"Alrighty gang, we're off," Fred announced, turning the ignition on. The Mystery Machine let out a pathetic sputtering cough but didn't start. He turned the key again but to the group's dismay, the van let out a feeble clunking noise.

"Like, what gives man? If we have to spend any more time in this creepy alley, I'm gonna need another pizza," Shaggy complained from the back. Fred glared at Shaggy through the rearview mirror then turned the key again – the van wouldn't give.

"Is everything alright?" Phineas asked from the passenger seat. Ferb withdrew a wrench from his pocket.

"She took a little damage a few days ago, but I'm sure everything's alright. We just had her repaired. New engine, new battery, oil change, exterior repairs, and finish – the works," Fred reassured them with a grin. Getting out and opening the hood, he looked down confidently and rubbed his chin. Phineas and Ferb got out of the front seat and looked as well.

"I don't get it, everything looks fine," he uttered, his eyes moving wildly between the different components. Phineas and Ferb looked at each other and nodded.

"Ferb and I can fix it for ya," Phineas offered with a cheeky smile.

"Ha! Please, as if you children could find your way around the Mystery Machine better than Fred Jones. Fred- I mean I rebuilt this thing from the ground up several times," Fred replied, swiping the wrench out of Ferb's hand.

"We didn't mean to offend you, I'm sure you would've spotted the issue in a couple more seconds," Phineas said, pulling another wrench from his pocket.

"Spotted what? The engine's in pristine condition. Mr. Hill and I just put a new one in," Fred said defensively, crossing his arms.

"That's right! Your engine's not the problem," Phineas responded.

"It's the gaping hole in your oil pan," Ferb added, pointing to a small puddle of oil seeping from underneath the van.

"Nonsense, that's just rainwater," Fred exclaimed, running a finger through the liquid and licking it. Fred winced and spat the liquid out. "Alright humor me. When you're finished playing mechanic I'll go ahead and fix it for real."

Ferb got on his back and slid under the van.

"I'll give you three minutes and then-'' Fred was cut off by the sound of mechanical clanking. Ferb crawled back out, oil streaks painted his purple pants like a Picasso piece.

"Did you fix it, Ferb?" Phineas asked.

"You can't fix that. We need to get a whole new-" Fred was once again cut off as Ferb gave a solid thumbs up.

"Great! We're good to go, let's save Daphne," Phineas announced, marching over to the driver's seat and getting in.

"Hey! Aren't you a little young to drive?" Fred objected, running over to the door. Phineas turned the ignition and the Mystery Machine burst to life. Fred took a few steps back, his jaw gaping in awe.

"Amazing, I've never heard her purr like that!" Fred yelped, pushing Phineas aside and sensually rubbing the dashboard, "We're good to go, gang. Let's save Daphne!"

The gang set out on the streets, rushing to the junkyard behind the 7-11 to save Daphne. A few minutes in, a beeping noise came from Fred.

"Fred, you beeped," Scooby said, poking Fred from the bench in the back. Without saying a word, Fred pulled off to the side of the road.

"Phineas, Ferb, can you guys handle a nuclear threat?" Fred finally asked.

"I suppose. We'd need some materials and enough time for a building montage set to upbeat music, probably. Why?" Phineas responded.

"We don't have time for a building montage. According to my neural link, the Life Alert's detecting radiation," Fred exclaimed. Sweat gleamed off his forehead as he shifted nervously in his seat. Scooby let out an anxious whimper.

"Like, Velma, Daphne, and Luanne are over there," Shaggy began panicking, "we gotta burn rubber man, why aren't we driving?" He asked, hopping out of his seat.

"We can't just go in there, we need a plan," Fred argued.

"How're we gonna make a plan without Velma?" Shaggy retorted, reaching towards the key. Fred slapped his hand.

"You're right Shaggy, but if we go in there right now without any clue of what to do, we could all die," he explained.
"R'I have an idea," Scooby intervened, pulling his phone out, "Fred, remember r'operation rhere's Raldo?"

"Zoinks!"

"Jinkies!"

"Jeepers!"

"Golly!"

"Ra-ra-ra-raaaaat!" Scooby shrieked, leaping into Shaggy's arms.

"Little high, little low," the critter yelled.

"Little hey, little ho," Obama said in response with a smile. Shaggy and Scooby continued cowering in fear.

