Disclaimer: Yeah, I still don't own Scooby Doo. No reason to sue me, right?
Dylan got out of the sewer through the manhole. She helped Velma out of the manhole as well. Dylan looked around the room they were in, but could barely make it out.
"It's too dark." Dylan said, rubbing her eyes. She was looking around for a light and saw one at the top of a flight of stairs. It was an open door. "Looks like he's just been here…"
"You know, this place seems awfully familiar." Velma could make out vague silhouettes of objects from the open door's light. She took out her cellphone and flipped it open. Dylan saw it and nagged her.
"You do know that this isn't the time to ask Patrick out, do you?" Dylan asked boorishly.
"Excuse me!?" Velma said, being blown back by the remark. "I'm using it for a light, silly!" Dylan dropped her arms and felt embarrassed.
"Right…" Dylan thought of a witty comeback. "I knew that." She then looked at the door again. Velma was shining the light of her hand phone on the surroundings. The hand phone elucidated patches of the dark room, revealing musty old…paintings and artifacts? Yep, there were stored artifacts, old criminology files, dated forensic evidences and paintings of criminals. Dylan and Velma knew exactly where they were.
"We're in the museum basement…" Velma whispered, looking at Dylan. "Jinkies…Mr. Thomson did do it…" Dylan then sighed and turned her back on Velma.
"I'm never gonna get tired of saying this sentence…" Dylan said, flipping her jet black, untidy hair. "But, I TOLD YOU SO!" Velma sighed and got her serious face on.
"Let's go, Dyl!" She said, taking Dylan's hand and running towards the open door. "It's time to capture us a robo-klepto!"
"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Dylan affirmed happily, running alongside Velma. Velma's cellphone rang again.
"Hello?" She asked the person on the other line.
"Velma? It's me Daph." Daphne spoke through the receiver. "Have you seen my student? I kinda lost him."
"Sorry, but haven't seen him." Velma explained while running. "Have to go. I'm sorta busy."
"OK. See you, Velms." Daphne bade goodbye. The two reached the Mystery Inc. exhibit and looked around. They saw Patrick and approached him.
"Pat, we know who did it." Velma said, gasping for air. Patrick helped her regain some breath.
"Really? Who?" Patrick asked, delighted. Velma was about to say who the culprit was, but Thomson showed up, carrying the pack of G-13's. He smelled like the sewer and was eyeing Velma and Dylan carefully.
"What're you people doing here???" He asked brusquely.
"Don't try to deny it! We know you did it!" Dylan busted into the scene. "Try to throw us off by confessing you bought the screws, huh? Well, it didn't work!"
"What's are you talking about!?" Thomson asked Dylan angrily. "You kids have been bugging me since the morning!!!"
"She's right. There's no point in denying it!" Velma backed up Dylan. "All the clues lead to you, Mr. Thomson." Thomson was dumbfounded. He was again turning red as a tomato.
"We know you're controlling the robbing robot." Dylan pointed a finger at him. Well, at this point, Thomson cannot control his temper anymore.
"Confounded, blasted kids!!!" He thundered. "I've got no idea what you're talking about! I certainly don't control any robot!"
"Oh yeah? Prove it!!" Dylan challenged him. But then, Velma tugged at Dylan's arm. "What is it?" Velma pointed at a small shadow that was cast on a hallway wall.
"Something's coming. Everyone, hide." Velma instructed, pushing everyone behind the glass cases and exhibit pedestals. Dylan, Patrick and Thomson did as they were told. Velma hid behind a slightly translucent curtain. The object came closer and started to reveal its form. To everyone's shock, especially Dylan's, it was a small robot, about the size of a big dinner platter. The robot was similar to the ones middle school students make. The model wasn't really that sophisticated, but it was still up for good performance. Dylan noticed a G-13 screw sticking out of the robot's side. She looked at Thomson, who was with her behind the glass case.
"Wait…if you're over here…who's controlling that thing?" Dylan asked Thomson. "Are you carrying some kind of remote????" The robot was now heading towards a glass case containing a pair of glasses Velma donated to the museum. Velma saw this and figured out the pattern.
"…The robot is stealing the things I donated…" Velma said under her breath. She could see the robot cutting a hole in the glass through the curtain. She then thought about the clues.
"The mystery…is starting to fit together…" Velma said to herself. Then with a minute's time, Velma had the mystery solved. "Jinkies…Thomson did NOT do it…"
" I have no control over the robot!" Thomson appealed to Dylan. He emptied his pockets to show Dylan that he has no remote controls of any sort.
"Yeah…right." Dylan wasn't taking the explanation.
"Be quiet you two!" Velma then hushed them both from the curtains. Suddenly, the robot's sensors picked up Velma's voice.
"Retreat! Retreat!" The robot beeped repeatedly, dropping the glasses on the marbled floor. Dylan then sprang into action and started to pursue the fleeing robot. Velma went out from behind the curtains and followed Dylan.
"Come on, Mr. Thomson! Patrick!" Velma beckoned the two men to follow her. The two did what they were told and followed the orange-clad woman. Velma caught up with Dylan.
"You really had to open your big mouth…" Dylan said mordantly. "Great."
"You're the one who won't shut up!" Velma argued Dylan.
"Blame the geezer…" Dylan referred to Thomson. "I think he's controlling it with some kind of remote."
"I told you! I didn't do it!" Thomson angrily protested. Dylan rolled her eyes.
"Trust me, Dylan James, he didn't do it." Velma said coolly. She knew Dylan would not take this thing lightly.
"Are you back to your delusional self again???" Dylan huffed while running. "I just don't get you, Ms. Dinkley."
"Dylan, just listen. Let's just follow that robot and I'll explain later." Velma instructed. Just then they reached the end of the hallway.
They were back in front of the basement door. The robot couldn't have gone anywhere else. The door was the only thing to go through.