Welcome to the DPL...

Welcome to the Damsel Preservation League or "DPL" for short. Contained herein, you'll find a multitude of damsels of all ages worthy of preservation, as well as many links to current artists & writers of the DID genre, and many old-school favourites. Although this is basically a research type blog, there may be some occasional "mature" themed comics so, beware of this. Also this blog & is moderated to keep the spam to a minimum. The majority of the images are ones I've personally "rebuilt" from either my own collection or scans found elsewhere on the 'net. Any applicable copyrights belong to the owners and I make no money from them. Also note that this blog is still a work in progress and will be added to as I continue along...

Friday, October 12, 2018

The Last Address Pt.2

The Last Address Pt.2 (conclusion)

 Shaggy picked up the receiver on his land-line ‘phone on the second ring. It was 18.30. The caller I.D. told him it was Mrs. Caldwell from the Boys and Girls club. He’d been home most of the day as Fruitmeir didn’t have any new products for “testing”. No matter, as it gave him time to work out more of the bugs in the new mapping programme. “Like, what’s up Mrs. C?” he answered as he leaned back in his beat-up old office chair.

 “Shaggy, have you heard from Daphne or her friend...um...Velma?” inquired Mrs. Caldwell. “They haven’t returned from picking up party donations and I can’t reach either of them on their mobiles!” She sounded a bit frantic.

 “Like, no Mrs. C.,” Shaggy returned. “It’s only 18.31 (as he glanced at the clock on his monitor screen). Why? Were they, like, supposed to be back by now?”

 “That’s just it!” exclaimed the frantic Mrs. Caldwell. “Daphne told me they were sure to be done by 16.00. I figured an extra hour for an early Friday rush-hour so, that would put it at 17.00. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of worried.”

 “Well, like, did you call Mrs. Blake,” began Shaggy, “or Mrs. Dinkley? Maybe they, like, went home to change out of their costumes?” Daphne had told Shaggy of her idea to go collecting in costume, on Thursday. He’d thought it a cool plan and had hoped to get a glimpse of Velma in costume. He missed her...a lot. But the bugs in his new programme had kept him from doing so.

 “I did call both parents,” continued Mrs. Caldwell, “but they’ve haven’t see either girl since they left this morning,” she lamented.

 Shaggy thought a moment, then added, “Like, maybe I can track the ‘phone signals or, like, better yet, the van’s GPS if it has one.” Shaggy had volunteered to clean the vans up for club usage, previously. But he had failed to notice if the vans had GPS systems.

 “Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Caldwell. “I’m afraid they don’t have those GP-whatchamacallits! But I remember my nephew saying something about a tracking device, in case they ever got stolen. I’ll give him a ring and call you right back!”

 “Like, no problem Mrs. C.,” said Shaggy. “I’ll, like, try to get the girls’ ‘phone signals then.” And he rang off. Turning to his 40 inch computer monitor, Shaggy started tapping various icons on the screen with his left index finger. Soon, he was into the tracking programme. He input Velma’s mobile number. After four rings, the line went dead...the signal lost. Not one to be deterred by a problem such as this, Shaggy tapped a few more icons and brought up a different programme. “Like, let’s see where you are, Velma,” he muttered to himself.

 The figure had returned upstairs after trussing up Daphne and Velma in an unused part of the cellar. The fall had knocked both girls out but...chloroform had been administered to their unconscious forms as an added precaution. Just as the unknown assailant crossed into the front hall, a mobile could be heard ringing. Quickly racing toward the sound of the ring-tone, the figure found Velma’s mobile, there on the floor where she had dropped it. With a sadistic looking smile, the figure stomped on the device with a heavy, black, steel-toed, combat boot...ending the call and signal. “Try tracing it now!” retorted a high-pitched but gravelly male voice. He then picked up the pieces of the phone and placed them in a small plastic bag he had pulled from his box of “gear”. The young man had been on his way back out to his old van, when Velma’s mobile had rung. The young man smiled, a bit sardonically, as he placed Velma’s mobile in the box. Checking his watch on his left wrist, he noted the time: 18.37. He continued on into the garage, opened up the left door then got into his old van. Backing the van out of the garage, he then turned into the street. Once in “drive” mode, he headed right toward town. “I’ll just go get a little something to eat,” he thought aloud. “Plenty of time to finish up.”

 Mrs. Caldwell had finally gotten ahold of her nephew, Jake, via her mobile, and informed him of the possible missing blue van. Jake immediately engaged the tracking device on it, via his office computer. “Auntie dear,” he said, “did you call the police, yet?”

 “No, not yet,” said Mrs. Caldwell. “I’m not really sure if the van is missing or not, just that no-one’s heard from either girl in the past few hours. The whole thing has me a bit un-nerved!” she exclaimed further.

 “Well, the signal is working, so the police should be able to find it,” said Jake. “Don’t go getting yourself all in a tizzy, you’ll wreck your blood pressure.”

 “You mean, you can’t track where the van is?” inquired Mrs. Caldwell.

 “Afraid not,” said her nephew. “It’s linked into the police data-base though, as well as the insurance company’s computer. I just activate the homing device when one goes missing. And it wouldn’t be the first time, either. Don’t worry, it’ll get found.”

 “I’m more worried about the girls!” she cried.

 “Look, I’ll ring the police,” said Jake. “I’ll have them come over to the club. You’re still there, right?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Caldwell somewhat calmer. “I’m here and I’ll stay here until the girls are back, safe and sound!” and she rang off. Then, remembering that Shaggy was into computers, Mrs. Caldwell then looked up her last call to him and hit the "call back" icon on her mobile. Shaggy picked up on the second ring. “Hello, Shaggy,” began Mrs. Caldwell, “can you track a homing device?”

 “Like, hey Mrs. C,” said Shaggy. “Shouldn’t be a problem, I just, like, need to know what system it is and an access code.”

 “Ooh I don’t know!” cried Mrs. Caldwell. “My nephew does, though. He just activated the...what’d he call it? Oh yes, the ‘homing signal thingy’. I can give you his number to call. He can explain it to you better than I can.”

