At Denny's alone. I always seem to end up here. Same booth, same cheap food.
Last night's mystery was good. We unmasked some asshole and he kept giving us shit so I broke his nose. He could have sat there silently seething. He could have asked for a lawyer. He had plenty of chances to back off but he didn't so I dealt on him. We ARE blasted kids. We carpool to solve crimes, but we're still rotten. We don't make any money on this. We do this because it's all we know.
Chasing ghosts is my life.
I watch a lot of people go by. They walk through this world but experience nothing. There's so much to feel, so much to sniff. I don't want to drink from their bowl. I don't want to catch their worms. We're being buried alive. There's already a hole in the ground. I don't want to be in it. Just my bone.
We're heading out tomorrow in the van. I get my grub from a crummy diner, and I sleep in the backyard. But we save money for gas and that gets us moving. We need to keep moving, or we will die.
Monday, March 20, 2017
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
09.27.69
Daphne and so by default, Fred, decide we should all go out fishing for the day. Inclement weather and fog won't stop us. We live in a coastal town in California, so we're on the water a lot. I see crud on this boat and I remember exactly what bay we picked it up in, a month before.
Below deck Shaggy is eating sardines, marshmallows, fudge, and olives in a sandwich. Dude does not care. When you wear the same clothes every day and don't know if or when your next meal is coming, you'd chomp on it too.
The ocean lies. The waves lie. Everything lies. You can try to read it, but you're gonna get it wrong. Especially in the fog. The sunset is burning through the clouds and trying to melt our bodies. Rocks sink their teeth into the flesh of the hull, jarring us out of our haze. We wind up on Haunted Isle. Some pirates used to crash here, and they even had their own fortress called Vasquez Castle. But why call the piece of land the Haunted Isle? That's being either really insane, or just asking for trouble.
I know I'm part of this group. I know I'm man's best friend, or at least that is what they say. But I'm an alien dog. I don't understand anyone's anything. Nothing they say makes any sense to me. Their problems are not mine. They are talking, salvaging what they can on the boat, making their way to the castle. What I am doing? I'm smelling. That's what I do. Everyone else looks and talks. I smell, and listen. I smell water, dirt, paper, Shaggy and everyone else and everything they ate, fish, rocks, ink, trash, mud, shells...
I follow certain scents until i pick out what doesn't belong. My nose centimeters from the ground, not paying attention to anything else. I might as well be on another planet. I come across a paper and give the signal to the gang. Not only does the paper look like a treasure map, it looks like a warning message for people to stay away. That never works with us. The whole island, castle included, looks deserted so we decide to take a look around. One adventure leads into the next. Daphne's boating trip has been forgotten.
We walked into the deserted castle, filled with old junk, pirate portraits, and cobwebs. I whistled aloud to break up the spookiness, but my fucked up vocal chords made it sound strained and creepy. Not too long after, Daphne falls into a trap door. We hear a terrible cackling echoing around the castle walls. After a while you learn to get out fast.
After a scurry down the hall, Shaggy and I run into Daphne. Or rather, she bashed his head in with a vase. You come out here with a lot of anything - sandwiches, clues, emotional bullshit - whatever - you're only going to get it ripped off your body and you will feel the pain.
A ghost appears and it's laugh becomes more annoying than scary. Me and guys give chase, and to our credit, make some textbook tackling moves on him, but we all sail right through the phantom body.
Clues pile up and we end up in the catacombs. I don't want any part of this until the gang throws Scooby snacks in my face. At some point you say fuck everything. Search and destroy. I was ready for anything, but instead just find a bunch of magician's props. Then all hell breaks loose. Velma ends up running in and out magic boxes, Shaggy ends up getting sawed in half, and Fred, Daphne, and I end up on a magic carpet ride.
Fred's had enough, and comes up with yet another elaborate trap. But we can't set it off until I find the phantom. Of course it's down to me. Surrounded by people all the time, and yet all alone when it matters the most. I waltz around until I catch the attention of the phantom in some random hallway that looks like every other random hallway in this place. After a whirlwind of crazy (and painful) contraptions, I end up on top of the ghost.
