Mystery Incorporated regrouped in Hank's den that afternoon. Shaggy sprawled out on the couch, squished in next to Scooby. Fred and Daphne sat together on their air mattress, both mildly traumatized with the stain of a memory they took from Bill's house. Velma sat in the corner on her sleeping bag texting her fiance, Marcie Fleach.
How's the heat? Velma read. Marcie sat on their bed back at home in Crystal Cove, sinking into the soft, plush, peach blanket.
Texas heat's something else… so are the Christians… Velma replied.
Oh god… what happened? Marcie responded, cracking a smile. She went to the kitchen in search of a glass of wine.
Look's like we've got another mystery on our hands… or three? Basically, a couple of kids in this weird Christian colt are worshipping this thing they call "the light." And the people we're staying with got vandalized I guess? Daphne mentioned something about aliens… Velma texted back. She returned her attention to the conversation at hand.
"So, like, basically we don't know where that magnum dongus thing went man," Shaggy said with a frown, scratching Scooby's head affectionately. Shaggy removed a joint and lighter from his pocket and began to light it.
"Norville Rogers, this is a guests' home. If you wanna do reefer, go out to the Mystery Machine," Daphne said, swiping the lighter from his hands.
"But, like, I'm traumatized man," Shaggy pleaded.
"Did you notice anything distinct about the perpetrator, Shaggy?" Fred asked.
"Well, he had, like, this dagger thingy that he stabbed poor Bobby with. Oh, he also used red paint to draw those wieners all over the place, ha-hoo," Shaggy laughed.
Daphne suddenly remembered the buckets of red paint in Bill's living room. "Do you guys think it could be one of the neighbors? One of the ones we met, Mr. Dauterive, had red paint in his living room. Maybe drew the wangs to sabotage Hank's haunted house and win the competition?"
"Right, I remember seeing that paint too, he's definitely on our list of suspects. What about you Scooby, do you remember anything?" Fred asked.
"R'ell… r'I remember rat ruh rax guy rore a rong roak. Rike a… rike a rizard," Scooby confirmed.
"Good boy Scooby, do you remember what color the cloak was?" Fred continued.
"R'I can't even see color, rehehehehe," Scooby replied.
Marcie took a long sip of wine, holding onto it for a moment before setting the glass on the nightstand next to her. Wow, another mystery. Weren't you guys just making a pit stop on your way to another mystery? She sent in return.
Velma read the text and let out a huff. Mystery finds us wherever we go I guess… how're things back at home? Does Sheldon Cooper miss me?
Sheldon Cooper, Velma and Marcie's adorable Egyptian cat, lept onto the bed and snuggled up next to Marcie. Yeah… I miss you too…
I miss you guys more! I can't way for this trip to be over. To be back home with you. Velma responded. Marcie read the response and set her phone down. She looked Sheldon in the eyes, who looked back at her with an endearing stupidity that she admired. Why can't people love as well as cats do, she wondered.
"So gang, why would a wax figure want to draw penises all over its creator's husband's haunted house? Any ideas?" Fred asked, leaving the table open.
"Well, first of all, I think we can rule out the vandal actually being Jeffrey Epstein," Velma said. Everyone nodded.
"That's right, we killed him already a few years ago," Daphne said grimly. Everyone looked down and an uncomfortable gloom took over the room.
"Like, that was the darkest mystery we ever solved," Shaggy said, wincing in pain at stray memories now flooding his head, "but, like, what if it's his ghost possessing the magnum dingus for revengence or something?"
"Common Shaggy, time and time again we've disproved the existence of ghosts. All of this can be explained scientifically," Velma nagged.
"Actually, Velma, we've encountered a few ghosts we couldn't disprove. What about that witch Ravencroft summoned?" Daphne rebutted.
"Just because the book burned before we could find an explanation doesn't mean-" Velma began.
"And, like, Scooby and I totally dated aliens man," Shaggy added.
"R'oh yeah…" Scooby said.
"Sure but aliens and ghosts are totally different," Velma continued before being cut off by Fred.
"And we can't forget about that time we went to KISSteria with the band KISS," he said.
"Okay that time we were just drugged," Velma argued.
"True, but those KISS guys were still ghosts, right?" Fred continued. Daphne looked at him with concern.
"Fred, sweety, that was just makeup," Daphne explained, patting him on the oversized shoulder.
"But then how did they have all those superpowers?" Fred asked in confusion.
"The drugs, Freddy, we were given hallucinogens," Daphne continued to explain.
After a few more gulps of wine, Marcie began typing a reply. Just be safe. Love you. She sent.
Velma replied You don't have to worry, love you too.
I can't not worry… Marcie quickly sent back. She sent another text. How can you say don't worry? Your entire job is going out and investigating criminals, putting your life in danger non-stop. Every single mystery you try to solve is another chance that something bad could happen. Another chance that I could lose you. You go and pick up another three mysteries along the way to the one that's already got me worried sick and say "don't worry"? Fuck you, Velma. I love you, but fuck you.
