Tales of a Plush Dog
So, after all is said and done, there is but one last story to tell. No need to be coy now, dear reader, I know what you want to hear – who is Scooby Doo? Where did he come from? What's his story? Heh…fine. Gather 'round and I'll tell you just who this old dog is.
Now, I've told you before that I grew up in an orphanage, but how does one get to an orphanage? I was young when it happened. My parents were very well-to-do – made their fortune selling stock after the war. Their riches made them big players in New York, and they attracted all kinds of attention from people who wanted funding. One such person was Kaiser Wilhelm von Shakespeurtin III. Trying to build up his support base before he put his master plan into action, Shakespeurtin made deals with the rich and powerful from all over the world. Unfortunately, my family fit that description perfectly.
The Kaiser met with my parents; revealed his history, his abilities, and his plan to them. When my father refused to be a part of the plan, Shakespeurtin did the unthinkable – he killed them…killed them both in cold blood. Not only did he steal their lives, but also their wallets – their bank accounts were drained suddenly and silently.
Where was I in all this, you may ask? I was right there, with my parents. I watched them die…The Kaiser directed his cold smile at me, and stared his deathless eyes into mine. I'll never forget those eyes…it was like they belonged to another person; reflecting all the ages of hatred and anger that had punctuated the Kaiser's long life. They were the cage that held the beast – a beast whose ferocity and malice towards all who stand against him would one day bring the world to the brink of destruction. Why did the Kaiser spare me? It wasn't compassion or regret; no…this man wanted me to keep on living, to suffer for the decision of my father.
Shakespeurtin sent me to an orphanage across the sea in Australia – the most remote place in western society you could possibly send a plush dog. I introduced myself as Scoobert Doo (my full name), but everyone just called me Scooby. After so many years living there, the name just kind of stuck. Times were tough, but it wasn't all bad. Thanks to my friendship with Britty and the other kids at the orphanage who knew nothing of my background, I could hide from my past – pretend that I was someone else. I grew up and lead a normal life – at least, as normal a life as an orphan plush dog can lead.
Earlier in this tale, I told you dear reader that Britty was the one that convinced me to form the rebellion. Well…that's only partly true. Saving the world was all fine and dandy, but what I really wanted was revenge – for my parents…and for the life I lost that day. I was young, short-sighted and terribly foolish. That decision may have saved the world, but it also cost me the closest thing to family I had left.
Mine is a truly ironic story. If my parents hadn't opposed Shakespeurtin, I would have led a life of wealth and privilege, and might have worked for the Kaiser's regime. What if I had been the one to pull the trigger which killed Britty and so many other rebels that, in this reality, I called friends? And what if I had not formed the rebellion? Would the world have been saved by another? Or would the Kaiser have continued to rule the dystopian wasteland he called an empire? I wonder…oh how I wonder, dear reader…
…Has my life ever truly been mine to lead?
