The fairgrounds were in a state of confusion as they arrived on the scene that morning. Workers were sitting around listlessly, some even lying down on the ground with their arms behind their heads. One was tossing a beer to another out of the back of a pickup truck, and several were standing nearby blasting loud music from their radio.
"This seems a bit unprofessional," Velma remarked as they got out of the Mystery Machine.
"Like, they seem pretty chill today," Shaggy agreed. "I wonder what's gotten into them?"
The answer came trundling up to them in the form of a grumbling, pissed-off Jack. Shaggy and Velma spotted his huge form standing head and shoulders above the crowd around him. They could also see the scowl that gripped his face.
"You two! Investigators!" he bellowed from across the parking lot. "Get over here, now!"
Shaggy and Velma shared a look, a shrug, and walked over.
"Like, what's happening, man?" Shaggy asked.
"Come with me," he said, and abruptly walked off.
"Sheesh," Shaggy whispered, "I wouldn't want to be in his way today."
"You said it, Shag," Velma said.
They followed the large man over to a mostly-finished outdoor stage. It was a large wooden platform raised about a foot off the ground and had a large back wall that stuck up about ten feet in the air. It didn't take much to figure out what had made Big Jack so mad.
"You're all doomed," Velma said, reading the crimson words painted on the backdrop. "Leave this place or suffer the fate of Lillard."
The paint was red as blood and covered up what had once been a pleasant and well-detailed painting of a farm, replete with all manner of animal and plant life. It looked like at least a week's effort had been wasted by the crude red graffiti.
"Zoinks, man, that's creepy," Shaggy said. He turned to Jack. "Like, what did Lillard say about it?"
"That's just it," Jack said, his voice stern and low. "Lillard's been missing. No one can get in touch wit' him. His trailer's locked, and we tried banging on it fer half an hour, but no dice. We even checked the port-a-john, made sure he didn't fall in."
Velma made a face. "Yuck. So, he's just gone?"
"Yup," Jack said. "Weirdest part, though - I don't know if you saw this on your way in, but his car is here."
Shaggy felt the hair on his neck stand on end; that was a red flag if ever he'd heard one.
"Sounds like the Phantom's up to something," he said, frowning. "But why kidnap Lillard?"
Jack's eyes shot open wide.
"You think he was kidnapped?" Jack asked, incredulous. "Who the hell'd wanna kidnap that old jerk?"
Velma and Shaggy met eyes, each one wondering how much to tell Jack. Jack didn't miss it - he immediately stepped closer and towered over both of them.
"You two know something," he said, crossing his arms. "Something you're not telling me. Now, it's your job to figure out this whole situation - I get that. But he's the one linked to Agnes Fairbrook, and that's the name that signs my checks. I've got a right to know. So, what gives?"
Shaggy sighed, and decided to be frank with him.
"Mister Callahan, like, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're being played."
Jack stared down at him and pursed his lips.
"Played how?" he said, gruffly.
"We're pretty sure that the person you know as Matt Lillard isn't real. Like, it's an alias. We think the guy's real name is Jeff Douglass, and he's in cahoots with Fairbrook. They're playing some kind of sick game here at this fair; they've intentionally given you bad blueprints and it sounds like they have some connection to the Phantom who's running around out here every night mucking things up."
"I think," Velma interjected, "that there's a good chance no money will be coming your way. Simply put, it's all a farce."
Jack stared at them, saying nothing. His lips twitched slightly, and for a moment Shaggy thought the big man was going to bare his teeth at them, like an angry dog. Instead, his lips slowly curled into a smile. Jack began to chuckle softly, then threw back his head and laughed.
"Like, what's so funny?" Shaggy said, annoyed. Now it was him he felt like he was out of the loop.
"This is too funny," Jack said, grinning. "This is incredible. You guys were clearly a waste of Fairbrook's money. What a load'a baloney!"
"Hey! What on earth do you mean?" Velma pouted.
"Ah," he said, waving his hand dismissively, "you've got this totally wrong."
"Like, what?"
"Yeah. See, Agnes Fairbrook… she been payin' my crew the whole time! I've cashed two checks already. Ain't no fake checks going on around here. She's the real deal, pal!"
"But, like, you said that if you didn't finish the job in time, she didn't have to pay!?"
"Sure," he said, grinning. "We'd lose our last paycheck. But all the rest?" He extended his arms out and puffed up his chest. "I told you - I'm union!"
Shaggy's mind raced. Why would Fairbrook both pay the workers and try to stop their work? Even if her goal was to prevent that final paycheck, she'd only be saving herself a small portion of the overall cost of this project. And - wait a minute, wasn't this the county fair? Why was one woman running the whole show? And… what was going on with Lillard? Shaggy put a hand on his head, feeling his mind reel as the inconsistent details swam around and around.
"Shaggy?" Velma said touching his arm gently. "Are you okay? You look… dizzy."
"I feel dizzy," he said. "Like, none of this makes any sense. The money, the phantom, the fair itself… and Scooby! Man, this is getting weirder by the minute. You got anything?"
Velma put a finger to her chin and thought.
"Hmm… I was having similar thoughts just now," she said. "There are too many things that don't add up here. Jack," she said, turning to the man, "you say that you've never had a bounced paycheck. Does your work crew get paid at the same time?"
"They sure do," he boasted. "And they haven't had any trouble neither."
"Okay. Now, this might sound like a strange question," she said, "but have any of them come into a lot of money lately?"
Jack stared at her curiously.
"Not that I know of," he said. "If you're suspecting collaboration, you can scratch that one right outta yer heads. I pick the men on my work crew myself, I do. Ain't one of 'em a liar or a thief, even the felons."
"Th-the felons?" Shaggy asked.
Jack scowled.
"Some people don't get a fair shake in life. I do what I can to lift 'em up. 'Sides, none of 'em new Fairbrook before we took this job."
"You mean you haven't built this fairground before?" Velma asked. "What about last year?"
Jack stared at him, half condescending and half bewildered.
"Buddy, we haven't had a county fair in years. This is the first one since '74. What on earth are you talkin' about?"
"Haven't had-" Shaggy began.
"-A fair?" Velma finished.
"Right," Jack said. "That's why we're puttin' up with all the weird stuff on this job, see? This is gonna be a big break for Callahan Construction. The first county fair in years! I'm surprised you guys ain't heard it was coming back. I thought they'd advertise it somewhere, y'know?"
Shaggy and Velma shared one last look.
"Uh oh."