The small white rodent looked up at them with his beady eyes. "Hey, don't worry guys. I'm not a rat, I'm a mouse. My name's Stuart, Stuart Little," he said, reaching his tiny hand out. His voice was friendly and enthusiastic.

"Stuart here's one of America's most valuable assets against nuclear threats," President Barack Obama explained.

"Nonsense Mr. President, it's my team who makes the magic happen," he replied modestly.

"Your team?" Fred said.

"My brother George and I work with mice all over the nation to develop cutting-edge nuclear technology," Stuart explained.

"Like I don't get it, Mr. Obama, man, why do we need you and your team to find a terrorist?" Shaggy inquired, scratching his beard.

"Uh, please, call me Barack, Shaggy," Obama said.

"Wow, thanks Barack, that's pretty cool of you," Fred excitedly replied.

"Please, uh, that rule only applies to Shaggy here. The rest of you will refer to me as Mr. President," Obama said.

"What?" Fred said, taken aback, "Shaggy didn't even vote!"

"Like, the whole system's rigged man, what's the point?" Shaggy defended.

"That's blatantly un-American, it's our duty as citizens of this amazing country to vote," Fred yelled, getting angrier.

"No, no, Shaggy's right. It's, uh, totally rigged," Obama agreed, giving Shaggy a high-five, "you won't believe who the next president is. I'll, uh, give you a hint! He isn't even a politician. Imagine that, I still have a few years left in this position and the next guy's already lined up." Fred frowned and crossed his arms.

"Waldo's not any ordinary terrorist, Shaggy. We've, uh, sent various advanced drones to assassinate him without any success," Obama explained, opening a drawer at his desk. He reached in and a loud crinkling noise came from inside.

"With all due respect, why couldn't your drones take him out, Mr. President?" Velma asked.

"Look, Waldo's a slippery fuck. He's a master of two things: building the biggest, baddest, most devastating nukes possible and, uh, fading away into the shadowy veil of a crowd," Obama replied, taking an Oreo out from his drawer and eating it. Shaggy and Scooby watched in shock and awe, "that's why we need both of your teams," he sputtered while chewing the chocolate cookie, "one team to find Waldo: Mystery Inc., that's you folks," he grabbed another cookie and popped it in his mouth, "and one team to deal with any nuclear threats Waldo might throw your way: that's Stuart's team," he concluded, swallowing his cookie with an audible gulp.

"Like I just have one question Mr. Obama sir," Shaggy said, raising his hand.

"Go ahead Shaggy."

"Like could I get one of those delicious looking Oreo cookies?"

"Reah, me too!" Scooby agreed.

"Uh, sorry guys, these are my special presidential cookies," Obama said, tossing another Oreo down his gullet. Shaggy and Scooby winced at the crisp sound of the scrumptious cookie being chewed on, knowing well and good they weren't getting any, "Stuart, take Mystery Inc. to Sector 68 and show them what you and George have been working on."

"Sure thing Mr. President. Common guys, it's just a little ways away," Stuart quipped, snapping his fingers and flashing a cheeky grin. He pressed a small remote and a tiny, red RC car rolled in. The mouse hopped in, beeped a tiny horn a few times, did a sick donut and sped out of the Oval Office. The rest of the Scooby gang followed after Stuart. As they walked, the gang marveled at various intriguing artifacts hanging on the walls of the decadent halls.

"Like, whatdaya think's in here?" Shaggy asked, pointing to a door labled "Sector 0". He grabbed the door handle but it viciously latched onto his hand. Shaggy let out an earsplitting yelp and ripped his gnawed grabber away, spilling blood on the pristine, velvety carpet.

"Only those who possess presidential level chakra may have access to Sector 0," the wicked doornob spat through lines of crooked, sharp teeth, "you're chakra level is too high."

"Like, alright man! You coulda just said so, dude," Shaggy griped, holding his bleeding hand tenderly. He continued along with the group, careful not to touch anything else. Stuart lead them to a room labeled "Sector 68." The group entered the room and gazed in awe at the technological majesty. A massive laboratory filled to the brim with scientist mice busy at work with dozens of different experiments. They scurried about with their tiny, mouse-sized equipment, designing pint-sized cars, jets, guns, and the like. In the back of the room, a man stood over a table cluttered with tools and parts.

"Welcome to the Little Laboratory, we make dreams a reality here," Stuart explained, guiding the gang towards the man in the back.

"This technology's incredible," Velma gawked, watching as a few mice shot an apple with a ray, causing it to levitate.

