Three Months Later
September 1st.
Food. It's great ain't it? Shaggy used to believe there was nothing that could topple his ravenous appetite. The most delectable and delicate desserts or even the spiciest street tacos. You know, hamburgers, hotdogs, a few hot pizza pies they'd pick up late at night before everyone in his social circle headed home for the night. Real American comfort foods: hot spam sandwiches and fried eggs he'd fix for Velma when it was 12am. This was when she was still cramming for algebra tests when they used to attend high school. Spaghetti was also a great meal. A few boxes of pasta and a few jars of marinara sauce and nobody leaves the dinner table famished. A few boxes of macaroni and cheese? Or how about some classic tuna casserole? Let's not forget food that sticks to your ribs. Something to stave off his most trusted friend's hunger.
Anything to satiate Daphne's need to feel full again just like old times. When sharing meals with the people who mattered brightened up a cold, gloomy overcast day. Making sure she consumes enough calories was a struggle itself.
Turns out Daphne is able to consume food.
Normal food, but it doesn't mean it has to agree with her or anything.
I guess he could call them empty calories as he tried explaining to a curious and rather skeptical Velma. He was speaking to her using a public payphone he spotted when he visited the village of Brasov, Transylvania. At the cost of encouraging any delusions Shaggy might be experiencing, Velma made a compromise.
"Vampires and monsters only exist only in fiction. I know Transylvania is a popular backdrop for horror films but you're going to need to get a grip on yourself sooner or later."
"Says you," Shaggy shouts. His ears perked up in alarm "Daphne needs help. And by help, I mean someone who can talk her out of starving herself out of any more meals."
"Shaggy, you're really starting to scare me." Velma says, nervously.
"I'm making an international collect call. My phone bill is going to be much scarier than whatever you're imagining."
"All I'm saying is that you both need some help."
"Which is why I'm calling you!"
"Shaggy go see a psychiatrist!"
"I'm begging you, Velma! I'll even make a deal with you," he pleaded. "If you find out I lost my marbles you can ship me off to the nearest funny farm no questions asked!" Velma pauses, for a few seconds. It's an angry, contemplative pause and this alone frightened Shaggy.
"And if I am right… and you are experiencing psychosis I'll have both of you admitted. I'll bring you and Daphne back to America and that's where you will stay."
"Promise."
"I'm not sure how long it will be before me and Fred will be able to pack up and head down to Transylvania but I want to know…you'll be okay, right?"
"I'll try." Shaggy says. He swallowed to clear his throat. Velma was only trying to determine if he was only faking an answer to calm her down, but she would come up empty handed again.
"Promise me!"
"I will, pinkie swear."
Somehow this good news was upsetting.