When the Scooby Doo team of old passed away peacefully in old age, they
left each of their brains to science. And yes, that includes Scooby's
brain as well. With high tech 22nd century cloning, similar to the ones
used to bring Holmes and Moriarty to life, geneticists were able to clone
new members, requested by the citizens of the United States. Each state,
whose government requested a set of the gang, was given one: at a price.
"And," Fred added a bit too cheerfully, "If anything bad should happen to
us, like if we were blown up or hacked to little pieces, the state of
California just takes a vote and if they want a new batch, scientists just
clone up a new one!"
Even in the 22nd century, when they had been given newer gadgets, the members themselves hadn't changed much. Sure, they were each equipped with an ionizer, badge, and DNA scanner, but they were still the beloved Scooby characters of old. The Mystery Machine, on the other hand, had changed very drastically. The famous van of Scooby and his friends had to be remade for up to date chases of the criminals of a new century. Although it still had the same Mystery Machine colors and words, the vehicle itself was a hover coach larger and more spacious than Watson's. The inside included two rows of three seats: the driver and two passengers in front, and three more seats for Shaggy, Scooby, and snacks to keep them entertained. And in case of visitors or caught criminals, there were extra seats folded up in storage. The rest of the space in the van was empty except for various cabinets with camping equipment, emergency kits, and other gizmos and gadgets needed for the work of detectives. But Freddy was still getting used to the hovering vehicles of futuristic times. Even his takeoff was rough, and countless times Holmes thought they were done for. Velma and Daphne, who sat in front, constantly shrieked and scolded Fred for being "the most careless driver in the world."
"I wouldn't worry about that title too much, my boy," Holmes said once. "Our Lestrade is also a winner of that precious award." The subject of his joke gave him such a warning glare that Holmes limited his conversation from then on. It was actually rather dull, since Lestrade refused to speak to him, and Freddy was busy driving - with Daphne and Velma busy remonstrating him. Oh, and did I mention that Shaggy and Scooby were pigging out? No? Well they were. Call me Ishmael, but I'm a bit surprised Holmes didn't die right then and there of boredom. Well, no he didn't because it was then that they got there. And I mean "there" as in, where they were going.
The owner of one of the science laboratories up in the hills had begged the bunch of them to go check out a certain monster that was "haunting the lab". When she heard this, Lestrade burst out, "So you aren't really detectives! You're nothing but ghost busters!" And even though the gang turned scarlet and pretended not to hear her, she was still being a grump when they reached the building. The lab was high upon an otherwise deserted hill, with yellowed grass surrounding its front and a gray façade. With no windows, it looked like a jail of the old west, although even the US had adopted the cryptonic method of dealing with criminals. But it wasn't their smoothest day. Before the group even entered the building, a guard bearing obvious signs of Italian descent stopped them: dark hair, dark eyes, and dark face. But he spoke fluent English, with no trace of an accent. "Hold it right there!" he growled with dark authority. The surprise on Fred's face told of an unexpected obstacle. However, Holmes took over smoothly: glancing at the guard's ID badge, he spoke with lighter influence, "I beg you pardon, Mr. . Lucas, but did your boss tell you he was expecting visitors today? No? Dear me! And yet, here we are, so if you'll just tell him that we have arrived."
Lucas raised a dark eyebrow and then narrowed it. "The bunch of you look like pest terminators to me; not detectives! So scram!" And he showed them the barrel of his ionizer; Lestrade was about to scream at him when a voice came from behind her. "Put down your gun, Mr. Lucas. This English gentleman is right; Lou was expecting visitors besides me. Well, move along! I don't have all day!" This came from a young man standing behind them, and after Holmes turned around he could tell that the man was an actor by his tinted sunglasses, worn by all celebrities who could afford the high-tech eyewear. As usual, the eyeglasses were promoting his latest movie; the storyline or something flashed along the bottom of the shades. He was about the same height as Holmes, average weight, a butt chin, well- defined cheekbones, and a small, dainty nose. His eyes were hidden behind the glasses but his jet black hair must've hidden them anyway when he wasn't wearing the shades, since the bangs were long and unkempt in a ragamuffin fashion.
After the guard stepped aside reluctantly, the actor (who called himself Seth Pratt) led them up to meet Lou Nubbin, the aforementioned owner. This said owner was a chubby-cheeked man with a scowl plastered on his face and bright blonde hair with blue eyes. He leapt into business at once as soon as he told the gang of all his workers and their backgrounds. "I have arranged for you to scout out the laboratory at their lunch break; see if any of them sneak in and mess around. I've informed the guard already by my private P.A., so you won't expect any trouble from him this time." With that, Lou turned to accommodate his actor friend, who had been leaning listlessly against the nearby wall.
