"He taught her that courage wasn't the absence of fear-it was running anyway, especially if someone you loved was running beside you."
"They were an unlikely equation-the boy who ran from monsters and the girl who stood her ground. But in the space...
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*💚Third Person's POV💚*
The Faux Ghost was a cacophony of cheap synth music, raucous laughter, and the clink of glasses. It was less a bar and more a support group for failed villainy. The mood was shattered when the doors slammed open with a theatrical BANG!
A hush fell. All eyes turned to the entrance.
Standing there, framed in neon and smoke, was a figure in an emerald green suit so loud it had its own echo. A fake gold tooth glinted in his smile. Beside him, clinging to his arm with an expression of mixed mortification and fierce loyalty, was a woman with strawberry-blonde hair piled high under a sparkling headscarf. Behind them loomed a tall figure in an enormous afro and a garish patterned shirt.
"Everyone part like the Red Sea!" the man in green boomed, his voice a confident drawl. "It's me, Shizzy McCreepy, my brother S.D. McCrawly, and my beautiful wife, Jewels McCreepy. We are in the house and ready to party!"
A few grunts of acknowledgment, then the crowd went back to their drinks. Julia Willows, doing her best "Jewels McCreepy" impression, wanted to sink through the floor. She held tight to Shaggy's arm; her knuckles white.
Aggie Wilkins, the former Ozark Witch, sidled up to the towering "S.D. McCrawly." She ran a finger down his chest. "Hey, handsome."
Scooby, hidden under the afro and dark glasses, froze. Then, remembering his cover, he managed a deep, "Hello, baby."
A muffled giggle escaped Julia, which she quickly buried by turning her face into Shaggy's shoulder.
Shaggy, his heart hammering against his ribs, guided their little group further inside, trying to look nonchalant. They passed a "Whack-a-Mole" arcade game. Instead of moles, the holes contained popping caricatures of Fred, Daphne, Velma, Julia, Shaggy, and Scooby. On the other side of the room, patrons were cheerfully throwing darts at large photographs of the gang.
Shaggy hurried them along, only to stumble into an argument between two men.
"A Ghost Clown is a heck of a lot scarier than a Cotton Candy Glob!"
"Oh yeah? Well, my Glob had existential dread!"
The debate turned physical. Shaggy ducked a swinging arm and was shoved sideways, bumping hard into an old man hunched over the bar.
"Watch out, idiot," the man snarled without looking up.
"Old Man Wickles," Julia breathed, recognizing the grizzled face from their files.
"Leave me alone," Wickles grumbled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
Shaggy, thinking fast, slid onto the stool next to him, pulling Julia down beside him. "I just wanted to say thank you," Shaggy said, his "Shizzy" accent thickening. "Your portrayal of the Black Knight Ghost was inspirational to my brother and me." He tipped his hat. "Have you done anything cool and creepy lately?"
