Shaggy woke up to the blaring of his alarm clock, the sound a jarring assault on his already throbbing head. He fumbled to shut it off, but the pain lingered, a dull ache that pulsed through his skull. He realized with a groan that he didn't feel well at all. His entire body ached, his head felt stuffed with cotton, and his throat was raw and scratchy.
He tried to soothe it with a sip of water from his nightstand, but the effort of swallowing was agonizing, his throat swollen and inflamed. A fit of hacking coughs erupted from his chest, a dry, rattling sound that made his head throb even more. Snot dripped from his nostrils, and his throat felt heavy with phlegm. Coughing again, he wiped his nose on his pajama sleeve and climbed out of bed, his legs shaky and weak.
Shaggy looked around, his gaze falling on the empty space where Scooby usually lay. Probably already downstairs. He thought.
He felt a shiver run through him, despite the fact it was one of the warmest weeks of summer. There was no doubt about it, he was sick. His arms wrapped around his torso as a soft frown settled on his face. There were few things in the world he hated more than the summer flu. He loathed being stuck inside on beautiful days, bedridden and feeling miserable. Another bout of coughing seized him, and he pressed his fist against his mouth to muffle the sound.
Shaggy forced himself to get up, his aching body trembling with each step. He trudged to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale and drawn, his eyes red-rimmed and weary.
Like, I look as bad as I feel. Shaggy thought, "Like, you don't look so good," he mumbled, his voice strained.
"Like, well you're no prize either!" the REFLECTION shot back, its voice dripping with sarcasm.
Shaggy felt his head spin, his vision blurring, "Whoa, I feel dizzy," he groaned.
"You gotta get oxygenated! Deep breath. Deep breath," his reflection instructed, its tone becoming surprisingly helpful.
Shaggy took a deep breath, only to be corrected by his reflection, "Not through your mouth, dude. Through your nose!"
Shaggy's face twisted in a grimace, But like, my nose is stuffy," he explained, his voice muffled by his congestion.
"Sure it is..." his reflection said sarcastically.
Suddenly, a trumpet materialized where his reflection's nose should be, blasting out a fanfare of music. Other Shaggys, each a different color, appeared around him, playing instruments and dancing in a nonsensical, surreal symphony. Shaggy rubbed his eyes, the music fading as quickly as it had appeared. The reflection was back to normal, its face now a mixture of concern and amusement.
"Like, I think I'm getting a little delirious," Shaggy confessed, placing a hand on his throbbing head.
He splashed cold water on his face, the coolness offering a brief respite from his fever. He grabbed his toothbrush and started brushing his teeth, his swollen throat making him want to gag with every stroke. But he liked his teeth clean, so he persisted. He rinsed the brush, added more toothpaste, and started scrubbing his tongue. Another fit of coughing erupted, his eyes watering from the strain. Finally, he finished, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth.
He needed to find a way to make himself feel better. Maybe Aunt Muriel keeps cold/flu medicine in the medicine cabinet, and if I like, take that and a shower, I'll probably be alright.
In the kitchen that morning, Muriel was a sneezing machine, her face contorted with each explosive blast. Scooby and Courage watched, their normally jovial demeanor replaced with concerned frowns. Despite their worried protests, Muriel insisted on making breakfast, her determination fueled by a misplaced sense of domesticity. As she tried to serve Eustace his breakfast, a particularly violent sneeze sent the scrambled eggs flying, landing squarely on her husband's face.
Courage gasped, his tiny heart thumping in his chest. Oh my gosh, I don't think I ever seen Muriel this sick before.
"Ruriel are you okay?" Scooby inquired, his voice laced with concern.
"I'm fine dear, just a little congested," Muriel replied, before sneezing.
Eustace lowered his newspaper to show the two sunny-side eggs still on his face. He then turned to face Muriel, "Muriel! What are you trying to do!? Get me sick!?"
But then Eustace ate the eggs that Muriel SNEEZED on moments ago.
Both dogs expressed their disgust.
Scooby's guttural, "Rhat's just nasty," echoing in the room.
"I'm sorry, Eustace. This is the worst cold I ever-" Muriel began, but another sneeze stopped her.
"I got you Muriel!" Courage declared, his valiant spirit kicking in. He grabbed a nearby chair and caught Muriel just before she could topple over, his tiny frame straining under her weight.
"Thank you Courage," Muriel sniffled.
"You're welcome," Courage grunted, feeling the pressure of his owner's weight. Once Muriel was back on her feet, Courage went over to Scooby, "Scooby, do you know where Shaggy is?"
Before Scooby could answer, they heard a familiar, hoarse voice.
"Like, morning everyone," Shaggy rasped, his cheeks flushed and feverish, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.
Scooby's smile instantly vanished, "Rhoa, Raggy! Rou look like you haven't slept in a week!"
"Yeah, are you okay?" Courage asked, his voice laced with worry. Not only was Muriel sick, but Shaggy too, a growing sense of dread tightening his chest.
"Yeah, I just like, h-have a little bit of a cold little pink dude," Shaggy replied groggily. "But I'm okay. ACHOO!" He let out a harsh sneeze, sending a spray of droplets into the air.
Scooby, however, knew better. Shaggy had a habit of downplaying his illnesses, brushing them off as simple colds, even when they were clearly much worse. Shaggy sat down next to Scooby.
"RI've saved you some food," Scooby offered, pushing a plate of pancakes and bacon towards his best friend.
"Thanks Scoob, but I'm not hungry," Shaggy mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.
Scooby and Courage stared in amazement. Shaggy refusing food? It was unheard of. Shaggy broke out in a coughing fit, his body racked with spasms. A look of worry flashed on both Scooby and Courage's faces as Shaggy began to wheeze. Scooby started rubbing Shaggy's back.
Raggy must be really sick. Scooby thought, shaking his head.
"Perhaps a wee spot of tea will fix us right up," Muriel said, getting up.
Shaggy's confusion grew. She's sick too?
Muriel was about to sneeze again, but it was a false alarm, "Ow," she moaned while holding her face in pain.
Shaggy, sensing his own sneeze coming on, started, "Aunt Muriel, are you okay-AH! AH! AH!" before being cut short.