Holmes thanked him and led the way. They walked down the nearby hall and spotted a group of three scientists. Remembering Lou's permission to question any of his employees, Holmes started to call out politely. "Excuse- " But before the Great Detective could finish, New Scotland Yard's cockiest Inspector interrupted him. "Allow me. Please. HEY YOU THREE!!" Holmes sighed but followed Lestrade. He was just in time to hear her demand forcefully, "Have you seen anything suspicious in these parts?"
One of the scientists, another scowl-faced bearded man, growled in response, "Nothing besides that creepy monster." The other two glared at the first. There was an Asian girl with pale skin and a dark, wide-eyed African with twitchy features. Holmes asked them the same question, albeit politely, but they responded to the negative. Lestrade jumped in. "Where were you when your boss first spotted this monster?"
The two nice ones spoke up in unison. "We were both with him." But the first, whose ID tag read Timothy Squaw, muttered coolly that he had been at home "sick." Lestrade took the bait and pounced, "Oh really. Can anyone confirm that?" Squaw didn't blink. "No, but I'm telling the truth." Then he added with fiery eyes, "And that should be good enough for any Yardie."
"Oh c'mon Squaw: cooperate!" whined the Asian, and the nervous little African copied her in an even whinier voice. His fingers twitched even more and it seemed like he was covered in sweat. But Timothy just shrugged and walked off, leaving the other two dumbfounded. "Squaw! Come back! I don't think they're- done." With a sigh, the girl turned to the gang, "Sorry about him; he's a real stubborn ass at times. Sometimes I think. Well, that he's the monster." She blushed at her own big mouth but Holmes encouraged her kindly. "It's alright; we're detectives. You can tell us!" The African, an ironically named Arnold Trojan, nodded his assent.
Annie continued with the support of two. "Well, about a week before the monster showed, I spotted Squaw talking with some guy in the alley. Normally I wouldn't have bothered to notice him, but the guy was wearing a dark hood and it attracted my attention. Plus, the man gave Squaw some money but I could tell Squaw was insisting for more because he was pushing the hand away and yelling at him with waves of his arms. The man left abruptly like some invisible hand pulled him away and Squaw stomped off as well. But they might've met again and . arranged a better price or something."
Annie stopped and Arnold piped up, "And Annie told me about it and to test him we asked him what he was doing at the time. Of course, it was asked in a way so that he wouldn't suspect that we knew the real answer. But the man lied and told us in a mumble that he had ate lunch in the cafeteria."
Beth Lestrade started down the hall Squaw had taken, but Holmes held her back, calling out over his shoulder, "Thank you ever so much! We'll be going now!" Daphne caught up to him and questioned sweetly, "Aren't you going after him, Sherlock?" Holmes replied crisply that they "didn't have enough evidence"; Annie's information meant nothing conclusive, although it was "interesting". Gees, Lestrade thought to herself; I'm starting to hate that word.
Even in the 22nd century, when they had been given newer gadgets, the members themselves hadn't changed much. Sure, they were each equipped with an ionizer, badge, and DNA scanner, but they were still the beloved Scooby characters of old. The Mystery Machine, on the other hand, had changed very drastically. The famous van of Scooby and his friends had to be remade for up to date chases of the criminals of a new century. Although it still had the same Mystery Machine colors and words, the vehicle itself was a hover coach larger and more spacious than Watson's. The inside included two rows of three seats: the driver and two passengers in front, and three more seats for Shaggy, Scooby, and snacks to keep them entertained. And in case of visitors or caught criminals, there were extra seats folded up in storage. The rest of the space in the van was empty except for various cabinets with camping equipment, emergency kits, and other gizmos and gadgets needed for the work of detectives. But Freddy was still getting used to the hovering vehicles of futuristic times. Even his takeoff was rough, and countless times Holmes thought they were done for. Velma and Daphne, who sat in front, constantly shrieked and scolded Fred for being "the most careless driver in the world."
"I wouldn't worry about that title too much, my boy," Holmes said once. "Our Lestrade is also a winner of that precious award." The subject of his joke gave him such a warning glare that Holmes limited his conversation from then on. It was actually rather dull, since Lestrade refused to speak to him, and Freddy was busy driving - with Daphne and Velma busy remonstrating him. Oh, and did I mention that Shaggy and Scooby were pigging out? No? Well they were. Call me Ishmael, but I'm a bit surprised Holmes didn't die right then and there of boredom. Well, no he didn't because it was then that they got there. And I mean "there" as in, where they were going.
The owner of one of the science laboratories up in the hills had begged the bunch of them to go check out a certain monster that was "haunting the lab". When she heard this, Lestrade burst out, "So you aren't really detectives! You're nothing but ghost busters!" And even though the gang turned scarlet and pretended not to hear her, she was still being a grump when they reached the building. The lab was high upon an otherwise deserted hill, with yellowed grass surrounding its front and a gray façade. With no windows, it looked like a jail of the old west, although even the US had adopted the cryptonic method of dealing with criminals. But it wasn't their smoothest day. Before the group even entered the building, a guard bearing obvious signs of Italian descent stopped them: dark hair, dark eyes, and dark face. But he spoke fluent English, with no trace of an accent. "Hold it right there!" he growled with dark authority. The surprise on Fred's face told of an unexpected obstacle. However, Holmes took over smoothly: glancing at the guard's ID badge, he spoke with lighter influence, "I beg you pardon, Mr. . Lucas, but did your boss tell you he was expecting visitors today? No? Dear me! And yet, here we are, so if you'll just tell him that we have arrived."
