AUTHOR NOTE: Hey, guys! I really have to thank iamacliche for such a kind and helpful review! Also, thank you, iamacliche, for such a kind endorsement on your Tumblr! I really appreciate it! So, this chapter doesn't really focus on the plot as much because I'm writing from Shaggy's POV as well as Velma's. It was a bit of a challenge thinking about Shaggy's POV, so hopefully, I captured his character well. Without further ado, enjoy!

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CHAPTER 2

"Like, that was easier than I thought. Huh, Scoob?"

"Yeah, Raggy! Much easier!"

It took me a lot, and I mean a lot, of courage to ask Velma to build a machine like that again. Sheesh! I mean, Jesus man, the consequences of that other multiverse thingy literally killed a Fred and a Daphne from another universe! You could say that she nearly destroyed multiple worlds with that box. Not like I hate her or anything. Just sayin' the truth.

"Ri did you grab Relma's hand, Raggy?" Scooby asks me again.

"Huh?"

"You grabbed Relma's hand when you rasked her to build the rachine!"

"Oh. You're right, Scooby. Like, I dunno why. What do you think?"

Scooby smiles the kind of smile which tells you something ain't right. "You riiiike her!"

"Like, shut up, man! I don't, like, like anybody!" I scooch away from Scooby.

"Radmit it!" Scooby says back.

"Jeez! You're, like, sounding like Connor now."

"Raybe 'cause I mean it!"

"Like, go away, Scoob. I'm hungry. I'm, like, gonna go to the kitchen and see what Mom's up to."

"Rokay, Raggy. Sorry."

"Nah. Like, it's okay, Scoob. We should, like, try to get some more trophies in Detroit after I come back. 'Kay?"

"Rokay, Raggy!" I leave Scooby there and head to the kitchen. I sigh. Since we moved to this new house, Mom and Dad said that Scooby couldn't eat with us anymore. I mean, they still let Scooby eat regular food and all, but like, c'mon, man! Don't they understand that Scooby gets lonely sometimes? Ah, well. My parents are pretty groovy people. Guess they don't really want dog fur on the new table, huh? I walk into the kitchen and creep up behind Mom.

"Hey, Mom!"

Mom jumps up a little. "Ah!" She turns around and faces me. "Shaggy, jeez, you scared me!"

"Like, when's Maggie comin' back? She left, like, three hours ago!"

"She called and said she'd be staying over at Angela's. And, please, try to use 'like' less. It makes you sound like you have a limited vocabulary, even though you don't."

"Sorry, Mom."

"It's okay, Shaggy. I'm just asking you because your assignments and essays make you sound like a totally different person. I know you're intelligent inside, but not everyone can see that." I see Mom stirring something in a pot.

"I know. It's just, like, that's how I normally talk."

"Only since ninth grade, mind you."

I sigh. There's no use making her understand. I dunno, but I kinda got into a permanent hippy phase when I started high school. Neither of my parents like that, nor does Maggie, my little sister. Mom's nicer about it, though.

"Like, what'cha cookin', Mom?"

"Lamb stew. Wanna help?"

"Oh, do I! Like, whaddya need?"

"Just make a salad and saute some veggies. I know I can trust you when it comes to cooking." Mom winks at me.

I smile proudly as I hurry to the fridge. I get out all the delicious salad greens and some eggplants.

"Shaggy, could you make the couscous as well?"

"Like, sure thing, Mom!" Mom always asks for help around the kitchen for dinner. Guess I have credit now I'm going to that Escoffier dude's school in Austin, only the best culinary school in the world. Y'know, I'm gonna miss the gang when high school's over. Velma (of course) is going to CalTech, Fred's going to the University of Maryland, and Daphne is going to the Aveda Institute. Honestly, man, I won't be surprised if Daphne ends up as the CEO behind a brand similar to Gucci or something. Seriously, man, did I tell you how I'm gonna miss the guys here? Better solve mysteries when we can.

I start washing the salad greens and think about what it would be like to meet Connor. Oh, and Hank, too! Hank kinda has a sucky attitude about life, though, 'cause his son died. Plays Russian roulette whenever he has the chance to. I love Sumo, though. He's pretty groovy. Tell you what, man, Scooby and Sumo would get along so well! I take the last tomatoes out from under the faucet and start cutting them.

