From thymosin@geocities.com Thu Mar 06 13:37:51 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: scooby story
From: Thymosin <thymosin@geocities.com>
Date: Thu, 06 Mar 1997 13:37:51 -0500

just thought I'll throw this one in.  I didn't write it but it's GOOD.

A Scooby-Doo Adventure.
	by Christine Morgan, 1995
	vecna@eskimo.com
	comments welcome

	The Mystery Machine stopped, rattled, backfired a puff of blue 
smoke, and stalled.
	The side door slid open and Velma climbed out. She squinted at the 
house, polished her glasses on the edge of her sweater, and took another 
look.
	"Zoinks," Shaggy said, poking his head out of the window. "Like, 
what a creepy pad."
	The house was large and rambling, perched broodingly on a hill. It 
was grey with black trim, surrounded by a rusty iron fence with
arrowhead 
points. The yard was waist-deep in weeds. In the evening light, shadows
gave 
the house a cadaverous appearance. The broken-out windows gaped like
empty 
eye sockets and mouths. Weather vanes and chimneys were starkly
silhouetted 
against an ominous sky.
	The front doors opened and Freddy and Daphne got out. The four of 
them stood in silence, studying the house. Inside the van, Scooby's
teeth 
chattered from his hiding place under a bunch of blankets.
	"Well," Velma finally said, "it looks haunted, all right."
	"I told you," Freddy said. "It is."
	"How did you hear about this place, Freddy?" Daphne wrapped her arms 
around herself and shivered prettily.
	"Hey, like, I thought we were going to Pirate Days," Shaggy 
protested. "Nobody said anything about haunted houses."
	"The Pirate Days Festival doesn't start until tomorrow," Freddy 
said. "We can explore the house, look for clues, and still make it in
time."
	"But I don't want to miss the pie-eating contest!" Shaggy rubbed his 
skinny gut. "Like, all the pies you can eat, and if you eat the most,
you 
win a prize!"
	"There will be plenty of time for that, Shaggy." Velma took a few 
steps closer to the house, her round face alight with excitement. "This
one 
could really be the one!"
	"According to the legend, it was built in the 1800s by a river 
pirate. You can just see the river over there." Freddy pointed. "The
man, 
Captain Boothe, made a fortune plundering ships carrying timber, furs,
and liquor to and from the harbor. He lived here, with his wife, until
he 
was murdered by his crew in a fight over shares of the booty. His wife 
waited and waited for him to come home, watching from that topmost
cupola 
for the signal lanterns on his ship. They say she died there, and her
ghost 
is still waiting for him to come home. Sometimes, you can hear her
weeping 
or calling for him."
	"So that's why the college team is called the Pirates, and why they 
have Pirate Days," Velma said happily. "It all makes sense. But how do
you 
know about this?"
	"My cousin belongs to a fraternity at the college. To join, he had 
to spend the night in the house as part of his initiation. When I told
him 
how we've been going around looking for ghosts, he told me the story."
	"Did ... did he see a ghost?" Shaggy was pale. In the van, Scooby's 
teeth chattered even louder.
	"He saw something," Freddy said solemnly. "He wasn't sure if it was 
a ghost, but it looked like a woman in a long nightgown and kerchief, 
carrying a candle. He said he could see right through her."
	"That sounds like a real ghost to me!" Velma said. "At last! All 
these times, finding nothing but conspiracies and slide-projectors and 
glow-in-the-dark paint, at last we've found a real ghost! I'll be able
to
get some real research material for my thesis!"
	"Oh, Velma, that'll be great!" Daphne enthused. "You've spent so 
much money on this, practically your whole inheritance. I'm so glad we
might 
finally find something real!"
	"Well, what are we waiting for?" Freddy said. "Come on, Scoob. It'll 
be dark soon."
	"Rye row," Scooby said. "Ry'll rstay right rhere."
	"How about for a scooby snack?" Freddy wheedled, shaking the box.
	"Ruh-uh. Ruh-uh."
	"Two scooby snacks?"
	Pause. "Rno."
	Daphne took a snack from the box and tossed it into the van. The 
lump of blankets shifted, and Scooby's big pink tongue slithered out to 
scoop up the treat. His wagging tail thumped against the floor.
	"Come on, Scooby Doo, where are you?" Daphne crooned, waving another 
snack in the air.
