Switched and Bewitched
Chapter 5: That jacket with that skirt?
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“I think all of you are ready,” Timothy proclaimed.
“Really?” Fred asked. “You’re serious? You’re not just joking?”
“I am serious.”
“Like, Groovy!” Shaggy said.
“Please, guys, this is a very important excursion. To collect clues,” Velma reminded them.
“We have to have a little fun, or we’ll lose our minds,” Daphne argued.
“I am certain you can have fun and collect clues,” Timothy responded. He tossed Fred some keys.
“Fred, there is something waiting for you in the g-garage. I think you will find it quite to your liking.”
Fred flashed a wide grin and jumped to his feet so quickly the dining room chair flew backwards with a loud squeak.
“Ah-ah! Not so fast, Fred. You all have the knowledge to fly under the radar b-but you don’t have... the look. Your assistants are waiting for you in your rooms with some 21st century apparel. And then you can meet in the g-garage.”
Daphne returned to her room where she found her assistant, a preppy blonde whose name she could never remember, holding what seemed to be a whole new wardrobe. The clothes were all zipped in designer bags so Daphne couldn’t see what fashion disaster Tim’s crew had in store for her. She took the bags from Preppy Blonde and scurried into her room.
“This is what they’re wearing these days?” Daphne shouted into the hallway, staring down at a lavender t-shirt dress. “I’ve never heard of the brand ‘C.L. Magnus’.”
She laughed. “Totally! This is considered very fashionable. You can leave it as is or throw a belt on to jazz it up. Scarf?”
Daphne took the green scarf from her hand and wrapped it around her neck. “It just seems a little, I don’t know, plain. Do you have anything else?”
“Er, uh...,” Preppy paused. Her disappointment that Daphne wasn’t satisfied on the first try was written all over her face. “Like, yeah, totally Ms. Blake. Nooo worries. Be back in a sec!” She disappeared down the hallway only to reappear with more designer bags in tow. Flashing Daphne a perfect smile, she unzipped another bag and held up a lantern sleeve dress, gesturing like Vanna White. “Well? Maybe this?”
“Too poofy,” Daphne responded, hand on her hip. “Fancier than the first one and less... voluminous than that one.” Preppy held up a jumpsuit in a slightly darker shade of purple. “I don’t really feel like wearing pants, Prep -- Perhaps another dress?”
“Can I show you a dress-shirt combo?”
“I guess, I’m not quite sure what you mean --”
Preppy pulled out a light purple long sleeve shirt and dark purple pinafore dress. “This doesn’t totally match what I had in your fashion profile but I snatched it up just in case you --”
“Love it. I love it. I’ll take that.”
“Perfect!” Preppy squealed, handing her the clothes and a pair of lavender ankle boots. “Now for your hair. I’m thinking loose waves and some curtain bangs.” She pulled out a barrel brush and blow dryer from her bag. “This is, like, going to be so totally fun!”
Shaggy’s assistant was named Greg and was much less chatty than Daphne’s assistant. He had simply gestured to the closet and looked at Shaggy before darting off to address something he heard over his earpiece.
“Like, this is pretty alright, Scoob,” Shaggy said and turned around to face Scooby-Doo. His green t-shirt had been replaced with a button down of the same color and his baggy bell bottoms were now fitted slacks. In the closet were also leather sneakers and a grey cardigan.
“Rooking rood, Raggy. Rat rabout re?” Scooby asked, doing a little twirl in his new, but identical, collar.
“Great, Scooby. You look great, too.”
“Well, Fred, your outfit is fairly timeless, if I’m honest, but we have to make a few changes,” Fred’s assistant told him. He was a stocky fellow and didn’t appear to know much about fashion himself so Fred hesitated to take his word. “Namely, the ascot. The ascot has to go.”
“No! Not my ascot!” Fred said, clutching at his neck.
“I’m afraid so. We’ve hung your clothes in your closet, please take a look.”
Fred found pairs of dark blue jeans alongside loose white button downs and orange t-shirts. Fred got dressed and buttoned the shirt up just enough that the orange peeked through at the top.
“Why don’t you just tuck the front of the shirt in a bit? It’ll add a bit of style but still look effortless, I promise,” The assistant said.
