Retconned my previous chapter a bit hope you enjoy tho!
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The whole "waking up as Shaggy Rogers" thing was wild, no beyond wild sure.
But It was better than that abyss by miles so for now I was rolling with it. My stomach was calling the shots anyway, and those pancakes downstairs smelled pretty decent. Plus, I had gangly limbs now—might as well see what this body could do.
I strolled downstairs, already getting the hang of Shaggy's relaxed gait. The kitchen was exactly what I'd expected—cluttered, lived-in, with that particular brand of chaos that screamed "loving but overwhelmed parents."
"Morning, Norville," came a warm voice.
His, my?? Okay my—parents sat at a small table, newspapers spread between them and coffee mugs steaming. His mother, a soft-faced woman with graying brown hair, smiled at me with the kind of tired affection that came from years of dealing with a less than average teenager. His father barely looked up from the sports section, just a look and grunted acknowledgment while shoveling eggs into his mouth.
I knew thsse two didnt enjoy shaggy hanging around hooligans but unfortunately I hadnt changed over night. Well in that sense.
"Sit, honey. Made your favorite."
A stack of pancakes waited at my spot, golden and fluffy, with a pat of butter melting on top. My brain catalogued the scene: pre-made mix, probably from a box. Butter straight from the fridge, not softened. Syrup that had that artificial shine.
But Shaggy's body was starving, so I dug in.
The first bite made me pause. Not bad, but... man, no soul in this at all. The Sanji knowledge was already kicking in—I could taste that this was just going through the motions. No passion, or technique.
Still, food was food, and this body was starving. I polished off the entire stack with smooth efficiency, flashing Mom an easy smile.
"Don't forget you've got school today," Mom said, placing our plates in the sink. "And try not to sleep through first period again."
Crystal Cove High. Time to meet some legends.
This was going to be fun.
Getting ready was easy enough. Everything fit perfectly—loose jeans, green V-neck, brown jacket. Classic Shaggy fit, and honestly? It worked. I looked pretty good. It helped that everything was luxury material
The walk to school was like entering a live-action version of my favorite show. Or more a idealized version of everything from the movies, human faces and hair but all unrealistically good. Crystal Cove had that perfect seaside mystery town vibe, and I was already mentally cataloguing all the places where supernatural shenanigans probably went down.
Crystal Cove High looked exactly right—red brick, institutional but somehow charming. I walked through the front doors like I owned the place, taking in every detail with quiet appreciation.
Now I just needed to find my locker. No big deal, I'd figure it out.
Eventually.
I was casually exploring the halls when someone tapped my shoulder.
"Hey, Shaggy!"
I turned around casually, and my heart nearly stopped.
Fred, Fred Jones. In the flesh, looking younger but with that same natural leadership energy radiating off him. Blonde hair, confident smile, probably fifteen or hmm actually maybe lower he seemed young.
This was already awesome.
"Dude, what's up, Fred!" I said smoothly, the speech pattern feeling completely natural.
"Mind if I borrow you for a few seconds?" Fred asked, and there was something in his tone, excited, conspiratorial. That made me nod immediately.
He led me through the halls to his locker that was apparently right next to mine. Locker mates. Of course.
"Put your stuff away," Fred said, opening the metal door.
Now this was interesting. Amateur detective gear, flashlights, rope, magnifying glass, notebooks, nets. Fred was already building his trap empire.
Fred leaned in cautiously. "I've been watching Mr. Wickles—you know, the history teacher? He's been staying late every night this week, and I think something weird is going on."
Here we go. First mystery of many.
Fred pulled out an elaborate rope contraption. "I was thinking we could set up a trap, catch him in the act!"
I had to appreciate the enthusiasm, but my forensic training was already kicking in. Plus, having seen how Fred's traps usually went, maybe we should gather intel first.
"Like, how about we scope things out tonight before we spring any traps?" I suggested casually. "Figure out what we're dealing with, you know?"
Fred paused, then grinned. "Smart thinking. Intelligence gathering first, then we move in." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Meet me here tonight. We'll do some surveillance."
"Sounds like a plan, man."
"We should probably head to English," Fred said, closing the locker. "Mrs. Dinkley gets cranky when we're late."
Mrs. Dinklebarrie. The name seemed familiar.
Walking to English with Fred was smooth. Here was a legend in the making, treating me like his partner in mystery-solving, and honestly? The guy had serious leadership vibes. I could see why people followed him into the most ridiculous situations.
We slipped into English just as the bell rang, and I spotted her immediately.
Velma Dinkley sat in the far corner, absorbed in some advanced-looking book. Oh, wait it was a mystery fanfic. She glanced up, saw us, and waved us over slightly unfocused concentrated on her book.
Even younger than Fred, maybe fourteen? but those sharp eyes behind the glasses were already analyzing everything. When she looked at me, I felt assessed—and apparently approved of.
"You're late," she stated matter-of-factly as we took our seats.
"fashionably late," I corrected with an easy grin. It was pretty nice breathing fresh air and even meeting some of the main character from scooby doo!
As the teacher started droning about American literature, I settled back in my chair. Yeah, this class was going to be boring, but I was sitting next to future legends. Soon we'd be solving mysteries, catching bad guys, and having the kind of adventures most people only dreamed about.
Life was about to get very interesting.