 “Like, not a a problem, Mrs.C.,” and Shaggy took down the number, promising to call right away. It was now 18.55. It had grown dark in the late autumn sky. The wind had picked up a little but it was still quite warm.

 “Uuuunnnnn!” groaned Daphne as she slowly awoke. Slowly shaking her head in an attempt to clear the throbbing pain from her head hitting the floor and effects of the chloroform, she did not at first realise where she was. Licking her dry lips, she carefully opened her eyes...only to quickly shut them again...unbelieving at first. Her arms ached and she could feel the ropes around her ankles and lower thighs. More ropes were cutting into her wrists. Daphne opened her eyes again, taking in what she could in the dim light from a single, bare, forty-watt light-bulb. She found that she was in was a large, windowless room. It was damp and chilly and smelled of mildew and age. Packed earth served as a floor and what looked like old, field-stone walls, were sporadically covered in dead moss. What looked like a large cabinet, sat in front of her. It’s low top a sort of prep area. Daphne shuddered. When she turned her head to the left, she let out a gasp. There was Velma, right next to her. She was still unconscious. Her ankles were tightly tied and her arms tied above, like her own. And her glasses were missing. As Daphne looked up, she now realised and could see that their wrists were tied around some sort of hook that hung down from a beam in the ceiling. Velma’s hung a bit lower, given her shorter height. Both girls were suspended in such a way, that their toes were just barely touching the floor. Daphne shivered again but, this time more from fright than the chilly air.

 But the real shock wasn’t that they were both tied up; they’d been in similar predicaments many times before. The real shock was, that Velma’s wings were missing from her costume! Even worse, as Daphne quickly realised, her own costume had been removed from her person! She was left only wearing her lilac satin slip and under-garments. Who would do such a thing...and why? Even her shoes were missing. And why were her thighs tied and not Velma’s? Then it hit her...of course. Who-ever did this had to have some knowledge of her martial-arts and dangerous leg moves. But who? Daphne was close enough to nudge Velma and did so. Velma stirred a bit. Daphne became worried, especially after seeing the bruise that had forming on Velma’s right temple. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t bleeding. She nudged Velma a second time. No response. This wasn’t good.

 Daphne now wondered what time it was...how long had she been out? The last thing she remembered, was picking up that envelope from the hall table...and then the floor had disappeared! She recalled falling through the darkness and calling for Velma...then everything had gone black. She could still feel the pain in the back of her head where it had hit (just where her head hit, Daphne was still unsure of), and smell and taste traces of the chloroform in her mouth and nose. That was the odd part. She didn’t recall anyone grabbing her after she had fallen. She was pretty sure she had banged her head into something so, why the chloroform? To keep her out longer? Probably. It was all just too weird...

Shaggy had gotten ahold of Jake and he had explained to him the homing device. By now, the police had sent units to the the Boys and Girls club as well as the rental agency. Jake welcomed Shaggy to join him there, especially if he could be of any help in finding the van (and hopefully the girls), faster. Shag had readily agreed. Packing up his lap-top (which had the tracking programmed pre-loaded), he and Scooby had gotten into the Mystery Machine and sped out towards the marina area where the rental company was. Once inside the rental office, it hadn’t taking long for Shaggy to connect the homing programme with the programme in his laptop. Scooby had opted to stay in the van and hopefully get in a nap. Naturally.

 “You can find this faster, huh?” questioned Jake.

 “Like, should be no problem,” returned Shaggy. “I can, like, pinpoint a target to within, like, half a metre,” then whispering to Jake with a slight grin on his face, “Like, the police can only track to, like, a general area. This baby can, like, almost get me in the driver’s seat!”

 Jake grinned, said, “If this works, I may want to hire you to upgrade all my systems!”

 “Like, man that’d be no problem!” exclaimed Shaggy with a grin of his own. Within five minutes, Shaggy had a location. Relaying the info to the police sergeant in charge, he then brought up a map of that section of the city where the signal was emanating from.

 “Are you positive?” questioned the sergeant. “Hardly anyone lives in that area of town, anymore.”

“Like, that’s the place, give or take a couple of metres,” said Shaggy.

 The sergeant re-checked the map overlay and called in to CHQ (Command Head-Quarters), to verify the location’s address. Turning back to Shaggy and Jake, he said, “The address comes back as ’13 Parksdale Drive’. I think that’s one of the old Wyatt homes; used to be a butcher shop, round turn of the century, as I recall.”

 “A butcher shop?!?” inquired Shaggy and Jake in unison.

 “Oh yeah, sure,” said the sergeant. “That whole section of town was the old main street area about a hundred years ago. Weren’t any mega-stores back then, y’know. So, most businesses were run out of the home; usually the first floor or cellar. This home here (he indicated toward the map with his right fore-finger) probably had a shop above and stored the meats in the cool cellars. Might’ve even had a small smoke-house, out back.”

"Like, wow!” exclaimed Shaggy as he thought of having his own smoke-house, filled with meats of all kinds. But he quickly shifted back to the problem at hand. The name, Wyatt, seemed familiar but he couldn’t pin it down in his thoughts. “So, like, you can send out a cruiser to, like, check things out?” Shaggy asked the sergeant.

 “At the moment...no, unfortunately,” said the police sergeant. “All our cruisers are tied up with extra duty. It’d be me and a couple other officers, basically...unless...?”

 “You, like, don’t have to ask me twice!” exclaimed Shaggy as he packed up his lap-top and headed out to the Mystery Machine. The sergeant appointed a patrolman to ride along with Shaggy and he’d follow in the cruiser, along with another patrolman. Jake stayed behind with a third police officer and told Shaggy he’d give his auntie a call to report their progress. By now Mrs. Caldwell was completely frantic with worry. It was now 19.15. Even with no traffic, it would take at least ten minutes to cover the distance from the marina to Parksdale Drive. “You probably know the area better than me,” said the sergeant. “So take the lead and don’t worry about any speeding tickets,” he winked. “I’ll be right behind you. I just hope we’re not running into a serious situation.” Little did any of them know just what kind of a situation was...developing.

