Characters appearing in this story were created by Hanna-Barbera/Ruby-Spears and are properties of Warner Brothers Animation. Exceptions to this are the ridiculous number of OCs and Mary Sues that appear in later chapters. This is me goofing around with Scrappy Doo and alternate timelines. I offer my apologies in advance for every crime against character and canon I commit herein. Enjoy!

Tennessee Doo-Tour

Fred let the Mystery Machine wander a little while taking in the scenery as he dropped South through Klamath National Park. The gang was a two day drive from home, parents, and catching up with friends in Crystal Cove. "There's a lot of history here."

"It's nice to see volunteers stepping up to restore the forest," Velma added. "Wildlife is flourishing. It'll be a few centuries to get the old growth trees back, though."

"I was thinking more in terms of the Native American history, but you're right."

"I was thinking in terms of fishing," Shaggy piped up. "Tis the season for trout and salmon!"

"Yuck," Scrappy groaned to himself.

"More fish for us," Shaggy chuckled. "We'll save you a salad."

Scrappy glanced up from his comic book. "Yuck with yuck filling."

Scooby laughed.

"We don't have time to fish, guys." Fred slowed and turned at an access road marked 'Klamath Municipal Power District - Modoc Valley Dam.' "We have another gig."

"Really, Fred," Shaggy groused. "How can you put some goofy dam over a night of grilled salmon?"

"Because it's potentially a night of Native American ghosts, Shaggy," Freds excitement was palpable. "Real ones!"
"The abandoned Modoc Valley Dam has been haunted for years," A few keystrokes in Velma's tablet brought info to her screen, "But since decommissioning projects started, ghost sitings skyrocketed."

"Again, I ask how you can put that over a night of good eating?"

"It's important for the environment, Shaggy. The sooner the dam comes down, the sooner the rivers replenish. That should help your salmon, too."

"It doesn't help them into my stomach."

"You'll live."

"You say that every time."

Velma leaned in with a half-teasing flirt. "You never prove me wrong."

Scooby giggled at Shaggy's sudden discomfort.

With the Project Manager's blessing, Mysteries, Inc. put up motion-triggered cameras around places the ghosts are most often seen; the top of the dam and its Control Center. In an attempt to verify whether these are real ghosts, Fred and Daphne experimented with ectoplasm tracing equipment. Velma looked up details from the most recent sitings. Shaggy and Scooby set up a camp stove with provisions from the van while Scrappy did what he could to help the gang.

The sun dropped low into the hills. The waning light changed the water in the reservoir from greenish-blue to deep steely charcoal with shattered streaks of orange, pink, and red from the sky and setting sun. Despite being on an old dam, it was a beautiful campsite.

Velma poked her head out from the corridor to the powerhouse. "Hey, Gang," She motioned. "Come look at this."

"What's up?" Fred and Daphne got up from Scooby and Shaggy's cooking show to check out a potential clue.

"We're just getting to ze besta parta," Shaggy flourished a handful of uncooked spaghetti over a boiling pot as Scooby juggled tomatoes and cheese.

"In a minute Shaggy. We need to see as much as we can while there's still some light."

"I'll watch your show, Uncle Scooby."

The moment passed. Shaggy dropped his character. "See, this is what I was talking about, Scoob. Priorities."

"Rah." Scooby put the tomatoes and cheese on a cutting board while Shaggy fed the pasta into the pot without show.

Velma ran a finger over several surfaces as Fred and Daphne followed her. "For an abandoned anything, this place is awfully clean. I haven't seen one cobweb or build-up of dust, anywhere. An abandoned structure? In the woods? This place should be loaded with dirt, bugs, and rodents."

"And there's power to the equipment," Daphne motioned toward various switches and control boards with glowing LEDs and monitoring screens. "What do you think, Fred?"

"Looks like precedent for a trap, to me."

"Once again, we put together a fine meal. Once again, we're left to eat it." Shaggy and Scooby shared a look. "Not a bad thing!"

"Rah!" Scooby loaded his plate with as much as he could scoop from the pot. When he reached for the pasta sauce, Shaggy snagged the plate from him and slipped an empty one in front of him. "Thanks, Scoob."

