Notes: Thank you all for your reviewing/favouriting/following/reading! A girl does appreciate these things. Anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter four! Au revoir, my lovelies.

Chapter Four – Mac and Cheese

Shaggy and Scooby booked into a modest motel not too far away from the Fluorites' house. Shaggy plonked down onto the single bed while his dog curled up at the foot of the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the lazy fan go round, and round, and round, and round…

It was driving him crazy! He pushed himself off the bed and flicked the switch. The fan came to a halt and Shaggy, satisfied, lay back down on the bed.

He decided that he needed sleep. They say that everything looks better in the morning. His reasoning for this was that if you'd had a bad night, other people would take pity on you, and tended to make sure you woke up with a decent-sized breakfast in bed (Of course, this didn't happen if you were drunk, because you just woke up to a throbbing head and delicate senses). But he knew that this wouldn't happen. Although he couldn't help himself thinking of the gorgeously crisp bacon, the juicy tomato, the crunchy hash brown…

Shaggy was drifting in and out of sleep, apparently unaware that he was drooling heavily.

Scooby, on the other hand, was worrying profusely, contrary to his usual nature. He could tell, in his small doggy-dog brain, that this was big. Beyond anything, this was weird. Not that they didn't face weird things daily, being part of Mystery Inc. and all. But Fred, Velma and Daphne had always been there to make sure they were safe. Suddenly, he felt very distant from them; so close, yet so far away.

The next morning, at cockerel's wake (which was rather odd, since the village had never had a cockerel), the pair rose to the first rays of sun bursting through the pathetically thin curtain. Shaggy was depressed, although not overly surprised, that there was no breakfast in bed.

Much to his delight he discovered compensation; a tiny bar fridge that sat sadly in the corner of the kitchenette. Inside was a jug of milk, a jug of water, two frozen mac and cheeses and some butter. He shrugged. It was a start.

Meanwhile, Scooby had found the supply cupboard stocked with assorted teas, chocolates, and several items of cutlery and crockery. He ripped open a teabag with his claw and tipped it upside down to let it shower into his mouth.

Shaggy looked on in equal parts of confusion and excitement at the frozen pasta. There were instructions…

"Hey, Scoob, how do you recon we make this edible? Scoob?"

Scooby was still spitting out the last of the tealeaves into the rubbish bin. He rinsed his mouth out with the jug of water before padding over to Shaggy. "Rac an reese!"

"Well, like, it's not mac and cheese yet, just a chunk of ice," Shaggy informed him. The dog's ears drooped. Shaggy picked up the handset next to the bed. "Room service? Yes, uh, we'd like to know how to use the mac-an-cheese thing, it seems to be frozen." He paused and Scooby listened intently. "Uh huh. Uh, right, we can like handle that. Yeah. Thanks!" he hung up, shrugging at Scooby.

"It can't be that hard, right Scoob?"

"Right!"

Shaggy watched on as the manager was taken away in an ambulance. He looked up at the towering pillars of fire that had engulfed the motel not that long after their microwave had exploded. He turned to his canine companion.

"Like, promise me one thing, Scoob?"

"Ranyfing, Raggy!"

"Let's not have mac and cheese ever again, alright?"

"Rever."

"Good. Well, like, let's find a new hotel."

"Right."

But all the motels and hotels and all other assortment of accommodation there were in the area had mysteriously closed. So the duo was forced to find shelter somewhere else. Namely, in the Fluorites' garage.

"It's like, creepy in here, Scoob," Shaggy complained.

"Reepy…" Scooby echoed.

"Ow! And there's a mop… it's sticking into me!"

And so Shaggy and Scooby spent the rest of the night in a dark garage that smelled of petrol. At least Shaggy hoped it was petrol.