Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYBODY!
Now normally I would put up a Christmas songfic but sadly work has been tiring me out creatively, however luckily Lord Primeval managed to finish updating the chapter just in time for Christmas eve, how lucky is that?!
So let's enjoy the holiday seasons with a talking dog and ghostbusters!
"Well gang, we're finally here," Fred grinned. "The Jacob K. Javits Convention Center."
The gang looked out of the van to see the large convention center with a long black banner hanging from the front of the building, on it were fake splatters of blood. A zombie hand on the lower left and werewolf claw on the upper right of the banner, and in the center the words 'Occult Con' to look like they were written in green ooze.
"Like, that's a lot of glass man," Shaggy remarked on the building. "If you throw a rock, you'll have a thousand years of bad luck."
"Reah! Rad Ruck," Scooby nodded.
After parking the Mystery Machine at the parking lot next to the convention center, they took a gander at the people in the parking lot.
A lot of people were headed towards the entrance, some wearing monster t-shirts and others wearing handmade monster costumes.
"Looks like everybody's excited for the Con," Daphne said.
She spotted a family of four all dressed up like a coven of vampires. The newborn in the mother's arms was dressed in a bat onesie. Several cosplayers were masquerading as famous figures from history and folklore. But what surprised them most was that the popular costume choice seemed to be...
Them!
Many cosplayers were dressed as Fred's old outfit, quite a few Velmas, and some...not so convincing Scooby Doos.
"Well, would you look at that?" Fred smiled, "I guess we'll fit in really well here."
"That's kind of a relief," Daphne replied. "One less chance of being spotted by the paparazzi!"
"Uh, speaking of relief," Shaggy barged in. "I'm looking forward to the food court, I could eat a horse!"
"Didn't you just eat? It was at least an hour ago," Daphne said.
"Well yeah, but think about poor Scoob! That's like SEVEN hours in dog years. Look at him, he's wasting away!"
Scooby placed a paw on his forehead in a dramatic pose, sucking in his gut to appear skeletal. As he stretched his other paw outward, he accidentally hit Velma in the back, who was trying to clean her glasses at the time. The sudden impact caused her to let go of her glasses.
"Roops! Rorry..."
Velma crouched down instinctively to hunt for her lost lenses.
"It's alright, Scooby." She said, "Just help me find them before someone-"
She saw them about a foot away from her. It was hard to make out with her blurred vision, but she noticed some pole-like object picking her glasses up.
"I believe these are yours," a voice said.
A hand stretched out before her, the glasses held in it.
Velma took them and placed them back on her face. Looking up she saw the man who helped her.
The man was in his late 40s and carried a walking stick, no doubt the tool he used to pick up the glasses. He had short black hair that was slicked back and faded gray above his ears. The man's lean face had a thin, trimmed mustache. His outfit was a three-button single-breasted sports jacket with brown corduroy pants.
"Best be careful," the man said. "It would be worse to lose those inside the convention."
"Gee, thanks Mr...?"
"Wells."
"Wait a minute," Velma said. "As in...Mr. Wells from Columbia University?!"
"The Same," he replied.
"Oh my! I...I didn't think you were coming to this, your name wasn't on the list. Golly, your papers on neutronic formation are absolutely GENIUS! I've read all your books, even-"
"You're too kind, Ms. Dinkley." Wells said, "But I think you five should find a place in line before it gets too congested."
"How...how did you-?"
"I've seen the reports about you in the papers," he said. "I'm really good at remembering faces. Not to mention the exact heights and attire, the Great Dane and... you're standing by one of the most recognizable vehicles on the planet. The coincidence would be astronomical if it wasn't you."
Velma looked behind her, seeing how close the two were to the Mystery Machine, as well as the rest of the gang who were still searching the ground for her glasses.
"Oh, yeah," Velma said bashfully. "Can't argue with those odds..."
"Now, if you excuse me, I'd best going on my way. Goodbye! Perhaps we'll see each other again inside!"
Mr. Wells walked off, limping on his left leg.
"What was that about?" Fred said coming up behind her.
