Scooby-Doo in Who is Fred?

Frederick Herman Jones, junior, was acting worse then Shaggy and Scooby combined. He was scared shitless, out of his mind, and was not acting brave at all. "Please, guys, we can't go in there," Fred protested. He was squirming in the grip of Shaggy's hand.

"Like come on, dude," Shaggy said. "Even me and Scooby aren't afraid of watching ghosts fight." Scooby nodded his head with his master's words.

And that's wat it sounded like. A bunch of 'ghosts' were fighting on the other side of the big, white, wooden doors. Shouts in different languages, different accents, and the sound of things being thrown around. Whatever people were in there, they obviously did not like each other. The group was standing on the other side, about to go in.

"Really, Fred," Daphne complained. "It isn't that bad. You aren't acting brave at all." She placed a dainty hand on his shoulder, slowly moving it to his neck and up into his blonde hair. She sighed. "Don't you want to protect me from the ghosts? If you really liked me, you would." Her hand moved down to his back. "Please, Fred? For me?"

Getting lost in her annoying voice, Fred barely had time to register the hand on his back pushing him roughly through the doors that Velma had opened. The noise on the other side of the door going completely silent, but the people in it… well, they were still visible.

Damnit, he thought.


"Fred! We've got a request to check something out," Velma hollered at him. It was the fifth time she had said it to him and it seemed that this was the first time he had paid attention. "Stop playing Modern Warfare three and get your lazy ass over here to consult."

Fred pouted. "B-But it's neeeew~! I dunnwanna~!"

"FRED!"

The man sighed, got up, paused the game (oh, his beautiful game), and walked over to the gang. "What," he asked irked.

"Like, we have a mystery, man," Shaggy announced.

Velma nodded. "In New York City, they have this one conference hall and they claim it's haunted. They hear fights coming from it once a month, shouts, yells, different languages, but when they open the doors, nothing's there. It just all vanishes, until they recluse them. It starts back up, then."

"Any suspects," Daphne asked.

"Well," the glasses-girl starts, "There's this man who wants to demolish the property. He could be the reason." They all nodded - that was a valid reason, right?

Damn, Fred thought. Why must it be that? "G-Guys, I think we should drop it," he said.

They all looked at him. "R'hy," Scooby asked.

"W-Why," Fred asked, uncertain. "Because it seems useless. If the guy wants to demolish the property, let him." This characteristic was very unlike the ascot loving man.

Without even thinking of the other's words, the four dead-panned to Fred, "We're going."

"No," he said firmly.

"Yes."

"No," Fred groaned.

"Yes."

"No," the detective complained.


"We're here," Daphne announced. "Isn't New York City just wonderful, Fred?"

Fred shook his head. "We aren't going to New York," he muttered.

"Dude," Shaggy said, "We're, like, already here!"

"We're not. We're not going." Fred shook his head again and again.

"I think he's in denial," Velma put in helpfully. "He must really didn't like coming." They all stared at the fifth member of their gang, who was in the back of the van, sitting in a fetal position, mumbling to himself how heroes didn't go to New York. Which, of course, wasn't true. And who knew Fred had a hero complex?

Next thing he knew, Fred was being pulled out of the van. "Come on, Fred. We're here!"

Oh crap,he thought, we're in NewYork. In front of the building. We're entering the building. Not good. Oh crap, oh shit, damnit. "G-Guys, we really shouldn't be here," Fred protested.

No one bore to look back at Fred as the tugged at his hands and practically dragged him to the doors. "Please, guys, let's go!" He tried to desperately pull them away.

Frederick Herman Jones, junior, was acting worse then Shaggy and Scooby combined. He was scared shitless, out of his mind, and was not acting brave at all. "Please, guys, we can't go in there," Fred protested. He was squirming in the grip of Shaggy's hand.

"Like come on, dude," Shaggy said. "Even me and Scooby aren't afraid of watching ghosts fight." Scooby nodded his head with his master's words.

And that's wat it sounded like. A bunch of 'ghosts' were fighting on the other side of the big, white, wooden doors. Shouts in different languages, different accents, and the sound of things being thrown around. Whatever people were in there, they obviously did not like each other. The group was standing on the other side, about to go in.

"Really, Fred," Daphne complained. "It isn't that bad. You aren't acting brave at all." She placed a dainty hand on his shoulder, slowly moving it to his neck and up into his blonde hair. She sighed. "Don't you want to protect me from the ghosts? If you really liked me, you would." Her hand moved down to his back. "Please, Fred? For me?"

Getting lost in her annoying voice, Fred barely had time to register the hand on his back pushing him roughly through the doors that Velma had opened. The noise on the other side of the door going completely silent, but the people in it… well, they were still visible.

Damnit, he thought.

Fred slowly straightened from his awkward position from when he had stumbled in and looked at the crowd. There were many people from different ethnic backgrounds and a lot of them were in compromising positions. Some looked like they had been trying to throw something, but dropped their arms; others looked like they had been running somewhere. One looked German, and boy was he scary and infuriated. And then, you know, there were those two that had been groping people.

An Asian, possibly Japanese, with dull brown eyes stomped over to Fred, blushing. Fred knew exactly who this man was.

A resounding smack! resonated through the air. A bright red, hand-shape mark appeared on Fred's face.

"I deserved that," Fred murmured, more to himself than anybody else.

"Damn well, you did," the Asian yelled, who burst into tears the second the last word left his mouth.

Fred's face instantaneously fell. He reached out a hand to comfort, but drew it back. "I-I'm sorry. You know I am."

"Then why did you leave?"

The blonde hesitated. "I couldn't handle not being a true hero anymore."

In a small voice, barely audible, the Asian replied, "But you're my hīrō."

Of course, something ruined this nice mood. "You bloody frog, stop touching me! Don't touch me there!"

Fred looked up annoyed. "France, you ruined a perfectly good mood."

"Oh, desole, l'Amerique~, I just couldn't keep my hands off England's perfectly sculpted ass."

A blush formed on the rest of the gang's face. These people are homos, was the thought that ran through all of their minds. E-Even Fred! And Fredknows them? How did that happen? Velma got the nerve to tap on her friend's shoulder. "F-Fred?"

Fred looked back at the gang, but before he could answer, the German started yelling. "GET THEM OUT! You irresponsible Schwachkopf! You brought humans here, America." Fred flinched at the name.

The heard a click of a gun and turned to see a Swiss with a gun. "You need a shot." With that, he shot the American in the head. Perfect aim, if you looked closely.

"Fred!" Daphne yelled, and saw the Asian who had slapped her honey-bun just looked bored and a bit irritated. In fact, all the people in the room except for the gang looked unfazed.

They soon got their answer on why. "Still have perfect aim, dontcha, Switzerland," Fred asked. He brought his hand up to his wound, pushed a finger in and found the bullet. Pulling it out, the American examined it. "Nice bullet." Tossing it to the side, Fred stood back up, blood still on his face, but no source.

Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby-Doo just stood there, horrified. That was real paranormal activity right there. Fred turned towards them. "Guys, I'm afraid you'll have to leave." He pushed them out the doors, closed them, and heard all four barfing on the other side. He smirked. Maybe I'll let them keep the memory, he thought happily before asking the other people, "So, what'd I miss?" He only got blank stares.

"Alfred F. Jones," England growled. "What in the name of the Devil do you think you're doing?"

"What," Alfred asked innocently. "I told them that we shouldn't have come."

"Not what I meant, you git! Where have you been?"

America was about to answer when Japan latched onto him. "Please don't leave me again."

Alfred smiled. "I won't," he replied, giving his lover a chaste kiss.