(Section 4)
-In Red's storage area and workspace. Loki is skipping into it like the Pied Piper of Hamlin holding two six packs of beer. All the members of the Lodge are following him like entranced rats into the workshop. Shaggy and Scooby are following close behind, shooing any lagging behind into the room with brooms.
Loki has set up an old hubcap on the wall, and crudely drawn numbers and sections like a dart board.
Shaggy and Scooby has herded everyone into a small crowd. Loki tosses the beer into the crowd, and they pounce on it like ravenous animals. While the Lodge members are going to war over the beer, Loki waves his hands in an arcane fashion. He slams his palms together, and an explosion of smoke erupts from the floor. When it clears, a carnival barker's booth has materialized on the shop.
L: (Taking on the airs of a carnival barker) Gather 'round, folks, gather 'round! Step right up and take the challenge of the century! Dare to brave the perils of the Dart Board of Death! See how it spins!
-Loki makes a circling motion with his hands, uttering under his breath, "Cyclus Mathonwy". The dart board made out a hubcap on the wall begins to spin like a knife-throwers wheel.
L: Be sure to throw with the precision and accuracy of a sniper! For ten dollars for three throws, the risk is high! But he who hits the bull's eye, wins the whole pot! Here be the darts! Who's the first to brave this gauntlet?
Red: Sure, I'll take that bet.
L: Excellent, Red! Let me prepare the darts, and we'll get this party started.
-Loki appears to inspect the darts, which are actually nails, in his grasp. He whispers down to them.
L: To all those who hold you, cause them to miss; but to me bestow Victory's Kiss!"
-Red hands the darts to Red. He takes his first throw, and plants it in the wall, missing the hubcap completely. The second throw narrowly misses Scooby's head, sticking on a completely different wall. The third one lands dead in Harold's butt. Harold yelps out in pain.
R: How did that happen? Harold was behind me.
L: Must have been a stray gust of wind.
H: Loki, all the windows are closed.
L: Then Red has got to be the most skilled trick shooter I've ever seen. Who's next?
-Buzz Sherwood takes the bet next. The first dart plants itself in the ceiling, the second ricochets off the edge of the hubcap, and the third punctures Harold's shoe, going right between his toes.
A bass voice booms from up above, where Velma and Gord are.
Voice: Say my name! Say my name, BITCH!
Red: Damn, I've never seen Gord like that. He's really...
Shrill Voice: VELMA! VELMA!
Everyone:...whipped.
-The game continues until everyone in the Lodge has placed their bets and done severe damage to the Lodge and Harold. A hefty pot of 2000 dollars has accumulated. Bill stands up to take his turn.
R: TAKE COVER!!!!
-Bill, in his ever silent fashion, gives a confident thumbs-up and a stupid grin. All the Lodge members dive from sight. Loki looks over at Shaggy and Scooby.
Sh: When in Rome...
-They duck also. Bill makes three expert shots at the hubcap, and they go right into a grate in the ventilation system. A long string of clanging noises can be heard in the vents, and the nails come shooting out from behind Bill and hook the bib on his overalls, dragging him across the floor and impaling themselves in the wall. Bill is left stuck to the wall, desperately trying to dislodge himself. Everyone cautiously rises from their hiding places-
L: (Gathering the pot) Looks like the game's done. Thanks for playing, folks. Shaggy! Scooby! Drinks are on you!
Sc: Rastard.
-They return to the bar. They plop down in front of the counter. As they collect their drinks, the tempo from upstairs changes again.
L: I'll be damned.
Sh: What is it?
L: The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies. I never thought that would be possible.
Sh: Loki, why don't you do something to blot that shit. Something that pure makes my ears want to bleed.
L: I surprised you could think of anything pure right now. What do you want me to do?
Sh: Start up that jukebox over there.
-Loki swipes a washer from the counter and flings toward the jukebox. It sails perfectly into the coin slot. The box starts playing "Deep" from Nickelback. Red enters the bar and stops and stares at the jukebox.
R: How could that jukebox be playing modern music? That hasn't been working since 1960.
-From outside, a female voice yells out- "No no! Not like that! Do it again!"
L: That sounds promising. I might be able to do it correctly. Let's have a look, shall we?
-Loki, Shaggy, and Scooby go outside the Lodge and see in the woods next to the building. Harold is standing on a podium giving on impassioned speech to the assembled Lodge members, minus Red. The trio strolls over to the area.
L: Where did Harold learn German?
Sh: And how did he grow that Charlie Chaplain moustache so fast?
Sc: Rhat reans...
Sh: A supporting character has given evidence leading to his suspicion of being the villain.
-All three pull out sheets of paper.
L: Check-off!
Red: Hi, kids! What are ya doin'?
-Loki notices a camera affixed to the outside of the Lodge. Every time Red, moves the camera follows him.
