"This is taking forever," Shaggy whined. "Why'd we have to leave the Mystery Machine behind?"
Velma pulled the binoculars from her face and gave Shaggy an annoyed look.
"I've explained two times already," she said in the tone of a teacher dealing with a particularly troublesome student. "If we drove up to the site in the Mystery Machine, Lillard would know we were here, and would be on guard."
"Well sure," Shaggy said, "but, like, I left a big bag of chips in the van. Can you imagine a worse fate for chips than to be left un-eaten? It must be so sad for them, you know?"
Velma rolled her eyes and put the binoculars up to her face again.
"I mean," Shaggy continued, "imagine being made for the sole purpose of consumption. Like, it's gotta be a fulfilment of purpose to be eaten, right?"
"Shaggy," Velma said patiently, "what on earth are you talking about?"
"Well, the way I see it, it's got to be some kind of catharsis to be eaten, right? In the same way that some lunatics are, like, chomping at the bit to go die in a war. Do you think Doritos are excited to be eaten?"
"Lots of people dodged the draft, Shag."
"Huh," Shaggy remarked. He thought on that point for a moment. "Maybe that's where pistachios factor in. Like, there's no good way to eat those suckers; maybe it's because they don't want to be eaten? Like, if they were draft dodgers-"
"Shaggy!" Velma said in a fraught whisper. "Quiet! I see something!"
Shaggy rolled onto his stomach and crawled up close next to Velma. The bush they were sitting in was a few hundred feet from Lillard's trailer and they had a clear view of the door. It was the only way in or out of the trailer, and they'd been watching it in shifts for nearly half an hour.
"Like, the door is opening!" Shaggy whispered. Velma adjusted the sights on her binoculars and peered closer.
Lillard emerged, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie jammed into his breast pocket. He shut the door behind him, locking it with a key from his pocket. His dirty glasses reflected the light that shone from the single streetlamp in the parking lot. He stood outside the trailer for a few moments, as though waiting for something. He looked left, right, and left again, his movements furtive as though he were hiding something.
"What's he doing?" Shaggy whispered, unable to get a clear look.
"I don't know," Velma answered. "It's like he's making sure no one is around. I wonder… I wonder if he's about to change into costume."
"Look, he's taking off his glasses!" Shaggy said, excitedly. "I think this might be it - the moment we catch him in the act!"
Lillard took off his glasses and stuffed them rather roughly into a front pocket in his pants. Then, with a tired look on his weathered face, took out a large rag from a back pocket - it looked like it had once been white but was now smeared with various shades of gray.
"What's he doing?" Shaggy asked, but Velma could only shake her head.
The two watched as Lillard, not knowing he was being observed, began to wipe his face down with the rag. He went at it rather roughly, with vigor, as though scrubbing his face clean of something.
"Jinkies," Velma said under her breath as Lillard pulled the rag from face.
Standing in front of the trailer was not Matt Lillard but a middle-aged man that neither Shaggy nor Velma had ever seen before. He had Lillard's frame and height, sure, but the weathered face was completely gone. In its face was a fresh, younger face free of wrinkles.
"Like, no way," Shaggy whispered. "What's going on?"
As they watched, the man they knew as Lillard stretched and yawned. He rubbed his back for a moment then began marching towards the parking lot with a swagger that would have been completely unbecoming on Lillard just a few moments before. They watched as he hopped into his car, revved the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.
Shaggy and Velma shared a long, silent look of bewilderment with each other.
"Okay," Shaggy said, breaking the silence, "that was definitely not what I expected."
"You're not kidding," Velma agreed. Her eyes were wide and Shaggy could practically see the gears turning in her head, though it was clear that her train of thought wasn't taking her to a foreseeable destination.
"We're missing something. We're missing something big." She looked at Shaggy, a look of blazing determination flaring in her eyes. "Let's go - if we're ever going to get into his trailer, this is the time."
"Right," Shaggy nodded. "Like, let's make like a shoe and break in."