"We survey children around the world, asking them what their dreams are," Stuart replied, "can anyone guess the dream children share most often?"

"Like, a panini maker?"

"Good guess Shaggy," Stuart climbed a mouse-sized ladder up the table the man was looking at, "actually, about 67 percent of children wish for world peace."

"And about 12 percent wish for candy, so you aren't far off," the man said, setting a tablet down on the table. He grabbed a strange gun that had various wires and parts sticking out. "This is a prototype. Think of it like a seed; one day, this little seed will become the tree that grants the wish of those 67 percent."

"This is my brother, George, he's the lead scientist here at Little Labs and he's currently working on a device that will completely eliminate the possibility of nuclear war ever breaking out," Stuart bragged.

"An anti-nuclear uranium stabilizer," George added.

"A.N.U.S. for short," Stuart added.

"Right now, this thing will shut down any nuclear target for about thirty seconds. It can only be used once, so you gotta hit your shot," George said, handing the weapon to Daphne.

"George's big, brilliant brain's gonna save the world someday soon," Stuart said, fist-bumping George.

"I couldn't have gotten half this far without your help, Stuart."

"Don't forget mom, dad, Snowball, and Martha," Stuart added with a smile.

"Alright gang, this is the spot," Fred announced. They all got out of the Mystery Machine and took in their surroundings. They found themselves in a shady, rodent-infested alley that smelled of hot garbage. Muffled electronic music thumped from a club next door. Scooby put a paw over his nose and whimpered.

"Like, what gives man? First Phineas and Ferb's base was in a spooky alley, and now you want us to go into another spooky alley? That's two spooky alleys in a row, Fred. Two. You are really pushing your luck, man," Shaggy complained, shivering with fear.

"R'eah, it smells like piss, rehehehehe," Scooby added.

"Sorry Shaggy, I don't get to pick and choose where the secret bases are. Creepy alleys are just good for hiding things, I guess," Fred replied, scanning the alley for secret doors. Phineas and Ferb nodded their heads in agreement. A tabby cat eyed them from a crate nearby, sprawled out in a relaxed position.

"Tsktsktsktsk…" Fred softly whispered, enticing the cat closer, "little high, little low…"

The feline jumped up at his words and scurried off somewhere hastily.

"Like, boy, I sure hope Stuart and George are doing well after all these years," Shaggy remarked as they waited in the dirty alley.

"How long's it been?" Phineas asked.

"Gee, at least-" Fred stopped suddenly and began sniffing the air. His eyes widened, "knockout gas, gang, cover your airholes!"

It was too late, each of them collapsed to the ground one after another and was carried off by hordes of mice. Their bodies were hauled into a small abandoned warehouse connected to the alley. The building was boarded up and had been listed as "for sale" for who knows how long. Shaggy came to his senses first, gagging at the revolting scent of rodent shit brutally assaulting his nose glands. He couldn't see a thing, quickly realizing he was masked. Tearing the veil from his face, he was met with the sight of Fred, Phineas, Ferb, and Scooby all knocked out nearby. He crawled over to Scooby-Doo's motionless body and nudged it.

"Like, Scoob ol' buddy ol' pal, wake up boy," he said, shaking Scooby a little bit harder. Scooby didn't budge, so Shaggy drew back his hand.

"Sorry pal," he said, closing his eyes and unleashing a well-meaning slap. Scooby yelped and jumped to his feet.

"Rut the hell is wrong with you, Raggy?" He barked, rubbing the tender red mark on his snout.

"Sorry Scooby-Doo, it's not my fault you're a heavy sleeper," Shaggy said, motioning to Fred, Phineas, and Ferb, who were all still unconscious.

"Fine. But I get to do Fred," Scooby replied, already drawing back his paw. Fred opened his eyes immediately and rolled out of the way of Scooby's slap, which left a small pothole on the cold, concrete floor. Fred rubbed his head as he took in his surroundings.

"Like, good going Fred, I think someone kidnapped us, man. How're we gonna save Daphne now?"

"It's alright Shaggy, look," Fred said, holding up a brown substance.

"Like, don't get me wrong, Fred, I'm ecstatic that you brought chocolate on our mission, but that definitely doesn't make things 'alright,'" Shaggy replied with a note of panic in his voice. He grabbed a few chocolates from Fred's hand and popped them in his mouth but quickly spat them out and began wiping his tongue.

