorry dude. I didn't know. I'm not really like that!" Velma scoffed. "It's just a charade. I guess my reputation kinda just kicked in."
"It's fine. Let's just discuss this project.," Shaggy suggested, swatting away the other conversation. They discussed the whole plan and agreed to walk to the museum directly after school. Something of which none of the other groups thought of, since the auction wasn't until 5 PM. The sound of the lunchbell tore through the school and all of the kids left, except for Shaggy and his group. They were still talking when Mr. Benson interrupted them.
"Class is over. Time for lunch." He gave the kids a stern look, and they got the message. They got into the hall and started to disperse when Shaggy spoke up.
"Hey! You guys wanna catch some grub over at the Malt Shop?"
"That 50's flashback diner?," asked Daphne.
"Yeah! Great burgers."
"Sorry, Shaggy, but I've got plans with the Cheer squad for lunch." She gave him and apologetic smile and waved goodbye. Shaggy half-heartedly looked to Fred, but he just shook his head and walked after Daphne.
"I'd be happy to go!," Velma chimed. Shaggy looked at her and smiled. He waved her along and they walked towards the main doors, and to the Malt Shop.
Velma sat parallel to Shaggy as he ate a sandwich he made in Healthy Cuisines. She sipped her Cherry Cola and hiccupped from the carbonation.
"Cherry Cola always does that to me," she said, blushing.
"Don't worry, it does it to me too," chuckled Shaggy. "Thanks for trying to help out last period."
"It was the least I could do. You are the only one, outside of my fellow Mathletes and Science Olympians, that actually talked to me. I felt like it was appropriate for me to help you."
"So, are you, like, not popular either?"
"Not at school. I do community work at the museum."
"Really? I bet that's fun."
"Actually, I'm just a tour guide for the education tours."
"Oh, but at least you get to, like, educate people."
"That's the whole point! I wanna be a teacher after I graduate. Well, I mean a college multi-purpose science proffesor, but relatively the same."
"Actually, I'm pretty sure that can put you on the throne of Teachery and stuff." They both laughed, and simultaneously realized a strong friendship was blooming.
"Do you do any community work?"
"Actually, I work down at the pet shelter. They've got this dog there, that I'm saving my money for. He's a one of a kind dog. Maybe we can bring him with us to the auction?"
"They'll let you do that?"
"Yeah! They let me put a down payment on him, so he's practically mine. Besides, I've got the last fifty bucks in my pocket."
"Wow! Adopting an animal is pretty cool."
"Think so? Just wait 'till you meet Scoob."
"Scoob?"
"It's, like, short for Scooby-Doo."
"Interesting name. Oh my gravity! What time is it!"
"About 12:30. Better head back for 3rd period," said Shaggy as he looked at his phone. They both got up and Shaggy left 10 bucks, that wasn't for Scooby, and left it on the bill, even though it was only $2.35. The two friends walked in the school with their backpacks shouldered, and gave each other their numbers so they could find each other after 5th period. Shaggy walked to P.E., anticipating what demeaning activity Mrs. Gruff would assign. Shaggy changed into some maroon shorts, took off his undershirt and replaced his green shirt. He thought he was the last one in the locker room, but was mistaken when a strong had grasped his shoulder in a friendly way. Shaggy turned around and saw the 6 foot Fred Jones, smiling at him. He jogged away in a white tanktop and blue shorts. The class was surrounding Mrs. Gruff when Shaggy walked out of the locker room, listening to her instructions. She was a very masculine woman, with boy-length blonde hair and a jutting mole on her chin.
"Listen up punks," she said in a deep voice, "Pick a partner and you can play one on one. Six hoops in here and six outside, twenty four kids here today, get splitting!" The kids did what they were told. Shaggy tried sneaking out of sight, but he didn't prevail. Fred pushed his way through his peers, while denying requests to be partners with people. He walked up to Shaggy.
"One on one, Rogers?"
"Sure," said Shaggy. He slightly strutted as he walked to the outside court, but his peers felt bad for him. They thought Fred was gonna humiliate the lanky teen, but they were wrong. He only had a one on one game in mind. Fred lead Shaggy outside and grabbed a basketball off of the racks that rested on the side of the building. It was a bright day, but it had the nice breeze that comes with Fall. Fred got in an athletic stance and waited for Shaggy, who nervously copied Fred's movement. They checked the ball and Fred started dribbling towards the hoop. Shaggy tried blocking, but Fred bounced the ball between his legs and made a shot.
