Jason and the gang jogged out of the garage to see about all the commotion.
A vibrant red racecar gleamed in the noon sun outside. Beside the racer, dressed in an equally vibrant red jumpsuit, perched a dark-skinned man with oily black hair. "Hello, Newport!" the man called with a wave and a smug grin. "What do you think of my new racer?"
"It's very…nice, Vega," Jason lied with a false grin.
"I thought I'd let you see the front of it for the first and last time. During the race, all you'll see is the back as I cross the finish line first!"
"We'll just have to see, won't we, Vega?" Jason replied with a tight-lipped smile.
Vega grinned wolfishly, showing pearly white teeth. "We sure will," he snickered, striding cockily towards the garage. "We sure will."
Fred raised an eyebrow as Vega vanished inside. "Wow, he certainly is…an unpleasant man."
"That's Carlos Vega," Jason explained. "He's won the Coolsville 500 for the past three years. But I'll knock him off his high horse this year for sure!"
Sparky jogged out of the garage. "Hey, Jason, yeh might want to quit gabbin' an' come look at this."
"Please, please don't tell me there's a problem," Jason moaned.
"There's a problem," Sparky replied, taking Jason by the arm and propelling him towards the garage.
As Jason and Sparky vanished into the garage, Carlos emerged, swaggering towards his racecar. "Gonna get some practice laps in," he murmured to himself, leaping in through the racer's open window. "Watch how a master drives!" With a thunderous blast, Carlos took off around the track!
"Jinkies! He's fast!" Velma exclaimed.
"Looks like that green car could give him a run for his money, though," Fred remarked.
"Green car?" Daphne echoed.
Sure enough, an acid-green racecar had appeared on the track. Orange flames licked their way down the car's body and its grill was decorated with a macabre dragon-like skull. The driver wore a green scaly top and a dark green cape that billowed behind him; his face was only a grinning skull that cackled madly as it steered its racer towards Carlos' car.
"It's gaining on Carlos!" Shaggy exclaimed. "Look at it go!"
"Gaining? It's going to…" With a sickening crunch of metal on metal, the mystery racer smashed into Carlos' car, forcing it into a tailspin!
Mystery Incorporated cried out in shock and jogged over to help Carlos. In the confusion, the acid-green racer vanished; its driver's mad cackling still echoing though the stadium.
Shaken, Carlos clambered out of his racer and toppled to the ground. "Carlos? You okay?" Fred called. "Do we need to call you an ambulance?"
"I th-think I'll b-be f-fin-ne," he stammered. "G-g-guess-s I'm out of the r-race, th-though."
"Hmmm…that certainly is lucky for everyone else," Velma mused aloud.
"What just HAPPENED?!" Jason shouted as he, Sparky and Stanley, drawn by all the commotion, jogged onto the scene.
"Some nutjob just ran Carlos off the track!" Fred replied.
"It w-wasn't j-just some n-nutjob," Carlos stammered. "It w-was Axel M-Malon-n-ne!"
Jason, Stanley and Sparky gasped in shock, but Mystery Incorporated was just confused. "Who's Axel Malone?" asked Fred.
"Axel Malone is—or rather, was—the greatest driver in the Coolsville 500, some said greatest in the world!" Sparky explained. "Last year, during the race, he lost control of his car and crashed into the wall! The racer burst into flames, and Axel's body was never recovered. Now he's returned to take his revenge on the living racers by destroying their racers and rendering them unable to race. Three racers have already dropped out!"
"Hmmm…" Velma murmured skeptically. "I want to take a closer look at that wreck."