"It's mouse feces, Shaggy, this is Stuart's hideout," Fred explained, walking over to Phineas and Ferb who were still sleeping soundly on the concrete nearby. He gently shook them both awake.

"Wha…" Phineas uttered, "what happened?"

"We were knocked out and dragged into this warehouse," Fred replied, helping the boys to their feet.

"I thought this guy was supposed to be your friend?" Phineas asked.

"He is our friend! Probably didn't know it was us, I'm sure it'll be sorted out in no time," Fred responded, walking over to a heavy, chained-up iron door. As he inspected the chain, he heard squeaking outside and began knocking. "Heelllooooo? It's Fred Jones. We're friends with Stuart Little." The squeaking resided leaving them in dreadful silence.

"See, gang? They're probably getting the key right-" the metal door burst open, hitting Fred and knocking him to the floor. He yelped and put his hand over a gash on his forehead that spurt blood. A fleet of mice entered the room and surrounded him, biting off chunks of flesh as he squirmed and kicked about. Scooby let out a vicious snarl and dashed towards Fred, he scooped one of the mice into his jaws, ready to clamp down.

"At ease boys," the voice said. The mice scattered into various nooks and crannies, leaving only one. A white mouse with a tiny trenchcoat and a dirty fedora stood on the chest of Fred, who convulsed and groaned. "Here's how this is gonna go down. You're gonna drop my friend there, or the chimp gets a skull full of lead."

Scooby looked the mouse dead in the eyes and slowly unhinged his jaw. The mouse fell to the ground and limped away. Shaggy, who sat in a fetal position behind a box stood up.

"Like, is that you, Stuart Little?" He asked. Stuart looked Shaggy up and down, then pulled a mouse-sized gun from his trenchcoat.

"Do I look little to you?" He growled, cocking the pistol and sticking it to Fred's forehead. "Choose your next words wisely, hippie."

"Like…" Phineas kicked Shaggy in his shin before he could finish his sentence.

"No sir, no one little could make such a grand entrance," Phineas said with an uneasy smile. Ferb and Shaggy both nodded in agreement.

"I like this kid, he's got more brains than all my mice combined," the mouse said. Phineas let out a sigh of relief and Stuart redirected his aim to Phineas's large, triangular head. "It'd be a shame to watch it splatter all over my rusty wall." Phineas put his hands up in a panic. In reaction, Ferb reached into his back pocket but heard a click behind him. Several more mice standing on a crate held tiny pistols at him, Shaggy, and Scooby.

"You can call me Big Stu," the mouse in the fedora said. "What're ya fools doin' here?"

"Like, Mr. Big Stu, man, we just need your help," Shaggy said, keeping his hands raised high. Stu let out a deranged chuckle and then shot the ground next to Fred's head, causing the rest of the gang to scream out in terror.

"Boy, that's funny. That's fucking hilarious. You want my help?" Stu yelled, his face twitching.

"We're sorry, Big Stu, we didn't mean to offend you. Please, just let us go and we'll never bother you again," Phineas plead.

"Let you go… I was wrong about this one, guess you're stupid after all," Stu said. He looked each member of the gang in the eyes, making sure they were filled with nothing but dread. He then turned his gaze back down to Fred, who oozed blood from various cuts all over his body. He was unconscious at this point.

"Please, at least get Fred some help," Scooby finally said, still foaming at the mouth.

"Of course, where're my manners? Boys, get poor Freddy here some help," Stu said, uncocking his pistol. A few mice scurried in with a bottle of vodka and began pouring it over his wounds. Fred awoke and released a bone-curdling cry, tears streaming down his face.

"Freddy, boy, long time no see," he said, bending down close to Fred's face. "From one gang leader to another, what can I do for you?"

"Please-" he spat, coughing up blood, "Daphne…"

"I almost forgot about Danger-Prone Daphne and that bitch with the glasses," Stu replied. He took a deep breath and put his gun back in the battered coat. "Give me one good reason I should help you."

Scooby-Doo took a step forward, "Re don't need a reason, you owe us."

The gang, Stuart, and George Little were quietly skulking through the halls of a massive gingerbread mansion. Candy-cane chandeliers dotted the ceiling above, dimly lighting up paintings of the royale figures and historic scenes. Shaggy nonchalantly broke a piece off one of the paintings and ate it.

"We better find Waldo soon, otherwise Shaggy's gonna devour this entire mansion and blow our cover," George joked, pointing a device in random directions.