"Ro roblem," Scooby looked down. "Rey!"

"You eating, Scrap?"

"Yes, Sir!"

Shaggy portioned off a small batch of spaghetti from Scooby's plate and dropped grated parmesan over it. "Here you go. Scooby has the sauce."

Scooby dropped his consternation to put sauce and three meatballs over Scrappy's pasta. There was being selfish, and then there was starving his nephew. Despite Scrappy's lack of interest in gluttony, he kept himself from crossing that line.

"Thanks, Uncle Scooby!" Scrappy motioned toward the corridor to the Control Center. "Those guys don't know what they're missing. Where are they, anyway?"

"Who cares? Dig in!"

In one synchronized movement, Shaggy and Scooby tucked into their food. Scrappy found a place to sit and enjoyed a meatball and bite of spaghetti before his ears pricked up. There was activity going on inside. He watched the corridor for some sign of Velma and Fred. Shaggy and Scooby completely ignored it.

"Boy, what a sunset. You know what would make this perfect?"

Shaggy and Scooby kept eating. Scrappy knew this mode well. He continued. "Music."

"Mmph." Shaggy nodded approval. Scooby gave a thumbs-up.

"I'll get the boombox." It was an excuse. His real goal was a flashlight, but he didn't need Scooby corralling him to the van or some Houdini escape situation. "Nobody'd call it 'trouble' if they'd just let me help," he thought. "We'd solve these mysteries a hundred times faster."

Scrappy made it back to the van, but discovered this day was one out of a million that Fred ever locked it. The lockout key was gone from its hiding spot behind the spare tire. He looked around for something to jimmy a lock, but found nothing thin or long enough to work. He turned back to the dam and heard Shaggy and Scooby scream. Darkness made it difficult to see anything from the parking lot, but Scrappy wasted no time running head-first into another fight.

"Hang on, Guys! I got ya!" Scrappy burst back onto the dam with fists ready to go. "Guys?" There was no sign of Shaggy or his uncle apart from the still-blazing camp stove and messy piles of overturned spaghetti on concrete. "Aw, you ruined dinner. Whoever you are; shame on you!"

A hollow moan issued from the direction of the Control Center. Scrappy spun on his heels to confront a floating masked figure dressed as a Modoc Native. "Ah! Surprise attack, huh? I can play that!" The figure raised its arms and floated toward Scrappy. The plucky pup ducked, weaved, and danced as if he took on Holyfield. "You're lucky my uncle left you for me! He'd turn you into hamburger!" Another hollow moan came from the ghost. "You're all talk! Give up now and maybe I'll go easy on you!" The ghost kept advancing on Scrappy. "You asked for it!" Scrappy threw two punches which hit cloth, and what felt like leaves. "Ha! Nice job padding yourself!" The ghost rose and tried back off, but Scrappy tackled it. "No getting away, Buddy! Take this!" He continued attacking the threat until he got enough of its costume off to find it full of sticks and leaves. It wasn't a ghost, but a scarecrow puppet.

"You just don't know when to go down, do you?" Scrappy panted from exertion, but composed himself for another attack. Bits of cloth and leaves lay around the scene and Scrappy could see it was just a puppet. That didn't stop him from continuing the fight. Another lunge landed awkwardly. The puppet snagged his collar, forcing Scrappy to take it off or choke. Escalating his effort to 'life and death,' Scrappy slipped free of his collar and tried to snatch it from the puppet. "My mother gave me that! Give it BACK!" He lunged for another tackle, but his efforts were thwarted when the dilapidated form flew upward; trying to lure him over the railing. The movement was too sloppy. A cable caught on an awning and sheared. The puppet tumbled over the railing into the reservoir. Scrappy watched it disappear with a few shiny glints from his collar as it sunk into the black water. He couldn't stop himself from a final taunt. "Serves you right for stealing! Today's takedown was brought to you by the letter S… FOR SPLAT!" He then left with a scrap of the costume, plus stuffing, to find Scooby and the gang.