Realizing the situation was urgent, Scooby barked, "Rourage, tissues,"
"Right," Courage grabbed a box, tossing one to Scooby before fashioning a protective glove from a dozen tissues.
"AH-CHOO!" Shaggy and Muriel sneezed simultaneously, but to their shock, they didn't just blow out snot, they ejected a projection of a chained slug!
Scooby yelped in bewilderment, "Rikes!"
Courage screamed in horror, sending tissues flying across the room.
"We don't want any," Eustace said, not even paying attention.
"Did someone say something?" Muriel asked, holding her head.
Shaggy, on the verge of another sneeze, started, "Like, what on earth was-" but before he could finish, he and Muriel sneezed again, the chained slug projection reappearing.
Shaggy, startled, "Zoinks," exclaimed, and was sent into another coughing fit.
"Oh my!" Muriel said, shocked.
"This here urgent message has been prerecorded right into the cold and sent by magic," the slug said.
Scooby and Shaggy simultaneously cried out, "What!?/Rhat?!"
Courage screamed so loud, that his eyes screwed out of his head like light bulbs.
"I knew this wasn't an ordinary cold," Muriel said, as the projection faded.
Shaggy, trying to process the bizarre situation, thought, But like, what could this mean? His thoughts were interrupted by another simultaneous sneeze with Muriel, bringing the chained slug projection back.
"We apologize for your discomfort, having to send you both this cold and all, but we sure need your help," the chained slug said.
"Help? Help with what?" Courage asked, what could these slugs needed help with and why give his owner and best friend the colds?
"We'll explain everything in detail when we meet in person. For now, just know that we all are slaves in a sweatshop. We'd be obliged if y'all would come and set us free."
Scooby, confused, thought, Ree from what?
"And just so you know, those colds ain't going away till you get your sneezing self down here for the cold. Here's how to get where we are," the chained slug said, pulling out a map. He then began to give the coordinates and how to get to his location.
The dogs gasped in astonishment while Shaggy, stunned silent, stared at the map.
Courage, finally finding his voice, exclaimed, "We gotta help Muriel, Shaggy and those slugs!"
The ten-hour journey to the bayou was a long and arduous one, stretching the family's patience thin. Muriel, perched on her rocking chair, surveyed the landscape with a steady gaze, her features etched with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Courage kept the raft moving with determined strokes, his heart pounding with each push of the paddle.
Shaggy's body burned with a relentless fever, lay fast asleep beside Scooby, his face pale and clammy. Scooby watched over his friend with worried eyes, his own fur bristling with concern.
"RI hope we get there soon," Scooby whimpered, his voice laced with worry. He had never seen Shaggy this ill, and the thought of his best friend suffering filled him with fear.
The boundary of the swampland, a stark contrast to the familiar countryside, loomed ahead. A dense forest of gnarled trees, twisted and contorted by time and the harsh environment, stretched before them, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.
The air hung heavy with moisture, carrying the sounds of numerous frogs croaking their guttural calls. Every now and then, a splash would erupt as a frog made its way through the murky water. The sight of these creatures filled Scooby and Courage with a creeping dread, their imaginations conjuring up the gruesome and unknown creatures hidden beneath the surface.
"Boys look, I think we found the swamp," Muriel said, pointing ahead of them.
"Whoa/Rhoa," Scooby and Courage exclaimed, their voices trembling with fear.
As the raft ventured deeper into the swamp, an eerie silence descended upon them. The shadows danced and shifted, casting strange and distorted shapes on the water. Scooby noticed numerous stuffed puppets resembling snakes, their bodies hanging from the gnarled branches. His heart pounded in his chest, and a shiver ran down his spine. Courage, his tail tucked between his legs, whimpered, his eyes wide with apprehension.
"I think we found the spot," Muriel said, as Scooby changed direction to land on a small clearing free of tall grass.
"I don't like this," Courage whimpered, his voice laced with terror.
The snakeskin puppets, towering over them, seemed to mock their fear.
Scooby, his throat tight with anxiety, mumbled, "Re-Re neither."
"Boys, I don't think they're real," Muriel reassured the frightened dogs, before coughing.
Suddenly, Courage, his fear momentarily forgotten, reached out and poked one of the puppets. To his relief, it was cold and lifeless, just a simple stuffed toy. However, his poking caused the puppet to topple over, falling onto Courage, who let out a screech of horror and disgust.
Scooby, startled by his friend's scream, joined in, filling the clearing with a chorus of terrified yelps.
This sudden commotion startled Shaggy awake. He opened his eyes, his gaze fixated on the snakeskin puppet draped over Courage, and let out a startled, "Zoinks!"
"Get it off me! Get it off me!" Courage cried, his voice edged with panic.
Scooby, scrambling to his feet, quickly removed the puppet, his heart pounding in his chest. "Rare you okay, Rourage!?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.
"Yeah… Yeah I am now," Courage replied, trying to calm his racing pulse.
Shaggy, still half-asleep, his mind muddled by the fever, looked at the snakeskin with confusion, "Like dudes, what were those things!?" he stammered, barely able to keep his eyes open. A violent sneeze erupted from his lips, a testament to his weakened state. Despite his supposed nap, Shaggy was clearly not getting any better. He hadn't been doing well before, and his condition seemed to be worsening with each passing moment.
Before either Scooby or Courage could offer an explanation, a voice echoed from the distance.
"Well, hey. I didn't mean to scare you. Just setting up a statue of Big Bayou," the slug said, before piercing the ground with the bottom of the snake statue.
"Big Bayou?/Rig Rayou?" Shaggy, Scooby and Courage questioned in unison, bewildered by the name.
"He's the snake that got us shackled here."
"Zoinks! A snake!?" Shaggy exclaimed, letting out a sneeze and a cough, a mixture of fear and illness manifesting in his reactions, "Oh man! Like, it's bad enough that me and my aunt are sick, but now we have to deal with a snake too!?" he lamented, his voice strained.
"ACHOO!" Shaggy and Muriel sneezed, the sound of their coughs echoing through the swamp, a testament to the illness that had taken hold.
"Ress you," Scooby said, handing his owner a tissue.
"Thanks Scoob," haggy responded, blowing his nose with a sniffle.