"Zoinks! Like, nice shot!," exclaimed Shaggy.
"Zoinks?," questioned Fred.
"Oh, it's just, like, an exclamation."
"I see, well you're up." Fred checked the ball with Shaggy and returned to an athletic stance. Shaggy awkwardly dribbled the ball and shot a perfect three pointer from his spot. Fred stared in complete awe. "I never would have took you as a baller!"
"I'm not. I hate sports," chuckled Shaggy. He checked the ball with Fred. "It's probably your reputation thing, like, from earlier."
"Whoah, hold up! I told you that I didn't mean it. I kind of developed a defensive wall." Fred tried shooting a three pointer, but Shaggy blocked it and dribbled back to the checkpoint.
"You mean a 'jock spirit'." Shaggy dribbled forward and spun out of Fred's way, bouncing the ball on the ground, making another shot.
"C'mon dude! We were friends before-"
"But then you started sports and were corrupted by 'jock-i-tude'."
"I'm sorry Shaggy. It happens. When you stood up to me in English, it reminded me of how we used to be. Blaming everything on Red Herring and stuff like that."
"You blamed Red, not me. And if we are gonna be, like, friends again I'm not wasting my time hunting him down." Fred smiled and tossed the ball at the hoop, but again, Shaggy blocked it.
"Well, I'm sure we can make it work this time."
"Well, I was talking to Velma at lunch and we were planning on going to the pet shelter, so we can pick up my dog. Do you mind?"
"No! Not at all." The shower bell went off and Shaggy and Fred, with their rekindled friendship, ran to the showers.
Shaggy had Study Hall for 4th period. He sat down at a table in the library, and opened his book. It was a mystery/thriller story. It was kind of creepy, but it was interesting. The detective just walked into an abandoned manor, searching for the masked killer who murdered the mayor of the city. The detective walked upstairs, his gun at the ready, and entered the master bedroom. He walked passed the closet, without looking in it.
"Zoinks! Should have looked in the closet dude!," Shaggy whispered. The masked man walked out of the closet, stealthily, but made the floor creak. The detective whipped around, but saw nothing. He walked back towards the closet. Hands shot from underneath the bed and grabbed the detective. Shaggy jumped as he envisioned this scene in his mind. The bell rang and Shaggy screamed a murderous scream. He looked around and every pair of eyes in the library, were staring at him. He blushed and ran out of the library, towards his science class.
Mr. Hawkins stared at his class while they took their science test. He stroked his thin, graying beard as he darted his eys at every quick movement. Shaggy looked at Daphne, who was struggling on the majority of her test. He walked up to the front of the room and handed his paper in. "Like, I still can't beleive that copper is a good conductor of electricity Mr. Hawkins." Daphne scribbled this down while Mr. Hawkins looked confused. "And whoever said 'power equaled work divided by time' was a complete genius!"
"That's enough, Rogers," hissed Mr. Hawkins.
"Sorry. But you need to work on your multiple choice questions, I swear, it wa like, A, D, E, B, F, C, D, A, A, B, C, D. Predictable!" Mr. Hawkins turned pale as he realized what was happening, but he couldn't do anything about it. Daphne looked at Shaggy and mouthed the number '13'. He laughed and said, "And the thought of the Hanna-Barbera Solutions company was one of the leading sources of funding back in, like, '76." Daphne giggled and walked to the front of the room, handing in her test. Mr. Hawkins began to protest, but the dismissal bell rang and he shooed off his students. "Have a good weekened, kids," he shouted. "Thanks for helping with that test," Daphne said, walking with Shaggy to his locker.
"Like, no problemo. It was prettty brutal." Daphne nodded in agreement. "Hey do you, like, wanna go with Velma, Fred and I to pick up my dog, before we go to the auction mumbo jumbo thingy?"
"Sure! Let me text Fred to meet us here, at your locker!" Daphne pulled out her custom purple iPhone and started texting. Shaggy smiled and pulled out his old school flip phone and texted Velma. After about ten minutes, the four kids were walking downtown, to the Coolsville Pet Shelter.
"Hey there sugar," greeted a caramel skinned woman as Shaggy and his friends entered the shelter.