"This place is massive, at this rate, we'll be searching for hours," Fred said, walking alongside George, "what's that gizmo of yours doing, anyways?"

"Waldo's one of the few things in this entire continent that isn't made of candy, it's basically a meat detector," he explained, aiming it at Fred to demonstrate. A small light on the device turned from red to green.

"Golly, that sure is nifty," Fred replied, inspecting the gadget. Velma, who lead the group with Stuart on her shoulder, suddenly stopped and held her hand out to silence everyone.

"There's talking behind this door," she whispered. George held his gadget to the large, chocolate door and it flipped green again. Leaping down from Velma's shoulder, Stuart used his small stature to squeeze under the door and take peek. The gang waited in silence for him to return. After a few seconds, he re-emerged from the crack.

"What'd you see?" George asked.

"Hard to say, it's pitch black in there. Looked like two figures sitting on some chairs by a fireplace," he replied, George reached into his pocket and took out the A.N.U.S., flipping a small switch and causing it to arm. He nodded to Fred, who had everyone step back. Drawing back his leg, Fred kicked the chocolate door down and the gang stormed the room. In an instant, a flash of light blinded everyone, before collapsing in on itself. As they came to their sense, the gang got back to their feet one by one, looking about each other.

"What happened?" Daphne asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Like, take a look man," Shaggy yelled, pointing at the chairs by the fireplace. A pile of rotting meat strapped with a small nuclear bomb began ticking away. Without a moment of hesitation, George fired the A.N.U.S.

"Common gang, we need to book it," Fred demanded, motioning everyone to leave. They filed out the door one after another in a panic - all but George. Stuart looked back into the room.

"George we have to go now," he cried, scurrying back into the room. George scooped Stuart into his hands and chucked him to Fred.

"Take him and go, I gotta disarm this thing," George told him, Fred nodded and began running behind the rest of the gang with Stuart struggling in his hand.

"No, we can't leave him," Stuart yelled, biting into Fred's thumb. Fred continued gripping Stuart tightly as his blood soaked into Stuarts' white fur.

"I'm sorry Stuart, if he doesn't disarm it, we're all history," Fred explained as they made their way down a staircase.

"If we're all toast anyways, why can't we stay with him?" Stuart asked, continuing to wriggle against Fred's grip.

"Because we still have a mission to carry out," Fred said, pointing towards the exit now in sight. A scrawny man in red stripes looked back before escaping out the front door.

The gang followed after him, leaving the bomb for George to deal with. The man, who Fred identified as Waldo, was fast, making his way deep into town.

They continued following as Waldo veered off into an alley. They found him standing at a dead end, his back turned to the group. Fred pulled a pistol from a holster hidden under his shirt and took aim.

"You've got nowhere left to run, Waldo, put your hands in the air," Fred shouted at the striped man. He stood completely still and let out an unsettling chuckle.

"Who said anything about running?" His deep, smooth voice replied in a relaxed tone.

"Put your hands up or I'll-"

"Gonna shoot me? I find that unlikely," Waldo turned his head to face the gang, his cold eyes stared at Fred from behind a pair of circular glasses, "this is who the American government sends to take me down? A boy wearing a scarf and his posse of hippies... what an insult."

"I'll give you until the count of three," Fred threatened, cocking his pistol, "one... two..."

Waldo's sickening smile widened.

"Fred wait, he's got something in his hands," Velma said, pointing out the switch he was holding. Waldo began laughing again, this time a maniacal, hardy laugh. He flipped the switch and his body immediately transformed. What was once a slim, lanky body burst into a hulking mass of veins and muscles that ripped his striped shirt to shreds. Beneath his shirt rows of red stripe tattoos lined his body.

"Like, what happened to him?" Shaggy cried, leaping into Scoobs' arms.

"This is my hand-crafted nuclear steroids. Like it? I now have the strength of seventeen Apache helicopters and counting," Waldo explained, grabbing a trashcan next to him and crushing it in his hand. Fred unleashed the entire clip of his pistol on Waldo, but the bullets just bounced off his budging muscles.

"Gang, retreat," Fred demanded, turning to run. Waldo punched the building next to them and it collapsed, blocking their path with the candy rubble.

"Now then, which hippy shall I turn to paste first?" He said to himself, towering over the gang. Waldo scooped Daphne up and held her in his right hand.