L: Say, Red. What's with the camera?
R: Oh that. Since my show consists of many locations, I set up cameras in every room of the Lodge. There's a transmitter in my hat that keeps the cameras on me at all times. Saves me a fortune on cameramen.
-Harold has finished his oration and the Lodge members are disbanding. Harold, stepping down from the podium, is passing by the group with Mike Hammer and Dalton Humphries.
L: So, Red, do you know how much longer it is until is until Philo Stone gets here?
-Harold suddenly leaps in front of Loki, and in a rush of panicked adrenaline, grasps him by his coat and lifts him from his chair.
Harold: Stone? Philo Stone? THE PHILO STONE? The Philo Stone who is an international adventurer and crime fighter? The Philo Stone who sent more criminals to prison than the FBI, Interpol, and Scotland Yard combined? Thephilostonewhohashonedhismindandbodytothehighestlevelofhumanperfectionposs iblesothathemightfoeverstandopposedtoallformsofvillianynomatterwheretheymigh toccur? Do you mean THAT Philo Stone?
-Loki is beginning to breathe very shallowly. Harold has put him a death head lock.
L: Maybe. Ever heard of him?
H: I haven't the slightest idea who that is.
-Harold releases Loki, who is gasping for breath.
H: Mike, go call a Possum Lodge emergency meeting. For everyone except you, Uncle Red. We wouldn't dream of disrupting your show.
-Mike heads into the Possum Lodge.
R: Harold, what emergency?
H: Well.we've got to get everything ready for filming your annual PBS special tomorrow.
R: Aren't we going to do another lame collection of outtakes this year?
H: Of Uncle Red, what would PBS call such an obvious scam?
R: Business as usual.
L: What are you two talking about?
R: Don't you ever watch your local Public Television station?
L: Not since Pay-per-View started showing adult movies. Why?
R: Well, when Harold got back from the city, he thought it would be a good idea to create a local public access TV show featuring Succotash County's most beloved resident.
Fred: Who's that?
R: Me, you brain dead blonde.
Daphne: When will we start running from the ghost?
R: Anyway, what we do in our critically acclaimed if strangely low viewership show is that we have a sort of a free flow consciousness structure which follows me as I interact which various unconventional but endearing cast of rural eccentrics who inhabit the area around Possum Lake.
L: So, you mean you basically screw around, ramble at the mouth, hang with a bunch of hicks who make the cast of Deliverance look like debutants, and then edit it down to a half-hour weekly show.
R: That's a pretty accurate summation. Rather cruelly put, but accurate. Just remember, we did it long before MTV and their 'Real World" bullshit. I mean, what does that show have that we don't?
D: Emotionally vacuous, intellectually barren, and personality challenged if hard bodied teenagers so desperate for attention that they willingly invite the unnervingly voyeuristic audience to forget their own lack of what is commonly called a life and passively watch as they engage in vicious, brutal in-fighting while stripping down to jump into pools semi- naked in a moment's notice.
-Everyone turns and stares. Daphne shrugs.
D: I auditioned for them twice.
R: Riiiiiiiiight. Well, the Chairman of PBS saw it and thought that its eclectic sense of humor would fit in with the network's fine tradition of offbeat, unusual comedy. It's being used to provide a tasteful contrast to the orchestral concerts and that awful British comedy Harold seems to like so much.
H: Ahem.
L: They needed something cheap to fill an empty time slot, right.
R: Right. Again, rather cruelly put but essentially correct.
H: (Approaching Daphne) Excuse me, Ms. Blake. This may seem a bit forward, but have you ever considered being the mistress of a ridiculously rich and diabolically clever if socially inept criminal mastermind bent on worldwide economic domination?
D: (Glancing at Fred, then looking back) Many times.
-Fred and Daphne go back to filming amongst the trees. Daphne is acting all scared like she is running from something, and running into trees. Fred, behind the camera, is wearing a beret, and making limp-wristed directions and calling out in a highly feminine voice, "No! No! Again!"
L: Fred. What are you doing?
F: Don't interrupt me! I have to get this scene just perfect! When we came out here, there wasn't any ghost. Just these three kids who kept saying "Fuck" all the time. They said they filming a documentary about some witch. They were intruding on my artistic ingenuity, so made a wooden scarecrow and left over their tent in a tree. Then I took their map. I invented the cheaply made program of scared kids in the woods!
D: Fred, I can't do this anymore. I need it. Right now. (She is beginning to shake, and her eyes are wild)
F: (Glancing at the back of the van) Right here?
D: Yes, Fred. Right here, right now. I don't care who sees. I need it now. (She drops to her knees)
F: Do this scene right, Daphne, and you'll get all you need. And more.
D: All right.
