"What do we do?" Velma whispered.
Shaggy raced out of Lillard's office and into the room with the couch.
"Like, get ready to rush," Shaggy answered, getting down on one knee like a sprinter on his starting blocks.
"Shaggy, I-" she began, but he cut her off.
"Now or never, man! Get over here!"
Velma gawked for a moment then regained her composure. She stepped over to Shaggy and got down next to him.
The following few moments were enough to chill Shaggy's blood. The sound of footsteps approached closer, each step slightly louder than the last. There was gravel underfoot just outside the parking lot, and Shaggy swore he could hear each individual stone crunch against the boots of whoever was walking up to the door. He chanced a look at Velma to find her making a worried expression that mirrored his own.
Whoever was out there made it just outside the door. The footsteps stopped at the edge of the trailer, and there was a jingling of keys. Shaggy heard the key slide into the lock and rattle as it turned. There was a pop as the lock opened.
Then, silence. Ten entire seconds of silence. Shaggy heard the blood pounding in his own ears. His breath seemed as loud as a jet engine.
C'mon, he thought. C'mon, do it. Do it!
The door began to open. Slowly at first, then speeding up. Standing in the doorframe was a silhouette of a caped figure, a scarf covering its shadowed face. A wide-brimmed hat adorned its head, casting an eerie umbrage over the room.
The Phantom looked down, and Shaggy swore for a moment he saw its eyes go wide. His heart caught in his throat, and his muscles tensed involuntarily. Still, there was only one thing to do.
"Now!" Shaggy screamed, and both he and Velma barreled into the Phantom.
Perhaps stunned by the surprise attack, the Phantom tumbled over backwards and rolled on the ground with Shaggy. With a snarl, it kicked away from him as fast as it could. Velma rolled to one side and got to her feet next to Shaggy, who was trying to push himself away from the cloaked figure. With both feet, he kicked away and scrambled to his feet.
Velma reached into her utility belt and grabbed her handgun, quickly leveling it at the Phantom.
"Stop right there!" she shouted, pulling back the hammer. "Don't move an inch, or I'll shoot!"
The mass of cloth and body on the ground ignored her warning, and began staggering to its feet. It clutched its hat to its head, pulling it down over its eyes to obscure its face. Slowly, shakily, it raised a hand in the air and waved it back and forth. With an eerie wail, it began to speak.
"You foooools," it hissed, its voice high and warbling. "You will soon regret your actions when I, the Phantom of the Fair, begin my-"
Shaggy punched it as hard as he could. He landed a hook square in the Phantom's stomach, causing it to stagger back and bend over sideways. The Phantom, perhaps running on instinct, reached out with one gangly hand and tried to swipe at him. Shaggy bobbed left and crossed it up with a jab, landing the blow on the side of its head. He bounced backwards, fists in the air, as the Phantom wheezed and staggered backwards.
"Gimmie my dog back!" he shouted, voice hoarse with anger.
Velma stared at Shaggy, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.
"Wow," she murmured. "What on earth was that?"
"Boxing class," Shaggy said, breathing heavy. "Once a week. Gotta, like, defend myself somehow."
"That's incredible," she said, looking him up and down with an obvious re-evaluation. "So, you're pretty strong, now?"
The Phantom spat on the ground, leaving a small red patch in the dirt.
"Youuuu will paaaaaaayyyyy," it wailed, and grabbed something from inside its long, flowing cape.
"Uh, to answer your question," Shaggy said, as the Phantom returned to its full upright position looking little worse for wear, "No. No, I'm not."
"Shaggy, get down!" Velma shouted as the figure made a sudden movement. There was a bright flash of light, bright as the sun, and the sound of a gunshot. Shaggy fell backwards and put a hand over his eyes, his vision gone completely white.
"Aaaauh!" he heard Velma scream as he tumbled backwards onto the ground. He rubbed at his eyes, desperately trying to see anything but white milky blotches. After many long seconds of holding his hands to his face and being absolutely ruined by the pain in his eyes, he started to make out shapes around him.
"Velma?" he called out, his voice sounding faint and distant.
"Shaggy?" she called back, sounding even further away. He could make out something moving a few feet from him, and crawled over.
"What happened?" he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the pounding in his eardrums.
"Flashbang!" Velma said. "He got us with a flashbang!"
"Did I hear a gunshot?"
"I fired," Velma shouted back, "but I don't think I hit him. Or if I did, I only winged him. I- oh, my head!"
Shaggy didn't have to ask what she meant. His head was spinning as though he'd just been punched in the eye. Actually, it felt a lot like he had been punched in the eye, come to think of it.
There was a pressure in his eardrums that made him feel like he'd just dropped to the bottom of the ocean. Still, he was here, and he was going to do his job. He looked around himself as best he could, trying to spot any trace of his assailant. However, the Phantom appeared to have scampered off somewhere.
"Dang," he said, mostly to himself. "We lost him again. And Scoob with him."
He turned back to Velma, who had pulled herself upright.
"You okay, Velm?"
Velma stuck a pinky in one ear, trying to clear it out.
"I'm not sure," she said, speaking far too loudly. "My head is spinning from that flashbang. I think I can walk, but-"
She tried to get up, but almost immediately staggered sideways and fell, catching herself at the last moment with her hands. Shaggy immediately ran over and took her arm, helping her to her feet.
"Like, let's get you out of here," he said, solemnly. "I don't think there's anything else we can do here tonight."
To his surprise, a tear rolled down Velma's face.
"What's up?" he asked gently, noticing for the first time how hard Velma was trying not to cry.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I just- God, for a moment there, when I pulled the trigger, it was right after the flash went off, and my hand jerked to the side, and, and-"
She sobbed and hugged him, burying her face in his chest.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, muffled by his shirt. "I thought I hurt you."
"I'm okay," he said, putting a hand around her waist. "Eyes and ears aside, I'm fine."
"Thank God," she said. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you too."
He hugged her tightly.
"I know exactly what you mean," he said.
For the second time in as many nights, the pair held each other close. Whatever they said was theirs alone; the stars above would tell no secrets.