	Shaggy was watching with undisguised lust. Finally, it became too 
much for him and he snapped the snack from Daphne's fingers just as
Scooby 
emerged from the van.
	"Rhey!" the dog complained.
	"Oh, here's one for you," Daphne said, tossing one.
	Scooby jumped for it. Shaggy jumped also. The two of them collided 
mid-air and collapsed in a big ungainly heap.
	"Will you two quit messing around?" Velma scolded. "We've got a 
ghost to catch!"
	With Freddy in the lead, Velma close behind him, Daphne in the 
middle, and Shag and Scoob bringing up the rear, they went through the
rusty 
squeaky gate and up the overgrown path to the porch.
	A swift flicker of light in an upstairs window.
	"Did you see that?" Velma gasped, clutching Freddy's arm painfully 
tight and pointing up.
	It was gone, if there had been anything there. "Probably just the 
reflections of a car's headlights in the window," Freddy said.

	"No, it couldn't be," Daphne argued. "The windows don't have glass. 
And there's nothing out there but the river."
	"Maybe it was the ghost!" Shaggy gasped.
	Scooby whimpered and plunged his head to the ground as if he thought 
he was an ostrich.
	"Hurry!" Velma trotted up the steps. Her skirt flapped, giving 
Freddy a flash of sensible white cotton panties and strong pudgy thighs.
	Daphne saw it too and gave him a sly sideways smile. Shag and Scoob 
were staring up at the house with resigned dread, not looking at her, so
she 
raised the skirt of her blue dress enough to show him that her purple 
stockings ended mid-thigh and were supported by lacy garters. Freddy's
eyes 
widened and he grinned.
	As Velma crossed the porch, the door swung slowly open. Creeeeeaaak.
	Scooby and Shaggy clung to each other like a couple of pre-teen 
girls in a thunderstorm. Velma paused. "Hello? Is anybody there?"
	No answer. She looked back at the others. Daphne nodded 
encouragingly.
	"Hello?" Velma tried again, pushing the door the rest of the way 
open.
	Darkness. Silence. Then a faint, faraway wail like that of a 
griefstricken woman.
	"It's her," Freddy whispered. "Captain Boothe's wife!"
	"Um, why don't Scoob and me wait out here?" Shaggy suggested. "You 
know, like, to stand guard."
	"Sure," Daphne said. "It won't be too dark and scary standing out 
here all alone, next to a haunted house."
	Shaggy uttered a high shaky laugh. "Well, if you put it like that 
..."
	"Come on," Velma urged.
	They entered the house, moving with the stealth born of months of 
creeping around supposedly ghost-infested houses, amusement parks,
recording 
studios, and hotels. Freddy switched on one of their two flashlights, 
cupping his hand over the end to shield the glow. It turned his fingers 
momentarily blood-red.
	The front room of the house was spacious, filled with sheet-draped 
furniture. Old paintings of spooky-eyed people in antique fashions
watched 
them warily from the walls. Cobwebs thickly festooned the upper corners. 
Dust puffed up from the rug. Everywhere was the smell of age, mustiness, 
decay.
	"Your cousin spent the night here?" Shaggy said. "Like, he must have 
been one brave cat, or one crazy cat."
	"Shh!" Velma hissed. "Listen!"
	The wail, rising and falling, sobbing. And a new sound, a low and 
somehow sneaky shifting from an open doorway leading to the cellar
stairs.
	"Let's split up," Freddy suggested. "You three go upstairs, Daphne 
and I will look around in the basement."
	"Split up?" Shaggy asked, looking like he was about to wet himself 
at the very idea.
	"We can find more clues faster that way," Freddy said.
	"You'll be fine," Velma said. "Just stay close." She took the other 
flashlight and headed for the staircase. Shag and Scoob followed with
all 
the enthusiasm of criminals on the way to the gallows.
	"I'll go first," Freddy said to Daphne as the others climbed to the 
second floor. He aimed the light down the cellar stairs, then cautiously 
proceeded down. Daphne followed, her breath quick and warm on the back
of 
his neck.
	At the bottom of the stairs was a short hallway. An archway on the 
left led to a dusty old wine cellar. There was a door on the left,
firmly 
closed. Daphne tried it. "Locked," she whispered.
	"Try this," he replied, pressing a key into her hand.
	"Where did you get this?"
	"My cousin gave it to me."
	She gave him a puzzled look and tried the key. The lock clicked and 
the door swung open on oiled hinges.