 Daphne had tried, unsuccessfully, to pull herself up and off of the hook. The curve of the big hook was just too long and too high. Catching her breath in the damp chill of the cellar (which she had surmised it was, earlier), she suddenly froze as she heard footsteps above...walking across the floor. Soon, a door could be heard faintly creaking open. More footsteps on a set of stairs...now getting louder...closer...Velma let out a groan, which prompted Daphne to nudge her again. “Velma!” she hissed in a whisper. “Velma...wake up! Pleeeease wake up!” Again Velma groaned. Daphne saw her eyelids flutter as the footsteps were now at the door of their make-shift prison. As Velma shook the cobwebs from her mind, Daphne noticed the foot steps had stopped. She looked on in terror as the door was pulled open...

SCRRREEEEEEEECH!! went the tyres on the Mystery Machine as Shaggy took a hard right onto Larkspur Lane, almost rolling the van over. “Whoa!” exclaimed the patrol officer. “The Sarge said you could get there as fast as you could, but I’d like to arrive in one piece!”

"Reah, Raggy!” exclaimed Scooby. “Run reese!”

 “Like, okay, okay,” returned Shaggy. “It’s just that, like, I finally remembered that name...I mean, like, the name ‘Wyatt’. Like, Scoob, remember that robot version of yourself, like, from a couple of years back?”

 “Reah! Robot!” cried Scooby. “Re restroyed rit!”

 “Hey yeah,” said the patrolman. “I remember that case too. I was just starting out at the sheriff’s department. What a way to break in a rookie like I was, then!”

 “Like, that’s just it!” exclaimed Shaggy. “Mrs. Wyatt was, like, arrested and sent to that insane asylum for, like, criminals. And, like, her son Jason vowed revenge, from what, like, Velma had told me later.”

“But the Sheriff and F.B.I. seized her house and belongings as I recall,” said the patrolman. “Everything was auctioned off to help pay for all the damages, she and her son had caused. I think her son went to live with relatives over in Diamond Bay. I’ve since, never seen nor heard from him, in all that time.”

 “Like, I got a bad feeling!” exclaimed Shaggy as he careened around another corner.

 "Ruh-roh!” said Scooby.

 “Hello, girls,” said their young captor. Velma couldn’t see who it was without her glasses but, something about his high-pitched and grating voice, jogged her memory. “I trust you’re comfy?” he asked a bit sarcastically as he set a large box on the floor...a corner of Daphne’s costume could be seen sticking out.

 “WHO ARE YOU?” Daphne spat out. “What do you want with us? And where is my costume, you...you PERV, you!”

 The man feigned astonishment. He was just slightly taller than Velma and looked to be about her age. Light-brown hair and dark-brown eyes blended in with his chiseled facial features. A muscular build but not too thin. He wore black, leather, combat boots, faded blue-jeans and a tattered, dark-green t-shirt. He wore no hat or glasses. Not too bad looking actually, Daphne had thought at first. She quickly rejected the thought. “You mean...you...you don’t recognise me?” asked the man. “Not even...a little bit?”

 “NO!” yelled Daphne. “Why? Should I?”

 “He sounds very...familiar,” said Velma. “I can’t see him without my glasses, though.”

 “Oh, sorry about that!” exclaimed the man and he reached into the box and pulled Velma’s glasses out. He then carefully placed them upon her face and stood back a pace. “How’s that?” he asked.

 “Better, of course,” retorted Velma as she looked at her captor. She had no clew who this was, other than that voice. Where had she heard that voice before? She shook her head.

 “Then...you...really don’t...recognise me?” said the man somewhat hurt. “Well then...maybe you’ll recognise the name of...‘Wyatt’?” A light-bulb suddenly went off in Velma’s head. Daphne still had not made the connection. “No! It couldn’t be!” thought Velma to herself.

 “Wyatt...Jason...Jason Wyatt,” said Velma.

“Jason...who?” asked a shivering Daphne. “Who’s he?”

 “Yeah Velma...who am I?” inquired Jason gloatingly.

 “But you can’t be!” exclaimed Velma. “I thought you moved away after police arrested your mother and sold the house!” Daphne was confused at first but then started to recall the night of the fake Scooby robot attacks. Soon, it all became clear...sort of. “And your lisp...you don’t have your lisp.”

 “Oh, I did move,” started Jason. "After the trial, I went to live with my aunt Gertrude, my mother’s sister, over in Diamond Bay. And like I told you after the trial, I’d get my revenge and finish what my mother started! It’s taken me almost two years of planning. Two years of re-inventing myself. No more stupid retainer in my mouth! No more glasses; I wear contact lenses now. And no more damn lisp! I had an operation that corrected that problem. I lost weight and got into shape, changed my entire image. Then...I learned of this old house,” he said as he spread his arms out, indicating their present whereabouts. “My grandfather had owned it and it passed down to my aunt when he died a few years ago. She told me about it but had sold it to the city. She got a good price for it and the money went into a trust account for me. I got that when I turned eighteen. The city’ll eventually tear this house down, just like it’s done with the rest of the old neighbourhood. But I’m gonna save the town and taxpayers the cost of wrecking at least one house,” said Jason with an evil-looking grin.

 “Wh-what are you going to do with us?!?” cried Daphne, now very nervous. Jason just ignored her.

 “Jason...you need help,” started Velma. “Just let us go...we can get you help.”

 “HA! In about five minutes, you’ll be the ones who’ll need help,” retorted Jason. He opened the large box all the way. Daphne and Velma could see the contents, now. Daphne’s costume, Velma’s wings for her Tinkerbell costume, what looked like some strips of a torn bed-sheet and, a few pieces of rope, much like the rope currently binding them. But it was the last item that sent chills racing up and down both girls’ spines...

 “How much farther?” asked the patrolman as Shaggy made a left onto Cherry Street.

 “Like, almost there!” exclaimed Shaggy. “Like, just a couple more minutes,” he said as he sent the Mystery Machine racing down the street, almost hitting a pedestrian. “Whoa!” said Shaggy as he brought the van to a screeching a halt, just missing a young girl by inches. The cruiser following, quickly stopped and the sergeant got out and came forward. The child had froze in place, in the middle of the street, terror-stricken at almost being run over. Shaggy and the patrolman got out of the van. “Like, I swear she came out of nowhere!” exclaimed Shaggy.