Velma saw the long response and chose to read it later. Daphne had begun explaining the mystery she encountered.
"So after seeing that creep at the 7-11 I was like okay that was weird but maybe it's just how the locals are. But then, get this, later I saw this other neighbor, Mr. Boomhaur, who, by the way, has a way cooler haunted house than the other guy, talking to some people about aliens. You think it could be connected?" Daphne pitched.
"That's a great mystery, Daph. Personally, I love it. What if the aliens are somehow connected to the phalluses drawn on Mr. Hill's tent? Shaggy, Scooby, do you guys still have your old girlfriend's number?" Fred asked. Shaggy and Scooby both shook their heads.
"No way man, we haven't heard from them since the night they flew away. I guess that makes them, like, aliens and ghosts, ha-hoo!" Shaggy quipped.
"Do you remember what the guy at the register chanted?" Velma inquired of Daphne.
"Yeah. For whatever reason, I haven't been able to forget," Daphne replied, "ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu L'on-Staarr wgah'nagl fhtagn."
"Wait a minute, like, say that again man…" Shaggy said, squinting.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu L'on-Staarr wgah'nagl fhtagn," Daphne repeated.
Shaggy sent his brain cells into overdrive, scouring every last inch of his mind for where he'd heard it before. "One more time, man," he requested.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu L'on-Staarr wgah'nagl fhtagn," Daphne said once more.
Suddenly it jumped from the tip of his tongue down his throat, finishing with a cannonball into his stomach – Shaggy had remembered. "Like, that Jeffrey Epstein guy said that to us."
"Great work Shaggy!" Fred exclaimed with excitement, pumping his fist in the air. "We got ourselves a clue. So the cashier at 7-11 is another suspect. Whatever they're doing, it has to do with that chant. What was it again?"
"Rh'nglui rmglw'nafh rhulhu r'on-raarr rgah'nagl rhtagn," Scooby reiterated, saving Daphne the breath.
"Wait a minute… one of the words in that chant… was it Cthulhu?" Velma asked.
"Yeah, Cthulhu L'on-Staarr wgah'nagl fhtagn," Daphne replied.
"Today when Mr. Hill and I went to see Mr. Gribble, we ended up on a little tangent. Mr. Gribble said his actions were a result of a soon-to-be threat called Cthulhu, so we went to see the people who told him that," Velma said to the gang, who looked back in shock.
"You mean that the machine gun-truck thing's connected, too?" Daphne asked.
"This is great. Wait, I already said that… this is fantastic," Fred said, standing up.
"And whatever sort of weapon this Cthulhu thing is, it seems real," Velma continued. No one said anything for a moment. It's not often Velma acknowledges anything mysterious as real so quickly.
"Like, I've never seen you jump to a conclusion so quick Velma. What's got you so sure?" Shaggy asked.
"We went and saw first hand. I don't entirely know how to describe it yet, but it let us see it all. Feel it all, I suppose," Velma replied.
"Wait, so you're saying that something called a Cthulhu's real?" Fred interjected.
"It's as real as you or I. Maybe even more real. Regardless, it's another mystery we need to solve," Velma declared.
"Here's my running theory: Cthulhu is the codename for one of Hank's neighbors, probably Mr. Dauterive, who's been sabotaging the haunted house competition to win the all-terrain adamantium-coated rideable lawnmower with beer holders and cushioned seats," Fred explained.
"R'on't forget about the r'aliens," Scooby reminded Fred.
"Right, and he's an alien," Fred looked about the room. Though Shaggy and Scooby seemed convinced, Velma didn't seem so sure.
"Whatever the case, we need to start searching for more clues if we wanna find anything out," Velma said.
"We could start by interrogating that cashier at 7-11," Daphne suggested. Everyone nodded in agreement.
"It'd probably also be beneficial if the rest of us see that light you were talking about, Velma," Fred replied.
"I'm sure Phineas and Ferb would be willing to take you," Velma replied.
"Who're Phineas and Ferb?" Daphne asked.
"They're these brilliant kids… they discovered the light during excavations. They've been trying to spread the word ever since, warn people," Velma replied.
"Alright, then tomorrow we'll split up and search for clues. Daphne, Shaggy, Scooby, and I will go with Phineas and Ferb, Velma, you can go interrogate the cashier," Fred confirmed.
"Wait, I have to go by myself? I don't even know what cashier Daphne saw, she has to come with me, bare minimum," Velma declared.
"Yeah but Daphne always goes with me," Fred returned.
"It's fine Freddy, you'll live without me by your side for a few seconds," Daphne said with a smile.
"Yeah, but I won't enjoy it," Fred begrudgingly complained.
