Our story begins in a small town called Caroton, a little hamlet that had little going for it. Nothing ever really happened, and everybody figured nothing ever would. Surrounded by nothing and in the middle of nowhere, and at least four miles (nobody bothered to measure exactly) from a large city, Caroton was fairly isolated from the rest of the world.
It was a simple town, with a simple layout, a main street branching off into several smaller streets, and tiny shops dotting the sidewalks. There was a school, and a mall, both at opposite ends of the town, for this was because the city had once been home to two warring factions of minimal interest to anyone important. In the center of the town (off a little bit from the real center, because then it would be in the middle of the street) was the town hall, a modest building run by a modest man, of modest height and bad ideas. Yet he had still been elected mayor for the seventh time running, mainly because no one could be bothered to run against him, that, and the fact that no one really cared for the position. Or the people who chose to fill it.
During the summer, the middle of which this story begins, the town was always very slow, (perhaps an outdated car rumbling and coughing down the road) and people meandering down the hot, cracked sidewalk, occasionally popping into a shop to escape the blistering summer heat that came around every year, as the seasons dictated.
It was never hard to find a job; new shops were constantly coming and going throughout the town, and the school district, (as it was positively tiny) was always hiring, for teachers were always going or (for whatever reason) disappearing. This vacuum is where our story begins and the story of one town. Norville Rogers was the new Home Economics teacher at Caroton High, home of the (in)fighting Cat Dogs (students were either one or the other).
It was late in the summer afternoon (around 5:46) Norville's 1989 VW Bus popped and bumped down the main street, drawing looks from either side at the radioactive green (green being Norville's favorite color) paint as a large great dane hung its head out the passenger side window, panting heavily, a goofy grin plastered across his face.
"Like, wow Scoob!" Norville grinned, not unlike his dog, "Look at all the restaurants here!" The dog nodded and licked his lips before letting out a loud bark. Smiling, Norville twisted the fuzzy steering wheel and onto a side street, passing by house after house, car after car, in driveway after driveway.
"1961...1965... Ah! 1969!" Norville grabbed the gearshift and clunked it into first, before turning into a small, worn down driveway, right in front of an old worn down house. Grabbing the key, laden with small caricatures of food, he jiggled and yanked it out of the ignition. With a sharp grumble, the van's engine stopped and belched out a stream of smoke.
"Well looks like we're stuck here." Norville pocketed the keys in his old, baggy, magenta pants with a jingle and patted the tough, weathered cloth. Tugging the handle on the inside of the door, he wiggled it three times before taking both hands and giving a strong tug.
The door opened with a bang and Norville jumped out, closing the door behind him, and yanking the large sliding door outfitted on the side of his van. Scooby Doo barked and leapt out, his paws beating on the cement as he ran up to the wooden porch of the house, which creaked slightly under his bouncing weight (approximately 190 pounds). Norville hummed as he dug a key out of his pocket and flipped it into the air, and palmed it in his hand.
"Well, Scooby Doo, like, welcome home!" He laughed as he inserted the key into the door and gave a hearty shove. Pushing into a dark, dimly lit living room, empty and full of dark shadows cast by the setting sun from two windows embedded in the wood wall.
"Dang it's, like, dark in here." Norville patted and ran his hand along the wall looking for a light switch. With a small flick of his hand the room lit up with a (brand new) light bulb shedding yellow light a group of people and a large sign. 'Welcome to Caroton!' was painted across the white paper. As soon as the lights came on, the assembled crowd gave a large shout,
"WELCOME TO CAROTON!" Both Norville and Scooby screamed, causing looks of surprise to sketch themselves onto the faces of the welcoming party.
"AHHH!" Scooby ran in full circle, paws scratching at the floor, before leaping onto Norville's arms. Norville struggled for a moment before heaving Scooby over his shoulders and running out the door, still screaming.
A purple-haired woman stepped forward and turned to the rest of the group. A green party hat was perched over her purple curls and a (lighter) purple cardigan covered her figure. She crossed her arms and glared at the party,
"Well that was absolute shit. You didn't even shout, Jack." The sound of an engine trying to start, and failing, coughed from the open door, as well a high-pitch shriek.
