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Mystery Incorporated solved hundreds of mysteries around Crystal Cove, making friends with all the freaks, geeks, and hep-cats in town and exploring every creepy castle and ghoulish grotto within a hundred miles. Those adventures made them famous, and the TV shows based on them meant they never had to do anything else for the rest of their lives. But there’s one mystery so personal, so grotesque, that they never even tried to solve it, for fear that the pain and shock would drive the gang apart forever. Even decades later, they’ve only given vague clues about it as their stories were told and retold to different generations. Now, so many years have passed and so many legends have been passed around that the truth needs to be set down or else lost completely.

Before Fred got the gang together, before Daphne got interested in Fred, even before Velma had taken pity on Shaggy as a hopeless student in algebra, Scooby and Shaggy were the best of friends. They were born in the same year, but Scooby aged incredibly slowly for a dog, and was remarkably intelligent for his species, even being capable of speaking (albeit with some difficulty with the letter “r”). So, when Shaggy was seventeen, Scooby was in his prime, and the two of them did everything together. Of course, slackers that they were, “everything” tended to be limited to eating and watching monster movies, but they were happy with that.

One fateful Thursday evening in October, they were settling down with about a dozen pizzas and a marathon of Vincent Van Ghoul movies. Shaggy was fetching a fresh batch of Scooby Snacks out of the oven, while Scooby licked his lips in anticipation. But these Scooby Snacks were special: Shaggy had finally begged and borrowed the money for a quarter ounce of quality Mary Jane, and he’d baked it into the snacks to make the flicks a mellower, cooler watch. Scooby didn’t know what the herb was, but it smelled OK, and he trusted Shaggy.

Three hours, five pizzas, and one tray of Scooby Snacks later, the two of them were as well baked as the snacks themselves. They stared in awe at the flickering TV screen, watching what they thought was the greatest movie they’d ever seen in their lives. That it was a commercial for 7Up didn’t matter compared to the bright colors and trippy dancing cowboys.

“Wow… this was, like, a great idea, Scoob. We should do this more often.”

“Reah! Rou raid it! Ree hee hee hee!”

Scooby leaned over onto Shaggy’s torso, sighing contentedly. He had never felt like this before, and it was great to have his best friend here with him. Everything was great to him. Shaggy had a clearer head, but it was still light and buzzed. He grabbed a slice of cold pepperoni pizza, watching the cheese slowly stretch between the pie and his hand as he moved it up to his jaws.

“Pizza tastes better too, man. This is, like, the best pizza we’ve ever had, and we get it twice a week. It even tastes great, like, backwards!”

He flipped the pizza over crust first and began to munch it down, as the loose string of cheese broke off near the bigger pie. Scooby drooled at the sight of it, then greedily struck at the cheese like a viper, gobbling it down inch by inch. Working at both ends, Scooby and Shaggy’s mouths got closer and closer, until they met at the tip of the slice. The two of them, ravenous as always, started competing for the rest of the piece, working their tongues against each other and savoring every little morsel. But as their tongues wrestled with each other, they began to taste something else: each other.

Part of it was on their tongues, with the lingering aftertastes of pizza, Scooby Snacks, and cannabis all rolled together. But a part of it, whether they knew or not, was the tongues themselves, something meaty and watery which would later be described scientifically as “umami”. As they kept exploring each other’s tastes, Shaggy had a thought and pushed Scooby’s head away from his for a moment.

“Hold on, Scoob. I think we’re, like, making out.”

“Uh… Raybe?’

“Yeah. You taste, like, amazing though.”

“Rou roo.”

“Thanks… Wanna keep going?”

“OK!”

Their tongues moved with a new ferocity now, swirling around each other like they were both licking their plates clean. Shaggy held Scooby closer this time, now more interested in him than in the food around them. His parents were off at some hotel for their anniversary, so no one would bother them tonight. It was just the two of them, best friends and partners in crime. The thought of it was making his love sausage feel like it was on fire, as it tightened his normally loose pants. As it throbbed and pulsed, he gave Scooby a final scratch behind the ear, then moved away to ask him a question.

“I wanna take off my pants, Scoob. it’s getting really cramped in there. Is that, like, cool with you?”

“Ro ror it. I’m rot rearing rants.”

“Lucky dog.”