I think about what Scooby said. I can't like Velma! No way, man! I haven't liked anybody since, I dunno, seventh grade? I didn't even ask that girl out! In other words, I'm still single. And it'd be pretty groovy if I could keep it that way! Don't wanna embarrass myself by declaring those bogus feelings I have for Velma. She probably doesn't even like me back, for all I care! Wait. Damn it. I just admitted my feelings out loud in my brain for all of my brain cells to hear. That's what knowing how to think brings you, man. Damn it, thoughts! Couldn't you keep quiet for once and cut the veggies like any old guy who's helping his mom with dinner and is friends with a smart girl he probably likes? I guess not. Not like I'm gonna say anything to her, though. Velma's probably into guys who're as smart as her, and will I ever be as smart as her? Hell, no. So, I'll just save myself the embarrassment, man. Thanks.

I find myself out of my thoughts and focus myself on actually making some good side dishes. I put the vinaigrette dressing into the mix and toss the salad. Then, I cut up the eggplants and saute them like Mom asked. I plate the veggies and grab the couscous from the pantry. I fill a small pot with water and put the spices and salt in it. I measure the couscous and pour it in. I cover the lid and let it sit.

"All done, Mom," I say.

"Good, Shaggy. Just set the table. Dad'll be home soon."

I get three plates from the cabinet and set the table, like Mom asked and put the forks and knives on the table. I take the salad bowl and the eggplants and set them on either side. I check that the couscous is plump. When the couscous is fully cooked, I pour it into a bowl and put it on the table. Then, I start heading back to my room.

"Shaggy? Where are you going?" Mom asks. "Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes!"

"Call me when it is, Mom." I reply sharply, feeling angry for some odd reason. Before I get to my room, though, I grab a sandwich from the fridge for Scooby.

I open the door. "Scooby, got'cha a sandwich. It's a BLT from yesterday."

"Ranks, Raggy!" Scooby replies, way too happy. I throw him the sandwich, and he gulps it in one go. I fall onto my bed and stare at the fan spinning in circles above me.

"Rat's wrong, Raggy?" Scooby asks.

"Nothing, Scoob." I continue staring at that hypnotic fan.

"Raggy, ri row there's somethi-"

"Shut up, Scoob! I'm not in the mood!" I hear a whimper, and I instantly feel terrible. I get up and face Scooby.

"Like, sorry, pal," I apologize softly. I wrap my arm around him. "It's just, like, I can't believe that I like Velma, y'know?" I sigh.

"Ron't worry, Raggy. She must rike you, too," Scooby replies.

"Nah, man. Like, I'm too dumb for her. She's probably, like, smart enough to not like me." I laugh. "Let's just, like, forget about it! 'Kay?"

Scooby huffs. "Ras if you're forgetting about it ranytime roon."

My head whips around to look at Scooby. "Since when did you, like, get so much sass, Scoob?"

"Rince forever, Raggy."

"Shaggy!" I hear Mom call. "Dinner's ready!"

"Like, comin' Mom!" I reply.

XXXXX

I slam the beeping noise shut. Then, I open my eyes, ready for another Monday. It's 6:45 AM. I wish I didn't have Mystery Machine driving duties, man! This is way too early to wake up!

"Morning, Raggy!" Scooby calls.

"Mornin', Scoob. Man, am I hungry!"

"You're always rungry, Raggy."

"Like, quit the sass, Scoob! It doesn't, like, suit you."

"Sorry, Raggy."

"It's okay. C'mon. Like, let's see what Mom's cooked this mornin'."

I get myself outta bed, and then I put on a gray Beatles tee and my brown bell bottoms. I decide to wear my sneakers today, 'cause why not, man? They're pretty groovy to me.

I get my backpack from my chair and check if all my supplies and homework are there. Government? Check. Astronomy? Check. Algebra? Check. Chemistry? Check. French? Check. Health? Check. I slip my bag onto my back. Y'know, Ohio makes it hard to graduate high school, man! So many subjects, different kinds of science, two kinds of government, you name it! I bet other states in this country have it easy compared to us. The OGT test and OAT tests were super difficult, y'know! Thank God we didn't have a test last year. We don't this year, either. I mean, I passed all of 'em. Got commended once or twice. That's all.

I head towards the kitchen and see that there's some pancakes stacked up on the table.

"Good morning, Shaggy!" Dad calls.

"Hey, Shaggy," Mom says.

"Mmm, pancakes! Hey, shouldn't Maggie be, like, back by now?" I ask.

"She's carpooling with Angela. Won't see her until school," Dad replies. I sigh. Then, I feel that same, weird anger that keeps nipping at me like an annoying chihuahua. Why? I push the thought away and get twelve pancakes on my plate. Then, I slather it all with some delicious maple syrup, and I dig in.