"That lady and the kid must be the ones that caught the colds we sent. Glad you all could come to free us," the slug said.
Scooby turned his gaze towards the slug, his eyes questioning. Rhen why did you have to get Ruriel and my Raggy sick, when there were other ways you could have done!?
"Why don't y'all come on inside, and we'll explain the whole mess to you," the slug said, before returning to a cave made out of the grass.
"Come on, boys, let's see what we can do to help," Muriel said, before sneezing.
"Take it easy, Muriel," Courage said, gently guiding her towards the slug's abode.
Scooby got to his feet, reaching out a paw to help Shaggy up. Shaggy, shaky and weak, rose to his feet, only to lose his balance almost immediately. It was only Scooby's quick thinking and steady support that prevented him from collapsing entirely.
Scooby put an arm over Shaggy's shoulder, helping him stay upright as they moved towards the slug's dwelling. As they drew closer, the cowardly trio heard a growl emanating from the swamp's depths.
"Like, what was that?" Shaggy asked timidly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Breathing heavily, Courage turned back to his best friends, his face etched with a desperate look, "I think we should head inside."
"Ragreed," Scooby nodded, his voice filled with agreement, as he and his friends rushed into the safety of the slug's house.
The sight that greeted them was one of despair. Several slugs, their bodies bound in shackles, frantically stuffed leaves into snake statues, their movements punctuated by the mournful clink of chains. Their work ceased abruptly as they turned, their faces etched with surprise, towards the newcomers.
"THEY'VE COME TO SAVE US!" the slug wearing a propeller hat cheered.
"Take it easy, slugs. We owe our guests some explanation," the slug they had just met, which we now realized is the leader, said. "It's like this, Big Bayou's a powerful snake and very vain. He loves himself, he kept us prisoner, here for years. Us making the stuffed statues of him out of the skin he sheds. It's torture."
"Yeah, and the dental coverage stinks," the slug with the propeller hat said while showing that he only had one tooth in his mouth.
"Big Bayou's magic put us here, and only Big Bayou's magic can break our shackles."
"Like, I'm so sorry you have to go through all of that slug dudes," Shaggy offered, his voice muffled by another coughing fit.
"That all bad and all, but what about curing Shaggy and Muriel?" Courage cried out, his voice filled with concern as he watched his best friend and owner cough violently. He even transformed into a miniature version of Muriel to emphasize the urgency of the situation.
"Uh, well, we'd love to cure them, but uh..." the lead slug began.
"We don't know how," the young slug finished.
"Roh, come on!" Scooby complained, his frustration growing as he watched his human companions suffer.
"We were only able to steal just a smidge of magic from Big Bayou- Just enough to get our message out in a microbe," the lead slug explained with the young slug pulling out the paper.
"You've got to find a way-" Muriel began, but a sneeze cut her off, causing the rest of the slugs to retreat to the other side of the room.
"Where can we find the rest of the spell!?" Courage asked, trying to ignore the cold lump of apprehension that was gathering in his stomach.
"Well, all you got to do is get your hands on Big Bayou's book of Big Bayou magic. He's got all his magic in there. Then you can cure your friends," the lead slug answered.
"Yeah, and free us," the young slug added, with the other slugs joining.
Shaggy, Scooby, and Courage shared an uneasy glance, the weight of the task sinking in. This was harder than they'd imagined.
"I'll try." Muriel said, but sat down afterward as she began to feel dizzy, "Maybe I'll take a wee nap."
"Aunt Muriel!/Ruriel!/Muriel!" Shaggy, Scooby, and Courage gasped, their voices tinged with panic.
"GET US OUT OF HERE! HURRY!" the other slugs kept repeating.
"Like, come on dudes, let's get that cure-AH-AHH-CHOOO!" Shaggy let out another sneeze, his entire body shaking.
Scooby and Courage groaned. The last thing Shaggy needed to be doing was dragging himself along on a mission. He really needed to be sleeping.
"Ro Raggy you need to stay here," Scooby strictly ordered, his voice commanding, "Rou're in no condition to do anything right now."
"Like, I'm not going to lie down in bed while you dudes are risking your lives for ours," Shaggy said, quickly turning his head as he coughed, "I want to get cured as soon as possible, and I'm not going to let this cold bring me down."
"Shaggy, you're gonna get worse if you don't rest!" Courage scolded. Why can't he just rest and let us handled it, now I know where he get's his stubbornness from. He thought, thinking about Eustace.
"You're not gonna changed my mind guys!" Shaggy letting out another irritated cough, then headed out towards outside.
"Is Shaggy always like this when he's sick?" Courage asked, turning his gaze towards the Great Dane, a mixture of worry and exasperation etched on his face.
"Rou have no Idea," Scooby commented, a sigh escaping his lips as he and Courage raced outside towards Shaggy.
Shaggy, his breath coming in ragged gasps, stumbled through the murky swamp, ignoring the worried calls of Scooby and Courage.
"Raggy!" Scooby cried, his voice growing frantic, "Rait!"
Courage, his small frame straining with the effort of keeping up, tried to reason with Shaggy. "Shaggy, you really need to go back to that slugs's place and rest!" he urged, his tone laced with concern.
"Little pink dude, I'm fine!" Shaggy groaned in exasperation, unable to grasp the gravity of their friend's worry.
"Shaggy, look at you! You could barley stand!" Courage retorted crossly, his voice strained with worry.
Scooby, his tail wagging weakly, tried to take another step, but his hind leg sank into the thick, brown peat. He tugged, trying to pull it free, but the mud only gripped him tighter, pulling him deeper, "Ruh guys…" he whimpered, his voice laced with fear.
Shaggy, lost in his own world of self-denial, ignored Scooby's pleas, "I've had colds before and I think I can handle this mission!" he declared stubbornly.
"Ruys!" Scooby pleaded again, desperation creeping into his voice. But once more, his plea was met with silence.
"Yeah, but this isn't an ordinary cold!" Courage snapped, his patience wearing thin.
"RUYS!" Scooby's yell, raw with panic, pierced the air. Shaggy and Courage, startled by the sheer terror in their friend's voice, finally turned to face him.
They looked down in terror as Scooby, his shoulders stretching in a futile attempt to pull himself free, sank deeper into the mud.