 “I saw her at the last second,” said the patrolman. “Good reaction time on those brakes!” he told Shaggy. The girl’s mother had come out when she heard tyres screeching, to find her daughter frozen to the spot in the street. Apparently, the little girl and her friends were playing “tag”. Dressed in darker clothing and not paying attention to the traffic, the girl had darted out into the street to avoid being tagged. It took a few minutes to straighten everything out, before the police, Shag and Scooby were able to continue on. Everyone climbed back into their vehicles and set out again but...at a somewhat slower speed.

 Jason placed the bomb on the top of the cabinet, which was directly in front of the girls. A simple timer wired up to a relay-switch, which was attached to ten sticks of dynamite, held together with black electrical tape. He made sure the timer faced away from the girls (“Why let them know exactly when the inevitable was coming?” he had thought). He then reached back into the box and grabbed a handful of the cloth strips with his right hand and, placed all but a couple of them next to the bomb. “This is gonna be great!” he exclaimed as he moved towards Daphne...two cloth strips dangling from his fingers.

 “You can’t do this!” cried Daphne. “Stop this Jason! Now! Stop! You don’t know what you----uuunnnfff!” cried Daphne as Jason wadded up a big piece of the cloth and stuffed it deep into her mouth. Shaking her head while trying to dislodge the gag, Jason got behind her, and pulled on her hair with his left hand. “Oooowwwwmmm!” cried Daphne as Jason whipped another strip over her head. He pulled the second cloth strip tightly between her lips and then teeth as he tied it off behind her head. The tight top-gag forcing the packing towards the back of her throat. It was all Daphne could do to keep from choking on the gag. Jason then went back to the cabinet and got two more cloth strips for Velma as Daphne tried, in vain, to struggle free.

 “Jason, you won’t get away with this,” said Velma, as she calmly tried to plead with him.

 “Oh won’t I?” said Jason. “No-one knows where you are. Your van is hidden in the garage. And you forget...hardly anyone lives here anymore. The police won’t even bat an eye when this place goes up. Whoops! Almost forgot,” he said as he pulled a digi-cam out of the box. “Gotta get some pictures to remember this moment. I’ll add them in with my other ‘trophies’,” he said with an evil grin.

“What...what other...trophies?” inquired Velma, somewhat perplexed...hoping to stall for time. Of course, she was totally unaware that help was already on the way.

 “Why, these trophies,” explained Jason as he waved his right hand toward the box. “I wanted something from each of you as a memento of my revenge. Once I take care of all of you, I can give my trophies to mother! Won’t she be proud of me! Her only child able to finish what she had started!”

“Jason, you’re a sick man,” said Velma. “If you think you ca----uummmphn!” said Velma as Jason shoved a wad of cloth in her mouth.

 “Enough talk!” yelled Jason. He finished by tying another, wide piece of cloth over Velma’s mouth...tightly...holding the packing in. He then picked up his digi-cam and took several pictures of his prisoners. His mother would love seeing the look on their faces as they struggled in despair. Checking the viewer and satisfied with the results, Jason walked over to the bomb and set the timer for five minutes. “Have a happy Halloween, girls,” said Jason as he went to leave. “And don’t take any candy from strangers!” He laughed as he shut the door, leaving the light on. Daphne and Velma continued to struggle but it was no use...they just couldn’t get free. Jason’s footsteps had receded. Now, the only thing that could be heard...was the beeping of the timer as it counted down the remaining minutes and seconds...04:27..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 As Jason went to open the garage door, a small, flashing red light from the lower dashboard of the mini-van, caught his eye. “Oh crap!” yelled Jason as he now realised the van had a tracking device. With no time to disable it, he finished opening the garage door and got into his own van. He went to start the engine and froze. The engine wouldn’t turn over...

 ...03:35..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 Shaggy finally made it to Wylock Street, the next street down from Parksdale Drive. He sped down the block and turned left onto Parksdale...

 ...03:15..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 Panic filled Jason as he banged his head into the steering-wheel. Suddenly, the engine came to life. Jason had remembered to back the van in this time to allow for a fast escape, if need be. He put the van in “drive” and was in such a rush to get out of the garage and away from the old house, that he didn’t hear the approaching vehicles. As Jason gunned the van down the driveway, Shaggy swerved to miss him, as he ploughed into the street. Jason’s van just caught the right rear edge of the Mystery Machine as the two vehicles collided. The cruiser, sirens blaring, swerved to the right. The fish-tailing causing the left rear of the cruiser, to slam into the driver’s side of the old van. The front of the cruiser coming to rest on the side-walk...

 ...02:27..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 Shaggy, Scooby and the three officers quickly alit from their vehicles and surrounded the van, with one of the officers opening the van’s passenger door...his service automatic drawn. “Slowly get out of the van,” said the officer to Jason, in a calm but grim voice. Shaggy went to look in the garage. Finding the rental van, he went back over to where Jason’s was. A dazed and panicky Jason, realising he’d been caught, pleaded with the police. “Let me go! We gotta get away from here!”

 “Like, where’s Velma and Daphne?” demanded Shaggy. “And, like, who are you?”

...01:57..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 “There’s not enough time left!” yelled Jason. “We have to get far away!

 Shaggy climbed up on the front of the wrecked cruiser and reached in through the driver’s-side door window of the van. Grabbing Jason by the front his t-shirt he said, with menace in his voice, “Where...are...Velma...and...Daphne?”

 ...01:48..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 “D-d-don’t hurt m-me!” cried Jason.

“Where...are...they?” repeated Shaggy through clenched teeth.

 “Th-They’re in the basement! They're in the basement! B-But you’re too late!” screamed Jason. “There’s a bomb set to go off in less than two minutes!” Isn’t it amazing how one can keep track of something like that, despite what’s going on?

 “Oh hell!” exclaimed one of the officers and got on the radio to CHQ for the bomb-squad. “It’s just a good thing we don’t have to evacuate the area!”

 ...01:21..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 In a flash, Shaggy and the officer that had ridden with him, dashed into the open garage. Not knowing the layout of the house (and the fact most of the lights no longer worked), the two made their way toward the entrance door to the main house. The officer had a torch in his left hand that lighted the way...his service revolver in his right...