"Hey, Dolores!," Shaggy replied. "Today's the day." "Of course! Here's the rest of the money. Lemme go get him. Gang, stay right here." Shaggy paid Dolores and ran to the back of the shelter as his companions giggled at the word 'gang'. Shaggy walked through the doors that led to the animal kennels. This shelter wasn't like most shelters because the animals had half their kennel inside while the other was outside. They also had many toys for each animal, trying to make them feel more wanted. Shaggy saw one of the doctors carrying a blue-ish gray doberman to the surgery room, seeing as the shelter was also the only vet clinic in the small town.
"Crystal, what's up with Reggie?," pondered Shaggy.
"Lucky guy is getting his robotic transplants.," Crystal replied.
"Good, he'll be a top-notch guard dog again." Shaggy rubbed the dog's head and walked to one of the nearby kennels. "Scooby-Doo, where are you?"
"Rover rere Rhaggy!," shouted a brown Great Dane with a black patch on his back. "Well come here pal! Today's the day!," chuckled Shaggy. "Rippee!," Scooby ran over and put his front paws on the door to his kennel, "Ret's go! Ret's go!" Shaggy opened the door to the kennel and the dog tackled him to the ground, licking his face with great affection.
"Cut it out, Scoob!," Shaggy laughed. "Rorry, rhi'm rust rexcited!," claimed the dog, backing up.
"Before we go, I've got a present for you!," said Shaggy. He pulled out a blue collar with a yellow, diamond shaped tag on it. Inside the diamond, sat two yellow letters, 'S' and 'D' against a blue background. He placed it on his dog's neck and stood back, admiring it. Scooby's tail was wagging furiously as he and Shaggy walked out to the lobby, side by side. Velma and Daphne were melted by Scooby's adorable face and they pet him. Fred stood back and just smiled at the charming dog.
"What's your name boy?," asked Daphne.
"Rooby-Dooby-Dooo!," replied the dog. The teens jumped back as they heard his voice. Scooby's face contorted into confusion. "Ras it romething rhi raid?"
"Scooby, you're a dog. Dogs don't usually talk," explained Shaggy.
"Rell, rhi'm a Doo rand Doo's talk."
"Scooby-Doo, you're so adorable!," said Velma and Daphne, in unison. Fred had just been standing there admiring the gifted dog. "Hey, Dolores, before we head out, can I ask you a Q?," said Shaggy.
"Shoot, Shaggy.," she replied.
"Did you guys sign off on that Jellystone contract?"
"Yessiree bob. Gettin' that bear sent from Wyoming. That Smith fella says they's heard good things about us." Shaggy nodded and beckoned his friends and his dog, to the exit. They jogged all the way to the Coolsville Museum to meet up with Old Man Wickles, the museum curator. The man was around 53, but was in incredible health. He was gray, and balding on top. He had worry lines on his forehead and they were packed close together as Velma asked him questions.
"Mr. Wickles, what is one of your most treasured pieces that are in danger of being pulled out of your museum?"
"Well, Dinkley, my beloved Black Knight armor is up for auction, even the nobody heeds the warnings of," he looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening, "the curse." Shaggy and Scooby-Doo both gulped and looked at each other. Fred chuckled and rolled his eyes. Chickens, he thought.
"Oh, well what companies are you scared of right now?"
"Mostly Ravencroft Books. That guy has been buying many things from people."
"Could you be mentioning the company owned by the iconic horror author, Ben Ravencroft?"
"The one and only. That guy grinds my gears. Ah, five o'clock. sorry kids, but duty calls." Mr. Wickles got up and walked away, heading toward the stage set in the museum's courtyard. The kids ran after. Scooby-Doo started frolicing after them, feeling fancy.
"Welcome to the first ever museum auction held in our hometown, beautiful Coolsville!," started Wickles, forcing an obviously fake happy face. Velma wrote notes that covered the auction, including: quotes, offers, items and prices sold for. As well as the companies involved. Daphne and Fred sat next to eachother, looking rather uncomfortable, listening to the words being said. Shaggy sat with his hand on Scooby's head. The teens focused even more when Wickles' treasured Black Knight was on the auction stand. It was about 5' 9", and black as night. It had a red plume sticking out of it's helmet. Wickles' wiped his head with a pocket handkerchief , and spoke, "Can we begin the auction with 500?"