Velma snapped out of her star-struck trance and looked at Fred.
"Oh nothing," she replied. "We should get going."
Everyone made their way towards the line, unaware of the pair of eyes peeking behind the van and watching them...
After about 10 minutes, the gang inched closer to the entrance of the convention center.
"It really is great to see this many fans," Fred said. "Everyone here must be excited for-"
"THE UNDEAD ARE PEOPLE TOO! DON'T PUT LIMITS ON THE SPIRITS!"
"HECK NO, GHOSTBUSTERS! HECK NO!"
"NO NO!"
"HECK NO, GHOSTBUSTERS! HECK NO!"
"NO NO!"
"Well, maybe not them," Velma pointed to a group near the gate.
There were at least five to eight people in this group, all holding up signs saying 'It could be your dead relative', 'Free the Spirits', 'Spirits Rights or Else,' and 'Don't spook the spooks.'
Most of these protesters were wearing black T-shirts, with a symbol that looked closely like the Ghostbuster's logo. Upon further inspection, the logo was clearly a parody; instead of a white ghost inside the no symbol there was an exaggerated cartoon Ghostbuster, complete with a jumpsuit, smiling a wicked grin.
In the center the group, holding a megaphone, was a rotund woman close to the Mystery Inc gang in age. She had short hair with orange dye at the tips and a thick pair of glasses. Her black jeans and leather jacket contrasted against her tanned skin.
"HEAR ME, NEW YORK! THIS MISTREATMENT OF THE DEARLY DEPARTED MUST BE PUT TO AN END!" She cried out.
The Gang and few onlookers listened to the woman as she continued.
"THE SPIRITS THAT THOSE LUNATICS TRAP NEXT MIGHT BE YOUR DEAD GRANDMA, HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?!
"Well, someone's passionate," Daphne commented.
"Indeed," Fred nodded.
One of the protesters walked up to anyone who came close enough, attempting to hand out fliers. Eventually, Shaggy was within range.
"Take this friend," she said. "Educate yourself!"
Shaggy took a good look at the paper. The same logo on their shirts was on the cover, bearing the words:
Spirit Guides: How to be a Corporeal Ally to your spirit neighbors in a vivonormative world.
"Uh...thanks?" Shaggy said nervously, "Looks like a real page turner..."
Shaggy placed it in his pocket, trying to seem polite.
The large line moved forward. The gang could see the entranceway. As they approached, many signs were displayed showing maps and event schedules. One listed the rules, which caused Shaggy and Scooby to flinch:
No Pets Allowed.
Gaining inspiration, Shaggy whispered into his buddy's ear. The two smiled.
"Rehehehe!" Scooby chuckled.
When it was their turn at the ticket booth, Scooby walked awkwardly on his hind legs with a completely blank expression. His head swayed slightly as he walked.
"Like, he's with me." Shaggy told the vendor.
He leaned over to whisper as she stared at Scooby.
"He made the eyeholes too small!"
Scooby muffled something with a closed mouth, flapping his arms and tilting his head as if he were an ill-fitted cosplay.
The woman behind the counter just smiled as she accepted his money.
"Enjoy the Convention you two!" She said.
The both of them walked off, Scooby continuing with the act by swaying his arms and tilting his head as he walked.
"Jeez," the vendor said under her breath. "That has to be the WORST Scooby Doo costume I've ever seen!"
Once inside the Gang could see scores of people dressed up as monsters and cryptids (a few they have unmasked themselves). Various organizations dedicated to the study of the paranormal such as MUFON, ASSAP and cryptozoological clubs had booths to educate and recruit convention goers.
The mostly glass roof allowed natural lighting to light the convention.
Some of the vendors were promoting their own works of art, self-published books and VHS tapes. Several self-proclaimed mediums and telepaths had booths to sell readings and lessons. Various book stores were selling wares themed around ghost stories and mysticism.
"This place is great!" Fred said. "Where do you guys want to-"
"IT'S YOU!"
