"Well, gang, here we are. Frank Jenkins' Swamp Tours," Fred exclaimed as he pulled into a deserted parking lot.

"Jeepers, there's no one here," said Daphne as her eyes lingered on the cracked pavement and dilapidated shack on the edge of the swamp. An airboat bobbed in the murky green sludge.

A heavyset blond man strolled out from behind the ticket booth. "Are you Mystery Incorporated?" he asked.

"We sure are," Fred said. "I'm Fred. This is Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo."

"Hey, guys," Frank replied, shaking hands (and paws.) "Thanks so much for coming. It really means a lot to me,"

"Well, we always get our monster. Or man in a monster suit, as it usually turns out to be," replied Velma.

"Ah hope that's all it is," said Frank. "Ah don' much care for that supernatural mumbo-jumbo. Why don't you come on inside and I'll give y'all the tour."

Fred, Velma and Daphne strode in. "Come on, you chickens," Velma shouted to the Mystery Machine. Shaggy and Scooby exited the van, squawking and flapping. "What hams."

Once inside the shack, Mystery Incorporated admired the decor: alligator pelts, tribal-looking masks and tacky Florida souvenirs littered the inside. Velma ambled over to a makeshift desk littered with papers. She sifted through a stack of envelopes, all marked with FINAL NOTICE. "Hmmmm…"

"My swamp tours took a real jump in business when they built that new highway; the one you all came in on. It goes right past my old shack. Ah couldn't keep up the pace for a while. But now that this monster business is scarin' away all my customers, I might just lose the old place."

"It would be a blessing," interrupted a shrill female voice. Mystery Incorporated turned to see a tall woman, dressed in a black business suit, darkening the door. "Then you'd have to sell. And then I could expand Mariawood, two floors of luxury shopping, dining and gambling!"

Frank turned to face the woman, weariness etched on every line of his face. "Maria. This swamp will never be yours. No ghost or monster is EVER going to make me sell!" he exclaimed.

"We'll just see about that," Maria spat. She tossed her ebony hair, turned on her high heels and clopped away.

As the sound of Maria's heels faded, Velma turned to Frank, who had collapsed into a chair. "Who was that?"

"Maria Webb. She's a local businesswoman. She's wanted to buy this land from me for years so she can expand her precious Mariawood mall. But enough about her. You need to meet my monster."

"Ronster!" shouted Scooby. "Ruh-uh. Roooo Ray!"

"Like I'm with Scooby on this one," Shaggy chorused. "There's no way I'm goin' in that spooky swamp with that gooney ghoulie on the loose." A quick bribe with some Scooby Snacks and the pair reluctantly boarded the airboat.

Frank started up the engine and strapped a strange device to his forehead; a disc-shaped light attached to an elastic strap. "What's that for, Mr. Jenkins?" Fred asked, indicating the device.

"It's a headlamp, son," Frank answered, flipping the light on for demonstration. "Just something that gives some light. The swamp can get pretty dark, after all."

As the fan's blades turned, the wind bounded them along the surface of the murky water. "So what's been happening during your tours?" Daphne shouted over the fan's turbines.

"Well, darlin'," Frank began, "They start out jus' fine, I take 'em round the swamp for a while. Then I've got this cave up there in the swamp. Ah take 'em up through that an' then there it is. Horrid and scaly, snarlin' and roarin' it is. And then it chases after us, intent on makin' us its next meal."

"Jeepers," Daphne shivered. "Sounds awful!"

"You'll see for yourself in a few," Frank replied. "Here's the cave now."

He flipped on his headlamp and steered the boat into the mouth of the cave. Frank's headlamp gave off a feeble glow, illuminating the waters ahead.

As the boat rounded a bend in the cave, the headlamp illuminated the creature standing on a small strip of land. Its eyes glowed malevolently in the near-darkness. Shaggy recoiled in horror, accidentally dropping the box of Scooby Snacks into the murky sludge.

"Jinkies!" Velma exclaimed. "It is real!"

The beast stood up to its full height, waving its arms and growling threateningly, showing razor-sharp teeth. The beast dived into the water and gave chase. "Hurry, Frank," Fred gasped. "It's going to try to swamp us!"

"I'm hurrying! But this boat don't turn on a dime!"

The boat managed to outrace the swamp monster to land safely back at the pier. The gang and Frank disembarked, still shaken from their ghostly encounter.

"That…thing…was horrifying!" Daphne gasped.

"That blasted beast has scared off every tour guest," Frank complained. "Can you kids help?"

Shaggy and Scooby motioned refusal, but Mystery Incorporated agreed to take the case.

"Do you know of anyone who would want to do this to you?" Daphne asked.

"Maria Webb, the woman you met earlier. She'd do just about anything to get me to sell my swamp. You also may want to talk to Brock Knight down the road,"

"Brock Knight?" Velma questioned.

"He's one of my old pals from college. He started up a swamp tour as well, so you can see if he's having trouble with the creature. He's a bit off the main road, though; the new highway they built just missed him."

"Well, let's split up, gang," Fred announced. "Shaggy, you and Scooby go talk to Brock. Me and the girls will go deal with Ms. Webb."

"Like, anything to get away from that spooky swamp specter," Shaggy said as he and Scooby piled into the Mystery Machine.