"Re're sinking!" he wailed, his voice filled with raw terror. His forepaws slipped further down, disappearing into the thick ooze, until he was buried to his knees.
Shaggy and Courage stared, paralyzed with horror, as they realized their own feet, their own paws, were disappearing into the same thick, sucking mud.
"Like, I can't move!" Shaggy exclaimed fearfully, his body trembling as a sneeze tickled his nose. As the sneeze erupted from him, he tumbled over his ankles and descended into the unforgiving ground.
Courage watched in horror as any slight movement caused him, Shaggy and Scooby to sink deeper into the treacherous mud. The mud, once a harmless patch of earth, had transformed into a treacherous trap, growing thicker and oozier with every passing moment, making movement agonizingly slow.
Courage's eyes widened in terror as the realization washed over him, "Guys… guys, don't move a muscle! We're sinking in QUICKSAND!" he cried out, his voice laced with desperation.
"QUICKSAND!?/RUICKSAND!?" Shaggy and Scooby echoed in shock, their voices trembling with fear.
"ZOINKS!" Shaggy screamed frantically, his legs disappearing beneath the mud.
"RELP! RE'RE STUCK!" Scooby shrieked, his wetness rising past his stomach and soaking his flanks. As the mud climbed his chest, his chin lifted higher and higher.
"Guys, guys stay calm! Please!" Courage begged, his voice trembling.
Shaggy plastered a forced smile on his face and kept his hands up, his waist now deeply immersed in the quicksand. "Like, I'm calm, I'm cool… it's cool…" he stammered, his voice betraying his true fear.
"Re-Re-Re too," Scooby stammered, his entire being fighting to remain composed.
Courage steadied himself, his body rigid. He knew that staying still was futile, for they were still sinking. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum, threatening to burst out of his ribcage. Despite his inner turmoil, he maintained an outward facade of calmness. We need to get out! the terrified thought screamed in his mind.
"Shaggy, calm down and listen to my instructions," Courage said to him, his own voice a whimper. It was an awful feeling, this bog of cold mud pressing against his legs, threatening to swallow him whole. "Grab that branch that's behind you and pull yourself out."
Turning his head, Shaggy grabbed the sturdy branch, his grip tight with a desperate hope. "Got it!" he shouted, pushing upwards with all his might. The branch, planted firmly on the solid earth near a stand of tall grass, offered a flicker of hope, but it was quickly extinguished as the branch snapped under his weight. Shaggy let out a scream, his body sinking further, now disappearing beneath his hips.
"Shaggy!/Raggy!" Scooby and Courage wailed in unison, their voices a testament to the growing fear that enveloped them.
"Rany other ideas Rourage!?" Scooby shrieked, his panic gnawing at his insides, his hope dwindling with each passing moment.
Courage's mind raced, growing more hysterical as he frantically waved his arms in the air. The thought of his paws or even his arms touching this treacherous surface sent shivers down his spine. How could he ever pull himself out after that? His head swiveled like an owl, desperately searching for any escape, any anchor point
Calm down, Courage thought to himself. Panicking only makes everything worse. He forced his gaze down the treacherous pathway, the once-visible ground disappearing under a layer of the menacingly viscous mud. The fear gnawed at him, fueled by the growing darkness below.
"Little pink dude, hurry!" Shaggy's voice, laced with desperation, cut through his anxious thoughts. The mud had already claimed Shaggy up to his chest, his face contorted in a mask of terror.
Courage's eyes darted upwards, his gaze falling upon a sturdy tree branch, arching over the quicksand like a precarious bridge. A spark of hope ignited in his chest. He snatched a rope, his trembling paws finding purchase on the worn fibers. With a practiced flick of his wrist, born from years of facing the unknown, he whipped the rope around the branch, securing it with a tight knot. Yes! He breathed a sigh of relief, a tiny sliver of triumph in the face of such fear. But his relief was short-lived. As he began his ascent, pulling himself upwards with every ounce of strength, he realized the branch was not as strong as it seemed. It creaked ominously under his weight, groaning like a weary giant pushed beyond its limits.
"Roh-no," Scooby's whimper, filled with a primal fear, echoed through the air, his big eyes pleading for the branch to hold. Rease, please don't break!
Courage emitted little whimpering noises of his own, praying with every inch he pulled himself free. He could feel the rope riding up in back as the cold mud pressed against it. The branch, unable to hold Courage's weight any longer, snapped. The pink beagle sank well over his stomach, the mud reaching his chest! The rope landed in the mud along with the branch, a cruel twist of fate. How was it that objects like branches, or even a rope, could float against quicksand?
"Oh man," Shaggy panicked, "Little pink dude, what are we gonna-" he began, his voice trailing off as a scratchy, insistent tickle took hold of his throat, "Oh-no," he whimpered, the realization dawning on him with a sickening jolt.
A violent fit of coughing racked his body, followed by a burst of sneezes that shook him to his core. The force of his sudden, uncontrolled spasms pushed him deeper into the suffocating embrace of the mud, sending a wave of horror through Scooby and Courage.
"Raggy, stop!" Scooby exclaimed, his voice laced with desperation.
The thick, viscous mud crept relentlessly up Shaggy's chin, his eyes widening in terror as it slowly engulfed him. His mouth, already muffled by the encroaching clay, was soon completely sealed, silencing his screams and cutting off his air supply. His nose, stuffed and congested, offered no escape. The mud relentlessly pressed against him, cold and heavy, as if it were deliberately trying to silence him, to swallow him whole.
Shaggy's eyes darted around frantically, searching for a way out, a glimmer of hope, but the only thing he saw was the mud, closing in around him, a creeping darkness consuming his world. He met Scooby and Courage's terrified gazes, their faces etched with the stark realization that their best friend was being dragged into the abyss. Shaggy shut his eyes tight, the mud reaching his nose, the suffocating pressure increasing with each passing second.
He was drowning, slowly, silently, sinking into a quicksand pit of brown, sticky death. The mud swallowed the rest of his head, the surface closing up above him, sealing his fate. A heavy, suffocating pressure, a relentless grip of thick, sticky clay pressed against him from every direction, making it impossible to draw even a single breath.