"1,500!," shouted a representitive of Ravencroft Books. The crowd gasped, as that was the highest offer that day. Wickles actually dropped his gavel and realized, on accident, that he sealed the deal.
"Congratulations," he whispered, into the microphone. The representitive jumped on stage, and wheeled the armor into a white van that said 'Ravencroft Books (Scream Your Heart Out)'. Wickles glared at the truck as it pulled away. Everyone dispersed, except for the four teens.
"I'm gonna take Scoob and head home you guys. But do you guys wanna, like, meet up tomorrow?," asked Shaggy.
"Why not? I'll type our report tonight and meet you at, uh?," said Velma.
"My house!," chimed Daphne, "I live right outside of town, on the main highway."
"Blake Manor," added Fred.
"Sure, that's, like, fine with me," said Shaggy. He said goodbye to his friends and walked away, with Scooby-Doo. Velma hugged Daphne, shook Fred's hand and left, after saying bye. "So, are you gonna stop by the shop and pick up your hippy dippy van?," asked Fred. He was talking about Daphne's inherited van, from her parents years in the 70's. "The Mystery Machine, and yes. Let's get going before it gets dark. " They started walking to the Jones Mechanics Shop, owned by Fred's dad. "I never got the name."
"My parents pondered a lot of things back then and wanted people to ponder as well. So they made the name for the van, painted it in orange letters, in that fancy green square. It kind of contrasted with the main blue paint job and made people stop and think about the mystery behind the Mystery Machine."
"Oh I get it now! And the flowers were just added for the sake of the 70's right?"
"Exactly." The two walked into the shop. Daphne got in her van and drove off when Fred opened the door. Fred waved and then went to the back door, and walking across the alley. Home sweet home, he thought, as he smelled warm apple pie.
Daphne took her hair out of the ponytail, so the breeze could flow through her hair. She drove passed the school and the Ravencroft truck, from the auction, pulled out of the parking lot of the Malt Shop. Daphne drove behind the truck on the main highway, but then it swerved and screeched to a stop right in front of her. She slamnmed on the Mystery Machine's breaks and sat in the van, staring at the still truck. She started to open the door, but the truck started rocking back and forth, violently. Then, a small explosion ripped a hole in the side of the truck and out jumped the Black Knight, shimmering with an eerie red glow, as if it were a ghost. It's plume was on fire and it had red glowing eyes resting in it's helmet. Daphne pulled out her iPhone and snapped pictures of the Black Knight Ghost.
The knight looked directly at Daphne and the air filled with a metallic echo of a laugh. The knight walked toward the Mystery Machine and then jumped into the air. It landed on top of the van with a 'thud'. Daphne screamed and slammed the gas pedal, speeding around the Ravencroft truck. She heard the knight fall off of the van as she turned into her driveway. She ran out of the van, into her mansion, up the grand staircase in the foyer and to her room. She sat on her bed petrified and cried herself to sleep.
Daphne woke up with dried tears caking her cheeks and her phone vibrating. She took it out of her pocket and read the text, 'Meet me at the museum, it is urgent-Velma'. Daphne noticed that the message was forwarded to Fred, Shaggy and herself. She got off of her bed and headed to her bathroom, for a nice warm shower.
Fred gave his mom a light kiss on the cheek, stole a sausage patty on toast, and started for the door, but was interrupted. "Freddy, dear," his mom called out, "it looks chilly out. Why don't you wear your sweater that Uncle Don bought you?" Fred sighed and pulled on the sweater resting by the door. It was white and had a blue stripe across the chest, which matched his jeans quite well. He had gotten the text from Velma about ten minutes ago and was pumped to have something to do. Nerds aren't really my usual crowd, but hey, who cares, he thought. He casually jogged about five blocks before he ended up at the museum. Velma was standing there, in an orange sweater and a red skirt, examining the doors of the museum. They both turned around when they heard the barking of a certain dog.
"Rhi rou guys! Rhat's up?," asked Scooby, sincerely concerned. Shaggy jogged to the courtyard and was out of breath, close to hyperventilating. Fred laughed and pointed to Velma. "Ask Velma." Velma walked over with a serious look on her face.
"I was driving home with my mom last night, after stopping at Wilson's Groceries and saw what seemed to be the Black Knight that Old Man Wickles auctioned off yesterday."