"Like, Scoob! We're stuck here! Oh god it's all over!" A mixture between barking and whining accompanied it, as well as a shaking in the back of the van.
"Ummm… Sheri?" An ample-bosomed woman with long pink bangs stepped next to her peer, with her hands clasped together in front of her stomach, "I think we should… umm… probably go get him…" Sheri blinked momentarily before her gaze returned in full force, and, without even turning her head as her gaze still fixated on her other friends, she nodded.
"Oh yeah. Can you do that Fiona?" Fiona nodded and quietly slipped out the door, while Sheri complained to the others.
Walking daintily out and down the wooden porch steps, she looked into the greasy (and covered in various stains from various foods) window of the van. Inside, Scooby and Norville were curled up in the front seat, and shaking together.
"Like, this is it, old buddy old pal, this is the day we die." Scooby whimpered. Fiona stared at them for a moment, studied them, and then, tapping a long, thin finger against the glass, she smiled weakly at the cowering man and dog. Jerking their heads up, Norville and Scooby zeroed in on Fiona's face. Gulping he rolled down the window,
"Like, w-who are you?" Fiona smiled,
"My name is Fiona Shipton." Offering a party hat to the frightened man, she slowly reached in and held out her hand to Scooby, "I like you dog…" Scooby's ears pricked and he licked her hand, which began scratching him under the chin. Scooby panted heavily and nudged his large brown head against her hand, as Norville sat up and snapped the party hat under his chin and over his head.
"Like, sorry about freaking out inside." He grinned sheepishly and Scooby sprawled out across his lap under Fiona's hand.
"Oh it's quite alright." Fiona said softly, "I told them that the party would be too startling…" she sighed, "Being surprised is fun, but being startled is too… startling." Norville laughed, and opened the door with a heavy 'thunk'.
"Like, I'm with you man. Being startling is way too scary. This is Scooby Doo. And I'm Norville Rogers. But you can, like, call me Shaggy." He gestured to Scooby and himself as Fiona giggled. Scooby nodded with a large smile and rubbed himself up against Fiona's legs, scrunching her pink skirt. Smoothing it out, Fiona knelt down next to the great dane and nuzzled her face up against his cheek.
"Oh, I know. Sheri told us about you. Not too many people move to town, so it's a pretty big deal when someone does." Shaggy nodded.
"Like, so you set up a welcome wagon. Groovy idea, dude." Fiona stood up, but still keeping her hand on Scooby's head, and walked slowly into the front door of the house. Shaggy slammed the door to the van and followed her up the three steps leading into the open door of the living room.
"And that's why we can't have nice things! Because somebody's sperm always ends up on it- oh. Goddammit." Sheri turned around to a beet-red Fiona and an awkwardly grinning Shaggy.
Looking around the room, which was bare except for the six people inside it. It was made of wood planks laid out in rows, that seemed to squeak even though no one was moving. A stairwell led up into darkness on the right side, with a small reading table next to the banister, what appeared to be the only furniture in the entire house. Shaggy guessed that it was like that throughout the entire house.
"Like, hi everyone. I'm Shaggy, and this is Scooby Doo." Sheri's lips curled into a large smile.
"Oh, it's so wonderful to have you move to our humble town!" She squealed and grasped Shaggy's hand, "Oh I've been looking forward to you coming for weeks! These are some of the people who volunteered to help welcome you." She extended a well-manicured hand behind her and swept it across the room. Shaggy grinned,
"Like… thanks… uhh…" Sheri gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Where are my manners! I'm Sheri Lee." She rapidly pumped Shaggy's hand in greeting, and gave a welcoming scratch behind Scooby's ears. Fiona melded back into the crowd next to a large, muscular man. Smiling widely, Sheri backed up from Shaggy, and grabbed a large, wrapped basket, and presented it to Shaggy.