"SHAGGY!/RAGGY!" Scooby and Courage roared in unison, their voices echoing in the chilling silence.
Scooby stretched out a desperate hand, his paws clawing at the mud, trying to pull his best friend back. He shoved clumps of the viscous clay away from Shaggy's face, but the quicksand was relentless, a hungry beast pulling him under. Thick bubbles rose to the surface, popping with a sickening splattering sound against Scooby's face, each one a cruel reminder of Shaggy's struggle.
"RAGGY, NO!" Scooby sobbed, his voice breaking, unable to accept the gut-wrenching reality. He felt his chin brush the surface of the mud, a chilling sense of the quicksand's deadly grip. Tipping his head back, he felt the peat suck at his chin, pulling him towards the same fate.
"Scooby don't move!" Courage wailed, his voice choked with terror. He yearned to help his best friend, to pull him from the clutches of the quicksand, but he was trapped in the same deadly embrace.
Scooby jerked his head around, "ROUR!-" a desperate roar cut short as the mud folded over his mouth, robbing him of his voice. The peat flooded Scooby's mouth, forcing him to slam his jaws shut, desperately drawing air through his nose as the mud seeped up around his cheeks. Panic surged through him, his eyes widening with a terror that mirrored the relentless advance of the quicksand. Inches away from being fully submerged, Scooby looked up at Courage, his eyes pleading for salvation, a silent scream trapped in his fear-stricken gaze. The feeling of dread was overwhelming, a cold hand squeezing his heart as he felt the clock ticking down to his demise.
Courage, a mirror image of Scooby's despair, watched in horror as his best friend's fear became etched in his eyes. "Scooby! Scooby, no! Don't leave me! Don't leave me!" Courage screamed, his voice cracking with terror.
The mud rose, covering Scooby's nose, cutting off his air supply. Only the top of his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and a desperate plea for help, remained above the surface. He tried to move, to break free, but the mud held him fast. The quicksand bubbled and gurgled around his ears, the sound mocking his struggle. His eyes darted around, panic fueling every movement. The mud, relentless and cold, claimed his spine, his legs numb and useless. He was trapped, his eyes fixed on Courage, a silent plea for salvation in their depths.
Scooby forced his eyes closed, the sand particles stinging his face. The mud continued its relentless assault, creeping over his forehead and ears, sealing him in its suffocating embrace. His eyes disappeared beneath the mire, the world fading to black. Panic surged through him, a primal fear that threatened to consume him. He held his breath, hoping against hope, feeling the pull of the quicksand dragging him under. Courage's horror was a silent scream as he watched the last vestiges of Scooby disappear beneath the churning mud. Scooby's head vanished in a swirl of earth, leaving only his ears, slowly being dragged down, visible on the surface. A final spray of bubbles, a macabre farewell, marked the end of Scooby's struggle.
"SCOOBY!" Courage screamed, his voice choked with despair.
Bubbles rose to the surface from the spot where Scooby had been, mockingly echoing the terror in Courage's heart. He desperately tried to move, to reach Scooby, but his own body betrayed him, only sinking him deeper into the suffocating mud. The thick muck had already covered his neck, and with every panicked movement, he sank faster, the cold earth closing in on him. Courage shot down past his neck, the mud now up to his chin, the pink beagle's eyes wide with fear. He was moments away from going under, a cold dread gripping his heart.
Thinking quickly, he leaned his head back, buying himself precious seconds. His ears, thankfully, began to float on the surface, a desperate lifeline in a sea of mud. Courage forced himself to shut out the terrifying memories of his past, the countless times he'd faced danger and near-death.
Instead, he clung to the happy times, the laughter shared with Shaggy and Scooby, the warmth of Muriel's love. But as the seconds ticked by, the mud relentlessly crept up, eventually sealing his mouth, the thick clay folding over his nose, cutting off his oxygen. Panic surged through him, his eyes darting frantically in all directions, desperately trying to take in one last view of his surroundings.
The thick, suffocating clay pressed against him, a cold, heavy weight that threatened to crush him. Finally, his eyes closed tightly as the muddy abyss swallowed him whole, pulling him under with a chilling finality. His ears lingered on the surface for a fleeting moment before being dragged down into the thick swirl of wet earth and water, leaving behind a trail of air bubbles rising to the surface, a ghostly reminder of his struggle.
Deep beneath the mire, Courage's eyes remained closed, his body slowly going numb. His right arm stretched above his head, reaching out as if seeking a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. Tears welled up inside him, a silent, desperate plea for forgiveness.
I'm sorry, Shaggy, I'm sorry Scooby, I'm sorry Muriel. He thought, the weight of his failure crushing him. I tried so hard and I wasn't good enough…
The inescapable wetness of the quicksand pressed against him from all sides, an unrelenting force squeezing the life out of him. And then, just as he felt his last breath slipping away, he was pulled through the quicksand, falling out into empty space. With a surprised, "Oof!" he slammed hard into something furry.
It was Scooby! Relieved and exhausted, Scooby and Shaggy scrambled off their best friend, coughing up the sand they had swallowed and gasping for air. A few seconds of frantic coughing and recovery later, they were back on their feet, shaken but alive.
"Rare you okay Rourage?" Scooby coughed, his voice thick with concern.
"I'm okay," Courage gasped, "I only swallowed a bit," a hacking cough cut him off, and he spewed up muddy water.
"Like, little pink dude, do you know where we are?" Shaggy rasped, before letting out another hard cough.
Courage looked up, his head spinning, and saw they were in some sort of hideout. A door beckoned them, promising escape.
"I think some sort of hide out," Courage gasped.
"Like, we should go," Shaggy turned away and walked towards the door, his strength failing him.
Scooby and Courage exchanged a worried look. Taking an obviously extremely sick Shaggy on a mission seemed like a terrible idea, but they had no choice.
The cowardly trio's hearts pounding like drum solos, cautiously navigated the winding path. The first path had ended abruptly, but a second, shadowed route quickly revealed itself, guided by the eerie presence of numerous snake statues. They served as both ominous décor and unintentional signposts, their cold, reptilian eyes silently watching their every move.
Shaggy, shivering under his flannel blanket, wished with all his being that he could be tucked away in his own bed, but the responsibility to protect his canine companions fueled his dwindling energy.