Lucas raised a dark eyebrow and then narrowed it. "The bunch of you look like pest terminators to me; not detectives! So scram!" And he showed them the barrel of his ionizer; Lestrade was about to scream at him when a voice came from behind her. "Put down your gun, Mr. Lucas. This English gentleman is right; Lou was expecting visitors besides me. Well, move along! I don't have all day!" This came from a young man standing behind them, and after Holmes turned around he could tell that the man was an actor by his tinted sunglasses, worn by all celebrities who could afford the high-tech eyewear. As usual, the eyeglasses were promoting his latest movie; the storyline or something flashed along the bottom of the shades. He was about the same height as Holmes, average weight, a butt chin, well- defined cheekbones, and a small, dainty nose. His eyes were hidden behind the glasses but his jet black hair must've hidden them anyway when he wasn't wearing the shades, since the bangs were long and unkempt in a ragamuffin fashion.
After the guard stepped aside reluctantly, the actor (who called himself Seth Pratt) led them up to meet Lou Nubbin, the aforementioned owner. This said owner was a chubby-cheeked man with a scowl plastered on his face and bright blonde hair with blue eyes. He leapt into business at once as soon as he told the gang of all his workers and their backgrounds. "I have arranged for you to scout out the laboratory at their lunch break; see if any of them sneak in and mess around. I've informed the guard already by my private P.A., so you won't expect any trouble from him this time." With that, Lou turned to accommodate his actor friend, who had been leaning listlessly against the nearby wall.
Holmes thanked him and led the way. They walked down the nearby hall and spotted a group of three scientists. Remembering Lou's permission to question any of his employees, Holmes started to call out politely. "Excuse- " But before the Great Detective could finish, New Scotland Yard's cockiest Inspector interrupted him. "Allow me. Please. HEY YOU THREE!!" Holmes sighed but followed Lestrade. He was just in time to hear her demand forcefully, "Have you seen anything suspicious in these parts?"
One of the scientists, another scowl-faced bearded man, growled in response, "Nothing besides that creepy monster." The other two glared at the first. There was an Asian girl with pale skin and a dark, wide-eyed African with twitchy features. Holmes asked them the same question, albeit politely, but they responded to the negative. Lestrade jumped in. "Where were you when your boss first spotted this monster?"
The two nice ones spoke up in unison. "We were both with him." But the first, whose ID tag read Timothy Squaw, muttered coolly that he had been at home "sick." Lestrade took the bait and pounced, "Oh really. Can anyone confirm that?" Squaw didn't blink. "No, but I'm telling the truth." Then he added with fiery eyes, "And that should be good enough for any Yardie."
"Oh c'mon Squaw: cooperate!" whined the Asian, and the nervous little African copied her in an even whinier voice. His fingers twitched even more and it seemed like he was covered in sweat. But Timothy just shrugged and walked off, leaving the other two dumbfounded. "Squaw! Come back! I don't think they're- done." With a sigh, the girl turned to the gang, "Sorry about him; he's a real stubborn ass at times. Sometimes I think. Well, that he's the monster." She blushed at her own big mouth but Holmes encouraged her kindly. "It's alright; we're detectives. You can tell us!" The African, an ironically named Arnold Trojan, nodded his assent.
Annie continued with the support of two. "Well, about a week before the monster showed, I spotted Squaw talking with some guy in the alley. Normally I wouldn't have bothered to notice him, but the guy was wearing a dark hood and it attracted my attention. Plus, the man gave Squaw some money but I could tell Squaw was insisting for more because he was pushing the hand away and yelling at him with waves of his arms. The man left abruptly like some invisible hand pulled him away and Squaw stomped off as well. But they might've met again and . arranged a better price or something."
Annie stopped and Arnold piped up, "And Annie told me about it and to test him we asked him what he was doing at the time. Of course, it was asked in a way so that he wouldn't suspect that we knew the real answer. But the man lied and told us in a mumble that he had ate lunch in the cafeteria."
Beth Lestrade started down the hall Squaw had taken, but Holmes held her back, calling out over his shoulder, "Thank you ever so much! We'll be going now!" Daphne caught up to him and questioned sweetly, "Aren't you going after him, Sherlock?" Holmes replied crisply that they "didn't have enough evidence"; Annie's information meant nothing conclusive, although it was "interesting". Gees, Lestrade thought to herself; I'm starting to hate that word.