	Freddy reached past her and flipped a switch. A gooseneck desk lamp 
came on, casting a harsh circle of light on the floor. Unlike the rest
of 
the house, the room was clean. The floor was covered with a nubby rug, a 
trendy burnt-orange couch was along one wall, a battered coffee table
held a 
television with foil-wrapped rabbit ears, and the walls were covered
with 
psychidelic concert posters and anti-war propeganda. There was a fridge 
humming quietly in a corner next to a two-burner stove and shelf of
mismatched dishes. On the other side of the room was a doorway curtained 
with strings of beads that swayed and clicked. Beyond the beads was a
small 
bathroom.
	Daphne turned to Freddy, her expression questioning. He was grinning 
broadly.
	"My cousin's frat brothers set it up," he explained. They've got the 
whole house rigged, with tape players, projectors, sound effects, 
everything. They use it to scare pledges on their initiation. There's
enough
fake ghost stuff here to keep Velma and the others busy for a while."
	"You mean, there's no real ghost?"
	"No real ghost."
	"You mean, we're finally alone?"
	"Yeah."
	"Oh, Freddy!" She ripped her headband off, letting her red hair 
spill gorgeously over her shoulders. He grabbed her and planted a kiss
on 
her, giving her the tongue, kicking the door most of the way shut.
	She was all over him, squeezing his ass, tugging at his belt, 
running her fingers through his blond hair, hands everywhere, like she
was 
one of those six-armed snake goddesses. He popped two of the buttons
off her dress and she somehow wiggled out of it without letting loose of 
their lip-lock. Underneath, she had her stockings, garters, silky
panties, 
and a lacy push-up bra.
	Her tits drove him wild. Before, he'd never managed more than a few 
quick feels, in their frustrating grope sessions in the back of the
Mystery 
Machine while Shaggy was off at a fast-food stand and Velma was asking 
around about whatever local ghost story they were tracking. He'd gotten
his 
hand on her pussy once, hot and wet, but still hadn't seen if she was a 
natural redhead.
	Now, though, he was feeling flesh and hard pointy little nipples, 
and she was rubbing his prick through his jeans. The one time he'd
persuaded 
her to give him a hand job, he'd spurted cum all over half a sandwich
that 
Shaggy had left lying in the van, and they'd almost been caught. There
had 
been no time to get rid of the damn sandwich, and they had spent a bad
day 
in fearful expectation. But aside from some comment from Shaggy about
bad 
mayonnaise, the incident had never been discovered.
	"I can't believe we've waited this long!" she panted, yanking on his 
scarf.
	"There's never been a good time." He undid the knot before she 
strangled him.
	"Why can't we just tell the others?"
	"Are you kidding?" He got rid of his sweater. "You know what a prude 
Velma is! She'd kick us off the team, and she's the one with all the
money. 
You think I want to get a real job?"
	"She'd be jealous anyway. She's got a crush on you."
	He unbuttoned his pants. "Why the hell are we talking about Velma? 
Let's quit wasting time and fuck!"
			*		*		*
	"Rwot's rin rhere?" Scooby asked.
	"Looks like the kitchen," Velma said, shining the light around.
	"Kitchen?" Shaggy perked up. "Like, let's look in here for clues!"
	"There's not going to be anything to eat," she said.
	He shrugged. "We might as well look."
	"I wonder if Freddy and Daphne are getting anywhere," Velma said. 
She wandered over to investigate a large china cabinet while Shaggy
started 
poking through cupboards. Scooby stuck his nose in an open drawer, then 
yelped in surprise as a large spider scuttled out.
	"What's the matter, Scoob?" Shaggy found the dog shivering under the 
sink. He bent down to try and haul him out.
	Thump! Rattle! "EEEEeeeee ..."
	Shaggy turned. "What was that?"
	Scooby sniffed the air. "Rwhere's Rwelma?"
	"Yeah, man, where is Velma? I hope she didn't fall down another 
trapdoor or something."
			*		*		*
	Daphne was noisy.
	He had her spread out on the couch, kneeling between her legs, 
busily licking her pussy (natural redhead, question answered, and
vaguely 
strawberry-flavored).
	Her heels drummed on his shoulders and back. She gasped, she moaned, 
she oohed and aahed.
	It was a great show, and he was glad he hadn't told her the rest  of 
what his cousin and the frat boys used this room for. He was glad she
didn't 
know about the camera over the fridge, which was recording everything.