"Here you go! A welcoming gift from us to you!" Shaggy gripped the wicker basket by the handle and set it down on Scooby's head.
"Like, thanks! Hold this, Scoob." Scooby flipped the basket handle into his mouth and barked around it. Sheri's smile somehow got even wider, showing more rows of slightly yellowed teeth.
"My, I keep forgetting everything today! Heeheehee!" She gave a shrill laugh, "Let me introduce you to the gang, Norville!"
"Shaggy." Shaggy piped up, "It's fine to call me Shaggy." Sheri giggled again,
"Okay, Shaggy. Well, you already met Fiona." She smacked the shorter girl on the back, causing her to give a small squeak. Taking a few steps to her left, she stood up in her tiptoes to place her hand on the shoulder of a large man. It was next to him that Shaggy realized how small everyone else was compared to him.
Sheri wasn't that short (Shaggy figured about five and a half feet), and though she was thin, neither was Fiona (He didn't have to look down on her, so he figured about five eleven), but next to this mountain of a man, everybody in the room seemed to shrink. Over his plank-board sized shoulders, what must have been an extra-extra-extra large red flannel shirt, stretched and covered his massive torso. It was unbuttoned a couple of buttons at the neck, revealing an abundance of dirty-blonde chest hair. Shaggy gulped, and Scooby cowered behind him.
"This, is Macintosh." The man raised a ham of a hand in greeting,
"Eeeyup. As Miss Sheri here said, my name is Macintosh. Macintosh Abbey. But ya'll can call me Mac." A heavy southern accent coated his soft speech. He was obviously a gentle giant, even to Scooby and Shaggy's skittish eyes. "Mah family runs the farm outside a' town." He grinned and offered his hand to Shaggy, who took it tentatively and was promptly shaken up and down fiercely by a hearty handshake from the farmer.
"L-luuh-ike n-nice to mee-ee-eet you." Shaggy said jitterily as he was shaken up and down. Mac smiled sheepishly and let go.
"Sorry 'bout that. Ya'll are like a twig!" Sheri rolled her eyes,
"Everyone's like a twig next to you, Mac. Moving on." Going over to the next man, Sheri held her hand in front of his chest, "This is-" The man interrupted her before she could finish,
"I am Bushi Jack." Wearing a white yutaka, the man resembled an old-fashioned samurai warrior, with his hair in a topknot and a wooden kendo sword strapped to his side. His eyes studied Shaggy, and then slid to Scooby, and the pair could feel their skin crawl; they knew they were being watched by a predator. "Hello Rogers-san."
"Like, domo-arigato, Jack-san. Daremoga imamade anata ga kowai anata ni itta?" Jack's eyes widened (as did everyone else's) before he grinned and burst out laughing. Every eye in the room keyed in on Jack in astonishment. Jack was (almost) always stoic and never really showed emotion, so for such a huge display was obviously a surprise.
"Hahaha! Yes, yes they have, Rogers-san! And they never really stop!" he wiped his eye with a finger, "Although, I must ask where you learned your Japanese. It sounds like you're an online translator." Shaggy grinned,
"Oh, like, that? I learned while I was studying Japanese cuisine in Tokyo." Jack's eyebrow raised,
"Ahh, so you are familiar with sushi then?" Shaggy nodded proudly,
"I was the head of my class." Jack smiled,
"Then you are welcome at my dojo anytime." Sheri shook herself free of the shock of hearing Jack laugh, and mechanically moved onto a young African-American girl beside Jack.
Dressed in a bright blue sweater and a short pair of jeans, she tipped a red floppy hat in greeting. Her dark black hair was in twin-plaited pigtails that stretched down her back. Keeping a hand in her pocket, she offered a hand. Shaggy took it and shook it, glad to have a hand that didn't crush his.
