Chapter Four

The next afternoon, Scooby and Shaggy found themselves with nothing to do after lunch and they struck up a conversation with the bartender.

"So, like, what do you recommend to do here?" Shaggy asked.

"Man, there's lots of things to do," Isaac said as he ticked off his fingers. "You could see a movie, catch a show, eat, suntan, go swimming, eat, play shuffleboard, shop, gamble, ice skating, and from what I've heard you two can always eat."

"Who, us?" Scooby asked.

"Yeah, news about things like that gets around pretty fast with the crew. You're already a legend with the culinary staff."

"How about any news about something like...g-g-ghosts?" Shaggy asked, suddenly concerned.

Isaac got serious and leaned over. "I've...ah...never seen one. Yeah, weird things have been happening - but I've never seen any ghosts, goblins, mummies, skeletons or anything like that. Well, that's not true; I did once..." he said before pausing.

When he didn't continue, Scooby put his paws on the counter. "When? WHEN?"

"When we had our Halloween costume party!" Isaac said, his serious face breaking into a laugh.

"You had us going man," Shaggy said with relief. "I don't know why it is, but there always seems to be a problem wherever we go."

"Well, just enjoy yourselves. Tell you what..." he said as he produced a couple of glasses from under the counter "...let me fix you up something - a virgin pina sunrise. Take it and go get yourself a piece of 'Death by Chocolate' cake in the Random Guys bakery and go enjoy it somewhere. That, my friends, is Isaac's prescription."

"Thanks Isaac, you're alright."

"Rah!" Scoob said in agreement, and the two took their drinks and went to the bakery. Two bakers stood behind the counter awaiting the next customer.

"Isaac said we're should come here for some Death cake or something," Shaggy asked the baker, glancing at the name tag that said 'Walt'.

"We've never had a fatality yet…" he exclaimed.

"…unless you count people almost dying from happiness…" his associate Craig added.

"…but that doesn't count," Walt finished. "We pride ourselves at innovating new, more immersive culinary ways to enhance the experience of the passengers that find their way to our little corner of the ship."

"Uh?" Scooby asked.

"We love customers who love food," Craig translated.

"That's us!" Shaggy enthused. "So, what was Isaac talking about?"

"Ah, that would be our 'Death by Chocolate' 12-layer cake. It's got fourteen layers of unbelievable goodness. We even came up with a kiwi chocolate frosting you won't forget for a month."

"Why do you call it a 12-layer cake when it has fourteen layers?"

"Would you believe we miscounted?" Walt asked.

"Or we had the menu printed up for twelve already…" Craig suggested.

"...or chalk it up to the magic of the Pacific Princess, where we just can't seem to reign in our creativity – what difference does it make when you're presented…with…something…this…good?" Walt said as he strained to slowly lift a tray weighted down with a huge cake. Directing Craig to go get a mop to clean up the drool from the two passengers, he wasn't surprised when they asked for the whole dessert; he barely managed to talk them down to leaving half for the other customers and they left with the hefty dessert that caused the tray to creak beneath it.

Being very careful, the two transported their half of the fourteen layer twelve-layer cake that was taller than it was wide back to their room to consume it in peace.

Shaggy opened the door and was bombarded with disco music while colored lights flashed in the room. A couple were dancing in the small space the floor provided.

"Who are you guys?" Shaggy asked, shouting to be heard above the music.

The guy, wearing a leisure suit, turned down the music although the lights were still flashing. "I'm Tony Manero, and this is my dance partner Stephanie Mangano. What are you doing in our room?"

"YOUR room? This is, like, my room, man."

"No it's not."

Shaggy backed up and checked the door. "Cabin 317. That's mine."

"Maybe the door's yours, but that's my suitcase, that's my jacket, and that's my personal stereo and how many rooms do you know that have a disco ball?"

"Rhat room is yours?" Scooby asked.

"We're cabin 319," Stephanie answered as she headed out the door and looked down the hall. She walked the short distance to the next door and read the number. "Cabin 319. That's weird."

Shaggy opened the door and looked in. His and Fred's bags were sitting on the beds. "This one's ours alright. Somebody switched the numbers."

"Switch 'em back, then. We gotta practice for the dance competition tonight."

Shaggy switched the nine in front of the number to make it read 931. "I don't see how that helps."

"I meant from one door to the other!" Tony said in exasperation. He thought to himself how people at the hardware store said HE was the dumbest guy they knew. Shaggy switched the door numbers and both were labeled properly again. The passengers bid each other goodbye; Tony and Stephanie went back to practice while Scooby and Shaggy went to their room to get some sunglasses. They could hear the disco music again, playing through the wall.

...

That evening, Daphne managed to get Fred to walk with her along the decks of the ship, port side; the last show had already finished, and almost nobody was about due to the reduced occupancy and the hour. She waited for him to say something to break the ice, but he was strangely reserved. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"I can't help it, but I keep finding myself looking out on the water and thinking there's another boat getting ready to ram us," he said. "Why can't we just have fun for a change without trouble finding us?"

"I don't think it's the trouble finding us, so much as we find it. We always figure it out, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I think that guy must be worried too," he said as he pointed to a man they were approaching. Dressed in a white uniform, he stood near the rail as he was looking out on the horizon with a pair of binoculars. "Looking for pirates?" he asked, trying to keep the mood light.

The man lowered the binoculars and turned to face them. "Pirates I could deal with. I don't know what that was last night. I'm your Captain, Merrill Stubing." He reached out his hand and shook hands with the passengers. "I apologize if I seem a little melodramatic. I'm used to running a ship; the only mysteries I'm trained to deal with are navigation and personnel."

Before Daphne could stop him, Fred volunteered. "Mysteries ARE our business. Well, more of a hobby really. We're Mystery, Inc. We've heard you've had some trouble recently."

"Really? From whom?"

Fred thought quickly before responding. "Professionally speaking, we prefer to not reveal our sources. Have you witnessed anything personally?"

"No, until last night. I was the one that ordered the emergency change of course. But if it wasn't for others, I would have thought I was just seeing an illusion. I still don't know," the captain said as he shook his head. His strict demeanor seemed to slip as he doubted his own experience.

A strange howling came from above, and the three looked up to see a figure bathed in white float through the air from a landing near the top of the ship. The sound oscillated as the character flew through the air until it came down on the starboard side of the ship.

"Jeepers!" Daphne exclaimed.

"Jumping Jehoshaphat!" Fred joined in. They all rushed around some equipment and made their way to the opposite side where the thing had landed, but there was no sign of anything out of order. Velma, who had seen the vision from another part of the ship, rushed up to join them.

"I don't care what it takes or who finds out, this must stop THIS CRUISE!" the captain vowed. He stared at the two with a steely glare. "I am hereby authorizing your group to take all necessary measures to solve this mystery." His face softened. "Please?"

Velma, who was investigating a dark mound sitting on a deck chair and fluttering in the breeze, unraveled it to reveal a black parachute. "We'll do our best sir," she assured him.

Daphne looked at Fred. "Jumping Jehoshaphat?"

"I was trying to come up with something that started with a 'J'," Fred explained.