"I could squeeze this one like a tube of toothpaste and she wouldn't even have time to scream."

"Put her down you monster Fred said, kicking at Waldo's ankle with all his might. He kicked over and over until every toe in his foot was broken.

"Pathetic flea, why waste your remaining few minutes of life in pain?" Waldo asked. He chucked Daphne with all his might and her body went flying into the stratosphere.

"Like, he killed Daphne man," Shaggy shrieked, digging at the rubble as quickly as he could alongside Scooby-Doo. Waldo lifted his leg in preparation to stomp on Fred, who continued kicking Waldo's other leg.

"Don't worry, the rest of you will be dead before she hits the ground," he chuckled. His leg came down with a nuclear thud. Shaggy shut his eyes and screamed. When he opened them, gingerbread dust surrounded the hulking figure.

"Like he got Fred too, man," Shaggy sobbed, falling to the ground, "I'm not ready to die, there are so many things left to eat."

"Reah, R'I still have half a Reuben in the fridge at home," Scooby whimpered.

"Hold on a minute gang, Fred's not dead," Velma exclaimed, pointing towards Waldo. The gingerbread dust settled to reveal a massive robot had caught Waldo's foot inches away from Fred. In one of its arms, Velma waved at the gang.

"George," Stuart cried with joy from Fred's pocket.

"Sorry I'm late gang, I had to tie a few loose ends up with that bomb and get my nuclear-proof mech suit on," George said through a speaker on the mech-suit head.

"Who're you?" Waldo asked, leaping back a few meters.

"The guy who's about to kick your ass with the strength of three hundred Apache helicopters," George said, pointing his arm at Waldo. A plasma cannon on the hand charged up with a wurr then shot a nuclear plasma blast at Waldo. The shot sent Waldo through two buildings. George flew after him using the nuclear jet thrusters on his suit, following up with a flurry of hydraulic piston-powered punches that pushed Waldo into the ground, forming a massive crater around them.

Waldo took the beating for a few more seconds before getting a grip on the right shoulder joint of the mech suit. He ripped the arm off and slammed it over the head of the suit, sending a massive crack down the middle of the glass. Waldo thrust his hips sending the suit into the air, then hit it with the arm like a baseball bat. The arm shattered into smithereens but the suit barely had a scratch on it.

"That all you got?" George taunted. Waldo smiled.

"Not in the slightest," he replied, charging towards George. Waldo hit the mech with a full-force tackle, sending nuts and bolts flying in every direction. The mech hit a wall with a thunderous pang and Waldo began striking it with uppercut after uppercut. Blood sprayed from his Knuckles with each hit, as dents began to form in the metal of the mech suit. From inside, sweat ran down George's forehead as he considered a counterattack. He pressed a blue button and Waldo was immediately thrown back by a violent electric shock.

"Small man in a big tin can," Waldo said, wiping his blood-stained knuckles on what was left of his torn jeans.

"Oh common, you're the one laced up on performance-enhancing drugs. Take that away and you're just a nerd with a dumb hat," George replied, standing back up.

Waldo ripped the white and red hat from his head and swallowed it whole.

"Ugh, was that supposed to intimidate me? That was gross," George said, aiming his plasma cannon again. Suddenly a wave of voices came flooding in from George's left. He turned and saw a sea of candy people slowly marching toward them.

"What is this?" George said to himself, he looked back at Waldo who had a devilish grin. Waldo bolted for the crowd and disappeared in the masses instantly. George realized he was looking at a parade, as impressive candy parade floats came into view. Giant, delicious structures on wheels slowly rolled by, surrounded by candy citizens gleefully cheering them on.

Fred and the rest of the gang caught up to George, "Where's Waldo?" Fred asked.

"He got away. Obama was right, this is one slippery fuck," George said, opening the hatch to his mech suit and crawling out. The gang, Stuart, and George looked at the parade as it marched on, unaware of the dangerous terrorist who disappeared amongst them.

"Perhaps Waldo uses some sort of stealth-related Jutsu to disappear into crowds," Velma commented, inspecting various candy citizens. A whistling sound slowly grew from above them.

"Ruh roh, do you hear that?" Scooby asked, pointing to the sky. Everyone looked up to see a massive shadow descending upon them.

"Like, Waldo dropped a nuclear bomb, we're all gonna die, man," Shaggy cried, covering himself and cowering to the floor.