Fred turned around to see a skinny, ginger young man looking him dead in the eyes. He had a plethora of freckles, baggy blue pants, a black shirt with the No Ghost logo on it, a black leather bag, and large, blue glasses with rounded frames.
"It's you! It's you, it's you, it's you!" The young man shouted happily in front of them.
He pointed to each one of them.
"Fred Jones, Daphne Blake, Velma Dinkley, Norville Rogers (aka Shaggy) and Scooby Doo! The Mystery Incorporated! Formerly known as The Scooby Doo Detective Agency."
"Wow, it's been a long time since we called ourselves that," Fred remarked, a little weirded out by this guy.
"Like, I hate to burst your bubble, man." Shaggy said. "But we're just cosplayers! See?"
Scooby Doo tried to play the cosplay act again.
"Yeah right," the fan said seeing through his lie.
"I saw you in the parking lot! That was DEFINITELY the Mystery Machine you came out of: same model, same year, exact license plate number! And the dent from the Death Worm case is even in the exact place!"
"Jinkes, two in one day." Velma said, "What are the odds?"
"And... you are?" Daphne asked.
While she spoke, the gang moved slightly away from the overexcited fan.
"Oh my gosh, Daphne is talking to me!" He started geeking out but then took a deep breath.
"Okay be cool, be cool….MY NAME IS CLIVE CUNNINGHAM! CC TO MY FRIENDS!"
The Gang flinched when he shouted.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm just a huge fan of yours."
He opened his bag and pulled out a file showing old paper clips of The Mystery Inc Gang's past exploits.
"I've been following all your cases, going all the way back to your first reported case on the Black Knight, even back when you were children with the case of Chickenstein."
"I'm impressed," Velma looked at the files. "Disturbed, but impressed."
"Oh, thank you, thank you!"
Clive quickly put the file back into his bag.
"I've got soooo many questions I want to ask you! Like, where do you keep getting Scooby Snacks? Who made them? How did you all first meet? Is the Blue Falcon real or fiction?"
The Gang nervously tried to walk away from him, but the obsessive fan-boy just kept following them with questions.
"Where did you get the Mystery Machine? When did you all wanted to solve mysteries in the first place? Shaggy is it true you were once a werewolf? And you-?"
"Like, oh my gosh!" Shaggy said quickly, "Is that Elvira?"
"WHERE?!" Clive shouted with a smile on his face.
He rapidly turned around to search for her, giving the Mystery Inc crew time to escape.
The gang ran like the wind.
"Hey, I don't see..."
Clive turned back around to see that his five idols have disappeared.
Meanwhile...
In the back of the convention center the Ecto-1 pulled in.
"Shouldn't we at least be in the parking lot or something?" Winston asked.
"I'm afraid not," Ray answered. "Part of the contract said we had to park in storage. They're a little nervous about the equipment."
"Can't imagine why," Peter said.
"I can name three good reasons," Winston said.
"We're lucky enough they're letting us have the proton packs," Ray continued. "Well, as long as we keep them switched off for the duration. With the only exception being an actual manifestation."
"Good thing," Egon said. "Considering how frequent those odds have been today I'd rather have them and not need them."
The Ecto-1 pulled into the dock.
As the vehicle pulled in, a yellow set of eyes peered out behind a crate, watching intently.
Meanwhile...
The booths and venders never seemed to end. What caught the gang's attention the most was a large section of the floor dedicated to large glass cases, surrounded by security guards.
"Like what's going on over there?" Shaggy pointed.
"Must be the artifacts," Velma said as they walked to one of them.
They looked at the each of the cases. One had a Samurai helmet with a white mask, the second case had a pyramid-shaped object. The next one had a spear with the tip made entirely of Jade. Beside it a replica of The Orb of Moldova.
Next was the Swiss Death clock, a wooden clock made in the 1800's. The famous Fiji Mermaid was featured as well. Beside that a case contained a chest with a demon skull on the front side. This caused Shaggy, Scooby and Daphne to jump back in fright, but relaxed when the cased read 'replica of the Chest of Demons.'