Turns out all the weird shit that was happening was just magic tricks and the villain was a magician. I could have told everyone that from the get-go, and I scratch my balls with my tongue. This adventure sucked. But the outcome was that the bad guy got jail time, and we got off the island. We win.
Below deck Shaggy is eating sardines, marshmallows, fudge, and olives in a sandwich. Dude does not care. When you wear the same clothes every day and don't know if or when your next meal is coming, you'd chomp on it too.
The ocean lies. The waves lie. Everything lies. You can try to read it, but you're gonna get it wrong. Especially in the fog. The sunset is burning through the clouds and trying to melt our bodies. Rocks sink their teeth into the flesh of the hull, jarring us out of our haze. We wind up on Haunted Isle. Some pirates used to crash here, and they even had their own fortress called Vasquez Castle. But why call the piece of land the Haunted Isle? That's being either really insane, or just asking for trouble.
I know I'm part of this group. I know I'm man's best friend, or at least that is what they say. But I'm an alien dog. I don't understand anyone's anything. Nothing they say makes any sense to me. Their problems are not mine. They are talking, salvaging what they can on the boat, making their way to the castle. What I am doing? I'm smelling. That's what I do. Everyone else looks and talks. I smell, and listen. I smell water, dirt, paper, Shaggy and everyone else and everything they ate, fish, rocks, ink, trash, mud, shells...
I follow certain scents until i pick out what doesn't belong. My nose centimeters from the ground, not paying attention to anything else. I might as well be on another planet. I come across a paper and give the signal to the gang. Not only does the paper look like a treasure map, it looks like a warning message for people to stay away. That never works with us. The whole island, castle included, looks deserted so we decide to take a look around. One adventure leads into the next. Daphne's boating trip has been forgotten.
We walked into the deserted castle, filled with old junk, pirate portraits, and cobwebs. I whistled aloud to break up the spookiness, but my fucked up vocal chords made it sound strained and creepy. Not too long after, Daphne falls into a trap door. We hear a terrible cackling echoing around the castle walls. After a while you learn to get out fast.
After a scurry down the hall, Shaggy and I run into Daphne. Or rather, she bashed his head in with a vase. You come out here with a lot of anything - sandwiches, clues, emotional bullshit - whatever - you're only going to get it ripped off your body and you will feel the pain.
A ghost appears and it's laugh becomes more annoying than scary. Me and guys give chase, and to our credit, make some textbook tackling moves on him, but we all sail right through the phantom body.
Clues pile up and we end up in the catacombs. I don't want any part of this until the gang throws Scooby snacks in my face. At some point you say fuck everything. Search and destroy. I was ready for anything, but instead just find a bunch of magician's props. Then all hell breaks loose. Velma ends up running in and out magic boxes, Shaggy ends up getting sawed in half, and Fred, Daphne, and I end up on a magic carpet ride.
Fred's had enough, and comes up with yet another elaborate trap. But we can't set it off until I find the phantom. Of course it's down to me. Surrounded by people all the time, and yet all alone when it matters the most. I waltz around until I catch the attention of the phantom in some random hallway that looks like every other random hallway in this place. After a whirlwind of crazy (and painful) contraptions, I end up on top of the ghost.
Turns out all the weird shit that was happening was just magic tricks and the villain was a magician. I could have told everyone that from the get-go, and I scratch my balls with my tongue. This adventure sucked. But the outcome was that the bad guy got jail time, and we got off the island. We win.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
09.26.69
Spending time at home is so different than being on a case. I've always lived a solitary existence, trapped in my own mind, but when working on a mystery I'm too busy sniffing out clues and running from monsters to notice.
It's me against the world, with no one else on my wavelength, except for my few friends, and even then I feel cut off from them depending on the placement of trap doors and secret rooms. Isolation can be devastating. Once in a while I jump into Shaggy's arms just to convince myself I'm not alone in this world.