"Guys! It's all fake!" He yelled. He heard them screaming somewhere in the powerhouse. "Guys? Where are you?" A glimpse of Scooby and Shaggy shadows miming full panic mode fluttered through the lights from the powerhouse. "Guys! Wait up!" Scrappy pushed himself into high gear to catch up with the gang. Unfortunately, he ran so fast, he lost his step and blundered into another ghost. "Alright you! Put 'em up!"

This ghost turned out not to be wrapped sticks and leaves, but a muscular corporeal being. One swift move with a headlock and canvas bag rendered Scrappy blinded and contained. "That's some grip for a ghost, Pal! You're lucky it's me and not my Uncle Scooby! He'd obliterate you!"

The ghost ran for a few moments, mumbled something unintelligible, and dropped Scrappy into a trash bin. He had a more important mission. Scrappy continued snarling challenges at the ghost until the only sounds he heard were screams from the gang growing faint. They were getting farther away.

Scrappy tossed himself against the sides of the bin until it tipped over, spilling him and its contents across a concrete landing. It looked over the powerhouse and main generators. "Guys! Hey! Guys!" Scrappy could still hear the gang, but their noises were quickly drowned out by sluice gates opening. He could hear thousands of gallons of water rumbling over spillways outside while other rumbles came from water rushing through penstocks and past generator turbines. The chilling fear of failure came over him. He left his post. The gang might be caught in the water. He had to stop it. Scrappy pulled himself from the litter and ran toward where he thought the Control Center was.

"Who turned on the waterworks?" Fred and Daphne finally caught up with Velma, Shaggy and Scooby, each distracted from their panic by the sudden volume of water rushing beneath the catwalk they stood on. "This can't be good," Daphne fretted. "Right! Forget the ghost! We have to get back up there." Three members of Mysteries Inc marched resolutely back the way they came. Shaggy and Scooby hung back. "Forget the ghost? I'd like to raise an objection, Fred."

"Guys…"

"Can't we vote on this?"

"Rah. Representation."

"Come on you chickens! We don't even have time for the Scooby Snack routine. Let's go!"

Shaggy winked slyly at Scooby while pretending to follow Fred. "There's always time for the secret stash!"

Scooby giggled. "Rah! Recret!"

A box of Scooby Snacks appeared from beneath his shirt before Shaggy flicked two toward Scooby's waiting mouth and two into his.

"Could we go now?" Velma's glasses did little to hide her facial expression.

Shaggy giggled nervously. "After you, Miss."

"Nice try." Velma collared Scooby and Shaggy and pushed them along the catwalk. "How did you even get those? I thought Daphne hid them all."

More giggles from Shaggy and Scooby. "Ramazon!"

"Prime! Hehehehahaha!"

Velma rolled her eyes.

Ahead, shocked yells broke out. "Scrappy!"
"Do something Fred!"

Scooby and Shaggy shared a look. "Rappy?"

"Your nephew strikes again."

Scooby rushed ahead to find Fred using a long hooked pole to reach a small brown shape that was caught in a chute. It was inundated with water and hard to see, but one could make out ears, a tail, and a collar. Despite the water rushing past, it kept a frozen grip on the Doo family icon.

"RAPPY!"

"Hang on, Gang. I've almost got him."

Velma was caught between Shaggy holding himself back and Scooby nearly diving from the catwalk. "Hurry, Fred!"

Fred managed to hook the limp form and raised it into the air. Relief evaporated when water burst from vapor conduits overhead. Water crashed over the pole and dashed Fred's rescue efforts. The form broke free while the weight of the water forced Fred's last hope out of his hands. "No-no! NO!"

Daphne screamed.

"RAPPY! ROOOOOOOH!" It took all of Velma's strength to hold Scooby back. Shaggy threw arms around his neck to help restrain him.

All watched helplessly as the form of a face-down lifeless puppy roiled in the swirling currents for just a few seconds before gravity sucked him and countless gallons of water down the outflow flume. Scrappy Doo was gone.