Next up was a book, described by the plaque that read 'Necronomicon: Third Edition.' After that, a Toltec Skull carved out of quartz. Howard Carter's Ring was also featured. A jar containing a monkey-like creature sat in the next case.
Scooby could have sworn it blinked at him.
One of the larger cases had a mannequin with a black wedding dress and an aged voodoo doll with a knife lodged in its chest. A replica of Vlad the Impaler's Amulet and a pair of earrings that (according to the plaque) were once worn by Elizabeth Bathory sat side by side.
Finally, the gang came across the last case with four police men closely guarding it.
"Excuse me, Officer but what's with the extra security of this one out of the rest?" Velma asked.
The officer eyed the gang suspiciously before speaking.
"Well, two days ago there was a robbery at the National History Museum shortly after this was moved for the convention. The Museum requested extra security, just in case of a repeat offense."
"Jeepers! What was stolen?" asked Daphne.
"Some mummified hand or something...I think," The officer answered. "It was originally displayed alongside this old box here."
The man pointed to the case containing a basketball-sized metal box. It had three gems embedded into each side, except for the last one (the front side) which had a black skull-like face. It didn't look like the thing had a lid, but did have a pair of handles.
The description on the plaque read 'Casket of Souls'.
"As for the culprit, we don't have a lead," he continued. "The security guard just kept babbling on about ghosts."
"G-G-GHOSTS!?" cried Scooby and Shaggy as they held onto each other.
"Yeah, the perpetrator attacked the night guards, gave one of them a heart attack, luckily they got him in the hospital in time. The other has gone missing."
"That's awful," Daphne exclaimed. "You think the ghost is going to attack here?"
"Can't say anything about ghosts, but that's what we are preparing for, mam." The Officer said, "Although personally stopping Ghosts isn't in my pay grade, that's more of a job for the-"
As if on cue, the intercom blasted a message:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please part to the side and turn your attention to the west entrance. Occult Con and The Jacob K. Javits Convention Center are proud to present our special guests!"
The crowd began to clear the aisles and cheer as the announcer continued.
"They Vanquished Vigo, Sacked Samhain, Clobbered Cathulu, and sent Gozer The Gozerian packing! They came, they saw, they kicked ectoplasmic butt! Please welcome...THE GHOSTBUSTERS!"
The west entrance doors burst open as the Ghostbusters made their appearance. Their theme played over the speakers as they danced their way down the aisles. A pair of spotlights followed their every movement.
"That's right, ladies and gentlemen! Come see them live at their table by the guest section," the announcer continued. "Autographs and photo ops available for an additional fee."
"Made it just in time," Ray said.
"Good thing, too." Peter said, "Another minute and we would've lost our paycheck."
"Peter, this isn't about the money." Ray replied, "It's about public relations! Getting out there, interacting with the fans, showing our appreciation."
The four made their way towards the artifact showroom, in complete view of the Mystery Inc crew.
Suddenly, paper cups and various food items began to pelt the four, causing them to slip and fall. A chant began to cry out.
"HECK NO, GHOSTBUSTERS! HECK NO!"
"NO NO!"
"HECK NO, GHOSTBUSTERS! HECK NO!"
"NO NO!"
"Don't tell me, it's THOSE guys again..." Winston remarked.
As if to confirm it, the protesters approached with their signs and slogans. They were throwing whatever they had towards them. Some of those food items were intercepted by Slimer, who swooped in to gobble up as much in midair as he could.
"At least one of us is having fun meeting the fans..." Peter said, sneering at Slimer.
While getting back up, Egon saw the PKE meter on the ground in front of him. No doubt it fell out of his jumpsuit when he tripped. As he picked it up, he noticed the device was starting to act a little crazy. The screen showed readings that were a little off...
The protesters got closer as their chant was mixed with boos from onlookers. The lady with the megaphone approached.
"MONSTERS! BULLIES!" She cried out, "SPIRITS DESERVE THE SAME RIGHTS AS THE LIVING! THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN, STOP THIS PERSECUTION OF THE LIVING-IMPAIRED AT ONCE!"
Slimer raised his brow and muttered some confused noises.
"I think she means you," Ray said.