Fred raised an eyebrow but did as he was told then patted his ascot, a forlorn look on his face. “I’ll miss you buddy.”
“You’re kidding me,” Velma said.
“Please, Ms. Dinkley. I really don’t want to argue with you and it is imperative you blend in. Not only blend it, it is imperative you look older as well. I understand you will be eighteen in just a few weeks but someone your age should still be in high school and if you are running around town it might draw unwanted attention,” Marcie said, holding out a pair of wide leg paperbag pants and a stylishly slouchy orange sweater. They’d been going back and forth about this for ten minutes.
“You barely look 18 yourself! I can’t believe this.”
“Ahem, I am 18, Ms. Dinkley, thank you. Please wear the clothes.”
Velma sighed deeply and snatched the clothes from her hands. She lovingly set her red skirt and orange turtleneck on her bed before stepping into her new clothes. There was a full length mirror on the back of the door and Velma looked at herself hesitantly. Well, maybe it’s not so bad, she thought.
Velma stepped back into the hallway. "Are you happy now, Marcie?"
"Uh, well, yes. You look... you look very good Ms. Dinkley," she responded. If Velma wasn't mistaken, Marcie was blushing slightly. "It’s just that the shirt is supposed to be tucked into the pants.”
“Oh,” Velma said. She carefully tucked the sweater into her pants and looked up. “I never wear pants.”
Marcie handed her a pair of maroon flats and then produced a pair of black, square-framed glasses.
Velma took both and started at Marcie through her new lenses. “Remarkable. They’re only twenty-percent the thickness of my old glasses, at most, and I can see clearer.”
Marcie and Velma walked down to the foyer, where they found Shaggy, Scooby, Daphne, and Fred.
“Um, Velma, those are, like, some groovy pants,” Shaggy said. His tone was entirely genuine but that didn’t seem to matter to Velma.
“Shut up, Norville,” Velma said. Change was not, and had never been, a close friend of Velma’s.
“Hey!”
“You’re just not looking very ‘shaggy’ right now,” she responded, but her tone had lightened and Shaggy could tell she was teasing him in good fun. “I love your outfit, Daphne, you look great.”
“Thanks. It’s definitely growing on me.”
“Guys, there’s time for a fashion show later, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Fred squealed and darted off to the garage. The Gang heard a loud gasp followed by the cry, “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you!”
Externally, the Mystery Machine was identical to the one they’d left behind in 1969. Internally, she was a completely different beast. Everything had been updated to reflect 21st century safety standards, of course, and all the bells and whistles necessary for on-the-go mystery solving had also been added. There was a satellite computer system in the back, a whiteboard, a Scooby-Snack dispensing machine, fingerprint dusting kits, a microscope, disguises, trapping equipment, and just about anything else they could need.
“This is... everything!” Fred shouted, practically hopping from one foot to the other. “Are you guys sure we have to go home because this might just be worth staying here.”
“Jeepers,” Daphne said as she peered into the back of the Mystery Machine. “I don’t know how to use half of this stuff.”
“Like, it is nice, Fred, but...” I still want to go home, Shaggy thought.
Marcie followed The Gang into the garage and consulted her tablet. “Your assignment is to drive into town and walk around Main St. Maybe grab a coffee, or go into a store.”
“That’s it?” Velma asked. “You’re making us walk around? Shop?!”
“And blend in,” she finished. “That’s the hard part. We will have an undercover operative keep an eye on you and report back to Timothy and myself about how well you do. Then, if it goes well, you can go out and start collecting clues about time travel. We have no idea how long it will take to master the intricacies of time travel. You could be here for months or even years.”
“Marcie, this seems like a waste of time,” Daphne said. “We should have started collecting clues the minute we landed here.”
“Honestly, Ms. Blake, I see your point, however clues that have lasted since 1969 are going to last a few more days. Off you go.”
The Gang piled into the Mystery Machine, Fred, Daphne, and Velma up front and Shaggy and Scooby in the back. Fred could hardly contain his excitement as he put the Mystery Machine in reverse and backed out of the garage. He turned to Daphne, beaming, and she giggled.
“Go ahead, Freddie. See what this thing can do.”
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