 “NO!” screamed Jason, again. “You’ll never make it!” he bellowed as he was pulled from the van via the passenger’s side, cuffed and placed in the back of the wrecked cruiser. One of the officers read him his rights as Jason continued screaming...

 ...01:07..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 Entering the kitchen, the two looked round for a door...any door. Scooby had followed them in. He soon caught Velma’s then Daphne’s scent as the trio by-passed the kitchen and entered the front hall. Suddenly Scooby’s acute hearing picked up faint noises. “Like, what is it Scoob old pal?” inquired Shaggy.

 “Relma! Rafne!” said Scooby excitedly. “Rown rere!”

"Huh?” said the officer.

 “Scooby says the girls are down there,” said Shaggy pointing to where the trap door was. As Scooby turned round he noticed a door just off the kitchen...and instantly went into “pointer” mode. Looking at where Scooby was “pointing”, Shaggy exclaimed, “Through that door!”

 ...00:44..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 Shaggy pulled open the door and took the lead down the dark stairs, two at a time...the officer's torch lighting the steps ahead of him...

 ...00:39..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 As the officer shined his torch in the inky darkness of the cellar, Shaggy called out to Velma and Daphne. Scooby heard their muffled cries, first. “Rin rere!” said Scooby as he stopped in front of a door just to the right. A dim light could be seen through the space under the door...

 ...00:29..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 Luckily, Jason had not locked the door. Shaggy opened it to the excited relief of Daphne and Velma. Both still frantic and struggling.

 “Nuuhmma mmommm!” cried Daphne through her gag, as she nodded her head toward the cabinet. Shaggy caught the nod and looked over at the cabinet, immediately spying the bomb.

 “Let me have a look at it, son,” said the officer. “I know a little bit about bombs of this sort.”

...00:21..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 “Like, man, I hope you know what you’re doin’!” exclaimed Shaggy as he bent to untied Velma’s ankles; his, now shaking fingers, fumbled with the knots on Velma’s bindings...

 ...00:17..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 The officer patiently went over the bomb with his torch for added light. It did not take him long to see the simplicity of the device. “Here goes nothing!” he exclaimed.

 “Like, nothing is right!” exclaimed Shaggy as he finished untying Velma’s ankles. “Like, we’ll all be nothing if you’re, like, wrong, man!”

 ...00:11..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 The officer carefully pulled the wire from the front of the relay switch, breaking the circuit. The timer stopped...

 ...00:05..."BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

 All five of them heaved a collective sigh. Scooby ran back upstairs, while Shaggy and the officer finished untying and ungagging Daphne and Velma. “Ooh, my aching arms!” exclaimed Daphne as she spat out her gag. Tears began streaming down her face. “Shaggy! I can’t believe you found us!” she exclaimed as she gave him a grateful hug.

“Like, it was no problem,” said Shaggy. “Like, I’ll explain it all later,” he added as he next embraced Velma. The officer smiled as the foursome headed out of the cellar and back up the stairs. The officer soon returned with the bomb-squad (which had been called in while he and Shaggy were searching for the girls), to show them where the bomb was located. By now there were two more cruisers as well as an ambulance and the bomb disposal truck, parked in front of the house. As Shaggy, Velma and Daphne walked towards the damaged Mystery Machine, they could hear Jason howling threats from the back of the cruiser, still vowing revenge.

 “Like, who is that guy?” Shaggy asked the girls.

 “Jason Wyatt,” said Velma flatly. “You remember him, don’t you?”

 “Like...yeah,” said Shaggy, after a moment of thought. “Oh boy.”


 Jason Wyatt had a complete mental break-down and was put under observation at the city’s asylum for the criminally insane for a period of two weeks. After-which, it was determined he was too insane to stand trial. He now permanently resides in said asylum, under a twenty-four hour suicide watch...on the next floor up, directly over his mother’s cell. Ironic? Perhaps.

 Daphne and Velma recovered in time for the charity Halloween party. The Sheriff was kind enough to let them have their costume and wings back. He also released the van with all the supplies the girls had gathered, just in time to set up for the party.

 Shaggy spent a week upgrading Jake’s computer system...for a small fee, of course. Jake could now track his rental vehicles anywhere, any-time. He hasn’t had a theft in months.

 Shaggy, Scooby and Officer Lonnie Duggan (the officer that rode along with Shaggy and dis-armed the bomb), all were awarded the city’s “Medal for Heroism” for their actions in finding the girls and defusing the bomb. Officer Duggan has since transferred to the bomb-squad. Mrs. Caldwell continues to run the Boys and Girls club. She has vowed, that beginning with the upcoming Christmas party, she will require all donations to be brought in by the donours, themselves.

 Das Ende

The Last Address Pt.1

Here's another story I originally wrote back in 1997. I drew only two illustrations for this tale, which were posted to one of my defunct DeviantART accounts, back in 2014. And, although  have re-re-edited this tale, once again, I've not drawn anymore illos for it. Most of my Scooby-Doo fanfic is  envisioned with Daphne and most of the rest of the gang. Though here, the main players are Daphne, Velma and Norville (a.k.a. Shaggy.)

The story in short: The gang has since been out of high school and are spending the summer and fall working odd jobs as they wait to enter into a college life. The story centres round Halloween time and is worked into a revenge-style tale, based on other characters from SDMI. Here's Part 1...

The Last Address Pt. 1

 Knocking on the front door of the Dinkley residence with her right hand, Daphne was anxious to see how Velma’s costume looked. It was tough enough to get Velma to agree to go to the Charity Halloween Party, to act as a hostess. Even tougher to get her to go dressed as a cartoon character. Mrs. Dinkley opened the door. “Why hello Daphne, dear,” she said. “Or should I call you ‘Snow White’?”

“‘Tis ‘Snow Blake’,” said a giggling Daphne in a very fake English accent. “How are you, Mrs. Dinkley?” she asked as she entered the front hall.

 “Oh I’m just fine! Never better!” exclaimed Mrs. Dinkley. “Thanks so much for asking, dear,” she smiled. “Velma’s upstairs in her room. I think she could do with a bit of help,” she said winking her left eye.