"Me?"
"WE WILL TOLERATE THIS INTOLERANCE NO MORE!"
She lifted her free hand to toss a hot dog at them, but was stopped by a cane tip colliding with her forearm.
"That's enough, Ms. Soylent!"
After a quick turn of her head, she saw the face of Paul Wells.
"I don't believe it..." Egon said.
"Me either," Ray said. "It's been years."
"Old PW himself," Peter said.
"Professor Wells? Don't tell me you're here to support this...insult to the dearly departed!" She said.
"It's DEAN Wells to you, Lucy," he corrected. "The only thing I support is my university. Which, as a student, YOU represent. You should think of what's important-"
"I am, Mr. Wells!" Lucy shouted. "I'm thinking of the rights of the dearly departed and those cruel beasts that would lock them up like they were wild animals! I won't stop until everyone sees that my cause is true!"
Dean Wells shook his head in disappointment. At that moment the Ghostbusters walked up to him.
"Lucy, you're a brilliant student and a potential engineering genius," he said defeated. "I don't like the idea of having to punish you."
"You...you can't punish me for things I do outside school grounds!" Lucy said with a sneer.
"That's true, Lucy." Wells replied, "but I can slip hints to your professors about the REAL reason for your tardiness this semester. How many times have you used...what was it? Oh yes! 'Going to a funeral' as your excuse? Lying to get out of class IS something I can punish you for."
Lucy bowed her head in defeat.
Wells turned around to face Ray, Egon and Peter.
"Now it's not really appropriate for me to do so," he said to them. "But I ask you to consider not pressing charges. For old times sake?"
"Hey, I remember being a student." Peter said, "I did much worse way back when."
"I suppose so," Ray said.
A pair of security guards began to escort the group of students out of the building. Lucy looked back and furled her brow at them as she walked.
"It's been way too long, Paul!" Peter said, "What's old PW been up to?"
Wells smiled.
"Yes Venkman, it HAS been some time..." He said, "I'd almost forgotten that nickname."
"How did that debate on particle vibration go?" Egon asked.
"Very good, thanks for asking!" Wells answered, "unfortunately, the accident happened shortly after."
Wells tapped his leg with his cane for emphasis.
"After that my travels were cut down a bit."
"Uh, excuse me guys," Winston said. "I hate to break up this moment, but... who's this?"
"Oh, that's right!" Ray said slapping his forehead. "You haven't met. This is Professor Paul Wells, he-"
"That's DEAN Wells now, Mr. Stantz."Wells interrupted, "Yeager retired a short time ago. I managed to get the position."
"Right, sorry." Ray said, "Dean Wells was a friend of ours back when we worked back at the university. He was part of our little club when we started to get into studying ghosts."
"Weren't you three kicked out?" Winston asked.
"They were," Wells replied. "I was heading to Albany for a presentation while they were off... chasing the Gray Lady."
"You should definitely come over to the firehouse, you'll love to see the equipment!" Ray said.
"Indeed! But another time, I'm afraid." Wells responded. "I merely came to ensure my student's protest would stay peaceful. I owed you that much at least. Unfortunately, I can't stand up for too long or this leg will become unbearable. But you should run along, your fans are waiting."
"We'll have Jeannie call your people," Peter said.
"Looking forward to it," Wells replied.
The mystery crew saw the whole event.
"Hey, that's Paul Wells!" Velma said.
"Who?" Shaggy asked.
"I saw him in the parking lot," she answered. "But what's he doing with the Ghostbusters?"
"Well, I'm sure he's a big fan," Fred said. "This is a good opportunity to meet them. Speaking of which, anyone want an autograph? If so, we should get over to the guest section."
As they moved out, that same set of mysterious eyes watched them from behind a stall...
Author's Note: Well looks like a lot has happened in this chapter….and the Scooby gang and the Ghostbuster haven't even meet yet, but very soon enough.
Now the next chapter is where things will….hit the fan!
Till then as I said at the start….MERRY CHIRSTMAS AND HAPPY HOLDIAYS TOO ONE AND ALL!