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Daphne thinks that road trips are a lot like make-up. She’s sure Velma would vehemently disagree and come up with a number of different analogies, but this is one that works for Daphne. After all, make-up tends to become mundane and a routine after a while, just like driving. You forget about its brilliance and how it can impressive, and start focussing on how it becomes a trial and an annoyance.
But then, suddenly, you’ll look at yourself and see what you’ve done and recognise the joy it brings you, or maybe you’ll discover something new and find yourself remembering how beautiful it can be. Road trips are like that too because, sometimes, you take an unexpected turn and find yourself staring out at something that is beyond words; beautiful in every sense of the world.
Of course, it wouldn’t be half as great if Daphne didn’t have the gang with her wherever she went. The endless travel would get a lot longer then, she imagines. It’s still long, of course, but it’s easier. Kinder.
“You look like you’re thinking, like, heavy thoughts,” Shaggy says, poking his head into the front. He holds out a bag of lollies. “Is it that hour of the day already?”
Scooby says something in agreement, though looks far more interested in getting his nose into the bag Shaggy’s holding out. Daphne grabs a few, tosses one to the Great Dane, and lets her attention return to Shaggy.
“Some thoughts are heavy but not in company,” Daphne says.
Pulling a face, Shaggy replies, “If you say so.”
“You know,” Velma says, lifting her head from where she’s been fiddling with some wires, “metaphysically, thoughts don’t have any weight but, they do have mass. Y’know, since they’re energy signals and all that.”
Fred frowns, flicking a glance through the rear-view mirror. “Aren’t mass and weight the same thing?”
Wiggling a hand, Velma replies, “Synonyms in a literal sense perhaps, but scientifically they’re different terms.”
There’s no time to respond to that, because suddenly Daphne has an excitable Great Dane on her lap, sticking his big head out the window and shouting, “Right! Right!”
“Like yeah Scoobs, right!” Shaggy shouts in agreement. “Good spotting!”
“Spotting what?” Fred asks, sounding somewhat exasperated, even as he slows down to turn off the highway and down a dirt track.
The track is clearly not made for the van, even with its amped up suspension thanks to the joint work of Velma and Daphne. Fred makes sure to drive slowly, carefully avoiding pot holes and muddy puddles of water. “Where are we going, gang?” he asks as he goes, glancing sideways at the fields surrounding them. To the left, cows graze on green grass with a small dam off to one side. Meanwhile, on the right, a field of crops stretches as far as the eye can see; a great big irrigation set-up placed somewhere in the middle.
Daphne, stuck beneath Scooby-Doo’s weight, wheezes something inarticulate, but convinces Scooby to move off her lap with an apologetic, “Rorry Daphne,” and a lick to her cheek.
“It’s only, like, the perfect place to have a picnic!” Shaggy says. “Oh man, what have we got Scoobs? I see sandwiches, chips, slices, watermelon, dips, cucumber sticks.”
“Reese!” Scooby helpfully adds with a tail wag.
“That’s right, Scoobs! An entire wheel of cheese!”
At that, Daphne can’t help but twist around. “Do we at least have crackers?” she asks, and Scooby and Shaggy exchange a look, before turning to her with the exact same expression.
“Why do we not have crackers for the cheese?” Velma asks, twisting in her seat as well. “What are we having the cheese with?”
“Nutella!” Scooby and Shaggy say in perfect unison.
Daphne blinks and goes to reply, but then she spies the strawberries. “Are those strawberries?” And they have Nutella! It’s going to be the perfect chocolate-and-strawberries experience.
Shaggy nods rapidly. “Only the best of my loves!” he says, and Daphne feels a blush immediately form on her cheeks.
“You’re too sweet,” she says, smiling, and turns back to face the front as the van slows even further.
“Is this the place, gang?” Fred asks, voice softer than normal and, when Daphne turns to look at him, he’s outlined in golden by the sun’s rays. She smiles at him, and looks to see and-
“Oh.”
Daphne’s not entirely sure if she’s the one who spoke or if it was someone else, but she’s struck by the sight ahead of her. The dirt road has ended—as roads tend to do—and opens up into a field of flowers, a river snaking away somewhere down the slope. The horizon stretches into greenery and a shadow of a forest, before it turns to the sky with its bright streaks of colour foretelling a spectacular sunset.
The van door opens with a small groan and when Daphne looks out the window, the view is interrupted by Scooby Doo holding a picnic rug in his mouth and Shaggy holding a picnic basket above his head with a beaming grin on his face.
“Alright then,” Daphne says with a laugh, and joins them outside.
Fred and Velma soon join them, Velma lugging a handheld radio that she places down and sets up. Soon enough, the picnic rug is set out and the radio is crooning away. Daphne watches with a smile as Scooby goes gallivanting around, returning for some food before disappearing once more.
“This was a good idea, Shags,” Daphne says, bumping her shoulder against Shaggy’s. Shaggy smiles at her, a softer smile than his normal, and intertwines their fingers.
Fred hums as he picks out a carrot stick and spoons a large dollop of dip onto it. “Yeah, we needed the break,” he agrees. He looks the most comfortable of them all, stretched out with grass patches staining his white top. When he moves, his feet nudge up against Daphne’s legs gently.
“How’d you even know this place existed?” Velma asks, fiddling with wire once more. Shaggy nudges a plate of chips her way, and she eats some of them thoughtlessly. “I don’t recall being here before.”
Tapping his nose, Shaggy replies, “It had a good food scent!”
It sounds outrageous, but it’s outrageous enough that it might just be true—Daphne’s never quite been able to. Then again, she doesn’t need to either.
“There!” Velma cheers, and holds out her latest wire construction. Daphne leans forward, letting go of Shaggy as she does so, and Fred sits a bit more upright too.
It seems like the very world is holding its breath, but then Fred says, “Oh, it’s us.”
And indeed it is. Somehow, with only wire and her nimble fingers, Velma has constructed four figurines—one for each of them—all holding hands.
With a smile, Velma pulls out one last wire creation—a Great Dane. “And Scooby, too.”
Scooby barks, reappearing to flop on one corner of the picnic blanket. As he does so, he lifts his head to the sunset-streaked sky and says, “Scooby dooby doo!”