-Daphne springs to her feet, and darts among the trees with a look of absolute terror on her face. She darts from tree to tree, until she falls to the dirt and screams.
F: And CUT! That was beautiful! Gorgeous! Simply scrumptious!
D: (Darting over to Fred and falling to her knees. She is grasping his pants tightly) NOW! Give to me NOW!
F: All right, Daphne. You earned it. Nine inches of think, white, gleaming...malt.
-Fred hands Daphne a milkshake. She downs it a single gulp. Her eyes glaze over, and she goes limp.
D: Ohhhhh...the pixies are back.
L: Daphne?
D: That man is talking.
L: Ah...I see now.
Sh: What just happened?
L: Something that explains a lot. I suspect you must have been too stoned to notice, Shag.
Sh: What the fuck are you talking about?
L: (Shaking his head) Once those two dimbulbs came around, the gang was doomed. I remember when it was you, me, and the Great Dane. Now those were some good times. And of course, we dealt with the real deal. There were those vampires in Collinsport, the werewolf in London, and those aliens in Roswell. And they were for real.
Sh: Yessssss, thanks to you I found myself running from things when I was ninety-nine percent sure they were a guy in a cheap rubber suit and mask he bought at Spencers. In fact, when I worked there, I sold a few of those to the guys we turned over the cops later. I don't recall there being a law prohibiting a guy from wearing a Halloween costume.
L: Then what was the problem? I never ran from them. I usually just punched them in the face.
Sh: Loki, do you remember the time you conjured up Lilith and those six succubi? I used to weigh 280 pounds and was a linebacker on the high school football team. Ever wonder how I went from 280 to 140 in a single night?
L: You weren't complaining at the time.
Sh: I didn't know what they were DOING at the time.
L: Oh really. Then why were crying for more?
Sh: I wasn't crying for more. I was crying for MERCY.
L: Ah yes. The redhead.
Sh: Yes, who would have thought one of them was named Mercy. And Chastity. Although Charity was aptly named.
L: So they sucked the life out of you. You could have gotten that weight back by now. You eat enough, but you have to stop running all the time.
Sh: I wouldn't be running if it wasn't for that lingering one percent chance that those monsters could be real. And I have you to thank for that.
L: Don't blame me, Shaggy. We didn't start the whole "Let's see who you really are, Mister" crap until the others came along. First, Velma starts hanging around like a little sister for who knows why, and gets under my skin just like one, too. Then Daphne starts tagging along since she and Velma were closet friends back in high school. And wherever Daphne goes, Fred follows with his goddamn camcorder. That's when we started ending up in abandoned amusement parks running away from some guy named Al in an elaborate scuba suit.
Sh: I remember Al. I sold him that suit. He had a wife named Cindy, and two daughters. Nice guy.
Just talked too damn much.
H: Excuse me, Loki, but what are you doing to do about Philo Stone? Going to sceedaddle over to Despicable County?
L: Nope, I guess I'm pretty much screwed. (Loki thinks a moment, then jokingly asks) Unless any you know of any munitions smugglers where I can pick up a brace of surface to air missiles.
R: Nah.
H: No.
Dalton: Sure.
-Shaggy, Scooby, Loki and Red look at Dalton with stunned expressions. Harold appears to be in shock.
Da: Yeah, we got the latest in French extroset missiles....
H: Dalton...
Da: ...real hot little mommas.
H: Dalton...
Da: Here's our catalog.
-Dalton hands Loki a very thick catalog with Harold's beaming face on the cover.
Da: And here is the URL for our website.
H: (In growing desperation) ...Dalton....
Da: And we offer UPS next day delivery.
H: DALTON!!!!!!
Da: What?
H: Oh, Dalton, you big kidder you! You know we don't have anything to do with the arms industry.
-Harold grabs Dalton's earlobe and twists it painfully.
H: And even if we did, we would make sure not mention it in front of certain people. Now would we?
-Dalton looks over at Red and Loki, who are looking at both of them.
Da: Uh, no. No we wouldn't.
R: So, Loki. What are you going to do for the rest of the night?
L: I'm going to have some more fun. FRED! DAPHNE! Come on inside! I have an idea!
-Upstairs, in a room magically insulated from sound and vibration, The Scooby Gang plus Loki minus Velma is gathered around a table with a deck of cards.
L: Ladies, gentleman, and dog, the game is strip poker. Allow me to prepare the deck.
-Loki pulls the Kings out of the deck. They blink sleepily and look up at Loki.
King of Spades: Ho there! Loki! 'Tis been a fair time!
L: Whassup, Spade. All you boys ready? It's time to play.
King of Clubs: I do spy a fair lass in the distance! Be she a maid to be wooed?
L: In a way. You guys rule the cards. Get them in line.
King of Hearts: I suspect that thee dost wish a diabolical scheme?