Being at home though, there's no interference. Alone with my thoughts. My hunger. I go from screaming and being screamed at for days on end, to complete silence. It's pretty jarring.
When I say home, I really mean Fred's parent's house. They are never home for some reason and the gang crashes there all the time. No where else to be. There isn't enough room inside the house for everyone, so I have a small place in the backyard. Only about twice the size of my body, but there's a roof over my head and a floor to sleep on. I like being out there, usually. With the rest of the backyard critters and a moon hanging out above. Sometimes I think about how that very same moon is also looming over some spooky castle somewhere, scaring the fuck out of someone.
This is a break from the chaos, and yet I get no respite since my brain is still on "search and destroy" mode. I quietly contemplate the adventures that haunt me to this day. And the ones I know I'll face in the future.
Daphne has a boating trip planned.
It's me against the world, with no one else on my wavelength, except for my few friends, and even then I feel cut off from them depending on the placement of trap doors and secret rooms. Isolation can be devastating. Once in a while I jump into Shaggy's arms just to convince myself I'm not alone in this world.
Being at home though, there's no interference. Alone with my thoughts. My hunger. I go from screaming and being screamed at for days on end, to complete silence. It's pretty jarring.
When I say home, I really mean Fred's parent's house. They are never home for some reason and the gang crashes there all the time. No where else to be. There isn't enough room inside the house for everyone, so I have a small place in the backyard. Only about twice the size of my body, but there's a roof over my head and a floor to sleep on. I like being out there, usually. With the rest of the backyard critters and a moon hanging out above. Sometimes I think about how that very same moon is also looming over some spooky castle somewhere, scaring the fuck out of someone.
This is a break from the chaos, and yet I get no respite since my brain is still on "search and destroy" mode. I quietly contemplate the adventures that haunt me to this day. And the ones I know I'll face in the future.
Daphne has a boating trip planned.
Friday, March 11, 2016
09.25.69
Shaggy and I are on fuck everybody mode. Every time we go downtown we get fucked with by assholes. Solve a few thefts and kidnappings and everyone wants to be your friend. As soon as you get your name in the paper, they start calling you out, trying take you down. These stupid papers that I used to throw at people's doors. They should all just get chewed.
At the club we convinced the DJ to play The Mamas & The Papas. Some people in the audience groaned and the DJ got on the mic to apologize. Figures the piece of shit has bad taste in music. But it saved us from having to listen to some weak punk bullshit.
So Shaggy and I are hanging out, waiting for Daphne and Velma to show up. No clue where Fred is. The brother of our former boss showed up, he's just as much a scumbag. Shaggy looks at him and asks me out loud if this is the guy I wanted to bite.
"RES."
Shaggy gets glassy-eyed and starts chanting "Bite him now. Bite him now." This dude starts quivering and blubbering about how he always liked us and that he tried to convince his brother not to fuck with Shaggy's bike. What an ass.
Everywhere I go I see worthless people. People who don't care, people who don't give you an inch unless they need something from you. People who go out of their way just to bum you out. They lie, they cheat, they steal. They're all fakes. I want to rip off their masks, and then rip off their heads. These people should just get hit by cars that I'm chasing.
At the club we convinced the DJ to play The Mamas & The Papas. Some people in the audience groaned and the DJ got on the mic to apologize. Figures the piece of shit has bad taste in music. But it saved us from having to listen to some weak punk bullshit.
So Shaggy and I are hanging out, waiting for Daphne and Velma to show up. No clue where Fred is. The brother of our former boss showed up, he's just as much a scumbag. Shaggy looks at him and asks me out loud if this is the guy I wanted to bite.
"RES."
Shaggy gets glassy-eyed and starts chanting "Bite him now. Bite him now." This dude starts quivering and blubbering about how he always liked us and that he tried to convince his brother not to fuck with Shaggy's bike. What an ass.