"I won't either, but you and the guys could use some time together anyways," Daphne reassured him, "Shaggy's your best friend, you'll figure it out."
"I guess," Fred said, laying down.
…
Hank sat in an uncomfortable sofa chair between Bobby and Peggy's beds. The dull room was dimly lit by a gross blue light. The clip clapping of a nurse's heels could be heard echoing from down the dark hall of the hospital. She came into their room.
"How're y'all doin' today?" The nurse asked, setting her clipboard face-down and sitting at a computer desk.
"Been better," Hank replied.
"Doctor Forte's just finished going over y'alls' scans. Bobby Hill should be outta here tomorrow, he'll just need to stay off that leg while the wound heals," she said, typing something quickly on the computer.
"Alright, that means I can help the Scooby gang investigate the mystery!" Bobby excitedly announced.
"Nuh-uh," Peggy rejected, "you're gonna stay home with me and let that leg heal."
"Mom, Mystery Incorporated is counting on me-" Bobby began. The nurse cut him off.
"Actually Mrs. Hill, your wounds are significantly more severe than your sons. You'll need to stay here for at least a week while we care for those burns on your feet. That is if you ever want to walk again," the nurse said. Peggy grimaced at this.
"With all due respect, I fell out of a plane and survived just fine. I'm certain I'll be strong enough to go home tomorrow," Peggy rebutted, crossing her arms.
"Wait a minute, how come you don't have to listen to the nurse but I do?" Bobby asked. Hank let out an exhausted sigh.
"You're mother's going to listen to the nurse, Bobby, and you are too," Hank said, "besides, I don't want you two to be walking around in that condition if that guy-"
"My magnum opus," Peggy corrected.
"H'whatever it is, I don't want it attacking either of you again. I'm gonna go find it and teach it a lesson," Hank sternly declared.
"Mystery Incorporated can help you find them, dad," Bobby suggested.
"I can handle it myself. I don't need a bunch of unemployed hippies to kick someone's ass," Hank rebutted. The nurse turned off her computer monitor and stood up.
"Alright Mr. Hill, visiting hours are up. I can walk you to the door, I have to lock up anyways," she said, holding out a ring full of every sort of key.
"You two don't have too much fun without me, heh heh," Hank said, stretching and then standing up.
"Get ready Bobby, you're about to lose all night to your momma in Boggle," Peggy said, pulling a worn blue box from beneath her bed. Hank waved them goodbye and followed the nurse out. Peggy and Bobby sat alone together, Peggy setting up Boggle on the sofa chair between them. Her arm shook as she removed pieces slowly.
"Are your cuts really that bad, mom?" Bobby asked her.
"Of course not, your mom can take more than a couple of stab wounds," she replied with a comforting smile. The game was almost set up.
"Why're the doctors makin' you stay a week then?" Bobby inquired.
"According to my sources, Dr. Forte sucks," Peggy replied, "he's probably trying to keep me here to drive up the bill. That's how they getcha, Bobby." Bobby glanced over at the desk the nurse had sat at. Her clipboard still sat face-down.
"You know…" Bobby said.
"What?" Peggy quickly responded.
"Nevermind, it's a dumb idea."
"What, what? Tell me or you're grounded."
"Okay. The nurse left her clipboard on the desk. We could take a quick peek and see our scans," Bobby suggested.
"Bobby Hill," Peggy said crisply, "you get your brilliance from your mother. Go get it," she said, motioning towards the desk. Bobby got out of bed and limped over to the desk. He took the clipboard and scanned the first page with a sly grin. As he read, his grin shifted to a frown. He flipped to the second page.
"Hey mom, what's a ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu L'on-Staarr wgah'nagl fhtagn?"
"I don't know. What else does it say? Let me see it," Peggy said, reaching out. Bobby passed her the clipboard and got back in bed.
"Let's see… patient one, Peggy Hill... nice… third-degree burns… patient will be subject to advanced foot surgery by Dr. Forte? This can't be right…" Peggy looked down at the casts covering her cremated kicking appendages. She turned the page.
"What…" Peggy managed to utter. The entire page had been covered in the phrase Bobby asked about. It was crudely carved over and over with a pencil. They heard the clopping of the nurses' heels.
"Bobby, quick, put it back how you found it," Peggy demanded, throwing the clipboard at him. Bobby caught it and began panicking. He waddled over to the desk and set it down, throwing himself back into bed just as the nurse waltzed in.
"Who's winnin'?" She asked.
"What?" Peggy replied, sweat running down her forehead.
"The Boggle game?" She said, looking over to the game board on the sofa chair.
"Oh. Right, the Boggle game. Well, me of course," Peggy said back with a chuckle.
"Alright Mrs. Hill, if you need anythin' jus' holler," she said, grabbing her clipboard and promptly leaving. She turned the light off on her way out, stranding them in a vast and unfamiliar total darkness.