	"Oh, Freddy! Oh, Freddy! You have to do it now! You have to fuck me! 
Oh, I'm going crazy! Give me that big prick!"
	He clambered onto the couch with her, sucking her perky tits. She 
reached under him and guided his prick to her cunt.
	"Now! Now!" she squealed, raising her legs.
	He rammed into her. She was slick and tight and her inner muscles 
clenched around him like an oiled fist. Her legs clamped his hips so
hard it 
almost hurt.
	"Oh, God! Oh, yes!" she gasped. "Ooh, do it faster!"
	"You like it, huh?" he grunted, pumping her so hard and fast that 
the whole couch shook. "You like to be fucked?"
	"Yes! Yes!"
			*		*		*
	Velma sneezed from the dust and brushed cobwebs out of her hair.
	She was sitting on a cold stone floor. Ranks of wine racks stood 
silent sentinel around her. Overhead, the trap door that had opened
beneath 
her feet was closing. She jumped up and tried to catch the edge, but
missed. 
There was no way to open it from below. She would have to find another
way 
out.
	She still had the flashlight, and made her way through the maze of 
wood. She began to hear strange noises, sounds like ... could it be? No, 
surely not ...
	A wide bar of light shone through a door that was standing ajar, and 
from behind the door the noises were louder. Voices, familiar voices --
	She threw the door open and gaped in horror.
	"Freddy! Daphne! Oh, my God!"
			*		*		*
	"Velma!" Freddy craned his neck and saw her standing in the doorway, 
staring at his naked ass.
	"Who cares?" Daphne writhed under him. "Don't stop, Freddy! I'm 
about to come!"
	He pounded at her frantically, riding into the home stretch. She 
clutched his hips and thrust her cunt up at him faster and faster. Her
nails 
jabbed into his back.
	"No!" Velma cried, and dashed into the room as if to prevent the 
inevitable. Her feet tangled in Freddy's discarded jeans and she crashed 
heavily into the rug.
	"Oh, oh, OOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Daphne shrieked.
She went into such a frenzy of bucking and thrashing that Freddy was
nearly 
thrown off of her. Then she collapsed in a dead faint.
			*		*		*
	"Did you hear that?" Shaggy gasped as the distant scream trailed 
away.
	"Ruh rghost!" Scooby's brown fur went dead white.
	"Like, let's get out of here!"
	Badittabadittabaditta -- Ziiiiip! as they ran in place for a 
terror-stricken moment before tearing toward the kitchen door. It was
too 
narrow to accomodate them both and they wedged like a cork in a bottle.
			*		*		*
	"Jesus," Freddy said, staring at Daphne. Her eyes were rolled back, 
her body was utterly limp.
	He withdrew his still-stiff prick, since going at her while she was 
out cold would be a tad too necrophiliac for his tastes. Behind him, he 
heard Velma groan as she pushed herself to hands and knees.
	"My glasses," she wailed. "I've lost my glasses!"
	He looked at her, at the pendulous swinging of her tits under her 
sweater, and then looked down at his rampaging prick. "You're going to
lose 
more than that," he muttered, and jumped on her.
	"Freddy? What are you -- oof!" as his weight drove her down onto the 
floor again. Her questing hand struck her glasses and sent them
skittering 
across the floor.
	He yanked her skirt up to her waist. "Something I should have done a 
long time ago!" He seized the waistband of her sensible good-girl
panties 
and pulled them down, revealing her smooth, white bottom.
	She scrambled to hands and knees again, trying to get away, but he 
hooked one arm around her ample waist and groped beneath her with the
other 
hand. Her pussy mound was plump and firm, covered with silky hair. His
prick 
gave a sudden eager lurch.
	Velma tried to scream, but only managed a thin squeak. He wormed a 
finger into her cunt.
	"Freddy, stop it!"
	His thumb found and rubbed the shy hidden knob of her clit while his 
fingers probed her snug hole. "You'll love it, Velma," he said. "More
fun 
than chasing ghosts!"
	"Stop!" she said, louder this time, but he felt warmth and dampness 
on his invading fingers.
	Taking away his hand, he grabbed her wide hips. "Ghosts and 
pirates," he scoffed. "I've got your pirate here! Prepare to be
boarded!" 
With that, he rammed his prick into her cunt to the hilt.
	Velma's violated scream echoed around the small room.
