The New Adventures of Scooby the Doo
by Jag T. Webmonkey
Last night, after eating too many Doritos and drinking too much Coke, I came up with the idea to make what might possibly be the first Scooby Doo/Winnie the Pooh crossover ever. So, without further ado, I give you The New Adventures of Scooby the Doo (ooh ooh ohh, I wanna be be like you ooh ooh).
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in my fanfic, nor am I proud of what I make them do. I think I was insane at the time. The Pooh is Disney material, and the Dew is a refreshing drink. I mean, Scooby is strictly Hannah Barbera (I think). I have nothing but love for the Doo, but a cartoon with a laugh track gets what it deserves.
If anyone thinks of a funny Scooby song to put here, let me know.
Today's Special Guest Star: Crocodile Hunter - Steve Irwin.
The Mystery Machine rolled through Arizona straight to Louisiana. The writers had never studied Geography. Freddy drove of course, talking non-stop about himself. Thelma slept noisily in the passenger's seat and Daphne did nothing but try to get Freddy in the sack. Shaggy and Scooby were eating in the back.
"Damnit, Scooby, you've eaten all the food again," Freddy berated the overly large dog, "Now I have to pull into that spooky gas station that wasn't there a second ago and fill up on the goods."
"Ruh-roh," Scooby replied to the sound of ill-timed laughter.
"There's no need for profanity, Scooby," Shaggy said.
Thelma snapped awake, "NO! SHAMPOO!!"
"Go back to sleep, Thelma, it was a bad dream," Daphne cooed, touching her.
"Get your hands off me, bitch," Thelma snarled, knocking away her hands, "Is that all you ever think about."
"Gee, all this fighting has made me miss the spooky gas station," Freddy said, "Now I had to pull over into this spooky thicket of spooky trees by the spooky swamp, and now we're stuck in the spooky mud. I'll go call a tow truck. Anyone wanna come with me?" Freddy motioned to Daphne, but she was too busy coming on to Shaggy now. Thelma was still yelling at her. "Fine, come along, Scooby."
The dog, glad to leave that fiasco behind, climbed out of the Mystery Machine to follow. The spooky walk along the spooky banks of the spooky river (why is it never daytime in the world of Scooby?) was quite spooky. Freddy did nothing but talk about himself.
"... and that's how my toe grew back," Freddy laughed, "But enough about me, let's talk about that dead body over there."
"Red rody?" Scooby gulped as the "crowd" laughed.
"Yup, it looks like the murderer cut him open, pulled out his intestines and wrapped them around that tree. I guess it's not natural causes he died of."
"Ruh-roh," Scooby said, hiding his face.
"You're right, Scooby. We're dealing with one sick sonofabitch."
"Did someone call?" came a heavily accented voice from the bushes.
Without thinking, Scooby leapt to action. "Sic him, Scooby, kill him, kill him," Freddy shouted as Scooby entered the bushes, looking for the taste of blood.
"Ow, it seems the bugger has chewed me left pinky finger off," the voice was definitely Australian, and Freddy got a peek in the bushes, "Beauty!"
"Steve Irwin?" Freddy called.
"Yup," shouted the frantic Steve.
"Kill him, Scooby, kill him," Freddy shouted with more enthusiasm. Too late, the danger-experienced Crocodile hunter already had Scooby tied up and relocated to a place where he couldn't hurt his peers.
"That was boomer, Freddy my boy, we should do it again," the Hunter wasn't breathing hard, but he was holding a bloddy stump of a pinky finger.
"Are you hurt, Mr. Irwin?" Freddy asked, sounding hopeful.
"Nah, I've had worse. These little buggers grow back like nobody's business."
"Hey, wait, you're not supposed to be popular for another 20 or so years."
"Wake up, Fredster, it's not the seventies anymore," Steve Irwin said, disgusted, "Take off the damn disco pants. These are the new adventures."
Freddy pulled out a copy of the script, "So they are. Hey guys," he called back to the van, "Get out of the seventies, we're in the year 2000."
"We are?" Shaggy called back, "Why would the writer do that?"
"Shutup and get back to work," the writer called down from the sky.
"Zoiks!" Shaggy said.
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to go ride in outer space and see the colonies," Thelma sounded happy.
"I think I made a mistake," the writer said, "Go back to the seventies."
"Ok, Freddy called back, "But when are we going to get to the mystery?"
"Soon, I promise," called the writer, "Pull out your scripts and cross out pages three through eight."
"Hey, these pages are blank."
"I know, it was a joke."
"Mine aren't," Freddy said, "Let's see. Spooky riverboat, honey trails, threesome!"
"All right," Daphne said.
"Here, I'll cross it ou-"
"Let's split up to cover more ground. These honey trails should lead somewhere. Shaggy, you, Scooby and Steve go down that way on the riverboat. Daphne, Thelma and I will head back to the Mystery Machine because three isn't a crowd."
Freddy left the riverboat with an arm around each girl. "Have you ever wondered what they do when they go off alone, Scooby?" Shaggy asked.
"RI ron't rike ro rink arout rit, "Scooby answered.
"Let's go..." Steve started, his eyes falling on the largest crocodile he had ever seen, "It's beautiful." He ran up to it and started wrestling it. "As you can see, its powerful jaws could crush my head in a second. I think I may have outdone myself this time. Shaggy, tell my Jeep I love her."
"At least we know he's not the one stealing all the worlds honey," Shaggy said.
"I did kill that first bloke, though," came the muffled voice from inside the crocodile.
"This is stupid, Scooby," Shaggy sighed, "All we do is run around seeing things in our pot induced hallucinations again. The other three stay in that van until Freddy takes credit for the solved mystery. Let's skip the next few pages and go get something to eat. I've got the munchies again."
"Rokay," Scooby said to more ill-timed laughter.
"Well, here he is, our honey smuggler," Freddy stated dramatically, "By the way, you two were great..."
"Get on with it, Freddy, I have the munchies again,"
"You and your pot, Shaggy," Daphne said, touching him.
"The ghost is actually...," Freddy said as he pulled the mask off, "Winnie the Pooh?"
"Yeah, and I woud've gotten away with it if it weren't for you damn kids and your stupid-ass dog," Pooh said in a gruff voice, "I'll kill you, I'll kill you all." Pooh jumped Daphne, choking her.
"Get off my bitch, you bastard," Freddy screamed.
"I thought I was your bitch," Thelma said. Scooby grabbed the silly old bear and shook the stuffing out of him.
"Good work, Scooby," Freddy said, "Let's go."
The Mystery Machine rolled on, never explaining how it got out of the mud from winter to spring to summer, then winter. Then, foregoeing spring and summer, straight into fall...
Well, there ya have it. It was funny last night at like 2:30, but I was insane. Remember that. I'd like to thank all those people who...
Steve Irwin, from behind the writer, had hit him with a 2x4. "That's for killing me off so quickly."