A/N: This story is in Velma's perspective. Just so's you know... although you'd probably figure it out anyway. Please remember to review, it makes my day! Jazzola :)

The letter arrived early Saturday morning. We'd just had one of Shaggy's extra-large breakfasts, so we were busy cleaning up when the mailman rang the doorbell. Fred went to see who it was, since Daphne and I were battling the grease on a frying pan and Shaggy and Scooby were attempting to salvage a pot in which Shaggy had made "chilli con extra-carne, Shaggy style". I'm amazed the bottom wasn't burned right through.

Fred looked puzzled when he came back.

"Look who it's from. He hasn't sent us any mail since we moved in. I can't think anything's up."

It was a letter from our landlord, a man named Mr James. The letter was on very official-looking paper, and we were confused when we saw who it was from. Mr James wasn't chasing up rent or anything like that. He'd been pleased to take the famous Mystery Inc. on as tenants.

Fred opened it with the rest of us clustered round the table, and gasped as his eyes fixed on the first line. Then they narrowed, and he let the letter fall onto his leg, his eyes unfocused. Daphne and I exchanged glances, thinking what the letter might say. Several things sprang to mind for me, but they were all unlikely.

"Freddy…" I began tentatively, thinking what the letter might be about. He just shook his head and passed it over.

"I don't believe it."

I also looked at the first line and gave a little shriek. Shaggy and Scooby now looked worried, and Daph leaned over my shoulder and narrowed her eyes at it, a scowl blooming on her face as she reached down and hugged Fred over the back of the chair. I shook my head and passed the letter to Shaggy to have a look at, and his reaction was the same as the rest of us: disbelief and shock.

"No way, man."

The first line of the letter, printed there boldly in black and white, was, "NOTICE OF EVICTION".

"What have we done to deserve being evicted, Mr James?"

Fred was arguing on the phone with the landlord, and Shaggy and Scooby were busy packing the kitchen stuff, making sure that they didn't miss anything or leave anything behind. All our kitchen equipment, unsurprisingly, has to be bought from a specialist supplier- their normal clients are restaurants and such.

"We kept up with rent, we haven't done anything to the house- sorry? No, that's not true. You can come here yourself and find out if that's true. That's just a lie. No, and we did send it off! You've already got new tenants? Oh, for goodness' sake…"

He slammed the phone down and sighed, flopping against the wall and knocking the calendar off clumsily.

"Oh, brother…"

He crouched down to pick it up, but knocked his funny bone on the table as he did so. He shook his arm angrily, and allowed his hand to curl into a fist. Daphne walked over and picked the calendar up herself, then knelt down and murmured something to him. He smiled at her, but his hand was still a fist. She reached out and started smoothing her hand over his, waiting until his fingers were lying loosely in hers before getting up and pulling him up with her. Daphne and Fred have evolved tactics for when something's up with each other, and this was Daphne's tactic. I smiled at them and went into the kitchen.

"Like, did Freddy win?" Shaggy asked eagerly, looking up. I shook my head and watched their faces fall.

"Sorry, guys. Mr James's already got a new tenant. Freddy lost."

They sighed at each other and at me. I was feeling defeated as well- we had assumed we would be staying in the condo for at least a couple more years, and I had just finished painting my room in burnt orange and putting in a deep red carpet to make it more- well, "me". We'd spent hundreds of dollars on it and now we were being evicted without even two days' notice. I was pretty sour towards Mr James right now, and trying to think of a clause in some law that would stop Mr James in his tracks. I couldn't think of any.

"Carry on packing," Daphne sighed, sidling into the kitchen as the doorbell rang and Fred went to answer it. "I called my dad and we're going to take our stuff to Blake House when we move out. We can stay there until we find a new place to rent, Dad just got rid of the old Mercedes so we can put our stuff in the garage."

The old Mercedes? They only bought it two years ago. Ah well, that was the Blakes.

"That's great," I said, packing away a saucepan rack as Fred walked in. He picked up one of the boxes.

"What's happening, Freddy?" Daphne asked, looking at him with the box in his arms. We all stopped, waiting for an answer.

"Guys, we need to get our stuff packed now. The new tenant's waiting on the doorstep."