"Pleasure to meet ya, Shags. Name's Abigail Lincon." Sheri giggled nervously,
"Now now, Abigail, he's your teacher, you should call him Mr. Rogers." Abigail looked at her and smiled, white teeth outlined on her dark skin,
"Sorry 'bout that, Ms. S. Let me try that again." holding out a hand, she looked Shaggy in the eye and smiled before suavely and smoothly reintroducing herself. She then bent down next to Scooby,
"How you doin' dog?" She held up her fist is greeting and Scooby bumped his own paw against it.
"Oh, it's cool, dude. You can call me Shaggy if you want. And that's Scooby Doo." Abigail smiled and looked up,
"Cool." Sheri smiled and rubbed Abigail on the head, accidentally knocking her hat off, and making Abigail pick it up and readjust her hat so that it still covered her eyes,
"Isn't she great? She's the student-body president. And only a junior, too!" Sheri looked at her, "Oh sorry Abby." Abigail shrugged,
"It's all good, Ms. S. don't worry 'bout it." Sheri clapped her hands together excitedly,
"Well that's everyone! I'm so glad it didn't go as badly as last time!" She cast a glare towards Jack who frowned and pinkened ever so slightly. Shaggy smiled,
"Like, this is the best move I've ever had!" Scooby barked and nodded in agreement, "And, I hate to ask, but, do you, like have any grub? Cause Scooby and I haven't had much except some road food." Sheri grinned.
"Of course!" Mac stepped forward and picked up the basket and ripped off the tissue paper covering it, revealing a large basket full of apples and canned food. Shaggy licked his lips.
"Like, does this place have a kitchen?" Fiona nodded,
"Of course." Shuffling past Mac, she quietly slipped into a door at the far end of the living room. The solid wood floors abruptly gave way into tiles, eggshell-white peeling wall paint was bolstered by two thin counters, a toaster, a small toaster-oven, on the tiles and couple of cupboards above each one. Beside the left counter a large old-fashioned 1950's refrigerator sat, whirring softly. Fiona slipped down the thin aisle between the counters and opened the refrigerator, humming softly. Mac poked his head through the threshold and passed the basket to Shaggy,
"There should be some stuff in here you can use." Noticing Fiona digging through the refrigerator, he frowned, "Hon, there's no food in there." After a bit of wiggling and jerking Fiona pulled herself out, and shut the door softly.
"I know… But there's no room in here, and I got stuck…" Mac snickered slightly before pulling his head out into the living room. Fiona sidled up next to Shaggy, and rifled through the basket. Pulling out a can of re-fried beans, she reached into the drawer below her waist and patted around for a can opener.
"Here." Shaggy took the can from her and placed it on the counter. Pulling a small fork out of his pocket, he flashed a smile at her and placed the fork head down on top of the can, before bringing his hand down with a bang. Fiona squealed and pulled her arms up to her chest. Carving into the lid, Shaggy peeled back the tin lid with the fork and stirred the beans before pulling out an apple from the basket. Fiona examined the can.
"How did you do that?" Shaggy gave a toothy grin,
"I'll do anything to get to food. Scooby's the same way." Fiona's eyes sharply looked up to Shaggy. Humming, Shaggy crushed the apple into the beans and stirred.
"Umm… Shaggy?" Shaggy continued to stir the apples in the beans,
"You got a bowl?"
"Ummm… Not right now… Listen, Shaggy?"
"Shame. We'll have to use the cans." Fiona bit her lip and took a deep breath.
"Shaggy." Shaggy jerked at the firm voice Fiona was using. Looking at her, Shaggy's eyes widened,
"Like, what's wrong Fiona?" The pinkette stared into Shaggy's eyes firmly.
"It's not you. What's wrong with Scooby?" Shaggy instantly stopped stirring and his face froze.
"I, like, don't, like, know what you're, like, talking about." Fiona's pupils shrunk as her eyelids, normally half-lidded and calm, suddenly became hard and aggressive.
"Norville, look at me." Shaggy gulped and stirred the beans harder, his lips thinned and his jaw moved. Fiona grabbed his hands and twisted his shoulders so that she was looking into his eyes. Fiona softened,
"Shaggy. What's wrong with Scooby?" Shaggy sighed and set the beans down on the counter.