Shaggy unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, kicking off his khakis and leaving them on the floor. He revealed his spindly legs, and in between them, a pair of tidy whities struggling to contain him, a beaded stain at the top. He stretched the elastic up and over, taking the pair off completely and throwing them over his head onto a pizza box behind them. Finally free, his cock stood straight up like the Washington monument, except for the throbbing vein in the left side and the clear liquid dribbling out of the top. Scooby stared at it longingly, licking his lips again.

“See something you like, Scoob?”

“Reah. Ran I… ran I raste it?”

“I hoped you would, buddy.”

Scooby carefully, timidly approached his side, sniffing him first. His breath was warm and damp on Shaggy’s member, and it smelled like salt and vinegar after a day without showering. He lightly grazed the tip with his tongue, then began to relish it more and more. He worked his long, wide tongue around the whole length, taking Shaggy’s moans to mean that he enjoyed this a lot. Shaggy scratched the back of Scooby’s head as he licked, then opened his eyes and noticed something incredible.

As Scooby sucked on his shaft like a popsicle, Shaggy saw that the tip of Scooby’s cock was peeking out of its sheath, bobbing to the rhythm of the Dane’s head movements. The contrast between the beet red of his dick and the chocolate brown of his fur made it stand out, as did its tremendous size compared to his own. He reached out, his body acting on its own, and gently grabbed Scooby’s sheath at the base, feeling it pulse in his hand as it grew to the size of a grapefruit. He then slowly caressed it, moving his grip up and down the length, watching the sheath roll back to reveal a shiny, delicious looking hog.

“Oh… Raggy…”

“Like, wow, Scoob. You’re, like, huge.”

“Ranks.”

“Mind if I try it?”

“Mmm… rease…”

Shaggy had a reputation as a coward, but this was one monster he confronted fearlessly. While Scooby got back to enjoying his bone, Shaggy lay underneath him, turned the beast down toward his wide-open jaw, and took as much of it in as he could. He and Scooby had eaten so many different things together, a few of which no one else would even think of as food, so they were well prepared for feasting on each other. They started a rhythm between them, moving their necks back and forth like pigeons in the town square, building in intensity as they went. Their thoughts went through a cycle like the one their bodies now made, starting in raw pleasures of taste and sex and moving to more intimate, fond regards for each other. They’d always wanted the same things, and this new game of theirs was just another thing for them to enjoy.

Shaggy felt like a volcano about to erupt, and soon did, in milky white spurts all into the back of Scooby’s warm, wet throat. Not long after, he felt a couple massive throbs from Scooby’s cock, followed by an absolute flood of cum coming from it. Even with all his practice chugging milk, hot cocoa, and maple syrup, he couldn’t handle this much at once and sputtered trying to get it all down. The two of them kept their mouths on each other for a little longer, trying to get every last drop. At last, spent, the two of them separated and began to cuddle together on the couch, even closer now than they’d ever been.

“I rove rou, Raggy…”

“I love you too, Scooby Doo.”

With that, the two of them settled down and drifted off to sleep, Scooby lying with his back to Shaggy, nestled in his arms.

Two weeks later, a late-night phone call and a date over malted milkshakes threw a wedge between Shaggy and Scooby, a wedge by the name of Velma Dinkley. Intelligent though the girl was, she was also appallingly conventional and expected Shaggy to follow in her mundane footsteps. Their troubled relationship, and the secret betrayal of Scooby’s heart, coincided with a new relevance for Mystery Inc., and with it, their increasing interference in my affairs thanks to their shadowy benefactor, Mr. E. As the tension between the unknowing love triangle grew more overt and aggressive, it threatened to break up the gang, an outcome I could not abide before they had finished my work for me. The solution was a simple one, and would allow for testing of a pheromone compound I would need to use at a later stage. Thus, I could kill two birds with one stone, to use the odious metaphor.

One evening, after Shaggy had been given an ultimatum to choose between the woman and the dog, I broke into their home and spread the pheromone through his room, knowing that the two would return from their latest solved mystery in triumph, as was their weekly habit at this point. Sure enough, at nearly nine o’clock, the two stumbled in, a pair of gigantic sandwiches in hand and paw for their pre-midnight snack. Dispensing of the sandwiches in seconds, Shaggy started to prepare for bed, trying his best to ignore Scooby’s accusing looks.

“Raggy?”

