The rain that pattered against the flat windshield of the colorful van was tepid and limp. A listless, lifeless little shower that served only to make the aged road beneath the tires shimmer slightly in the purple light of evening. The van, a colorful, boxy thing with the words "The Mystery Machine" lovingly painted on the sides, rolled smoothly over the ill-kept back road. It sailed smoothly along the road, hemmed in on either side by rows and rows of tangled trees that seemed to menace over the path. However, for as dreary as the weather and the rundown forest scenery were outside the van, the scene within was quite warm. Four teens and their friendly dog had piled into the groovy ride to see what adventures they might get into this evening.
Shaggy, the tallest of the group by far, was about as skinny as he was cowardly. The gangly, long-limbed teen had a head of scruffy brown hair that matched the patch of scruffy hair on his chin. He sat in the flat, spacious back of the van next to his best friend Scooby. The back was the preferred spot for the two, partly due to the fact that their long legs tended to be a bit cramped in the front, and partly due to the fact that the back of the van was where the snacks were always stored. The unkempt hippie was busy stacking up an absolutely perfect, twenty three decker pickle and bologna sandwich. He laid down layer after layer of meats and toppings as the van bumped along the old road. He worked in tandem with Scooby, each eager to see this meal reach its absolute peak of deliciousness.
Scooby, the only inhuman member of the gang, laughed excitedly as he helped Shagyy build up the inconveniently tall sandwich. He, like his best bud Shaggy, had a love for food of all kinds that went beyond simple hunger. Eating for he and Shaggy was not simply something that they had to do, but was rather one of the core pursuits of life itself. "Shaggy, more mustard!" Scooby Doo said, the words coming somewhat clumsily from his canine mouth. Scooby was a Great Dane, and about as ravenous as he was massive. He used his great brown paws to stabilize the towering sandwich as Shaggy built it layer upon layer.
"More mustard coming up! Old buddy old pal!" Shaggy said with a nod of eager agreement as he squeezed a bottle of yellow mustard out onto several layers of the sandwich. Shaggy's hands were on the treat before him, but his mind was on whatever worrying destination the gang was headed towards today. "So, like, tell me, what kind of terrifying place are we going to visit today?" Shaggy asked the three in the front seat as Scooby stuck a toothpick with an olive in it on top of the sandwich to finish it off. The gang was always seemingly finding themselves involved in some sort of spooky business one way or another. Werewolves, draculas, space kooks, and all sorts of evils cretins seemed to threaten them weekly. Most of the time the villains turned out to be nothing more than con-men in rubber masks, but that didn't lessen the terror that Shaggy and Scooby felt when running from them.
"Uh, I don't think we've decided yet actually," Fred answered from the driver's seat. Fred, the tall, wide-shouldered blonde was about as all-American as it came. He was athletically built, with a straight spine and a square chin. Steadfast, trustworthy, he was the leader of the group, though if asked he would likely deny it. An honest sort, he had an open and friendly way about him that was hard to dislike. He was a skilled mechanic, and often used said mechanical skills when constructing the traps the gang would often use to trap villains. Fred was the man with the plan, even if said plans didn't always pan out quite right. "Velma, you had a few ideas, right? Where are we headed today?" Fred asked the mousy girl in the far front passenger seat.
Velma, the very smallest and youngest of the group, was a petite, bookish, and exceedingly mousy girl. She sat in the side seat with her glasses-clad eyes buried into a map of the area. "Well, we actually have a few options to choose from. This old logging road leads to a fork and we can choose from there," Velma said astutely as she laid the map down in her lap and adjusted the orange turtleneck sweater she always wore. "We could visit the old abandoned pier at the beach, check out the old abandoned Wheeler plantation, go a little off-road and see the old abandoned silver mine, or even just visit the malt shop. I think that they're all equally interesting, so I leave the decision up to you all," the nerdy girl said as she adjusted the thick glasses that always rested on her nose.
"Oh, I want to visit the beach! We can have a bonfire!" Daphne said as she lifted her pointed, highborn nose from an aggressively chic fashion magazine. The radiantly pretty, if somewhat airheaded redhead perked up excitedly at the mention of the beach. She was fine going along solving mysteries with the rest of the gang, but much preferred any opportunity that brought on some casual fun instead. "I mean, haven't we solved enough mysteries for one month? Let's go have a cookout on the beach," she said with a casual flip of her meticulously coiffed hair. She looked about at the rest of the gang, trying to sway them to her chosen option with a hopeful smile carried on delicately pouty lips. She was an electrically charismatic girl, and seemed to draw attention wherever she went, though that attention often saw her captured or otherwise kidnapped by the various monsters and criminals they faced. Daphne, ever the alluring damsel in distress.
"Yeah, like, I'm all about the cookout idea. I vote for whatever option is the least spooky and has the most food," Shaggy answered as he and Scooby split their twenty-three decker sandwich exactly in half.
"I'm with Shaggy!" Scooby added. The goofy looking dog opened his mouth cartoonishly wide and stuffed the entirety of his half of the towering sandwich into his mouth in a single bite.
"Well, if we're doing this democratically, then I cast my vote for the Plantation. That location carries the most academic value, and I'd like to see such a piece of local history for myself," Velma said astutely. The girl, ever the academic, was always eager to steep herself in anything of scholastic value. "Though, it has been a while since I had a strawberry egg cream, so the malt shop might be good too," she added with a bit of a sheepish grin.
The engine of the well-loved van purred and the brakes squeaked ever so slightly as the Mystery Machine came to a stop at a rather ominous looking fork in the road. The four teenaged friends and their dog looked out of the front windshield at a series of wooden, hand-painted signs that pointed to the various locations that Velma had noted earlier. Though instead of the four options that she had laid out, there were five signs that pointed in five different directions.
"Well, looks like this is the fork Velma mentioned. Decision time, gang!" Fred said with a confident grin as he looked over the decrepit road signs before them. "Looks like we have five options. The pier, the malt shop, the plantation, the old mine, and a road with an unknown end. That's the one I choose, the unknown road! I want to follow the road less traveled, especially if it leads us into adventure!" Fred said with a grin as he waited to see what the rest of the gang would decide. Whatever they chose would be eventful, of that much he was certain. The group always seemed to be getting themselves into some sort of trouble, and this night would likely be no exception.