 “I...do...not...need...help!” came a cry from the head of the stairs, as Velma started down. She had a yellow blanket wrapped round her body. Part of her costume was visible above the back of her head.

“Oh, let us have a look at you, dear,” said Mrs. Dinkley.

 “Mother, please!” whined Velma.

 “Velma you promised me,” said Daphne. “C’mon...”

 Heaving a deep sigh, Velma relented and carefully unwrapped herself from the blanket.

 “OH!” exclaimed Daphne and Mrs. Dinkley in unison.

 “You look great!” exclaimed Daphne

 “I look ridiculous,” retorted Velma.

 “Honey, you look just wonderful!” exclaimed Mrs. Dinkley.

 “I feel silly,” shot back Velma. “Besides, Tinkerbell doesn’t wear glasses!”

 “Oh, don’t be so critical,” said Daphne. “Most of the kids already know you and won’t mind at all!” Daphne was referring to the kids at the local homeless shelter. Her mother had agreed to sponsor a Halloween party for them. Which meant Daphne would end up playing party hostess. And she wasn’t doing it alone, if she could help it. She didn’t mind volunteering for events like this but sometimes, a little extra help came in handy. The kids could get a bit...rowdy. So Daphne had talked Velma into it, after a lot of haggling and arguing. Since Halloween was officially on a Monday this year, the city council had opted to let the kids go trick-or-treating on Saturday. There would be no rush-hour traffic and it wouldn’t be on a school night.

 The charity party was scheduled for Saturday, from 14.00 to 19.00, at the Boys & Girls club. Daphne still had to go round and gather up last minute donations of party supplies and goodies, being as today was Friday. And what better way, she had thought, than to go round in the costumes they would wear at the party. So Daphne had got up early, showered and got into her Snow White costume. She had called Velma just prior to getting in the shower, to tell her of their plans for the day. Arriving in her compact, convertible sports-car, Daphne saw she was well ahead of her intended schedule. It was exactly 09.15.

 “Please remind me of exactly why we’re going collecting in costumes?” asked Velma. She was so not looking forward to this. “I mean, I’ll be seen in public...like...like...this!” she lamented as she adjusted her wings.

 “Oh will you just relax,” said Daphne. “It’s all in good fun. You do remember how to have fun, don’t you?”

 “Of course she does!” exclaimed Mrs. Dinkley. “Now you two run along but don’t be afraid to call if you need an extra hand,” she grinned.

 “Oh brother!” said Velma under her breath. She then hugged her mom and exited the house with Daphne. Both girls turned back and waved “bye-bye”, ere getting into the car. “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this!” exclaimed Velma as she buckled her seat-belt.

 “You should be glad you’re wearing the Tinkerbell costume,” said Daphne. “It’s actually one of my older ones, just glad it fits you. The costume shops didn’t have much to choose from...unless you wanted to go dressed as a giant hamburger,” she giggled.

 “Perish the thought. Why couldn’t we just wear our super-heroine outfits?” Velma questioned Daphne.

“Well, for one thing,” started Daphne, “everybody already knows who we are, in them. I mean, like it was really no big secret from the start. Another thing is...it’s supposed to be real warm today and you know how hot and sticky we get in those things, especially yours!”

 “I think I’d rather be hot and sticky,” complained Velma.

 “Velma, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. We’ll have lots of fun, you’ll see,” she grinned. Shifting the car into reverse, Daphne backed down the drive into the street, making sure no-one was coming. She then turned to the left and headed towards downtown. “I have to stop by the club-house (here, Daphne was referring to the Boys & Girls club) to get a list of donations to be picked up. There were so many donations, that we had to split up into teams to collect them all. We’re team number four.”

 “Oh...joy,” said Velma sarcastically. “Well, at least it’s a nice day for it.”

 “That’s the spirit!” laughed Daphne at her own little joke. This illicited a groan from Velma. But she was right...it was a nice day to be out and about...for October anyway. Party cloudy skies soon gave way to almost full sunshine as the mercury climbed into the lower seventies. A faint breeze and low humidity added to the calm but unseasonable weather.

 Traffic was light, given morning rush-hour had passed. It only took Daphne ten minutes to reach the club. By 09.30, she was pulling into the car-park. She quickly found a space near the front entrance and parked. Getting out of the car she looked back at Velma, who didn’t seem to be moving. “Are you coming inside or what?” asked Daphne. “You’re gonna be seen at the party like that, so you may as well get used to it a day early.”

 “Alright...I’m coming, I’m coming,” said Velma. “But my wings keep shifting!”

 “Let me see,” said Daphne as Velma got out of the car. She walked round the back of the car towards Velma as she turned round for “inspection”. “Here’s the problem,” said Daphne after a quick check. “You forgot to clip the right wing all the way...there,” she said as she fixed the problem. “How’s that?”

 “Fine, I guess,” said Velma as she wiggled her shoulders. “But I still feel silly!”

 “Oh c’mon and let’s just get inside,” said Daphne. The costumed duo entered the building; Velma following Daphne into the the main office. An older, middle-aged woman was sitting behind a well worn desk, busy at a stack of paper-work. Her graying hair mussed under her crumpled, black witch’s hat. She was wearing the requisite witch’s costume. “Good morning Mrs. Caldwell,” beamed Daphne as she and Velma entered the office.

 “Why Daphne dear! Good morning to you!” Mrs. Caldwell beamed back. “I didn’t hear you come in. My look at you! Wonderful!” Turning to Velma she said, “And you must be ah...don’t tell me...Velma!”

 “Yes ma’am,” said Velma flatly.

“Fantastic costume! The kids will love it!” gushed Mrs. Caldwell.

 “Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am,” said Velma in a monotone voice. Daphne gave her a side glance that said “A bit more enthusiasm wouldn’t hurt you.”

 “Well...I didn’t expect to see you so early,” started Mrs. Caldwell. She went back over to the desk and quickly found what she wanted. “If you’re ready to start, I’ve got your list right here. Team Four, that’s you,” and she handed the paper to Daphne.

 “Wow!” exclaimed Daphne, “This is a pretty long list! I don’t know if this will all fit in my car!” The list contained the addresses and names of the donours, and what was to be donated. It was numbered to 26; the last entry looked to have been written in much later.