"That's no bomb, Shaggy, it's a person," Daphne exclaimed as the figure continued falling towards them. It fell upon George's mech suit, crushing it like a tin can and shaking the Earth. The figure peered up at George, who was taken aback by the shocking impact.

"You thought I'd let you live with the knowledge of my nuclear power?" Waldo said, energy erupting from each word he spoke. "I'm gonna rip you to shreds and split every atom in your body, unleashing a nuclear blast that scorches this rancid country into crème brûlée."

Waldo launched his arm at George with unrivaled speed, scooping him up and breaking every rib in his body with the nuclear grip that would put a hydraulic press to shame. George cried and blood sprayed out his mouth like a firehose.

"In another second you'll be dead and I'll continue my work. I'll keep developing my nuclear arms until I have the strength not only to destroy this country but this entire waste of a planet. Every man, woman, child, animal, plant, and microorganism will perish in the nuclear flames I unleash on this world. Only then will I be satisfied? Any final words?" Waldo said, peering at George through his overly muscular brow.

"Be-" George coughed, barley able to make a sound without sharp pains reverberating throughout his entire body, "hind- you."

Waldo glanced behind him and was instantly blinded.

"Arrrrrrrrgggg!" He screamed. Daphne jammed a pencil in his eye, pulling it out and stabbing him again. Over and over she shanked his right eye, creating a volcanic eruption of blood that soaked her dress. Waldo released George, who collapsed to the ground like a ragdoll. He then leapt back into the parade and was gone again in an instant, before anyone had a chance to track him. George gasped for air as the gang surrounded him. Shaggy called a candy ambulance.

"George is alive because of Daphne, anyone rith an ounce of honor would return the favor," Scooby declared. Stu looked Scooby in his eyes and a flash of emotion was quickly wiped away and replaced with apathy.

"George isn't alive, I don't owe you nothin'," Stu finally uttered, looking to the floor.

"Like, that's impossible, George is totally strong, man. How could he die?" Shaggy asked. Stu's eyes watered for a moment, but no tears were shed. He recollected himself quickly, putting the mask of a cold, uncaring gangster back on.

"The same rats who ruined our mission all those years back – those filthy rats got to him. They mutilated him and my sister," Stu sputtered out. He was quieter and less flamboyant as he spoke. "It's worse than that. If they'd just killed them, I could've killed a couple thousand of them in return and moved on. No, they had to take it a step further. That son of a bitch Remy kept the corpses. He used his Hair Possession Jutsu to take control of them. He's using my family as vessels. That rat's taking George and little Martha for a joyride, parading them around in front of my fucking face." The gang were appalled at hearing this. Their dear friend George was dead, and his corpse was being used as a vehicle. Shaggy shat himself.

"Rat's disgusting," Scooby said, sitting down. Stu's fists were trembling.

"It's humiliating. It's inhuman. It's exactly what I'd expect from dirty rats," Stu said, his voice rising. "So I don't owe you nothin', get outta my sight before I pull this gun back outta my coat in off you all for the fuck of it." He removed the pistol from his coat and held it at Fred.

Fred, still shaking from the excruciating pain he was in, slowly rose to his feet, "Stu, George was the kind of person who wanted to save the world. To change it for the better. He worked tirelessly every day for that. I'm sorry we couldn't be there for him when he was the one who needed saving, but we're here now because we need saving and you're the only one who can save us. So before you off us, I want to ask you one thing. What would George do in your situation?" Fred said, placing his forehead against the pistol. Stu held it there, his hand shaking. Shaggy, Scooby, Phineas, and Ferb all looked on in terror and silence, preparing themselves for the worst. Stu's breathing quickened and Fred shut his eyes.

Just then, Stu's nose wrinkled. He paused, dazed by the magnificent scent.

"What-what is that?" Stu uttered, half-hazardly waving his pistol around the room. Stu's entire demeanor shifted as he stumbled towards Shaggy and Scooby, who each held a briefcase.

"Like, only the finest Camembert cheese, directly important from Norway," Shaggy said, cracking the briefcase open. The case unfolded to reveal an unfathomable assortment of fine cheeses from all over the world. The rich aroma of cheese immediately filled the room and all of Stu's guards dropped their weapons, gathering around Shaggy and Scooby.

"Camembert? You drive a hard bargain, Rogers. We're in." Stu said, cannonball diving into the briefcase and swimming through the wedges of cheese like Scrooge McDuck swimming through his sea of wealth.