Improbability
It had been just another typical Friday, and the kids of Mystery Inc. had gathered for pizza and dessert in the dining room of the Eerie Point Country Club.
Shaggy had been vigorously chewing a mouthful of cheesecake when the server turned into a demon.
After he'd spent weeks chasing things that look like demons - but are actually people in rubber masks - Shaggy thought he knew how to react to such situations. But the other monsters hadn't drooled pure white bile onto his loafers or looked quite so incredibly evil. He tried to scream and tip off Fred, but could only point and shake while he continued telling his story to the rest of the gang. He extended a shaking index finger at the moldering, smirking demon.
It was Scooby's growling bark that alerted Fred. "Shag, what are you pointing at?" He finally turned around to see the smiling demon which backhanded him across the table and seized Shaggy by the collar.
"I'll swallow your soul!" it howled malevolently in his ear.
"L-like, could you say it, not spray it?"
The beast shrieked, drowning Shaggy in the noxious scent of its breath. He screamed in the face of the demon until he was abruptly released. Hitting the floor, Shaggy peered up at the scene before him. Velma and Daphne had begun whapping the thing over the head with their chairs, but between the fleeing swarms of patrons and the creature's super strength they weren't able to hit him hard enough, and what impact they did make only seemed to encourage its fury. The thing grabbed Scooby by the collar and threw Scooby into Velma's arms, knocking her down. Shaggy struggled under the creature's foot as it lurched toward Daphne. With the creature's foot on his knee, he couldn't possibly get up!
Just then, he heard the sound of someone loading a shotgun, and a high-pitched whistle. Shaggy turned his head, but could only make out the vaguest outline of a man in the distance. "Let's go," a voice growled from over his shoulder. The demon snarled, and Shaggy felt its weight lift from his shoulder.
He winced at the sound of a shotgun firing. Once, twice, three times! He let out another shriek as the demon fell to the ground a few inches from him, its dead eyes staring blankly through him.
The girls ran to help Shaggy up, then they started shouting for Fred. "I've got him," the mysterious shape declared, moving into the room, taking on the appearance of a human. He was carrying Fred under his arm as he spun his shotgun, tucking it into a holster on his thigh. "You kids all right?"
Shaggy ignored the appearance of the new figure, and his somewhat familiar-sounding voice. "Zoinks, are you okay, Velma?"
She nodded. "What was that monster?"
"It ain't no monster, kid," the man declared. "It's a Deadite. And if you don't help me stop 'em, every person in the world is gonna look exactly like this in a month."
Shaggy squinted up at the person bending over to help him. "Mr. Williams?" he asked.
**
The Creepy Caves of Carlsbad were even creepier when you were accompanied by a man with one hand and a chainsaw. Mr. Williams had, however, seemingly been through this many times before - his saw made a low revving noise as he began powering it down.
"I left the book in there," he said. "It's too narrow for me to get to, thanks to this cave-in. Who's brave enough to go on down there and get it?"
"Like, not me!" Shaggy squeaked. "I'm allergic to danger!"
"Reah," Scooby said, resting his head.
"Freddy boy?"
Fred glanced at Shaggy. "He's your neighbor!"
"Gentlemen," Velma said, "if none of you are brave enough to get that book, I would be glad to volunteer my services." She pushed back her glasses and squared her shoulders.
"And I'll help!" Daphne said. Without further discussion, Velma squeezed herself into the gap of the rock wall and pulled out a book. An ugly flesh-covered thing with a human face on it.
Daphne shrieked when she saw it, but Velma stayed cool and handed the book to Mr. Williams, and Shaggy's admiration for her increased.
***
Napping in the middle of a zombie invasion is usually a bad idea, but teenagers need sleep. So do middle-aged zombie killers, apparently. Bedding down in the Terrible Tabernacle was a dangerous thing to do, but Mr. Williams evoked confidence in them. Comfort, too. For Shaggy, that wasn't a new thing.
He woke late the morning, and wasn't the only one. Shaggy found Mr. Williams sitting behind the wheel of the Mystery Machine and flipping through the book, patting a sleeping Scooby's head with his metal hand. There were a lot of freaky-deaky pictures in the thing; it gave Shaggy the willies, but he'd known Mr. Williams since he was a little boy and trusted that he would know what to do with the thing.