Everywhere I go I see worthless people. People who don't care, people who don't give you an inch unless they need something from you. People who go out of their way just to bum you out. They lie, they cheat, they steal. They're all fakes. I want to rip off their masks, and then rip off their heads. These people should just get hit by cars that I'm chasing.
Friday, February 19, 2016
09.24.69
We were pulling into town and we smelled smoke. Shaggy remarked that it wasn't the good kind. The bottom of the van was on fire. We all got out to a safe distance while we watched it burn. Fred got under the van with a towel to try to put the fire out. He yelled for help but I just stood there. Daphne ran across the street to a gas station to get a fire extinguisher. Fred's arms had burning oil on them. He could have been killed but he saved the Mystery Machine. I just stood there.
Fred is hardcore. It doesn't matter what gets in our way, or who puts us down, or tries to scare us, Fred will stand his ground. The more garbage that gets thrown his way the more unrelenting he is. His power comes from external forces.
I go into a dark place. I have to psyche myself up. The more people ask of me, the more I just want them to die off.
Fred is hardcore. It doesn't matter what gets in our way, or who puts us down, or tries to scare us, Fred will stand his ground. The more garbage that gets thrown his way the more unrelenting he is. His power comes from external forces.
I go into a dark place. I have to psyche myself up. The more people ask of me, the more I just want them to die off.
Friday, February 5, 2016
09.22.69
I met up with the gang in the morning. Velma had done the research on the glowing seaweed. Some phosphorescent underwater stuff that only grows in one part of the area - the "Graveyard of Ships" - same place where Cutler croaked. Do we head right there while our minds and bodies are rested with the warm sun on our backs? No. Our plan is to go at night.
A typical afternoon, boring and depressing, until it's time to act. We head into a scuba shop to prepare for tonight. The place wasn't ready for a group like us. A lot of establishments in this crummy coastal town don't know what they are getting themselves into. When I walked into the scuba shop some dude immediately threw me out. It took a few minutes to convince him I was part of Mystery Inc.
Five scuba suits and a motorboat later, we cruise into the Graveyard. We spot one of the yachts that had gone missing a few days before, only to have it disappear on us in the fog. With us on one side, and a bay of rocks on the other, the only way it could have gone is down.
We dive underwater and see how this place got it's namesake. Sunken ships everywhere. Shaggy and I split off so we can cover more ground. We spot the ghost diver. The hunters have now become the hunted. I swam into a wrecked ship, one filled with hundreds of scuba tanks. This means something. Another clue. Another moment when I thought about how stupid it was for us to split up. Now I had to find the gang, tell them what I saw, and do so without getting caught by some underwater ghoul. Hiding in plain sight didn't work. The ghost diver came up behind me and tried to grab me. I swam away just in time, so that the diver's arms hugged thin air... well, water in this case. I can't count how many times that move has worked for me. Not without a price paid by my body, though. I have a piece of cartilage floating around my knee that reminds me every day.
I reconnect with the gang, who apparently have done nothing this whole time. We come across some faded glowing footprints that lead to a wall of rock. I put my weight on a rock and a section of the rock wall shifts. Secret passage. I'm wondering if I could do this all on my own.
We end up in a giant underwater cavern, filled with yachts. Some are being repainted. All of them look like the missing ships the newspapers have been reporting. Fred decides to set up a trap for the ghost diver, complete with hose, soap, and a net, all of which happen to be handy. It sounds like a good idea, but I take a more direct approach because fuck this weak guy. He haunts this area like he's all heavy, but really it's just an act. I find myself in a boat, covered in water and soap, speeding toward the ghost diver when he makes his appearance on the nearby dock. My boat gets air-time as I hit the dock, landing right on the diver. I got blood all over me.
Some of the others are ready to pull off his helmet and see Ebeneezer Shark, but really it turns out to be Cutler, who faked his own death and started this yacht hijack scam. We solved the mystery and we got our names in the newspaper. I hate the press. It's such bullshit.
