Scooby-doo Cartoon Van Novels & Stories

“Thanks, it’s kinda funny meeting on these terms, but maybe in the future we can meet and drink. I know Teddy would enjoy that.” Fritz piped up, having heard a lot about the wild party rogue from the gang. “For sure! But first things first, here’s yer wheels; custom paint job and everything.” Giovani led us down the street to a parked cargo van. It was a very decent size and once opened Fritz and I began to drool. Brand new tools were loaded up and ready to go, a couple of boxes in a decent size as well. “Teddy figured you could hide her in a new cupboard if ya’ll got time and say that it’s the wrong size or color or some shit and bring it back to the van with her in it.” Giovani pointed out

he deadpans and then shoots our guide a face with eyebrows much too furrowed to be friendly. I squeeze his arm tighter to gain his attention again. "I am surprised. This is going to be awesome." We pause as we're about to pass a mini yellow car. It's slightly larger than one of those Power Wheels cars I was always begging my Dad for growing up. There is no roof and a black stripe breaks up the yellow color from the back end, over the top, and to the front. A black circle with the number thirty-two in the middle adds decoration to the front hood and side door.

And I hear a car. A van, to be precise, and soon after that, I see the vehicle pulling out of one of the garages with Eli behind the wheel, smiling smugly but also looking incredibly impatient. And I see clearly why he’d called it a piece of shit. It was apparently once a shuttle of some kind with lots of seats like a bus, and it has the name of the resort, which was apparently Wooded Acres Resort and Spa, plastered all over the side of it in faded letters. There’s more rust than paint, and it honestly looks like it’s held together with glue and duct tape. Even if I ignore its looks, the sputtering of the engine can’t be good. But I hop inside anyway, followed by Trevor. Heather jumps in and

A loud squeal pierced the air, and the smell of burning rubber flooded my nostrils as the van hit the brakes hard, desperately trying to slow down before hitting the red Bugatti. I held my breath as the van continued to zoom toward the race car. Nina aimed and quickly shot two sharp rounds, shooting out the van's front tire, which blew out with a loud pop. Nina shot another three bullets RAT-TAT-TAT in rapid succession. The bullets sprayed, one piercing the van's quarter panel with a ping, one sinking into the bumper, and the last found its target, rupturing the back wheel with a loud burst. With two tires popped, the white van spun out of control with a screech, doing a doughnut, burning ru

A white one and a blue one. “Aiden, slow down. I want to see who’s driving.” Aiden slowed the truck down, and the white van only had a driver. There is a logo on the side indicating it’s a plumbing company. That one isn’t it. I looked at the blue van, and there are two men sitting in the front seat. They both look questionable, but my doubt is removed when we pass them. My window is still down, and the stench of rogues wafts by my window, making me nauseous.

Instead of answering, she asked back. It was indeed a scooter parked not far from where Steen was standing, and the sight was quite cute in Vivian's eyes. She still remembered the many luxury cars belonging to the CEO of DAHL parked in the garage, and it was only natural if the man was standing next to one of his cars, not a cute scooter. Also, the scooter had a very bright color, and that was why it contrasted even more with Steen's dark aura. "The scooter is yours," Steen replied, and Vivian once again turned to the man, widening her blue eyes.

She complied nervously. Upon reaching the stop light, they took a sharp turn leaving the van behind. A few minutes later, the van also turned, confirming their suspicion. It was really following them. Uncle Shan increased their speed once more and when he saw a small street, he turned there. It was just a small alley where cars on the nearby building were parked. Her car was specially designed for this purpose. Uncle Shan parked the car in an empty slot and clicked a button to change the color and plate number of the car. The car was tinted so that one couldn't see if there were people inside.

You just need a new place to stay is all, he said. You'll be alright with Uncle Josh, okay sweetie? he said. Scarlett murmured inaudible cusses in frustration. Her ears pricked at the sound of a truck laggardly bringing itself to a halt by the bus stop. It was a second-hand dark blue Toyota two-seater van. A tall male, with the equally ghost pale skin tone as hers, got out of the car, with a sincere smile and worn-out body language.

“But don’t worry, we’ll be back in an hour or so.” Carrie opens her mouth to say something else when rubber screeches in the alley, followed by the roar of a powerful engine. A black van barrels through the entrance to the parking lot, fishtailing to a stop fifteen feet away. The angle of the sun makes it impossible to see through the dusty windshield. The side doors bang open, revealing our friends Pink Bunny and Angry Fox. They’re holding machine guns. But at least they have pants on.

"Touching my family will cost you." "Family," I gasp inwardly. "Did he just call me 'family?'" Evander removes the burning blade from my attacker's neck when, without warning, he swings the blade above his head, and pushes it down hard he stabs the bottom of the van. Grinning like a madman, he starts carving it like a pumpkin carriage about to become a jack-o-lantern, pulling the blade through the metal and fiberglass frame like it was butter, damaging the chassis as he makes a long open seam from wheel to wheel. When he is done, the van begins to wobble, and what used to be a functional vehicle begins to fall apart before our eyes like sliced bread. Four men come tumbling out like cockroa