			*		*		*
	"Get out of the way, Scoob!" Shaggy said, struggling.
	The dog's eyes rolled, showing the whites. His fur had resumed 
normal color, but he was still in the grip of fear.
	Just then, something white floated across the hall in front of them. 
Pale, ghostly, a vague woman-shape, flickering across the walls.
	They reversed direction and popped out of the doorway like two 
watermelon seeds pinched between a finger and thumb. Scooby tried to go 
under the kitchen table, got stuck, and kept running, taking it with
him. He 
hit a swinging door and vanished into the pantry.
	Shaggy dove headfirst out the window and landed in a thick patch of 
weeds. He crawled away from the house as fast as he could, but was not
fast 
enough to avoid hearing another banshee shriek. He ran to the Mystery 
Machine, climbed in, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he curled up
in 
his seat, hugged his knobby knees to his skinny chest, and shuddered.
			*		*		*
	Freddy rocked back and forth, fucking Velma nice and slow. She had 
quit screaming and was now biting on her wrist, making muffled noises
that 
might have been sobs but sounded suspiciously like moans of pleasure.
	He let go of her hips to see if she'd try and get away again, but 
she stayed right where she was. He slid his hand back to her clit and
rubbed 
some more.
	"Like it, Velma?" he asked, thinking gleefully how this was going to 
look on film, how his cousin and his cousin's buddies were just going to 
freak out. "Going to come, Velma?"
	She shook her head, but her cunt was clenching, and she was moving 
her ass ever so slightly to meet his thrusts.
	"Mmm, ooh," Daphne said, raising her head. When she saw what was 
happnening on the floor, shock slapped the grogginess from her face. Her 
mouth and eyes made three perfect O's.
			*		*		*
	Scooby huddled in the pantry, waiting for something to happen. When 
nothing did, he cautiously poked his nose out. "Rhaggy? Rhaggy?"
	No answer. No sign of the ghost, or of Shaggy.
	His teeth clattered so loud that they drowned out the thunder of his 
heartbeat. When the spider dashed between his paws, he let our a yelp
that 
was nearly ultrasonic and raced for the door.
			*		*		*
	Shaggy stopped shaking. He peered out the windows, but couldn't see 
any of the others.
	"Zoinks, I hope the ghost didn't get them," he said to himself. 
"Like, maybe I should go look."
	His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in half an 
hour. "Like, maybe in a few minutes," he decided.
	There was a small fridge in the rear of the van. Kicking clothes and 
luggage out of the way, he opened it up and surveyed the contents.
	In no time, he had built a large sloppy sandwich. Sinking his teeth 
in, he sighed in rapture. The joy of food was enough to give him a
boner. He 
pressed idly on his crotch with one hand while rooting through the
fridge 
for the last eclair in a pink bakery box.
	Still chawing down on the sandwich, he balanced the eclair on his 
knee and opened his fly, taking out a cock that was as long and skinny
as 
the rest of him.
	Between bites of bread, meat, mayo, pickles, cheese, and onion, he 
nibbled the top off the eclair and sucked out some of the cream filling.
It 
left a chocolate-covered pastry shell with a creamy furrow that nicely
fit 
his cock.
	Sandwich in one hand, he ate as he jerked himself off into the 
eclair.
			*		*		*
	"Oh, wow," Daphne said. "Oh, wow, Freddy, you're fucking her."
	Velma looked around at her with huge horrified eyes. "Help me, 
Daphne! Help -- ooh -- help me!"
	Daphne licked her pink lips. "Help you? Okay." She got down on the 
floor with them, still wearing nothing but stockings and garters. She
tugged 
Velma's sweater up to her armpits and unfastened her heavy-duty bra.
	Velma gasped and squirmed, but Daphne's small hands were all over 
her, cupping her tits, tugging gently at the large pebbly brown nipples.
	Freddy pumped harder. "Unh, I'm going to come soon," he said.
	"Hear that, Velma?" Daphne whispered in the other girl's ear. 
"Freddy's big prick is stuck right up you, and soon he's going to come,
he's 
fucking you, don't you want to come too? Doesn't it feel good, all that 
thick hot cock slamming in and out?"
	Velma moaned. She was quivering now, her pale skin flushed.
	As Daphne spoke, she continued fondling Velma's breasts with one 
hand and started caressing her own pussy with the other. "It's making me
hot 
all over again just watching you. You know what I wish? I wish you'd
lick my 
cunt while Freddy fucks you." She laid back on the rug, spreading her
pussy 
lips with her fingers. "Do it, Velma. Lick me."