Like, Scoob and the little dog dude has other, more important things to worry about. He thought, pulling the blanket tighter. He knew he should tell his friends about his illness, knowing they wouldn't hesitate to take care of him, but the thought of burdening them with his problems felt unbearable. This isn't that big of a deal. Like, dude, you have to learn to take care of yourself anyway, Shaggy. Everybody gets sick.
"Wow/Row," they gasped in unison as they emerged onto the trail's end, their eyes widening in horror at the sight of Big Bayou's lair – a grotesque, monstrous snake head carved into the very earth itself.
"Rither he's in vain like the slug said, or he is really in love with himself," Scooby commented, his voice laced with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
"Let's just get the book and return to the-" Courage began, his words cut short by the squeaking of the lair's door.
"Ride!" Scooby commanded, a stark warning in his voice.
Shaggy, Scooby, and Courage darted into the tall grass, their bodies trembling with adrenaline.
"That must be Big Bayou," Courage muttered, his voice barely a squeak. A massive, crimson snake slithered out of the lair, its scales shimmering in the sunlight. Courage squeezed his eyes shut, his heart pounding against his ribs, though not from fear of the snake itself. It was the sheer absurdity of the situation, the stark contrast between the enormous, fearsome beast and the seemingly mundane act of admiring itself, that sent chills down his spine. Don't let him see us!
The sight of the monstrous creature sent a shiver down the trio's spines.
"Hello, me," Big Bayou said, talking to a snake statue and poking it with his tail. "Don't I look fine? I am so beautiful. I think I'll go and see how all the other Mes are doing, but first."
He then proceeded to shed his skin, a disgusting, slimy act that made the trio cringe in disgust.
RI heard of loving and admiring yourself, but this is ridiculous. Scooby thought bitterly.
Big Bayou tossed his old skin onto a nearby pile, he then slithered toward the direction of the bayou, "I am pretty. I love me."
A wave of nausea washed over Shaggy, the headache a throbbing hammer against his skull. The world spun faster with every labored breath he took, his energy depleted by a combination of fever, low blood sugar, and the relentless assault of his own illness. He was losing the fight, the spinning room making him feel like he was teetering on the edge of a precipice. His legs, shaky and weak, threatened to give way, but he couldn't bring himself to fall, the weight of his stubborn pride pressing down on him. He pulled the blanket tighter, seeking a sliver of comfort in its flimsy embrace, but it only amplified the chill that had crept into his bones.
Okay! Shaggy cried mentally, the realization finally crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Like, I can't take it anymore! I admit it! I'm really, really sick!
His lips trembled, and tears, hot and heavy with the weight of his defiance, traced paths down his feverish cheeks. The bitter taste of regret filled his mouth, a stark reminder of his own folly.
He had lied about his condition, pushed himself beyond his limits, and disregarded the warnings from his friends. A mission he knew he couldn't handle, a risk he shouldn't have taken. His actions, born from a misguided sense of duty, echoed now with the chilling possibility of deadly consequences.
"Like, dudes!" he sobbed hoarsely, his voice cracking with the effort. "Like, I admit it, okay? I'm really, really sick! I really thought I could do this, b-but I can't! I just feel so awful, and I want to go home!"
The words tumbled out, ragged and raw, as he finally broke, his facade crumbling under the weight of his illness. The sight of his best friend, slumped and sobbing, was a stark reminder of the danger they were all in. Another fit of coughing and sneezing seized him, racking his body and threatening to tear him apart.
This one was different, more violent, more desperate, and the terrifying thought of an upper respiratory infection on top of his already weakened state filled him with dread. He grabbed his stomach, seeking solace in the flimsy barrier of the blanket, and rocked back and forth, desperately trying to comfort himself. He was dimly aware of Courage's voice, a frantic jumble of concerned words that he couldn't decipher.
His head throbbed, a relentless jackhammer pounding away at his skull. A gentle paw landed on his forehead, a reassuring presence that he couldn't identify. The world was a blurry mess of shifting colors and distorted sounds, and the edges of his vision began to fade to black. Then, the darkness swallowed him whole.
"Raggy!" Scooby gasped, his paws going numb with alarm, the sight of his friend's collapse sending a wave of fear through him.
"Oh-no!" Courage yelped, his own voice filled with a mixture of shock and terror.
Scooby saw the faint rise and fall of Shaggy's chest, a sign that he was still alive, but barely, "Re need to get that book! Raggy's getting worse!" he cried, his voice heavy with urgency, desperate to save his best friend.
Courage, driven by a desperate need to help his friend, didn't hesitate. He bolted out of the tall grass, his paws pounding the earth as he rushed towards Big Bayou's house. Every second felt like an eternity, and a million terrible thoughts raced through his mind. What if Shaggy was dying? What if he were...
No! He thought, refusing to give into his own pessimistic thoughts. Courage refused to entertain such grim possibilities. How could he have been so foolish, letting Shaggy, already sick, tag along on this adventure? He should have been more firm, more protective!
What was Shaggy thinking? He wondered to himself. What was I thinking?
Reaching the door, Courage found it locked, "What? It's locked!?" he exclaimed, his dismay palpable, "Seriously?!"
He scrambled up to the upstairs window, peering inside. A jumble of books lay scattered, but the precious cure remained elusive. Composing himself, Courage stuck his paw into the window, sifting through the books. His arm, however, was too short. He couldn't reach.
"I hate doing this," he sighed, a whine escaping his lips.
Remembering his incredibly long tongue, he extended it, hoping to snag the book. It hit something firm, and he clung to it with all his might, praying it was the right book. His heart sank as he realized it was a book on motivational thinking. He let go, disappointment washing over him. The second book he retrieved with his tongue was about party tricks.
Where are you hiding that book? He thought, his frustration mounting. He was about to stretch his tongue further when he heard Big Bayou's voice, "I can't wait to look in my mirror. I love my look after I've looked at all my mes."
Turning, Courage saw Big Bayou lounging in a hot tub, talking to the other stuffed statues of himself.
He focused on his search, finally feeling another book. This time, he was sure it was the right one. But just as he was about to pull it out, he heard Big Bayou say, "Ooh! I am so lucky to be me."