Fred and Velma pushed through shock enough to make it back to the Control Center while Daphne remained with a grieving puddle of Shaggy and Scooby. Wordless, they worked the gate controls to dampen the flows and eventually get them stopped. Their cameras were gone. There were signs of a scuffle outside. Debris, sticks, leaves, and bits of cloth lay here and there. A loose cable dangled from a block and tackle not far from a railing overlooking the reservoir. Ripples over onyx water sparkled in shafts of moonlight slicing through clouds above.

"How many times we left him alone… We never should've… Scrappy…"

"Fred." Velma's few intelligent words of comfort scattered when she saw his face. Her glasses fogged from her own tears. She could do little more than hold him as his body quaked in sorrow.

Police lights flickered from three units pulled up around the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne spoke with Officer Keith Hurley while Shaggy and Scooby despondently cleaned up their camp stove and overturned spaghetti. Two other officers looked around the site with flashlights.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Say that again?"

"He's nearly three feet tall. Brown."

"Brown… Hair? Eyes? Skin?"

"Oh, his eyes are deep brown. Nearly black," Daphne added.

"And nearly three feet? Is he a child? Perhaps a little person?"

"No, he's young. Not quite a teenager yet."

"Okay. I think we've got it. Pre-teen, brown hair, brown eyes, approximately three feet tall. Do you know what he last wore?"

"A blue collar."

"Blue collar… Polo? Sweater? Jacket?"

"Dog collar."

"Excuse me?"

"He had a blue dog collar on," Daphne stepped forward. "With metal tags."

"This is a highly unique description." Keith cleared his throat and scratched his ear with his pen. "I'm sorry to ask, but was something going on here?"

"Wh-What? No." Fred flustered. "No-no-no."

"Scrappy Doo is a puppy," Daphne clarified. "He's a Great Dane."

"Oh," Officer Hurley furrowed his brow and closed his notebook. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'm afraid we can't allocate resources for a missing dog." He turned the two officers scanning the scene. "False alarm, Fellas." He made a cut-throat gesture at his cohorts. "Forget it."

"He's not a dog, Sir. He's family."

The two officers started walking back to their cars. Keith grimaced at Fred and Daphne. "People love their dogs, I understand…"

"Officer, please listen."

"I sympathize, truly. My wife and I have Salukis. They're amazing. They're our kids. But this is simply not a police matter. I hope you find him. Don't stay out here all night. It's dangerous."

The gang watched the officers visit for a few moments before driving away. "Well, that was a whole lot of nothing," Shaggy grumbled and put the camp stove away. "Typical."

"I guess it's up to us, Gang." Fred looked across the lit spillway far below them. "It's not like we don't know where he went."

Velma's face lit in the glow from her tablet. "I've been doing some research on that. It says here that Modoc's hydroelectric penstocks put out 32,000 cubic feet of water per second. That's just what goes past the turbines. The sluice gates were also wide open. Considering the force and velocity we saw earlier, Scrappy went through the equivalent of going over Niagara Falls if it was compressed and fired from a cannon." Velma looked up at Shaggy. "I hate to say this, but with the physics involved, the chances of a body being left to find are miniscule."

Scooby collapsed into another puddle of grief. Shaggy moved to comfort him. "I'll never call you out for being smart, but you could stand to work on your bedside manner."

"I'm really sorry, Scooby." Velma's tablet went dark.

"We can't give up. Right Fred?"

"I don't know, Daph. There's a lot of river between here and Spears Lake. Plus, helicopters can't access parts of Clemmons Canyon. It's hard even for rock climbers to get through."

Daphne put her head into his chest. He embraced her in one arm. "It's too dark to do anything, now. Let's head back to Klamath Falls and figure things out in the morning."

"Guys?"

Scrappy fumbled his way through a dark corridor. He could see faint light coming from emergency exit signs and the occasional office window. The thunder of crashing water receded long ago, but he still couldn't hear the gang. Being lost didn't fluster him. It was when he found his greatest clues. "Ears up, eyes open," He told himself. "Puppy power."