"I was going to be a vet." Fiona blinked in confusion,
"Excuse me?" Shaggy slumped his back against the counter,
"I went for, like, a year to be a vet. I loved animals. Especially dogs." He looked at the ceiling, and a wistful look paired with a far-off smile came over his face. "So, when I was halfway through college I went to a farm on, like, the east-side to adopt one. Knittingham Farm. Run by this sweet old lady." he recalled "That's when I met Scooby Doo." Fiona leaned back, quiet, listening to the story, "He from a litter of four, and by far the weakest. He couldn't even stand." Fiona thought back to the many animals that clouded her mind. She could see where the story would be taking her.
"But weakness doesn't account for any of that other stuff. The bow-legs, the humped back, and the chin… I can't even be certain that that's the only thing wrong with him." She sighed, and Shaggy continued.
"Of course. Even an amateur like me could tell that something was wrong. In fact, everybody I went to concluded that he would be dead by three weeks." Fiona knew. She knew the feel of despair.
"But you adopted him anyway." Shaggy nodded, the wistful look gone from his face.
"I must have, like, tried everything: antibiotics, pain killers, I was ready to take him into surgery to fix everything. Or at least try to." Fiona laid a hand on his shoulder,
"But why didn't you?" Shaggy shook his head,
"I couldn't afford it." Of course. The killer of so many; the almighty dollar. Shaggy sniffed, and ran a finger across his nose.
"I was feeling so depressed. He was walking, if you could, like, even call it that. He was even begging for scraps at the table. So, with only a week left to live, I did the only thing I could do. I fed him. But that's when it happened. It was just a hamburger. But I figured he would be, like, dead within a week, so, why not? He really seemed to like it. And, like, I kept cooking for him. All the things I could. Steaks, fish, even club sandwiches." he laughed softly when he saw the appalled look on Fiona's face,
"But that's…"
"Terrible? Like, I thought so too. It went against all my training. But like I said. He was gonna die anyway. Sort of, like, a last meal. Funny thing was, I took him to all the best restaurants in town, but he wouldn't, like, have any of it. He only ate what I made him." Fiona's eyebrows furled,
"And so a week passed. But to my amazement, like, he wasn't dead. In fact he seemed like he was doing better. So I kept doing what I was doing, making him breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And, like, week after week after week he kept getting healthier and healthier." Fiona listened with rapt attention, and a warm feeling was quickly filling up her insides,
"After a while, it all made sense. It was the food. I didn't know how, and didn't care. I dropped out of college and enrolled in culinary school. I studied nutrition, servings, food preparation, everything that could have affected it." Fiona's eyes were drawn to his face, and she could only just listen as her eyes pricked.
"That's the only reason I enrolled in cooking school; so, like, that I could keep him alive. After a year, he nearly the size of a normal great dane. He was walking and barking and playing fetch, everything other dogs did. After, like, two he was still eating and doing great. So I swore until the day he died, I would make sure he was well fed and cared for." Fiona's eyes were filled with tears, and they trickled down her soft cheeks. Shaggy grinned another goofy grin,
"Don't worry about it. He's, like, my best bud. We've been together for five years and I'd do anything for him." nodding, Fiona wiped the tears from her eyes and ran the neck of her yellow turtleneck across her face. Wrapping her arms around Shaggy, who lifted his arms awkwardly. Fiona sniffed against his shirt,
"I'm so sorry about crying! I just get so emotional over anything to do with animals…" Shaggy hesitantly patted her on the back,
"Like, it's all good. Don't worry about it. In fact, like, I'm glad that someone cares about Scoob, too." Fiona continued to sniff into his shirt.
"In all my years of working as a vet-"
"You're a vet?" Shaggy interjected, but Fiona continued,
"I've never met another person who cares as much about their animal companions as myself." Shaggy looked at her,
"Like, I repeat, you're a vet?" Fiona looked up at him, and gave him a small smile, her cheeks pink from crying.