He slapped the book closed when he saw Shaggy. "Don't look too closely at it, kid. You don't wanna mess with this stuff," he declared.
"Like, what's so scary about a bunch of zombies? You used to tell us all about how you used to tie up demons." Shaggy grinned at this bit of nostalgia. "It's why I wanted to help people when I grew up!"
Ash shook his head. "Kid, 'tie up' was a code word for 'I cut its head off'," he rolled his eyes. "Try putting that on your Peace Corps resume."
Shaggy gulped. "We're doomed."
"Nobody's 'doomed'. I have to get you back home safe; if I get you killed your old man'll do more to me than 'accidentally' ding my fender again."
Shaggy couldn't let Mr. Williams distract him from his worries. "What are these things?"
"Demons who wanna make Scoobie Snacks out of some teenage souls," he shrugged; Scooby's ear perked but he didn't awaken. "Their favorite kind. Younger bodies have longer shelf lives." He looked haunted for a moment, and then shook his head. "It's our job to make sure they go back to hell."
Shaggy's eyes had widened; his knees were knocking; he knew he could run away, but he couldn't leave with Velma in danger.
Mr. Williams read his mind. "So, that's the Velma chick you're crazy about?" It wasn't a shock that he knew about her - Shaggy tended to talk nonstop about that girl at neighborhood block parties.
Shaggy, in response, found himself spilling his guts about Velma. "...And then, like, the demon totally took Vel over!" he declared, gesturing with his long fingers. "We thought she was a creepy frog thing!"
His neighbor raised a brow. "Damn. Helluva story, Norville." The older man leaned against the seat, his lazy, casual air hinting at his natural drollery. "So how're you and Velma doing now?"
Shaggy frowned. "Well, we, like, decided to be friends," he explained. "Me and Vel didn't have any sparks or anything."
Mr. Williams raised a brow. "'Sparks'. Didn't you say something about her foot coming up off the ground?"
Shaggy nodded. "But she said no sparks."
"If her foot's up off the ground, there're sparks. And if you want to keep her," Ash continued, "you go after her. Women like her can disappear in the blink of an eye." He snapped his fingers. A silence passed between them, after which Mr. Williams continued, "let's talk strategy."
****
Shaggy learned three quick lessons during the ensuing day:
The Mystery Machine could go eighty miles an hour if you pushed it hard enough.
Real demon zombies were way, way uglier than frog demons. So were angry skeletons.
Real friends helped each other out of tough jams. They also cut the heads off of zombie cult minions who want to make burgers out of your souls.
***
"This is never coming out of my hair!" Daphne wailed as she and Velma toweled off in the back of the Mystery Machine. Mr. Williams sat with them, reloading his gun, and he laughed at her disgust.
"Y'did good, karate Barbie," Mr. Williams declared, slapping her on the back with a bloody hand. Daph let out a wail of discontent.
"Thanks for saving our bacon, Mister Williams," said Fred, as he turned off the road. "Are you sure you won't come back to Coolsville with us?"
"Sorry kids," Mr. Williams said, "I've been hiding from this Promised One thing for too long." Mr. Williams rose a brow. "I've gotta go where the demons take me."
Velma made a face. "I wish there were some logical way out of this for you, Mr. Williams..." She caught Shaggy looking at her and met his gaze before turning away, "but some things just aren't solvable in logistical terms."
"Like, Vel's right," he said. "I'll keep your place warm for you, man."
"Yeah," he snorted. "Feed the demon squirrels for me."
Fred pulled over to let Mr. Williams out, and as he walked up the highway embankment to his next destination. His neighbor's words of advice echoed in Shaggy's mind as Scooby, Daphne and Fred saw him off.
"Vel," he said, "d'you think I could buy you a soda when we get home?"
"Sure, Shaggy," she smiled. "I owe you a favor for saving me from that winged bat creature."
"Like, you totally saved me from that zombie thing!" He smiled. "We're even-steven."
She shifted against the floor of the van. "Let's go to the drive-in after. There's a double-feature I've wanted to see for a while."
"The Bride of the Gruesome Goblin?" Velma nodded her head. Shaggy grinned. "Me too." A silence passed. "So, like, is this a date, Vel?"
Velma considered that. "Statistically, most relationships end in a break up. Probability would give us a thousand to one odds."
Shaggy grinned. "But what about you?"
Velma smiled. "I think it's a date."