A typical afternoon, boring and depressing, until it's time to act. We head into a scuba shop to prepare for tonight. The place wasn't ready for a group like us. A lot of establishments in this crummy coastal town don't know what they are getting themselves into. When I walked into the scuba shop some dude immediately threw me out. It took a few minutes to convince him I was part of Mystery Inc.
Five scuba suits and a motorboat later, we cruise into the Graveyard. We spot one of the yachts that had gone missing a few days before, only to have it disappear on us in the fog. With us on one side, and a bay of rocks on the other, the only way it could have gone is down.
We dive underwater and see how this place got it's namesake. Sunken ships everywhere. Shaggy and I split off so we can cover more ground. We spot the ghost diver. The hunters have now become the hunted. I swam into a wrecked ship, one filled with hundreds of scuba tanks. This means something. Another clue. Another moment when I thought about how stupid it was for us to split up. Now I had to find the gang, tell them what I saw, and do so without getting caught by some underwater ghoul. Hiding in plain sight didn't work. The ghost diver came up behind me and tried to grab me. I swam away just in time, so that the diver's arms hugged thin air... well, water in this case. I can't count how many times that move has worked for me. Not without a price paid by my body, though. I have a piece of cartilage floating around my knee that reminds me every day.
I reconnect with the gang, who apparently have done nothing this whole time. We come across some faded glowing footprints that lead to a wall of rock. I put my weight on a rock and a section of the rock wall shifts. Secret passage. I'm wondering if I could do this all on my own.
We end up in a giant underwater cavern, filled with yachts. Some are being repainted. All of them look like the missing ships the newspapers have been reporting. Fred decides to set up a trap for the ghost diver, complete with hose, soap, and a net, all of which happen to be handy. It sounds like a good idea, but I take a more direct approach because fuck this weak guy. He haunts this area like he's all heavy, but really it's just an act. I find myself in a boat, covered in water and soap, speeding toward the ghost diver when he makes his appearance on the nearby dock. My boat gets air-time as I hit the dock, landing right on the diver. I got blood all over me.
Some of the others are ready to pull off his helmet and see Ebeneezer Shark, but really it turns out to be Cutler, who faked his own death and started this yacht hijack scam. We solved the mystery and we got our names in the newspaper. I hate the press. It's such bullshit.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
09.21.69
We met up at the malt shop the next day. Shaggy and I were stuffing our faces, while Fred reads the newspaper. Apparently boats have been disappearing near the area for a while now. This dude Ebeneezer Shark was quoted as saying the ghost of Captain Cutler is involved. Newspapers will print anything.
I was pretty miffed and I didn't even care anymore. The only people who showed up to the beach last night were us. The party was a bust. I know mysteries like this are our main gig, but I wasn't putting my all into this investigation. After lunch, Velma took me into the parking lot and straightened me out on a few things. She told me that even though the beach was nearly empty, some spooky shit still went down. That was good enough. She said that you never pull bullshit attitude and you always sleuth your ass off or you don't sleuth at all. She taught me a lot.
So we decide to pay this Shark guy a visit. Do we go out to the docks during the day, when everything looks normal and welcoming? No, of course not. We wait until night, when everything looks dark and eerie. We meet up with Shark, and he tells us how Captain Cutler's boat hit some fancy yacht, shipwrecking his boat and sending the Captain to a watery grave. The ghost of Cutler has been messing with the boats in the area ever since. I didn't want to sit around listening to his shit anymore, so I start sniffing around Shark's boat. Following my nose usually results in a clue or two, and I thrust myself into this investigation, with Velma's advice still stuck in my head. I end up falling below deck, landing near a storage closet that has a diving suit in it. The gang hears the commotion and looks down below at me. Shark explains that the diving suit is his. Uh huh.