Courage froze for a beat, but quickly moved his tongue, snagging the book and pulling it free, the force of his movement cracking a part of the house.
Anxiety pulsed in his ears as he raced through the tall grass, desperate to avoid Big Bayou's notice. He found Shaggy and Scooby, and his blood turned to ice. Shaggy's skin had turned a sickly green, splotched with warts. His best friend was fading before his eyes.
Scooby with stark horror, stared at his unconscious owner, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Re's gonna die! Terror resonated in his deep, guttural whimper.
"Scooby carried Shaggy, we need to get him back to the cave!" Courage barked, his voice trembling with urgency.
With a determined nod, Scooby hoisted Shaggy onto his massive shoulders, the full weight of the teenager burdening his frame. As they stumbled back towards their sanctuary, Courage trailed closely behind, his presence a beacon of hope amidst the suffocating terror.
Scooby and Courage, a whirlwind of worry, burst into the cave. Their hearts sank as they saw the state of Muriel. The uncommon cold had taken hold, turning her skin an unnatural green and erupting her face with warts, making her look uncannily like Shaggy.
"ACHOO!" Muriel sneezed, with her head inflating like a balloon.
Courage let out a scream, his fear for his family palpable.
"Re gotta find the cure!" Scooby declared urgently, his voice thick with concern.
"THEY GOT THE BOOK!" the young slug announced before heading toward them. "BUST US FREE! COME ON!"
Scooby, unable to ignore the ailing Shaggy, growled, "Rot until we cure our family!"
"Feel free to cure the lady and the kid first," the lead slug said, pulling the younger slug back.
Muriel moaned softly, the pain evident in her expression. Scooby, with a motherly instinct, placed a cool, wet rag on Shaggy's forehead, causing the cowardly teen to shiver involuntarily.
"Raggy!" Scooby wailed, his voice tinged with despair.
Determined to find a solution and unable to bear the sight of their suffering, Courage, with a burst of bravery, opened the book and quickly flipped through its pages. His eyes finally landed on a passage, a flicker of hope in his gaze.
"Okay. To cure The Uncommon Cold, have a four-legged creature perform this ritual," Courage read aloud.
He took a few steps back, his expression serious, and began to perform the ritual, which, surprisingly, required him to act like a chicken.
Scooby, confused, scratched his head, "Row is this supposed to be the cure?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.
"You got me," Courage replied, attempting a crow, which came out more like a squawk.
"Well, it doesn't seem to work," Muriel said between coughs.
"Maybe we should-" Courage began, tired and discouraged, but his words were cut short by an unexplainable grunt.
Before Scooby could utter a word, a glistening egg appeared beneath him, leaving them all bewildered.
"Oh, my," Muriel gasped.
"Retanding that did not happen," Scooby muttered, his voice heavy with the absurdity of the situation.
Courage, blushing with embarrassment, laughed nervously, he then picked up the egg and walked over to the table, grabbing two glasses from seemingly thin air.
He carefully cracked open the egg and poured the contents into the glasses. He handed one to Muriel, while Scooby took the other and quickly poured the antidote into Shaggy's mouth. In an instant, Shaggy's skin returned to its normal color, the warts vanished.
Letting out a weak groan, Shaggy opened his eyes, met with a blurry, vibrating world. The thumping of his heart seemed to echo in his vision, and despite frantic blinking, the haze refused to dissipate, "Wha-What happened?" he croaked, his voice cracking with each syllable.
"Raggy!" Scooby cried, enveloping his owner in a relieved hug, "Rour okay!"
Shaggy, his mind slowly clearing, recalled his sudden collapse, the overwhelming exhaustion that had sent him plummeting into unconsciousness amidst the lush green grass. "Like, I'm f-fine Scoob," he reassured his loyal companion, slowly pushing himself up.
"How do you feel, Muriel?" Courage asked, his voice laced with concern.
"I can breathe. I feel myself again," she answered.
"YAY!" Courage exclaimed, the relief palpable in his cheerful shout.
He then turned his attention to Shaggy, his heart swelling with joy at seeing his friend awake, "Shaggy you're awake!"
A knot of anxiety began to twist in Shaggy's stomach. How long had he been out? Before he could voice his concern, Courage's demeanor shifted, his usually calm composure replaced by a whirlwind of panicked worry.
In the blink of an eye, he was practically on top of Shaggy, shaking him with the force of a miniature earthquake. The cave, which had already been spinning with Shaggy's disoriented vision, now felt like a cosmic carousel with Courage's vigorous shaking.
"What were you THINKING?" Courage demanded, his voice barely above a squeak, but filled with a raw, unfiltered emotion, "Do you have any idea just how worry you made me and Scooby!? You could of died!"
Despite of being shaken like a snow globe, Shaggy couldn't help but crack a smile, "Like, I guess you knew how me and Scoob felt when you'd battled against Di Lung's robot dog dude," he quipped, a hint of playful teasing in his voice.
Courage let out a sigh, a small chuckle escaping his lips, "I guess the tables have turn, have they," he replied, the tension in his voice lessening as he acknowledged the shared experience of fear and vulnerability.
The shared experience, the near-death scare, it all melted away into a moment of shared understanding, followed by genuine laughter that echoed across the swamp. But their mirth was short-lived.
"NOW FREE US!" the slugs chanted.
"Okay, now, which spell can we use to free them?" Courage asked, his attention shifting back to the task at hand as Scooby flipped through the pages of the ancient spell book.
Their search was abruptly halted, a chilling hiss sending shivers down their spines.
"What the BAYOU's going on here?" he asked with a hiss. "Were you three messing with my Bayou magic?"
Panic seized the trio. Shaggy, Scooby, and Courage screamed in unison, fear propelling them out of the cave. Shaggy, clutching the book in his arms, led the charge.
"RHERE SHOULD WE GO!" Scooby shrieked, his voice high with terror.
"IN THE WATER!" Courage yelled, guiding them towards the safety of the lake.
As they swam frantically, Shaggy's voice, though tinged with fear, offered a glimmer of hope, "Like, maybe we could use a spell in this book to stop that big creepy snake dude," he suggested, desperate to find a way to defeat the monstrous Bayou Snake.