"Uh, Velma, I'm pretty sure you were hallucinating or something, because that thing was only armor." Velma glared at Fred as Daphne pulled up to the sidewalk next to the courtyard, in the Mystery Machine. She stepped out of the van, in a purple dress with a pale purple stripe across the waist. She had green stockings on as well as a green scarf, to match.
"Groovy ride!," Shaggy said, after finally regaining the ability to breathe. Daphne smiled weakly and handed her phone to Velma.
"Look at what happened to me last night! I was driving home and the truck stopped in front of me and that- that thing jumped out! It almost attacked me!," Daphne cried.
"Jinkies," exclaimed Velma, "Daph, I saw this guy walk into the museum last night!" Daphne's face flushed and she stumbled backwards. Shaggy and Fred caught her before she fell.
"You guys, that's not all. I found this by the Ravencroft van this morning." She reached into her purse and pulled out a scroll that faintly glowed red. Shaggy took it and red it aloud.
"You must heed the mark on the knight of dark. This haunting piece of history may help solve the mystery." Shaggy gulped, "Like, that's creepy." He set the scroll down and Scooby gasped.
"Rhaggy! Rou're rands are rowing red!," shouted Scooby, as he pointed with his paw. Shaggy lifted his hands to his face and gasped. It was true. His hands were glowing red. Velma looked closely and realized something important.
"Calm down guys," she began, "it's only reflective paint." Shaggy wiped his hands on his red shirt, and sure enough, he wasn't glowing anymore.
"So, does this mean that this Black Knight Ghost is a fake?," asked Fred.
"I think so, but we should ask Old Man Wickles. Maybe he'll have an answer." Velma started toward the doors of the museum. Her friends followed closely behind. They entered the building and in the center of the main room, was Old Man Wickles, polishing his Black Knight armor. He turned around and smiled at the children.
"My child has returned! Look at him! He was here when I walked in this morning. Ain't it a miracle?" Wickles turned around and finished, "Thanks to the Curse." "That's precisely why we're here, sir.," said Fred. "We were wondering what the Curse of the Black Knight is." Automatically, the Black Knight's stand glew to life and an audio recording played.
"The Curse of the Black Knight Ghost is simple children. The Knight belongs in Coolsville Museum, for this was the area of his death. He is bonded here and if he were to be moved, he would return from the dead and find his way back." The recording had stopped and the kids were looking at eachother. Shaggy was the first to speak up.
"Zoinks! It seems that we may have, like, a mystery." Velma sparked a magnificent idea at the sound of that. She hurried her friends out of the museum and into Daphne's van. Daphne refused to drive, so she tossed her keys to Fred, who was happy to oblige. Fred took them to Daphne's house as Velma tried to explain the plan that could solve the mystery of the Black Knight Ghost.
In Daphne's room, Scooby was worried. He had been pacing back and forth, his ears down.
"Rhat roes the roll rean?," asked Scooby. Shaggy, of course had to translate.
"He asked about the scroll. What does it mean?" Velma's eyes beamed with confidence and started to explain. "Obviously, the 'knight of dark' is the Black Knight. The mark could possibly be a family crest, of which brings up the history and the importance of the armor, therefore solving the mystery." Everyone nodded as the explanation made sense. "So, I've got this idea for a trap.," Fred stated, "We could sneak into the museum and act as if we were burglars. We could, first, find the mark and then bring the Knight to the Mystery Machine, and drive around town,until the Knight blasts to life. Then, we can bust out of the van, and have him step into the rope for the flag, at school. We can trap him with a simple pulley-like mechanism and unmask the freak."
"Fred, that's, like, brilliant! One thing though, it's a freaking ghost!," shouted Shaggy.
"Reah! A reaking rhost!," Scooby shouted, flapping his paws in the air.
"Scooby, Shaggy, there are no such things as ghosts," Daphne explained. Shaggy looked over at Scooby and frowned.
"We're gonna, like, hear that a lot, aren't we?"
"Robably," Scooby sighed. The teens went over every step of the plan for a long time. Finally, it was time to initiate the plan.
It was well around 12 AM as Scooby, Shaggy and Daphne snuck into the Coolsville Museum. The two teens held flashlights while Scooby sniffed around. He lead the group to the Black Knight. The set of armor moved to make itself comfortable while still standing erect. Scooby flinched at the sight of the moving statue. Shaggy and Daphne circled around the Black Knight, trying to find a mark of any sort.
"Like, this is pointless," said Shaggy.