"Mom, your pancakes are, like, super groovy! Thanks!" I say. They really are groovy. Soon, I finish my pancakes, and I grab the keys to the Mystery Machine.

"Bye Mom, bye Dad! Bye, Scooby!" I call out.

"Bye, Raggy!" Scooby says.

"Bye, honey," Mom says.

"Bye, son," Dad says.

It's hard eating breakfast so quickly and acting like a school bus driver every mornin', man! You see, in our last mystery, Fred ended up breaking his arm after trying to protect Daphne from the ghost of Robert E. Lee. He actually ended up being the local technician wanting revenge on his history teacher. Who knew?

I get in the driver's seat and turn it on. Then, I pull out the driveway and start heading to Fred's house. The only reason why I can drive this thing is because I, with Fred, legally own it.

I get to Fred's house and honk the horn twice. I see Fred walk out of the house with his backpack. He gets inside the car.

"Like, hey, Fred! Like, how's that arm doin'?" He buckles his seatbelt, and I start heading to Velma's house.

"Just fine, Shaggy. Did you get the homework done?"

"Yeah, but it was, like, super difficult, man! Those chemistry equations, sheesh! How're you, like, supposed to balance the two when they, like, look totally the same?"

"I know, right? Maybe Velma can answer that for you! She'd calculate it in a breeze!"

Like, yeah, man. She would, I think to myself. I reach Velma's house, and I do the double-honk again.

I see Velma speed-walk towards our van, and I can't help but smile, man. She looks so cute — I mean, nice, with her glasses and her new style. I mean, I kinda preferred her with that cute — I mean, nice, turtleneck. But Daphne's influence has gotten to her, man. She just doesn't look the same with an orange top and jeans. Nope. She doesn't look the same, man.

"Hey, Velma!" Fred says.

"Like, hey, man!" I say.

"Hi, Fred! Hi, Shaggy!" Velma replies. "Oh, Fred, do you think I could sit in the middle? It'll be easier for you to get out with that broken arm, anyways, when we get to school."

"Sure, Velma!" Fred and Velma switch places, and I start feeling...what? Butterflies? Is that what they call it? Yeah. Butterflies. I swear, man, our places in the Mystery Machine are all cooky now! I mean, now Daphne's gonna be in the back! Don't think she'll like that very much. I start heading to Daphne's big-as-hell mansion. Always liked lookin' at that house, y'know? Thinkin' about all that food that could be cookin' in there...talk about groovy, man!

"So?" I ask Velma. "Like, how're you gonna work on this thing?"

"Well, I formulated a method to how I can start working on the blueprints. But, it'll take, at most, about two weeks to develop."

"Like, I can wait. Could, I, like, go with you and, like, help you out with it?"

"Sure! That'll definitely reduce the development time! Thank you so much, Shaggy!"

"Well, of course I would, like, help you out! That's what friends are, like, for, right?"

Velma smiles. "Right."

I see that huge mansion ahead, and I turn into the driveway road thingy. I do the double-honk. I see Daphne running out the house with her knapsack thing. She doesn't like carrying a backpack, because, "It doesn't look too fashionable with anything but a t-shirt," in her words. Man, that girl can be picky! I guess that's why I like Velma. She's...normal. Yeah. Normal. Doesn't really care what others think 'cause she's too smart to. I mean, Daphne doesn't, either, but I'm not into fashionistas, man. Fred has her already. When Daphne reaches the van, Fred rolls down the window.

"Daph, you're gonna have to sit in the back today," Fred says.

"Oh, it's fine!" Daphne replies. At least she's not arrogant like the other rich kids around here. In my opinion, Daphne's pretty down-to-earth. Or else she wouldn't be in the mystery gang, I'm guessing. I check the radio clock. It's 7:45.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. I only have fifteen minutes to get these guys to school! Damn it! I start driving above the speed limit 'cause Daphne's house is, like, 20 minutes away from school! I tell you, man, Fred's way better at this job than I am.

Once I manage to not crash the van and get to school on time, I sigh. I turn off the ignition and get out of the Mystery Machine.

Fred comes up to me and claps his good hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, Shag. You're driving is pretty damn good, actually. Maybe you should drive more often."

"Nah, man, Like, you're better at this job than I am. At least I didn't get you guys, like, tardy again."

Fred laughs. "It's okay, Shaggy. You're new to this. Just two more weeks, and you'll be in the back again. Don't worry."

"Like, all right. I won't worry." I hurry to catch up with Velma, and I head inside.