"I think I saw a spell that could help," Courage said, taking the book from Shaggy and flipping to the correct page, "Here it is."
"Rut how do we perform the spell, or is it a ritual?" Scooby asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Courage read aloud, his voice trembling slightly, "To make stuffed bayou snakes, your obedient servants, use deadly venom from a real bayou snake."
Shaggy, Scooby, and Courage exchanged horrified glances, their stomachs churning at the thought of such a gruesome task.
"Like, you gotta be kidding me," Shaggy groaned, his face losing all color. Like, nothing is ever easy, is it?
As if fate itself had conspired against them, or perhaps simply felt a need to add a touch of chaos, Big Bayou, the very snake whose venom was required for the recipe, suddenly slithered into view, revealing his fearsome fangs in a menacing grin. The trio froze, terror gripping them like a vice.
"AS WE SAY IN THE BAYOU! BYE YOU!" Big Bayou said, baring his fangs, his fangs bared in a terrifying display.
Icy dread flooded Shaggy and Scooby's veins as they watched the snake aim for Courage, their bodies paralyzed with fear.
"COURAGE WATCH OUT!" Shaggy screamed, his voice choked with panic.
Courage had no time to react. He could only scream in terror, instinctively grabbing the cookbook and using it to shield himself. He shut his eyes tight and braced himself for the onslaught, expecting the venomous fangs to meet his flesh any moment.
"What the bayou?" Big Bayou asked sounding, confused.
Confused, Courage cautiously opened his eyes, only to find Big Bayou struggling, his fangs caught in the pages of the cookbook.
"Little dog dude, the venom!" Shaggy reminded, pointing at the stone snake statues that were coming to life, their movements fuelled by the venom seeping from the pages.
"Oh-no!" Courage wailed, a wave of panic washing over him as he realized Big Bayou had freed his fangs. He scrambled onto a nearby stump, waving his hands towards the statues, "Servant snakes, obey," he commanded, his voice trembling slightly.
"Rool," Scooby muttered in awe, observing the snakes standing at attention, their bodies frozen in obedience to Courage's words.
"GO GET HIM!" Courage barked, his fear giving way to a newfound determination.
"NO!" Big Bayou screamed, terrified as the snake statues moved toward him. "HEY! YOU ALL... ARE ME! I CAN'T DO THIS!"
Shaggy, Scooby, and Courage all breathed a collective sigh of relief, their tension finally breaking.
"Like, I guess that's one way to admire yourself, eh dog dudes," Shaggy chuckled, nudging Scooby.
The three friends laughed, the tension dissipating like mist in the morning sun. It was good to see Shaggy back to his usual goofy self.
"Boys come here," the trio heard Muriel shout. They turned to see her waving, a damaged nail file in her hand.
Swimming over to her, Shaggy, Scooby and Courage noticed Muriel holding a damaged nail file. "I need a new file. But we got the slugs free."
"She's one big bayou mama!" the young slug said.
"Where's Big Bayou?" the lead slug asked.
"Oh, he won't be bothering you for a long time," Courage assured, a playful grin spreading across his face.
The morning sun streamed through the windows of the farmhouse, painting warm stripes across the breakfast table where Muriel sat, a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. Beside her, Courage sat perched on a chair, his head cocked in silent contemplation. Shaggy and Scooby, a stark contrast to the peaceful scene, were heartily devouring their pancakes, their faces smeared with syrup and their appetites seemingly insatiable.
"Ahh, it sure is lovely to sip tea just for the pleasure of it," Muriel said, smiling.
Courage nodded in agreement, his gaze then turning towards Shaggy, who was wolfing down his food with an almost frantic enthusiasm.
"It's good to see you eating Shag," Courage remarked, a tinge of relief in his voice.
"I know little pink dude! It was awful to not eating anything with that cold!" Shaggy exclaimed, his mouth still stuffed with pancake.
"Reah," Scooby mumbled, nodding in agreement as he devoured his own pancakes.
Courage chuckled, shaking his head at the sight of Shaggy's restored appetite. It's good to see Shaggy's normal huge appetite returning.
Suddenly Eustace barged into the room. "AHHH! Muriel! Shaggy-haired-fella! I caught your darn COLDS!" he complained, before sneezing. But it wasn't an ordinary sneeze as it was the uncommon cold sent by Big Bayou this time.
"HELP!" he shouted, severely injured and locked in shackles.
Courage sighed, a familiar weariness settling over him, "Here we go again," he muttered, beginning the ritual to find a cure.
"Like, huh?" Shaggy asked, confused, watching Courage's frantic movements.
Scooby simply replied, "Rust go with it Raggy," his eyes fixed on his breakfast, his mind already miles away from the impending chaos.
Epilogue
Shaggy, Scooby and Courage were looking at the readers.
"Hi dudes, I'm Shaggy Rogers, and these are my best buddies Scooby and the little pink dude Courage," Shaggy introduced.
"Uh Shaggy, we can introduce ourselves," Courage responded.
"Oh sorry," Shaggy sheepishly said.
"Rometimes everyday, when a person has a cold, they should think about if they should stay home to prevent the spread," Scooby said.
"And not help spread the virus," Courage added.
"Like, how many dudes you know have colds but refuse to stay home?" Shaggy asked the reader, "If you know a dude or you have a cold, stay home and not spread the virus!"
"Reah, tell your parents or a doctor," Scooby recommended.
"It's important now than ever to take care of yourself," Courage agreed.
"And like, make sure to get some rest!" Shaggy finished.
Well that's all for this chapter, next will be Farmer-Hunter, Farmer-Hunted. I like to thank Aartman7141999 schweenieboy and Angry9guy for the quotes and ideas. Also I got the idea of the quicksand scene from one of my favorite movies of all time The Brave Little Toaster. Let me guys know in the reviews/comments of what should I do for the future episodes or next chapter. And what Courage should say in future chapters. Until then this is vakarns signing out.
Farmer-Hunter, Farmer-Hunted: Eustace tries to prove that he can hunt like his deceased brother, Horst. But the deer families are tired of being hunted and the father deer decides to hunt Eustace instead. Shaggy, Scooby and Courage hosts a game show to see who gets to shoot whom.