L: Indeed. I need to make sure that wooable maid gets the crappiest hands the whole game.
King of Diamonds: The Aces will protest. Shall we send the Joker to distract them?
L: Good idea. -He shuffles the cards and winks at Scoob and Shag-
L: The game begins.
-The game continues on for a two hours. By this time, Daphne has removed nearly article of clothing. She is sitting in only a black lacy bra and panties, her neckerchief, and headband. Everyone is staring at her, save for Fred, who looking at Loki out of the corner of his eye. The next hand is played. Daphne loses again. A faint snickering noise can be heard from Loki's hand. She reaches behind her back to remove her bra. As the bra unsnaps, the lights go out.
All the men but Fred: NOOOOO!!!!!
(From Downstairs) Harold: Sorry everybody. I was playing my Xbox, down in my secret headquar...I mean the basement, and I think I blew a fuse.
L: Ah shit. And I was so clo...did he just say Xbox?
-Loki takes off running out of the room to Harold secret headquar...basement. Before he can reach the door, he runs into something with a CLUNK, and collapses to the floor. The lights come on with a bright spark and the sound of Red going "YAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!". Loki is lying on the floor holding his eye.
Sc: Roki?
L: So firm. So smooth. Yet so pointy. Must be awfully cold in here.
-Loki passes out.
-The next morning, Loki is roused by Shaggy shaking him awake.
L: What?
Sh: It's morning.
L: That would explain the sudden change in Gord and Velma's tempo. That's James Brown, isn't it?
Velma: (From across the hall) I feel good!
Sh: That's nothing. You should have heard them do the 1812 Overture. The part with the cannons was phenomenal. I would have thought Gord would be shooting blanks by now.
L: How could you sleep through that? I had a concussion.
Sh: Scoob and I slept in the Mystery Machine.
Sc: Re rept rood.
L: You son of a bitch.
Sc: Rand? Ri RAM ra ron rof ra ritch.
L: Oh yeah. So, do you want something?
Sh: Just wanted to tell you it's 8:50. Stone will be here soon.
L: Best news I've heard all day. How about you just shoot me in the kneecap and rub salt on it too?
Sh: What's the thing you have with this Philo Stone guy? Why are you getting so wacked about him coming here?
L: There's plenty of reasons for that. First of all, he's the epitome of squeaky-clean goodness. I'm a career criminal. If he ever figures that out, I'm in deep feces with him. Secondly, he's so damn smart, he sees through every scam I pull, and he's so righteous he won't even overlook it for cut of the profits. The worst thing is, for some reason, whenever he's around, my magic quits. I can't even pull a rabbit of a hat when he's around.
Sh: Big fucking deal. You're the smartest guy I've ever known. How could being without your magic be such a problem?
L: I've gotten accustomed to that. The biggest problem is that people keep thinking I'm him. You want to know my problem? When I get attacked by reporters looking for an interview or mobsters out for his head, I have a problem with that. When I get put into a lethal deathtrap meant for Stone, I have a problem with that. When I'm seduced by a Mata Hari style temptress who wants to prod literally for information, I...actually don't have a problem with that.
D: Did you say Philo Stone? He's so dreamy!
L: That's the other thing. Once he shows up, I'm living in his shadow. I don't even exist when he's on the scene.
Red: (From downstairs) I hear a plane!
Sh: ( Going to the window) Holy shit! That's a...
L: 1932 Sopwith Camel with dual machine guns in mint flying condition.
Sh: Yeah. Loki, does he know about Harold's weed?
L: I don't know, but it's a safe bet. Great Tuatha De Dannan!
Sc: Ruh?
L: Never mind. Better get a strip of Red's duct tape to cover our asses. We're about to get fucked.
SO PHILO STONE HAS FINALLY ARRIVED. WHAT WILL HAPPEN NOW? WILL HAROLD'S OPERATION BE EXPOSED? OH DAMN, YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT YET. YOUR EYELIDS ARE GETTING HEAAAAAAVY...YOU WILL FORGET EVERYTHING I SAI...SSSNNNNXXXXXX...AH! WHERE AM I? OH YEAH! SO WILL THE PHLATULENT PHANTOM RETURN SOON? AND HOW DID RED SURVIVE AN ELECTRICAL SHOCK OF THAT MAGITUDE? WHAT WAS IN THAT MALT FRED GAVE DAPHNE? WHAT MUSICAL SCORE WILL VELMA AND GORD EMULATE NEXT? AND JUST WHO WAS THE BETTER CAPTAIN? KIRK OR PICARD? ANYONE THAT SAYS SISQO OR JANEWAY WILL BE EXECUTED.