“Yeah, Scoob?”

“Rou… rou rove re, right?”

“Of course, buddy. I’ve just, like, got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Rut… I rove rou.”

“I know, Scoob, but I can’t…”

“Ro… I really rove rou. A rot.”

The pupils of their eyes began to dilate as the pheromones took effect. Perfect. Scooby sidled over to Shaggy, desperate to prove how serious he was. He placed a giant paw on Shaggy’s thigh, pulled himself up to his scruffy, stubbly face, and planted his lips doggedly on Shaggy’s. Shaggy tried to resist, but the warmed of Scooby’s mouth and paws proved too much, and he returned the kiss, tenderly. When they broke their long-awaited kiss, and stared into each other’s eyes, seeing each other in the reflection, Shaggy had a moment of hesitation.

“I love you a lot too, Scoob. But Velma…”

“Shh… ro Relma. Rot ronight.”

The two locked lips again, getting erect and excited. This gave Scooby an idea about how to win Shaggy back. He briskly pushed himself off Shaggy, ran around the room in a blur, then faced away from him in what could innocently be described as a play bow, were it not for his prehensile tail very clearly pointing to his pulsing, puffy anus.

“Rake re, Raggy… Rease… I rant rou…”

Shaggy didn’t know what to think of this new side of Scooby Doo, panting heavily and offering himself on a silver platter. He also decided he didn’t care. He lowered himself off the bed, crawled on all fours to Scooby’s inviting backside, and stuck out his tongue in a lustful pant like his pup’s. When he reached Scooby, his tongue remained out, the better to lick Scooby with. His tongue spiraled around the outside, with the occasional foray into fur, then worked its way into the center. Scooby had cleaned himself thoroughly over the course of the day, a habit which caused Fred some frustration, and now all Shaggy could taste was him. All the better, he thought.

“Ron’t rop, Raggy… reep roing…”

As Shaggy lapped the ring, it began to loosen and soften while Scooby relaxed and enjoyed himself. Shaggy grabbed a bottle of olive oil off the dresser (perfect for early morning pasta cravings!) and dribbled some over his junk, all while attending to Scooby’s luscious, delicious derrière. As he prepared to go farther with Scooby than Velma had ever let him, he stopped licking and reassured himself.

“Like, you sure about this, Scoob?”

“Reah… I rust rou… I rove rou…”

Shaggy lined up the tip of his cock with Scooby’s warm, rosy bud. He was thrilled to be able to share this with his best pal, and scared of what would happen if Velma knew. But right now, all that mattered was how much Scooby needed him to be there. With that thought, he pushed inside, pressing against something at the end that felt right to him. Scooby pushed him even deeper, taking over while Shaggy took in his new pleasures with relish. This felt even better than that spot on his flank when Shaggy scratched it just right, and filled him more than three all you can eat buffets back to back. His knot began to grow, then to show, and he wondered if Shaggy would know.

“Whoa, Scoob, don’t let me have all the fun. Like, let me help you out.”

Shaggy then grabbed him by the knot and squeezed, using it as a handle to hold on to during his wild ride. Whatever pleasure Scoob had felt before was melted away in these new sensations, his senses flooded with love and contentment. He started to feel a pressure building up on both ends as Shaggy plunged into him.

“Oh, Raggy… I’m… I’m…”

His body started convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure, not to mention hot, creamy jism, started flowing through him and out of him. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Shaggy wasn’t far behind, pumping into Scooby and filling him so wholly that some of it began to dribble out behind him. Shaggy pulled out, slimy yet satisfied, and Scooby behaved like the dog he was and licked up the mess. Shaggy collapsed to the floor, spent, and Scooby took his bed for the night, hoping Shaggy would come up to share it the next morning.

That charming escapade, as well as some business with a mechanical hound which I may or may not have orchestrated, cinched the deal entirely: faced with the choice between an entirely average young woman of above average intelligence, and a descendant of the Annunaki, Shaggy could not help but stay with the latter, maintaining their friendship and with it the usefulness of Mystery Incorporated. With these missing pieces of the puzzle, it is my hope that a full account of Mystery Incorporated, past and present, might come to light. Though I have committed many wrongs, it is my hope that this last tale, my last confession, would set things right for the next generation of mystery solvers. Thus, ends the saga of Professor Pericles.