	"Yeah!" Freddy said, biting his lip and trying to hold off. Geez, 
this was more than he'd ever imagined! He hoped the camera was picking
it 
all up! "Do it!" He shoved Velma's head toward Daphne's waiting cunt.
	With a strangled cry of abandon, Velma buried her face between 
Daphne's thighs.
			*		*		*
	His mouth was crammed with sandwich, his cock surrounded by a sticky 
cunt of pastry and chocolate. Shaggy had never been with a chick, never 
cared to. All the satisfaction he needed, he got from food.
	When he came, he gasped a whole olive down his throat and nearly 
strangled, but didn't stop sliding his pastry-filled fist up and down.
Jets 
of cum pumped out, turning the eclair into a soggy crumbling mess.
			*		*		*
	Scooby folded his ears over his eyes. He had adopted a new strategy. 
If he didn't look, he couldn't possibly see anything to scare him.
	So, blind, he took a wrong turn and fell down the cellar stairs. At 
the bottom, he righted himself, shook his head, and froze at the strange 
sounds.
	He sniffed the air. "Rwelma? Rheddy? Raphne?"
			*		*		*
	Velma flung her head back. "Freddy! Yes! I'm coming!"
	"So am I!" He fucked her faster, his thighs slapping her ass.
	"I'm not!" Daphne cried petulently. She seized Velma by the ears and 
tried to force her back to licking, but Velma was caught up in the
throes of 
her orgasm.
	A startled woof caught Daphne's attention, and she turned her eyes 
to the door. Scooby Doo was standing there, a comical expression of
surprise 
on his doggy face, his tongue lolling out.
	A thoroughly wicked idea struck her and she acted on it at once. 
Freddy always kept a couple of scooby snacks in his pocket for
emergencies. 
Her cunt, aching for attention, told her that this was emergency enough.
She 
fished the snacks out of his jeans as he and Velma collapsed into a
sweaty, 
heavy-breathing heap.
	"Scooooooby," she crooned, waving the snacks. "I've got something 
for you, Scooby."
	His ears perked up. She took one of the snacks and pushed it up into 
her pussy, then crumbled the other one over her clit.
	Scooby whined, tail wagging uncertainly, and took a few steps toward 
her. She tilted her cunt at him invitingly. "Come on, Scooby Doo. Nice 
scooby snacks, come and get them!"
	"Daphne?" Freddy was gaping at her. She ignored him and coaxed 
Scooby closer.
	The big dog sniffed her cunt, then huffed a warm breath over it and 
started licking and slurping. His tongue was large, pink, slightly
rough, 
and wet.
	He lapped up all the crumbs, bringing Daphne right to the edge, then 
thrust his tongue deep into her, fishing for the hidden snack. His cold
nose 
pressed against Daphne's clit. She wrapped her legs around his head and 
humped his muzzle until she came, shrieking like a fire siren.
	The sight of Daphne getting eaten out by Scooby made Freddy horny 
all over again, though he would have sworn he was worn out. He rolled
Velma 
over (reeling from her orgasm and still without her glasses, she didn't
know 
what was going on just a few feet away) and stuck his prick in her
mouth. 
She started sucking eagerly, all resistance gone.
			*		*		*
	Shaggy threw the ruined eclair into the weeds and washed his hands. 
He was full, content, and beginning to worry about Scoob and the others.
	He wandered around the outside of the house for a while, trying to 
work up the nerve to go in. Every time he was about to, he heard more 
ghostly screams and chickened out. In his wanderings, he encountered a
long 
chain of extension cords leading from the house, but it never occured to
him 
that this might be a clue.
	"Zoinks," he said to himself, coming around to the porch again. 
"Like, where are they?"
	He took a deep breath and prepared to go in, when they appeared. 
Scooby was first, licking his chops.
	"Like, where have you been?" Shaggy asked indignantly. "Did you find 
something to eat in there? Man, you better have saved me some!"
	Daphne and Freddy exchanged a glance, and Daphne laughed. Velma was 
bringing up the rear, her glasses clutched in one hand and a dazed smile
on 
her face.
	"So, like, did you find the ghost?" Shaggy asked.
	"There's no ghost," Freddy said. "It was all a hoax."
			*		*		*