"Rhaggy! Rhush, re'll rear rou!," Scooby scolded, jerking his head toward the armor. "You guys, I think I found the mark!," whispered Daphne. Shaggy snuck to the back of the armor and looked at where Daphne's light was pointed. On the back of the neck, was a fancy 'W' encased in an oval. "Rhat's Rickles ramily rest!," exclaimed Scooby.
"How do you know that Scoob?"
"Rit's on the roor rover rhere!" Scooby nodded to Wickles' office. Daphne looked at the dog in amazement. We can be a detective angency, she thought. She heard Shaggy whimper and looked at him. He was staring at the armor. Did it turn around?, Daphne mentally asked. The suit started to glow it's ghastly red and then it laughed it's metallic echo of a laugh. The group screamed and ran for dear life, out of the museum. Shaggy opened the door and beckoned Scooby and Daphne through the door. They got half way through the courtyard when the museum entrance exploded. Through smoke and flames, the Black Knight Ghost marched and laughed. The group started torward the Mystery Machine, but were interrupted by the wall of flame, boxing them in. Shaggy turned around and stared at the knight. Daphne got into a fighting stance and Scooby lowered his head and growled at their oncoming attacker. The Black Knight Ghost threw his arms out, and from out of the museum, flew a black shield and sword, into his hands. He charged at the group but, they moved out of the way, so he only struck the van, hidden by flames. He fell down, covering the fire and the group ran over the Knight's back, not daring to enter the Mystery Machine. They were half a block away when they heard the metallic clang of metal and stone.
"Zoinks!," screamed Shaggy.
"Re're ronna rie!," cried Scooby. Daphne just screamed. They took a right and started down the street heading toward the school. "You will pay for thy insolence! Come back here peasants!," echoed the armor clad spectre. The group slowed down a bit when the school was in their sight. Shaggy heard heavy, echoing breathing from behind him. He saw the knight, standing directly behind him. His hair stood on end as he screamed. Scooby ran between Shaggy's legs, which caused him to fall onto his pet's back. Daphne whipped around and kicked the Black Knight Ghost between the legs. He groaned as she ran away.
Fred peered around the bush he was hiding in, only to be tackled by Shaggy and Scooby.
"Like, what's up Fred?," Shaggy panicly asked. Fred pushed them and stood up, only to be tackled, yet again, but by Daphne. They sat there awkwardly until they heard the knight's voice.
"Come here children!" Velma looked at the knight and noticed his foot was in the loop. She signaled Fred, who blushed and pushed Daphne, gently, aside. He yanked the rope to his pulley, causing the loop to shrink around the knight's ankle. The team cheered as their slightly altered plan came to a successful end. Scooby-Doo strutted at of his hiding spot and headed over to the suspended body of their foe. Scooby laughed at him, but when the helmet fell off, he jumped like a frightened cat.
"Time to find out who this punk really is," boldly stated Fred. "It's Old Man Wickles," said Daphne, calmly.
"Yeah, right." Fred spun the man around and gasped. Velma giggled as he was proven wrong. "It's Old Man Wickles!"
"I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids and that darn dog!," furiously shouted Wickles. "What exactly would you, like, have gotten away with?," questioned Shaggy. Velma pulled out her voice recorder to use this statement as evidence.
"I stole my armor back from that damned Ravencroft, to help prove the curse, to bring in more tourists."
"But we have enough tourism money from the Crystal Cove tours underneath the town!"
"But I don't see a dime from that money!"
"Wait, if you didn't want to be caught, then why did you drop the scroll, giving us a hint?," asked Velma.
"I did know such thing girl!"
"Then who did?," asked the gang in unison. The authorities showed up and took Wickles away. Scooby looked at his friends excitedly. "Re rolved a rystery!," he exclaimed. The team looked at each other, satisfied.
The new curator of the museum opened an exhibit for the teen sleuths. It was called 'Mystery Incorporated' and it had six statues. Five were the teens and Scooby-Doo, while the sixth was the Black Knight Ghost. Ravencroft Books funded the whole thing, and paid for the damage done. The teens were rewarded as heroes, as well. The jock, the prep, the nerd and the outcast, with their dog and groovy van, became great friends and spent much time together. They thought their mystery solving was over, until they heard the rumors of Ben Ravencroft's ancestral ship being stolen by a ghostly pirate.