 “Got it covered,” said Mrs. Caldwell. “A nephew of mine runs a car rental agency, over near the marina. Business has been slow, so he offered us the use of a couple of his mini-vans...actually...more like a half dozen.” She opened up a small cabinet attached to the wall, just behind the desk and to her right. Producing a set of keys, she handed them to Daphne. They were marked with blue painter’s tape. “We colour-coded the keys with the vans, so they wouldn’t get all mixed up,” said Mrs. Caldwell. “Any questions?”

 “Just one, really,” spoke up Velma. “This last entry...number twenty-six...it lists the address but the donour is ‘anonymous’? Also that the item is a ‘surprise’?”

 “No fair!” grinned Mrs. Caldwell, “That’s two questions! But, to ease your curiosity, I just got the call for that about an hour ago. Sounded like a sweet older lady and specifically asked, that Team Four drop by and pick it up. Maybe it’s someone you helped out on one of your mysteries?”

 Daphne and Velma both shrugged their shoulders as they checked the address given: 13 Parksdale Drive. “I don’t recognise this address,” said Daphne.

 “Nor I,” said Velma as Daphne let her have the page. “But Parksdale Drive is in the older section of town. I remember reading an on-line article about it. Something about a ‘revitalisation’ of the area.”

“Well, we’ll just have to go and find out, when we get there,” said Daphne and she shrugged her shoulders again.

 Now not so certain, Mrs. Caldwell expressed concern, said, “If you girls have any trouble, you call me here ASAP.”

 “Not a problem...I’ve got you on speed-dial,” remarked Daphne. “We should have this done in no time at all. And at least there are no perishable items listed.”

 “Oh that’s already been taken care of,” returned Mrs. Caldwell. “Mr. Fruitmeir is supplying the colder refreshments.”

 “Hoo-rah,” whispered Velma in Daphne’s left ear. Daphne giggled. The girls waved good-bye to Mrs. Caldwell as they shuffled out of the office. They found the van easy enough; parked just a few spaces down from Daphne’s car and next to a similar van, painted beige. Daphne unlocked the driver’s side then climbed in. Reaching across the passenger’s seat, she unlocked the passenger-side door so Velma could enter. Daphne was relieved to find the other key worked as she started the van’s motour. Being a rental vehicle, Mrs. Caldwell’s nephew had ordered them with different lock and ignition keys. It was an extra precaution, in case of theft. It also made them a bit cheaper to insure.

 It was 09.50 by the time the girls exited the car-park. Checking the list, Velma realised that all the addresses were clustered together save for the last one. “It's very well organised,” she remarked.

 “What do you mean?” inquired Daphne as she slowed and stopped for a red light.

 “I mean,” began Velma, “the way this is set up. All the addresses are close enough to one another, so we’re not spending all day driving all over town...except for this last house. Very efficient, actually.”

"Oh that,” said Daphne. “Shaggy actually helped out with that. Some new mapping programme he’s working the bugs out of. Mrs. Caldwell gave him her master list, once all the donations were confirmed. There were a hundred total, so twenty-five for each team...except we got that extra one at the last minute. So Shaggy just input all the info and came up with the easiest way to pick everything up.” Velma sighed. It’d been almost three months that she and Shaggy had gotten together. But then, they both had been so busy since they had graduated from high school. They had agreed to separate for a while.

 The time seemed to pass all too quickly as the girls made their way round town. By 12.30 they had gotten through most of the list. With only nine houses left to go, they decided to stop for a short lunch break. As Daphne pulled into the car-park at the Salad Bar (one of those trendy new health-food eateries that seemed to be popping up everywhere), she failed to notice an older, beat-up looking, gray panel-van, as it slowly passed by. It was one of those type used by contractors. There were no markings on the van. The driver of the van pulled over to the kerb across the street and waited until the girls got out. Visually confirming that he had the correct “target”, he shut off the motour and waited. It was open parking along the wide street so no meters to worry about. After about twenty minutes, Daphne and Velma exited the eatery and got back into their borrowed mini-van. Swinging back out of the car-park, Daphne turned left and continued on down the street. The other driver started his own machine and, checking traffic and seeing an opening, pulled out and followed, staying a good city block behind but still able to clearly see his target.

 The two girls were at first unaware of anything amiss and continued on their mission of collecting the party donations. It wasn’t until the next to last house, that Velma told Daphne to wait a second before getting out of the van, said, “I think we’re being followed. Perhaps for a while now.”

 “Followed?” queried Daphne. “I haven’t really noticed.”

 “Check your side-view mirror,” said Velma. “There’s an old gray van parked about a block back. I caught sight of it just after we left the Salad Bar. It’s been with us ever since.”

 Daphne looked in her side-view mirror and spotted the van Velma was on about. “Maybe someone’s just making deliveries and the route is similar to ours,” said Daphne. “Could just be a co-incidence.”

“Maybe,” returned Velma. “Or maybe I’ve got too much suspicion on my mind. I didn’t see any markings on the van.”

 “Too many mysteries?” smiled Daphne.

 “Could be,” said Velma. ”Whatever.” She shrugged her shoulders as the two hopped out of the van. While Velma went up the walk, Daphne opened the van’s right sliding door, looking for place to stuff the next donation. That done she joined Velma, who was already bringing back one of three boxes of donated goods. “There’s two more boxes,” said Velma. “Do we have enough room? They’re all this size (indicating the banana box from a local produce stand), but not heavy. Mostly napkins, paper plates and plastic eating utensils.”

 “We have room, even if we have to wedge it in,” said Daphne. The donour was cheerfully thanked as the two girls finished loading the supplies. As they were getting back into the mini-van, Velma looked back and noticed the old van was no longer there. Following her gaze, Daphne said, “See? It’s all just your imagination. C’mon! Only one more house to go!”

 A few clouds had started to gather but still the sun prevailed. By now it was 15.45 and quite warm. The temperature having topped out at an unseasonable 83 degrees fahrenheit. Parksdale Drive was on the other side of the city. It took a bit longer to get there, what with the early rush-hour traffic starting to accumulate. By the time the girls reached the area, it was 16.15. “Half an hour to get here!” lamented Daphne as she checked her watch. “I was hoping to be back at the club by 16.00. Oh well. Hopefully most of the rush will be over by the time we start back.”

