Scooby Doo References Novels & Stories

She’s as honest as she is sweet and generous, and it made the nickname stick with Ryan as well as me. The fact that she hasn’t been opposed to it, says enough in itself. What other front page beauty like her would ever accept being called a middle-aged man? My brain is short wiring. The channels and gears flipping and flopping all over the surface as well as beneath it. Days like these. Moments like these. I feel very much like the experimental bat from Ferngully. Obsessed as Nicky and I were with Scooby-Doo, we still had a mountain of other old VHS tapes. Most of them animated. The only time I know he’s guaranteed not to meddle is when we are having a movie marathon over the phone.

So no Scooby-Doo mysteries were solved here. "You're right." Drunko leaned into my space, specifically in the "your too close zone" as he chugged some drink that smelled like pure gasoline. He belched, obnoxiously loud and right in my face. The nerve of some people's children… "Hey, dude." Do not scissor-kick this dingus in the face, self, don't do it! "You mind easing back some? Trying to strip here." My complaint fell on dumb drunk deaf ears: "Hey you, elf chick, do some magic or something! Do a spell!"

Cricket After putting a pot of coffee on to brew, Pearl led me to the back of the gigantic ranch house, where she pushed on a wall panel and a door popped open. “Oh, my word, you have a Scooby Doo door?” I breathed out. Pearl chuckled. “I’ve never heard them called that, but that’s what I’m calling them from now on.” “Them? There are more than just this one?” “I have six Scooby Doo doors. Never know when we gotta hide a Saint from a sinner.”

“You don't even know what I want or who I'm here to see, Lynn.” “She doesn't want to see you, I suggest you leave, she's pretty good when it comes to throwing things at people, she never misses.” I smile as I push my way into the apartment, “I would rather see for myself Lynn, Thank you.” Diana is relaxed on the couch watching a Scooby Doo series, something I never knew she did, I tilt my head to the right, and look at Lynn with my hands pointing at the TV in confusion. “I kinda influenced her with that, it's not her thing per say.”

“If you make one more Scooby-Doo reference, I will shove that scroll somewhere anatomically impressive.” He grins. “Zoinks.” I stifle a laugh. For a moment, it helps. We turn from the mirror. But as we walk away, its surface ripples behind us—quiet, subtle—like water catching moonlight. It doesn’t reflect our backs. It reflects a battlefield. One painted in silver. And blood.

Bento ran off across the yard and I laughed at his efforts to look for the object as if it were the most important thing in the world, coming out all proud with Scooby in his mouth the moment he found it. "So far I don't know what I did wrong, but anyway, I'm not going to get into these ridiculous discussions anymore. I can't afford it (...)" as I waited for Benedict to return from his Scooby-Doo hunt, I heard John's familiar deep voice from afar sounding grumpy.

He laughs. He says, "If I'm shrek, then you're velma." I raise a brow at him. "From Scooby-dooby-doo." I scoff, but I'm smiling. "We're a pair, eh." He says. To that I grin, too. Big. * Scarves...

The sharp pain from my scalp had me holding my breath. “I’m not a bug, but your face is red. Are you hot… dog? Ha, ha, ha I make myself laugh. Hotdog, It’s perfect!” I had no words as the thing somehow managed to situate itself back on my shoulders now. Still holding my left ear, it smacked the back of my head so hard my vision blurred. “Ow, ouch! You little fucker!” I clenched my teeth as I spoke. “Gee whizz! Come on Scooby Doo. Try harder.”