After a quick huddle on the dock, Fred and Daphne decide to hang around and spy on Shark, while Velma, Shaggy, and I decide to visit Cutler's widow. Does she live in a regular house on some pleasant beach front property? No, of course not. She lives in a creepy old lighthouse, covered with shadow and fog. We head into Cutler's place, despite the fact that we came unannounced and were not invited. Shaggy thinks the place is decorated for Halloween, but Velma says it's real-deal witchcraft. All sorts of bottles, weird ingredients, and old books are laying about. Cutler's widow shows up out of nowhere. She was upstairs working the lighthouse light. The fact that she didn't care that we were trespassing was odd, but weirder still were here plain and matter-of-fact answers to Velma's questions.
"Yes, my husband is dead. Yes, I summoned his ghost through witchcraft. Yes, he is haunting everyone and I'm cool with it."
I stopped listening after a while, my attention turning to whatever was brewing in a cauldron on the fire. I took a taste and it was good. My life now is basically mysteries and food.
We ditched the witch and walked back along the shoreline. Just a ways away, we saw the ghost diver, walking into a drain pipe. I was the smallest, so of course they wanted me to follow. I don't do well with ghosts, darkness, or tight spaces, so this was a triple threat of danger. But then Velma pulled out the Scooby Snacks. Fuck. I gulped one down, ran into the pipe, and tugged at the first thing to hit my nose. It was a strand of glowing seaweed. Velma was impressed that I had found a clue, but all I wanted was another Snack. Those things are delicious. Gimme some more.
I was pretty miffed and I didn't even care anymore. The only people who showed up to the beach last night were us. The party was a bust. I know mysteries like this are our main gig, but I wasn't putting my all into this investigation. After lunch, Velma took me into the parking lot and straightened me out on a few things. She told me that even though the beach was nearly empty, some spooky shit still went down. That was good enough. She said that you never pull bullshit attitude and you always sleuth your ass off or you don't sleuth at all. She taught me a lot.
So we decide to pay this Shark guy a visit. Do we go out to the docks during the day, when everything looks normal and welcoming? No, of course not. We wait until night, when everything looks dark and eerie. We meet up with Shark, and he tells us how Captain Cutler's boat hit some fancy yacht, shipwrecking his boat and sending the Captain to a watery grave. The ghost of Cutler has been messing with the boats in the area ever since. I didn't want to sit around listening to his shit anymore, so I start sniffing around Shark's boat. Following my nose usually results in a clue or two, and I thrust myself into this investigation, with Velma's advice still stuck in my head. I end up falling below deck, landing near a storage closet that has a diving suit in it. The gang hears the commotion and looks down below at me. Shark explains that the diving suit is his. Uh huh.
After a quick huddle on the dock, Fred and Daphne decide to hang around and spy on Shark, while Velma, Shaggy, and I decide to visit Cutler's widow. Does she live in a regular house on some pleasant beach front property? No, of course not. She lives in a creepy old lighthouse, covered with shadow and fog. We head into Cutler's place, despite the fact that we came unannounced and were not invited. Shaggy thinks the place is decorated for Halloween, but Velma says it's real-deal witchcraft. All sorts of bottles, weird ingredients, and old books are laying about. Cutler's widow shows up out of nowhere. She was upstairs working the lighthouse light. The fact that she didn't care that we were trespassing was odd, but weirder still were here plain and matter-of-fact answers to Velma's questions.
"Yes, my husband is dead. Yes, I summoned his ghost through witchcraft. Yes, he is haunting everyone and I'm cool with it."
I stopped listening after a while, my attention turning to whatever was brewing in a cauldron on the fire. I took a taste and it was good. My life now is basically mysteries and food.
We ditched the witch and walked back along the shoreline. Just a ways away, we saw the ghost diver, walking into a drain pipe. I was the smallest, so of course they wanted me to follow. I don't do well with ghosts, darkness, or tight spaces, so this was a triple threat of danger. But then Velma pulled out the Scooby Snacks. Fuck. I gulped one down, ran into the pipe, and tugged at the first thing to hit my nose. It was a strand of glowing seaweed. Velma was impressed that I had found a clue, but all I wanted was another Snack. Those things are delicious. Gimme some more.
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