ALSO CHECK OUT REDGREEN.COM FOR ANY THAT ARE CONFUSED ABOUT THIS SETTING
-In Red's storage area and workspace. Loki is skipping into it like the Pied Piper of Hamlin holding two six packs of beer. All the members of the Lodge are following him like entranced rats into the workshop. Shaggy and Scooby are following close behind, shooing any lagging behind into the room with brooms.
Loki has set up an old hubcap on the wall, and crudely drawn numbers and sections like a dart board.
Shaggy and Scooby has herded everyone into a small crowd. Loki tosses the beer into the crowd, and they pounce on it like ravenous animals. While the Lodge members are going to war over the beer, Loki waves his hands in an arcane fashion. He slams his palms together, and an explosion of smoke erupts from the floor. When it clears, a carnival barker's booth has materialized on the shop.
L: (Taking on the airs of a carnival barker) Gather 'round, folks, gather 'round! Step right up and take the challenge of the century! Dare to brave the perils of the Dart Board of Death! See how it spins!
-Loki makes a circling motion with his hands, uttering under his breath, "Cyclus Mathonwy". The dart board made out a hubcap on the wall begins to spin like a knife-throwers wheel.
L: Be sure to throw with the precision and accuracy of a sniper! For ten dollars for three throws, the risk is high! But he who hits the bull's eye, wins the whole pot! Here be the darts! Who's the first to brave this gauntlet?
Red: Sure, I'll take that bet.
L: Excellent, Red! Let me prepare the darts, and we'll get this party started.
-Loki appears to inspect the darts, which are actually nails, in his grasp. He whispers down to them.
L: To all those who hold you, cause them to miss; but to me bestow Victory's Kiss!"
-Red hands the darts to Red. He takes his first throw, and plants it in the wall, missing the hubcap completely. The second throw narrowly misses Scooby's head, sticking on a completely different wall. The third one lands dead in Harold's butt. Harold yelps out in pain.
R: How did that happen? Harold was behind me.
L: Must have been a stray gust of wind.
H: Loki, all the windows are closed.
L: Then Red has got to be the most skilled trick shooter I've ever seen. Who's next?
-Buzz Sherwood takes the bet next. The first dart plants itself in the ceiling, the second ricochets off the edge of the hubcap, and the third punctures Harold's shoe, going right between his toes.
A bass voice booms from up above, where Velma and Gord are.
Voice: Say my name! Say my name, BITCH!
Red: Damn, I've never seen Gord like that. He's really...
Shrill Voice: VELMA! VELMA!
Everyone:...whipped.
-The game continues until everyone in the Lodge has placed their bets and done severe damage to the Lodge and Harold. A hefty pot of 2000 dollars has accumulated. Bill stands up to take his turn.
R: TAKE COVER!!!!
-Bill, in his ever silent fashion, gives a confident thumbs-up and a stupid grin. All the Lodge members dive from sight. Loki looks over at Shaggy and Scooby.
Sh: When in Rome...
-They duck also. Bill makes three expert shots at the hubcap, and they go right into a grate in the ventilation system. A long string of clanging noises can be heard in the vents, and the nails come shooting out from behind Bill and hook the bib on his overalls, dragging him across the floor and impaling themselves in the wall. Bill is left stuck to the wall, desperately trying to dislodge himself. Everyone cautiously rises from their hiding places-
L: (Gathering the pot) Looks like the game's done. Thanks for playing, folks. Shaggy! Scooby! Drinks are on you!
Sc: Rastard.
-They return to the bar. They plop down in front of the counter. As they collect their drinks, the tempo from upstairs changes again.
L: I'll be damned.
Sh: What is it?
L: The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies. I never thought that would be possible.
Sh: Loki, why don't you do something to blot that shit. Something that pure makes my ears want to bleed.
L: I surprised you could think of anything pure right now. What do you want me to do?
Sh: Start up that jukebox over there.
-Loki swipes a washer from the counter and flings toward the jukebox. It sails perfectly into the coin slot. The box starts playing "Deep" from Nickelback. Red enters the bar and stops and stares at the jukebox.
R: How could that jukebox be playing modern music? That hasn't been working since 1960.
-From outside, a female voice yells out- "No no! Not like that! Do it again!"
L: That sounds promising. I might be able to do it correctly. Let's have a look, shall we?
-Loki, Shaggy, and Scooby go outside the Lodge and see in the woods next to the building. Harold is standing on a podium giving on impassioned speech to the assembled Lodge members, minus Red. The trio strolls over to the area.
L: Where did Harold learn German?
Sh: And how did he grow that Charlie Chaplain moustache so fast?
Sc: Rhat reans...
Sh: A supporting character has given evidence leading to his suspicion of being the villain.
-All three pull out sheets of paper.
L: Check-off!
Red: Hi, kids! What are ya doin'?
-Loki notices a camera affixed to the outside of the Lodge. Every time Red, moves the camera follows him.
