Velma carefully slit open the wrinkled manila envelope and slid out a thick paperback book titled, The Beast in the Bayou: A Detective Cam Clarke Novel by Beau Neville. She grinned broadly and cracked open the freshly printed book. Inhaling that oh-so-wonderful new book smell, Velma settled into her armchair and began to read. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was Velma voraciously turning pages until the blissful silence was interrupted by a shrieking demon from hell.
"Oh, jinkies," Velma grumbled in irritation, reaching over to pick up the shrieking demon. "Good afternoon, Mystery Incorporated. How may I direct your call?" Grabbing a notepad and pencil, she chewed on the eraser, waiting for the caller's answer. "Yes, this is she. Okay. Sure thing. 9450 E. Summerhill Drive? We'll be there!"
Within minutes, the gang had clambered into the Mystery Machine and was on their way to their next case. "So who needs our help this time?" Fred asked curiously, steering the Mystery Machine around a grandma in a Hugo.
"Dave Hammer, the owner of Hammer Gym downtown," Velma replied, sliding her square-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "He says that his gym is being haunted!"
In the backseat, Shaggy raised an eyebrow. "A haunted gym? That, like, makes it DOUBLY worse in my book!" Scooby yipped in agreement.
"Anyway," continued Velma, "Mr. Hammer didn't want to say too much over the phone, but he asked us to come and help."
"I hope it's not a giant donut again," Daphne joked.
The gang arrived at Hammer Gym, a gleaming tower of steel and glass located in downtown Coolsville. "Well, gang, this must be the place!" Fred announced. With a flick of his wrist, he expertly steered the van into a parking spot and the gang clambered out.
As the gang strode up to the entrance, the door suddenly slammed open! The sleuths were almost trampled by a surging throng of people! "Yikes! It's horrifying!" "Awful!" "I'll never exercise again!" The crowd's screams of horror overlapped as they all raced away in fright.
"We must be in the right place," Velma said, gingerly pulling open the door.
The gang entered the lobby, a round room made almost entirely of glass. The Hammer Gym Logo, two crossed throwing hammers, was inlaid into the marble floor. A steel desk sat in the corner, guarding a door that presumably led to the gym.
An enormous man wearing a red Hammer Gym T-shirt and navy mesh shorts raced through the door and approached the gang. "Welcome to Hammer Gym! I'm the owner, Dave Hammer. I do apologize, but you will have to leave your dog outside."
Scooby looked around wildly. "Rog!? Rhere?!"
Fred extended his hand. "I'm Fred Jones of Mystery Incorporated, and Scooby goes where we go. That's non-negotiable."
Dave stroked his brown goatee with a grin. "You come with your own K-9 unit? Okay, I can live with that." He shook Fred's hand with a powerful grip, causing Fred to yelp in pain. "Ooh, sorry about that. So you're the famous Mystery Incorporated! Thanks for coming!"
"Glad to help," replied Velma. "We always get our monster!"
"Or man in a monster suit," Daphne countered. "That's usually all it is, Mr. Hammer."
"It's Dave. None of that Mr. Hammer nonsense," Dave sighed, removing his Hammer Gym ball cap to scratch his messy brown hair.
"So what's been happening here, Dave?" Fred asked.
Dave lowered his voice conspiratorially. "It started last week. At first, I wrote it off as a silly prank, but I'm getting worried, especially since people are leaving left and right. They call it the 'Gym Ghoul.' It's this really gross-looking zombie; green, rotting skin and this awful skeletal face." Shaggy grabbed ahold of Scooby's paws and began nibbling on his pet's nails. In annoyance, Scooby snatched his paw away gave Shaggy an admonishing look.
"So you've seen the creature?" asked Fred.
"Yeah, and I wish I could UN-see it!" Dave moaned. "Because of that monster, all my customers are staying away in droves! Can you kids help!?"
"We'll do our best!" Velma proclaimed. "Is there anyone you suspect?"
"Yes I do," Dave muttered darkly. "My next-door neighbor, Wyatt Masters. That two-timer started up a gym NEXT DOOR to me to spite me!"
Fred snagged his front teeth over his bottom lip. "Hmmm…So I think we need have a talk with this Mr. Masters, then."