Another hallway led to a door cracked open. The door read 'Security.' The office was well-lit from fluorescents above and several security monitors mounted on a wall. Several camera angles showed various parts of the dam; the generator wings, spillways, control center, access doors, the top of the dam, parking lot, and secured points nearby.

"This is perfect!" Scrappy climbed onto a stool before the monitors. "We should've come here first. You can see everything from here." His tail flew into an enthusiastic wag when he saw Scooby and the Gang talking near the Mystery Machine. He found a microphone in front of a nearby panel marked 'Public Address.'

"Guys! Hey guys!" Scrappy tried to use the mic. He flipped various switches trying to get Mysteries, Inc. to hear him. "Guys! Come here! Come see this!" Despite his efforts, Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma got into the van. Daphne and Fred talked privately and embraced for a few moments before getting in and starting the van.

"No. No-no! Guys! Wait!" Scrappy gave up on the mic and ran as fast as he could to catch the gang. "Guys!" The dim light in the hallways didn't do him any favors, plus he could barely remember the turns he took getting to the Security Office. Shadows fooled him and he ran into an obstacle which knocked a fire extinguisher free from its mount above him. Gravity took over.

After a fitful motel sleep, Daphne and Velma knocked at Shaggy and Scooby's door with no response. They found Shaggy at Waffle Hut, across the street. Uncharacteristic for him; he sat at a booth, minus Scooby, absently stirring a cold cup of coffee.

"How long have you been here?" Fred lined up behind Daphne as she slid into the booth. Velma scooted in from the other side. Seeing the table clean, with no crumbs or dirty plates was not lost on them.

"Ah, I dunno. An hour?"

Velma reached behind his back and tried to comfort him. Shaggy responded with a carefully draped arm over his ex's shoulder. Fred turned over a coffee cup for him and Daphne. "Where's Scooby?"

"Neither of us could sleep anymore. We decided to go for a walk, only I came here and he went the other direction."

"Poor Scooby."

"Good morning, everyone!" A cheerful middle-aged waitress buzzed over the the freshly-populated booth. "My name's Wanda. Can I get you anything? More coffee? Tea? Somethin' from the griddle?"

Shaggy sighed.

"May I have some Earl Grey?" Velma turned over her cup.

"Coffee is fine for us." Daphne nodded.

"Great! I'll bring over some fresh creamer and you can order breakfast when you're ready."

Shaggy waited for Wanda to move out of earshot. "Guys, what are we gonna tell his mom? She's gonna know somethin's up when he can't come to the phone. We're going to have to tell her."

"Maybe we don't have to."

Daphne's eyebrows shot up in shock at Velma. "Excuse me?"

Shaggy removed his arm from her shoulder and looked at her in disbelief.

"Guys, it's Scrappy. He gets lost all the time. He runs away. Cops aren't taking it seriously. We have no body. What if he just ran away? It's not as if there's proof he didn't."

"You have to be kidding, Velma," Fred massaged the bridge of his nose. "We all saw…"

"We all saw what? Cloth? A piece of wood? Carpet? We have no idea that was Scrappy. It just looked like him."

"Except for the collar."

"Piece of plastic."

Fred shook his head. "Velma, I can see what you're trying to do, but I'm completely shocked this is coming from you. I mean," he gestured, "You."

"I'm merely looking at consequences. Ruby Doo made us responsible for his care and safety. We failed. If we do what Shaggy's talking about, what do you think is going to happen? We could be sued off the face of the planet. We could go to jail for neglect. Abuse. Pick a charge."

Wanda came back to the table and Mysteries, Inc. asked for more time for their breakfast order.

"I'm just not okay with this," Fred sipped his coffee. "If we lie, we're no better than the crooks we turn over. We can't call ourselves Mysteries, Inc. anymore."

Shaggy looked down into his swirling mug. "Maybe it's time we take a break anyway."

"Break up?" Daphne searched everyone's faces. No one answered.

The door opened at the front of the restaurant. Scooby wandered in, looking grim. He made his way to the booth and the Gang.

"Scoob! Where've you been?"

Scooby slid into the booth next to Velma. He put Shaggy's cell phone on the table in front of them. "Ronecall."

Continue to Part Two.