L: Say, Red. What's with the camera?
R: Oh that. Since my show consists of many locations, I set up cameras in every room of the Lodge. There's a transmitter in my hat that keeps the cameras on me at all times. Saves me a fortune on cameramen.
-Harold has finished his oration and the Lodge members are disbanding. Harold, stepping down from the podium, is passing by the group with Mike Hammer and Dalton Humphries.
L: So, Red, do you know how much longer it is until is until Philo Stone gets here?
-Harold suddenly leaps in front of Loki, and in a rush of panicked adrenaline, grasps him by his coat and lifts him from his chair.
Harold: Stone? Philo Stone? THE PHILO STONE? The Philo Stone who is an international adventurer and crime fighter? The Philo Stone who sent more criminals to prison than the FBI, Interpol, and Scotland Yard combined? Thephilostonewhohashonedhismindandbodytothehighestlevelofhumanperfectionposs iblesothathemightfoeverstandopposedtoallformsofvillianynomatterwheretheymigh toccur? Do you mean THAT Philo Stone?
-Loki is beginning to breathe very shallowly. Harold has put him a death head lock.
L: Maybe. Ever heard of him?
H: I haven't the slightest idea who that is.
-Harold releases Loki, who is gasping for breath.
H: Mike, go call a Possum Lodge emergency meeting. For everyone except you, Uncle Red. We wouldn't dream of disrupting your show.
-Mike heads into the Possum Lodge.
R: Harold, what emergency?
H: Well.we've got to get everything ready for filming your annual PBS special tomorrow.
R: Aren't we going to do another lame collection of outtakes this year?
H: Of Uncle Red, what would PBS call such an obvious scam?
R: Business as usual.
L: What are you two talking about?
R: Don't you ever watch your local Public Television station?
L: Not since Pay-per-View started showing adult movies. Why?
R: Well, when Harold got back from the city, he thought it would be a good idea to create a local public access TV show featuring Succotash County's most beloved resident.
Fred: Who's that?
R: Me, you brain dead blonde.
Daphne: When will we start running from the ghost?
R: Anyway, what we do in our critically acclaimed if strangely low viewership show is that we have a sort of a free flow consciousness structure which follows me as I interact which various unconventional but endearing cast of rural eccentrics who inhabit the area around Possum Lake.
L: So, you mean you basically screw around, ramble at the mouth, hang with a bunch of hicks who make the cast of Deliverance look like debutants, and then edit it down to a half-hour weekly show.
R: That's a pretty accurate summation. Rather cruelly put, but accurate. Just remember, we did it long before MTV and their 'Real World" bullshit. I mean, what does that show have that we don't?
D: Emotionally vacuous, intellectually barren, and personality challenged if hard bodied teenagers so desperate for attention that they willingly invite the unnervingly voyeuristic audience to forget their own lack of what is commonly called a life and passively watch as they engage in vicious, brutal in-fighting while stripping down to jump into pools semi- naked in a moment's notice.
-Everyone turns and stares. Daphne shrugs.
D: I auditioned for them twice.
R: Riiiiiiiiight. Well, the Chairman of PBS saw it and thought that its eclectic sense of humor would fit in with the network's fine tradition of offbeat, unusual comedy. It's being used to provide a tasteful contrast to the orchestral concerts and that awful British comedy Harold seems to like so much.
H: Ahem.
L: They needed something cheap to fill an empty time slot, right.
R: Right. Again, rather cruelly put but essentially correct.
H: (Approaching Daphne) Excuse me, Ms. Blake. This may seem a bit forward, but have you ever considered being the mistress of a ridiculously rich and diabolically clever if socially inept criminal mastermind bent on worldwide economic domination?
D: (Glancing at Fred, then looking back) Many times.
-Fred and Daphne go back to filming amongst the trees. Daphne is acting all scared like she is running from something, and running into trees. Fred, behind the camera, is wearing a beret, and making limp-wristed directions and calling out in a highly feminine voice, "No! No! Again!"
L: Fred. What are you doing?
F: Don't interrupt me! I have to get this scene just perfect! When we came out here, there wasn't any ghost. Just these three kids who kept saying "Fuck" all the time. They said they filming a documentary about some witch. They were intruding on my artistic ingenuity, so made a wooden scarecrow and left over their tent in a tree. Then I took their map. I invented the cheaply made program of scared kids in the woods!
D: Fred, I can't do this anymore. I need it. Right now. (She is beginning to shake, and her eyes are wild)
F: (Glancing at the back of the van) Right here?
D: Yes, Fred. Right here, right now. I don't care who sees. I need it now. (She drops to her knees)
F: Do this scene right, Daphne, and you'll get all you need. And more.
D: All right.