"Oh, did I not say that?" she deadpanned, and Shaggy shook his head, "Haha… I guess I'm as bad as Sheri, huh?" Wiping her nose, she backed up and grabbed the can of beans, "I should probably take this out, we took a lot of time." She pushed her way through the door to the living room, where she was greeted with a an excited Sheri. Shaggy returned to opening cans and crushing apples. After a minute of two,Mac once again poked his head through the doorway.
"Heya." His deep alto rumbled through the kitchen. Squeezing his large torso into the tiny kitchen, which, like everything else that seemed to be around Mac, shrunk abruptly. Shaggy looked up at him nervously,
"Like, hi." Mac leant over the counter, his muscled forearms dwarfing Shaggy's skinny ones.
"Them apples and beans?" Shaggy gulped,
"Yeah, l-like, what about them?"
"Darn good." Mac grinned, at him, an almost childlike innocence that astounded Shaggy. Mac looked at him,
"Didn't even know ya could do that with apples. And I grow 'em for a livin'." He chuckled, and quieted. After sitting in a pregnant silence, the two men stared at each other before pointedly looking away. Shaggy continued to toy with an apple, rolling it across the tiles of the counter, while Mac twiddled his thumbs. Finally Mac sighed,
"Listen, I'm gonna give it to ya straight. I have no idea why I'm here. I kinda only came in here because I liked the apples and beans. In fact ya'll have been traveling all day, right? So I think I'm gonna clear everyone outta here, iff'n ya'll don't mind." Shaggy sighed,
"Like, I hate to be rude, but could you please? I wanna go to sleep." Mac gave him a toothy grin and winked,
"No problem, buddy. Stop be the farm anytime you want to do some work." With another chuckle, Mac shoved his way out the door and began talking in his low vibrato that everyone need to leave. Shaggy followed him to bid his guests farewell. Jack scoffed at Mac,
"What are you? His bouncer?" But still exited anyway, slipping on a pair of clogs before holding the door open to Sheri, who waved. Jack began to click-clack down the street wooden kendo sword at his side.
"I left the school schedule on the table! See you soon!" Before tonelessly whistling off down the road after Jack, her perky purple curls bouncing. Holding the door open, Mac held his hand out to Fiona.
"Oh, I'll right there, Macky. Just wait for me outside." Mac shrugged and closed the door behind him. Fiona looked at Shaggy before kneeling down next to Scooby.
"If he ever needs a checkup, just come to my clinic." She said quietly, pushing her bangs off her face so that Scooby could lick it vigorously, "I'll be happy to give him one." Shaggy smiled at her,
"Thanks Fiona." She smiled back,
"I'm sure you two will love it here." Giving Scooby one last scratch behind the ears, she grabbed a small pink purse covered in butterflies lying near the door and walked out. Shaggy sighed as she closed the door behind her.
"Relieved?" Shaggy jumped. Spinning around, he sighed when he only saw Abigail leaning against the wall. Adjusting her hat, she gave a smirk, "Chill, man. Just wanted to give you this." She pulled a large scroll out of her blue sweater pocket.
"Like, what's this?" Shaggy asked, taking the scroll from her and opening it. Abigail shrugged before pushing herself off the wall and headed for the door,
"It's a map, Mr. R.. You know how whenever you start in videogames you get a map? Well this is your map." She waved good-bye, with a "Later Mr. R!" before shutting the door behind her. Shaggy looked at the door for a moment.
"Wow!" he turned to Scooby, "Like, what a nice group of people!" the dog nodded in agreement and let out a large yawn. "Come on buddy, lets go see if there's a bed in this place." the two ascended the steps to the second level, where they found an ugly closet, an ugly bedroom, (complete with lumpy bed), and a (surprisingly) nice bathroom. Flopping down onto the bed, Shaggy wormed his hands under the pillow, while Scooby curled up at his feet, settled down and began snoring heavily.
"Oh man…" Shaggy yawned, "Like, I am dead." Scooby snored in response. And soon, Shaggy was snoring too, the days events clouding his head, as he fell into a deeper and deeper sleep.