What is this? What have I done? This will hopefully be a series co-written with my awesome buddy if we ever finish writing part two.

Crossover between Scooby Doo and Supernatural. Needless to say, this is sheer crack.

Once upon a time, two attractive young folks, one marginally attractive young person, a skinny stoner, and a dog pulled their Mystery Machine into the driveway of a dank and musty old building—a "haunted house" if you will, for you see, they were following a lead. According to the local paper, a vampire had made the building his home, and now locals were disappearing—this was right up the Scooby gang's alley.

"Jinkies," said the marginally attractive Velma, as she stepped out of the psychedelic van, "looks like we've got a mystery on our hands guys."

"Ruh-roh!" said Scooby Doo, and stuffed his head under his paws.

"Don't worry Scooby," said Daphne, "monsters aren't real. If they were, we'd have encountered some by now." Shaggy fails to point out that they in fact, have encountered real monsters.

"Yeah," agrees Fred. "This will be a piece of cake. We'll enter the house, find misleading clues, be chased by the monster while accompanied by catchy 70s music, I'll come up with a plan which will be bungled by a combined effort of Shaggy and Scooby's incompetence, but will ultimately succeed anyway due to that very same incompetence. Then we'll unmask the monster and it will be some innocuous person we met earlier in our adventure, whom we never would have expected. That's how it always happens."

"Ruv course," Scooby conceded, allowing himself to be dragged from the Mystery Machine.

ooooo

Once in the house, events unfolded in the exact way that Fred had described, that is, until the end.

Velma approached their so-called "vampire," and made to pull off his face—only his face didn't budge. In a swift moment, the vampire bit at her hand, then pulled her close, forcing her to drink deeply of his blood. The Scooby gang could only look on in horror as their poor nerdy Velma was transformed into a vampire before their eyes—and not the fun pun-spouting kind either.

Consumed with newfound bloodlust, vampire Velma drew closer to her friends, cornering them with the power of intimidation.

That was when it happened.

A ridiculously attractive man in his thirties leapt at Velma with a machete, and cut her head clean off, to the horror of the Mystery Machine kids.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said. "Is everyone okay?"

Their expressions were vacant with terror, but the stoned one in the green shirt seemed to be pointing at something behind the newcomer.

The man turned to see Big-Daddy Vamp lunging at him, filled with grief at the loss of his new sexy nerd-daughter.

The attack was cut short as another impossibly sexy man, this one quite tall and with long hair, gave the vampire the same machete treatment.

"You should be more careful Dean," he said. Daphne fainted. The sexy was too much for her to handle.

Dean Winchester eyed the group over, gaze lingering on the massive anthropomorphic dog. "Well, this is awkward."

"You just killed Velma!" Fred accused, affronted at no longer being the most attractive man in the room.

"To be fair, she was a vampire," Dean replied.

"Dean!" said the tall man; Sam was his name. "Have compassion! They have just lost their poor, orange, barrel." He put a comforting hand on Fred's shoulder, and with puppy-dog eyes said, "I am very sorry for your loss."

Fred could not resist the power of the puppy dog eyes. Neither could Shaggy. Nor could the suddenly-revitalized Daphne. When it came to sweet-talking, Sam Winchester was the undisputed champion.

"Anyway," said Dean, rolling his eyes in the direction of his little brother's sparkliness, "what are you kids doing hunting vampires? It's a dangerous gig, you know."

"Vampires aren't supposed to be real," Dapnhe moaned tearily. "We've been doing this for 43 years, and it's always, ALWAYS been a guy in a mask!"

"Except for when it wasn't," Shaggy neglected to say.

Dean and Sam exchanged flabbergasted looks. These were kids—teenagers! There was no way they had been on the job for so long. Perhaps Cas's suspicions had some merit after all. Speaking of which . . .

The Scooby Gang had been distracted by the combined sex appeal of the Winchester brothers, and the two vampiric corpses in the room; they completely failed to notice hushed voices behind them—that is, until the confused brotherly silence had fallen. Now the Mystery Machine kids were quite aware of said voices, and slowly turned around to find Scooby Doo in what appeared to be deep conversation with a disheveled, once again, unbelievably pretty man in a trenchcoat.

"Zoinks!" exclaimed Shaggy. "Who are you?"

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord," he replied flatly.

"How dreamy," Daphne responded, forgetting about the beautiful majesty that was Sam's visage. Fred was less-than-happy with the encroachment on his alpha-male status. He was supposed to be the sexy one. He had an ascot for heaven's sake! Also, Velma was dead.

"Why are you talking to our dog?" he asked, flat black eyes betraying none of his irritation.

"Your dog is an abomination to God and his creations."

The Scooby gang sat in shocked silence. Even Velma's corpse seemed surprised.

"What," said Shaggy, flatly.

"Actually," Dean began. "That is the reason we came in the first place. I guess." He didn't seem too sure himself.

"Your dog talks. Did you not find this strange?"

"That's silly," said Daphne at the same time Fred said, "Scooby doesn't talk."

"He's my best friend," Shaggy added, helpfully.

"Oh." The angel looked sheepish. "I apologize then."

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" Daphne criticized, stamping her foot.

"Yeah Cas," Dean added, confused. "The dog isn't talking."

"Reah," said Scooby. "I do not talk."

"My apologies," Castiel repeated, patting the Great Dane on the head. Scooby allowed the motion—it was normal for a person to pet a dog after all—but the damage had been done. There was a great flash of light and the demon inhabiting Scooby Doo—that had been inhabiting Scooby Doo for decades—was exorcised.

The dog fell over, dead, as he was hundreds of dog years old, and the demon had been the only thing keeping him alive. Shaggy rushed to his best friend's side, cradled the massive head in his arms, and cried "Scooby!" in remorse.

The Mystery Machine kids were so remorseful over the deaths of their friends, that they didn't even notice as the estrogen bait brigade turned and left the building.

ooooo

From that day on, Fred, Daphne, and Shaggy, out of respect for their friends, gave up hunting. They also began to age, resembling the 50+ years they were, rather than the youths they had been since 1969. They never stopped swearing revenge on the Winchester brothers and their angel.

Meanwhile, the Winchester brothers and angelic associate went on to have many more, decidedly non-angsty adventures. Probably.