-Daphne springs to her feet, and darts among the trees with a look of absolute terror on her face. She darts from tree to tree, until she falls to the dirt and screams.
F: And CUT! That was beautiful! Gorgeous! Simply scrumptious!
D: (Darting over to Fred and falling to her knees. She is grasping his pants tightly) NOW! Give to me NOW!
F: All right, Daphne. You earned it. Nine inches of think, white, gleaming...malt.
-Fred hands Daphne a milkshake. She downs it a single gulp. Her eyes glaze over, and she goes limp.
D: Ohhhhh...the pixies are back.
L: Daphne?
D: That man is talking.
L: Ah...I see now.
Sh: What just happened?
L: Something that explains a lot. I suspect you must have been too stoned to notice, Shag.
Sh: What the fuck are you talking about?
L: (Shaking his head) Once those two dimbulbs came around, the gang was doomed. I remember when it was you, me, and the Great Dane. Now those were some good times. And of course, we dealt with the real deal. There were those vampires in Collinsport, the werewolf in London, and those aliens in Roswell. And they were for real.
Sh: Yessssss, thanks to you I found myself running from things when I was ninety-nine percent sure they were a guy in a cheap rubber suit and mask he bought at Spencers. In fact, when I worked there, I sold a few of those to the guys we turned over the cops later. I don't recall there being a law prohibiting a guy from wearing a Halloween costume.
L: Then what was the problem? I never ran from them. I usually just punched them in the face.
Sh: Loki, do you remember the time you conjured up Lilith and those six succubi? I used to weigh 280 pounds and was a linebacker on the high school football team. Ever wonder how I went from 280 to 140 in a single night?
L: You weren't complaining at the time.
Sh: I didn't know what they were DOING at the time.
L: Oh really. Then why were crying for more?
Sh: I wasn't crying for more. I was crying for MERCY.
L: Ah yes. The redhead.
Sh: Yes, who would have thought one of them was named Mercy. And Chastity. Although Charity was aptly named.
L: So they sucked the life out of you. You could have gotten that weight back by now. You eat enough, but you have to stop running all the time.
Sh: I wouldn't be running if it wasn't for that lingering one percent chance that those monsters could be real. And I have you to thank for that.
L: Don't blame me, Shaggy. We didn't start the whole "Let's see who you really are, Mister" crap until the others came along. First, Velma starts hanging around like a little sister for who knows why, and gets under my skin just like one, too. Then Daphne starts tagging along since she and Velma were closet friends back in high school. And wherever Daphne goes, Fred follows with his goddamn camcorder. That's when we started ending up in abandoned amusement parks running away from some guy named Al in an elaborate scuba suit.
Sh: I remember Al. I sold him that suit. He had a wife named Cindy, and two daughters. Nice guy.
Just talked too damn much.
H: Excuse me, Loki, but what are you doing to do about Philo Stone? Going to sceedaddle over to Despicable County?
L: Nope, I guess I'm pretty much screwed. (Loki thinks a moment, then jokingly asks) Unless any you know of any munitions smugglers where I can pick up a brace of surface to air missiles.
R: Nah.
H: No.
Dalton: Sure.
-Shaggy, Scooby, Loki and Red look at Dalton with stunned expressions. Harold appears to be in shock.
Da: Yeah, we got the latest in French extroset missiles....
H: Dalton...
Da: ...real hot little mommas.
H: Dalton...
Da: Here's our catalog.
-Dalton hands Loki a very thick catalog with Harold's beaming face on the cover.
Da: And here is the URL for our website.
H: (In growing desperation) ...Dalton....
Da: And we offer UPS next day delivery.
H: DALTON!!!!!!
Da: What?
H: Oh, Dalton, you big kidder you! You know we don't have anything to do with the arms industry.
-Harold grabs Dalton's earlobe and twists it painfully.
H: And even if we did, we would make sure not mention it in front of certain people. Now would we?
-Dalton looks over at Red and Loki, who are looking at both of them.
Da: Uh, no. No we wouldn't.
R: So, Loki. What are you going to do for the rest of the night?
L: I'm going to have some more fun. FRED! DAPHNE! Come on inside! I have an idea!
-Upstairs, in a room magically insulated from sound and vibration, The Scooby Gang plus Loki minus Velma is gathered around a table with a deck of cards.
L: Ladies, gentleman, and dog, the game is strip poker. Allow me to prepare the deck.
-Loki pulls the Kings out of the deck. They blink sleepily and look up at Loki.
King of Spades: Ho there! Loki! 'Tis been a fair time!
L: Whassup, Spade. All you boys ready? It's time to play.
King of Clubs: I do spy a fair lass in the distance! Be she a maid to be wooed?
L: In a way. You guys rule the cards. Get them in line.
King of Hearts: I suspect that thee dost wish a diabolical scheme?