 “When does the club close for the day?” inquired Velma as Daphne turned onto Parksdale Drive.

“Right around 18.00,” replied Daphne. “But Mrs. Caldwell said she’d probably be there late anyway, making last-minute preparations for the party.” Velma nodded her head.

 Parksdale Drive was one of the oldest streets in the city. Full of old Victorian era homes...many long since abandoned or foreclosed. A few were reduced to burned-out hulks. The area had seen better days. There were no other vehicles in sight, save for their own. House number 13 was quickly found, and Daphne pulled into the empty, wide driveway on the right. “Creepy-looking, isn’t it?” she said.

“B-b-brrrr!” exclaimed Velma and she shivered, despite the warm temperature. The old white house with green trim, looked like it hadn’t been lived in for a long time. The faded and peeling paint, weed-choked front gardens and tall grass were a good indication of that. “I’m wondering if this is someone’s idea of a prank,” stated Velma as the two cautiously got out of the van. Passing the double-car garage, the girls slowly stepped onto the front farmer’s-style porch...carefully testing the floor-boards. They seemed strong enough as the duo eased their way towards the front door, every board letting out an ominous creak or groan. There was no doorbell and the door-knocker had long since fallen off. Daphne was surprised to find the front door opened, as she knocked on it. The door, surprisingly, did not creak upon further opening, but seemed rather well oiled.

 “That’s strange,” said Velma. “Who would want to just keep a door’s hinges oiled and not fix up the rest of the house?”

 “Search me,” said Daphne as she entered. “Hello? Anybody home? We’re here to pick up donations for a Halloween party.”

 The interior of the home was dark, mainly due to the heavy draperies covering all the windows. Faint cracks allowed little light to enter. As her eyes adjusted to the musty gloominess, Daphne noticed a side-table in the dusty entrance hall. The open front door shed some light upon it. There was an envelope on it, rather new. As the girls slowly walked towards the table, the front door suddenly slammed shut causing both girls to jump in fright. Velma immediately ran to the door but was too late. It was firmly locked. Before she could turn round, she heard Daphne scream in surprise, then terror. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEK! Vel-l-l-maaaaa-a!” Then silence. Velma slowly tip-toed back towards the table. Getting out her mobile, she opened it up. The blue-green light from its screen cast eerie shadows about the walls and floor as Velma looked for where Daphne could have...disappeared to. Velma noticed that the envelope had been slightly moved. Daphne more than likely had gone to pick it up, just before she vanished. Velma reached to grab the envelope and, too late, she realised it was connected to a wire of some sort. The instant she tugged at the envelope, a trap door opened up just under where she stood. She gave a yelp as she fell through the floor, into the darkness below. Her mobile had fallen aside and was still on the floor above. Velma would not recall anything until she woke up, having conked her head hard on the hanging trap door on the way down.

 Footsteps could be heard on the floor above, but neither girl took notice, for both of them were unconscious. They lay there...in the dark basement...on old, moth-eaten mattresses. The swirling dust slowly settling over them.

 The footsteps continued on into the kitchen area and then into an enclosed breezeway, which separated the garage from the rest of the old house. As the figure entered the garage, it sauntered over to where an old, beat-up gray van was parked. Passing by the gray van, the figure then walked towards the right garage door. Manually opening it, the figure looked out and, spotting no-one about outside, proceeded to the mini-van. Daphne had left the key in the ignition. The figure climbed in, started it up and pulled it inside the window-less garage. Shutting off the motour, the figure got out and quickly re-closed the door. It then went back to the gray van, opened up the back and gathered up a boxed filled with hemp-style rope, a couple of very sharp knives and white strips from an old cut-up bed-sheet. The figure then went back into the house, crossed the kitchen into the main hallway and opened the door that led to the dark, damp cellar...

 To be continued...

Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Kriminal Horror

Below are a few cover scans I "rescued" from e-bay Italy. They have been upgraded a bit but I'm still looking for better scans as well as any interiors for these books. Since they are horror-themed, they fit in well with the October Theme Month over at Western Civ (link to the forum is in the side-bar). A different scan of number 77 is featured on BCOTD. And, as I'm a long-time contributor to this site, the webmaster already has the upgrades, heh, heh...

Monday, October 8, 2018

Mary Marvel Enslaved

This is the second tale from Mary Marvel #12 (Fawcett Publishing, Inc.~May, 1947). Here, Mary Batson and her friend, Creighton Tinkerman, go "time traveling", a hundred years into the future...or so they think. Read on as Mary becomes a "slave" to the "queen" of the hive...

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Sugar Dolls

Here is the other tale from Archie's Girls Betty and Veronica #103 (Close-Up, Inc.~July, 1964). This can also be found reprinted in The Best of Dan DeCarlo Vol.1 As most of you know by now, letting Veronica loose in a kitchen...only produces a disaster. And here, she serves it up in spades, so to speak, with the help of the, unsuspecting, Betty Cooper. This is probably one of the stickiest and messiest tales I could find, next to Debby and her taffy fiasco! This tale gets stickier with every panel! Mega-post! Multiple detail panels! Pick and choose you favourites, heh, heh (mine is "5d1")...read on...

Debby Does Taffy

Anyone remember what a "taffy pull" is? If not, this incredibly sticky tale will enlighten you; just remember which ingredients to use. This the Debby back-up story in Archie's Girls Betty and Veronica Annual #1 (Close-Up, Inc.~1953 Edition). Watch for a "cat versus dog" running sight-gag ending up as stuck together as everyone else. Art by Bill Woggon (of Katy Keene fame). There is GID and FID, for those into that. Details at the end, per usual...

Saturday, October 6, 2018

Betty Gets Messy

You can tie the very last panel of this tale to Halloween...sort of. It's a basic reference but still a good zinger by Mr. Lodge, heh, heh. Culled and restored from Archie's Girls Betty & Veronica #98 (Close-Up, Inc.~February, 1964). Poor Betty bears the brunt of veronica's subtle wrath, starting with the sticky, messy toothpaste! It gets worse from there...