The duo inched their way to the trailer, sticking to shadows as best they could. Years of practice helped Shaggy roll the balls of his feet as he moved, each step easing him forward a few feet at a time in near total silence. Velma followed close behind, her movements not quite as graceful - but then again, she was wearing flats, not sneakers.
The silence was was oppressive as Velma stepped in front of the door. She took out a small, thin instrument out of her thigh-strap utility belt and stuck it in the door. Then, she took out another L-shaped metal device and began working at the lock. Shaggy wasn't sure what was happening, not having ever seen this in real life before.
A minute passed, then another. Velma swore under her breath and seemed to take her hands off the lock for a moment.
"What's-" Shaggy began, but Velma shushed him and immediately got back to work.
Another minute, then another after that. Velma's forehead began to shine with a tiny glimmer of sweat. The wait was torture, and Shaggy kept imagining he'd heard a footstep from somewhere behind him, causing him to jerk about spastically to check for any onlookers.
Finally, after several worrying minutes of tiny clicking noises, Velma sighed with relief. Twisting her tools, she eased the lock open. There was a loud click as the door to the trailer came unlocked and popped open.
"Zoinks," Shaggy said, in awe. "That was… impressive."
"Thanks," Velma said, with a grin on her face. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and stuffed her metal tools back into a pouch on the belt. "Sorry it took so long. I've only ever lock picked theoretically."
"Theor- what?" Shaggy said, astonished. "You mean you'd never actually tried before?"
Velma shook her head, still grinning. "Nope. Not bad, right?"
Shaggy's mouth fell open. "Whoa," was all he managed to say.
The duo quickly slipped inside the trailer. As they closed the door behind them, the room fell into complete darkness - there were no windows on the trailer. Velma quickly took out her flashlight and clicked it on.
They stood next to the couch they'd both been sitting on a day ago, next to the stack of magazines. The only other feature in this small room was the door that lead further into the office, which Shaggy had seen Lillard go into the day before.
"Right," he said, and stepped over to the door. Pleasantly, it was unlocked, and opened immediately. Velma hurried behind him and began sweeping the room with the flashlight.
It only took a few seconds for them to realize something was very wrong. The room was nearly empty - totally barren except for a desk, a chair, and a single filing cabinet. The office showed almost no signs of use - nothing hanging on the walls, nothing cluttering up the desk, and a thick layer of dust on top of the filing cabinet. A single hard hat sat by the door, unscuffed and unworn.
"What the…" Shaggy muttered, his confusion mounting with every moment.
"Say," Velma said, "did Lillard ever say what his job was?"
The question came as a surprise.
"Of course he did," Shaggy said, unconfidently. "I mean, he must have. Right?"
Velma's brows knitted together furiously as she thought.
"I can't recall," she said. "I think he said he as a contractor."
"Yeah," Shaggy said, recalling suddenly. "He said he was a contractor when he dialed me the other day."
"But Big Jack runs the work crew, not him," she countered. "So, what does he do?"
"Maybe he's a supervisor or a manager?" Shaggy suggested.
Velma shook her head.
"Do you think a man with Lillard's ego would fail to mention that sort of thing?"
Shaggy had to admit, she had a point. Lillard seemed like the kind of person to flaunt and abuse any power he could get his hands on. But then again, Shaggy had the unsettling feeling that he didn't know Lillard at all.
"I don't know," he answered. "Let's search the room and figure this out."
"Right," Velma agreed.
It didn't take long for the pair to finish their search. The room was nearly empty, after all, and there was nothing under the hard hat by the door. The filing cabinet was empty, save for a small gray spider in the bottom drawer that made Shaggy jump as it skittered away from him. Their search otherwise concluded, both Shaggy and Velma made their way to the desk.
Two sliding drawers were on the right side of the desk, and it was otherwise completely barren. Shaggy stared at Velma, who returned his look. She bent down and put her hand on the drawer handle.
"Unlocked," she said. "Good."
"Alright," Shaggy said, "you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," she answered.
"Let's do it."