L: Indeed. I need to make sure that wooable maid gets the crappiest hands the whole game.
King of Diamonds: The Aces will protest. Shall we send the Joker to distract them?
L: Good idea. -He shuffles the cards and winks at Scoob and Shag-
L: The game begins.
-The game continues on for a two hours. By this time, Daphne has removed nearly article of clothing. She is sitting in only a black lacy bra and panties, her neckerchief, and headband. Everyone is staring at her, save for Fred, who looking at Loki out of the corner of his eye. The next hand is played. Daphne loses again. A faint snickering noise can be heard from Loki's hand. She reaches behind her back to remove her bra. As the bra unsnaps, the lights go out.
All the men but Fred: NOOOOO!!!!!
(From Downstairs) Harold: Sorry everybody. I was playing my Xbox, down in my secret headquar...I mean the basement, and I think I blew a fuse.
L: Ah shit. And I was so clo...did he just say Xbox?
-Loki takes off running out of the room to Harold secret headquar...basement. Before he can reach the door, he runs into something with a CLUNK, and collapses to the floor. The lights come on with a bright spark and the sound of Red going "YAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!". Loki is lying on the floor holding his eye.
Sc: Roki?
L: So firm. So smooth. Yet so pointy. Must be awfully cold in here.
-Loki passes out.
-The next morning, Loki is roused by Shaggy shaking him awake.
L: What?
Sh: It's morning.
L: That would explain the sudden change in Gord and Velma's tempo. That's James Brown, isn't it?
Velma: (From across the hall) I feel good!
Sh: That's nothing. You should have heard them do the 1812 Overture. The part with the cannons was phenomenal. I would have thought Gord would be shooting blanks by now.
L: How could you sleep through that? I had a concussion.
Sh: Scoob and I slept in the Mystery Machine.
Sc: Re rept rood.
L: You son of a bitch.
Sc: Rand? Ri RAM ra ron rof ra ritch.
L: Oh yeah. So, do you want something?
Sh: Just wanted to tell you it's 8:50. Stone will be here soon.
L: Best news I've heard all day. How about you just shoot me in the kneecap and rub salt on it too?
Sh: What's the thing you have with this Philo Stone guy? Why are you getting so wacked about him coming here?
L: There's plenty of reasons for that. First of all, he's the epitome of squeaky-clean goodness. I'm a career criminal. If he ever figures that out, I'm in deep feces with him. Secondly, he's so damn smart, he sees through every scam I pull, and he's so righteous he won't even overlook it for cut of the profits. The worst thing is, for some reason, whenever he's around, my magic quits. I can't even pull a rabbit of a hat when he's around.
Sh: Big fucking deal. You're the smartest guy I've ever known. How could being without your magic be such a problem?
L: I've gotten accustomed to that. The biggest problem is that people keep thinking I'm him. You want to know my problem? When I get attacked by reporters looking for an interview or mobsters out for his head, I have a problem with that. When I get put into a lethal deathtrap meant for Stone, I have a problem with that. When I'm seduced by a Mata Hari style temptress who wants to prod literally for information, I...actually don't have a problem with that.
D: Did you say Philo Stone? He's so dreamy!
L: That's the other thing. Once he shows up, I'm living in his shadow. I don't even exist when he's on the scene.
Red: (From downstairs) I hear a plane!
Sh: ( Going to the window) Holy shit! That's a...
L: 1932 Sopwith Camel with dual machine guns in mint flying condition.
Sh: Yeah. Loki, does he know about Harold's weed?
L: I don't know, but it's a safe bet. Great Tuatha De Dannan!
Sc: Ruh?
L: Never mind. Better get a strip of Red's duct tape to cover our asses. We're about to get fucked.
SO PHILO STONE HAS FINALLY ARRIVED. WHAT WILL HAPPEN NOW? WILL HAROLD'S OPERATION BE EXPOSED? OH DAMN, YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT YET. YOUR EYELIDS ARE GETTING HEAAAAAAVY...YOU WILL FORGET EVERYTHING I SAI...SSSNNNNXXXXXX...AH! WHERE AM I? OH YEAH! SO WILL THE PHLATULENT PHANTOM RETURN SOON? AND HOW DID RED SURVIVE AN ELECTRICAL SHOCK OF THAT MAGITUDE? WHAT WAS IN THAT MALT FRED GAVE DAPHNE? WHAT MUSICAL SCORE WILL VELMA AND GORD EMULATE NEXT? AND JUST WHO WAS THE BETTER CAPTAIN? KIRK OR PICARD? ANYONE THAT SAYS SISQO OR JANEWAY WILL BE EXECUTED.
ALSO CHECK OUT REDGREEN.COM FOR ANY THAT ARE CONFUSED ABOUT THIS SETTING