Wicked Game | Teen Ink

Wicked Game

January 23, 2023
By Anonymous

There are lights everywhere, flashes from cameras and cell phones, lamps from the film crews of major networks, helicopters, headlights from NYPD vehicles, lasers from SWAT guns... As always, the end of a major case solved by Captain Frederick Jones is something cinematographic. However, for me, the only light that matters at this moment is the light of the digits on my watch, which shows that soon it will all be over and I will have my well-deserved vacation. I am so tired that I don't even care about Fred (again) hogging the microphones and taking all the credit for discovering that a former Marine was dressing up as a diver to steal yachts from the rich Upper East Side people. Months ago, I swear I would have cared. After all, I am the DNA-girl, the science behind every case Frederick Jones solves. I'm the Carbon-14-girl that analyzes any crap found at crime scenes, the girl who finds three phone digits in an old notepad and compares with a database of over 420 million phone numbers and still finds the son of a b*tch. I am all the dirty work of the NYPD, so I have every right to demand my slice of applause and my lines of praise in the New York Times. But today, I can only care about the comforting scene of arriving at my house, taking off my glasses and forgetting that crimes exist. Today, all the credit goes to Captain Jones.

Daphne: Hey Vel, good job! We wouldn't have made it if you hadn't found those microscopic algae!

The red-haired girl hugged me tightly before I could answer anything. I had no option but to hug her back, so that she could let me go faster. In fact, if it weren't for my algae, Fred and I wouldn't have made it. She, poor little one, had nothing to do with our case, since she doesn't even work for the NYPD. Daphne is always around following our work, offering legal help and meddling a lot. She does everything to get a few seconds of attention from Fred Jones, her teenage-crush since high school. Lately, she is doing even more things to get closer to him, as Fred has recently ended his second engagement and he is available again. I feel very sorry for Daphne because, mentally, Fred is still in high school and has never matured enough to develop any kind of involvement (except, obviously, sexual) with a woman. So, for Fred, the sweet and kind-hearted Daphne is just a pretty lawyer who can adorn his bed and make him earn manhood credits with his (equally immature) friends.

Daphne: Look, Dad even sent his congratulations to our team! He is very pleased to hear that the marina robberies have been solved.

Against my will, the screen of an iPhone 13 was placed in front of my face and Daphne was euphorically pointing to the "Congratulations!" that George Blake sent via Whatsapp, accompanied by an emoji of applause. I have received far more elaborate and emotional automatic emails from Amazon on my birthday, but for Daphne, receiving a simple "Congratulations!" (which probably was only written "Congr" and the rest was filled in by the auto-corrector) and an emoji from her own father was like a family Christmas Eve around the fireplace. Her mother, Nan Blake, is even less affectionate, and Daphne is satisfied when her mom views (without responding) any of her messages.

Daphne: Mommy saw the link I sent! Oh, she's online! Oh, she's typing something!

Between shrieks of joy, Daphne looked at the screen in a childish way, waiting for crumbs of a love she never received. I felt sorry, because I knew the answer would never come (Nan was probably without her reading glasses impatiently pressing the mobile screen to close the application, and Whatsapp understood this attitude as "typing a message"), so I quickly celebrated and changed the subject, so she wouldn't be disappointed by the lack of answer.

Daphne: Marcie also saw the link, look! I just sent it and she already replied, look! She even sent me some jokes about...

Marcie saw it in three seconds because you are incredibly beautiful, if it were any other woman in the universe - including her boss and her own mother - it would take her at least two weeks. And she would only answer if it was very urgent. This is my fiancée, Marcie Fleach. And this is Daphne Blake, my best friend, who is not only an emotionally dependent, but also extremely naive. Obviously, I couldn't verbalize the real answer, so instead I was direct:

Velma: Marcie Fleach is being Marcie Fleach. You know how she is.

My response caused a beautiful smile on her face. Yes, it seems that its not only my fiancée who is inexplicably kind to beautiful women. That must be why Marcie and I get along so well since high school. We have a lot in common.

Daphne: And do you have any plans for you vacation?

Velma: I thought about going to California for about ten days. Chomsky is giving a lecture at UCLA that I am dying to see. Then, we will go to Europe. Marcie said that a group of scientists is developing a study on Hawking radiation at the University of Berlin that will be...

Daphne: Shhhhhh!

Before I could finish the sentence, Daphne covered my mouth with one of her hands. She does it since five years of age, but this time I was offended.

Daphne: Shhh, he's going to talk! - she said, putting her cell phone camera to record and pointing it at Fred, who was starting his "big" interview – Later we talk about vacation, ok? I need to talk to you about something very important!

I didn't say any other word, I just answered by rolling my eyes and making a grimace, which she copied and in the end we both laughed at each other.

Velma: Come on, are you really going to film another stupid interview? How many useless gigabytes of Fred Jones do you have on your hard drive?

This time she responded with a gesture, a rude middle finger shown disguisedly while the other fingers hold up the cell phone.

Velma: You should stop making room for this idiot on your hard drive and make room for him in other of your things...

The emphasis I put on the expression " in other of your things " made Daphne's cheeks blush violently. Soon I felt the beak of the Louboutin scarpin hitting me angrily on the shin, and she - now angry - began the quick maneuver of deleting the video I had ruined and starting the camera to continue filming the rest of the interview. I laughed as I realized the disruption I had caused. Another video successfully ruined.

Shaggy: Like, hey girls! Let´s eat something later? I'm starving!

Daphne squirmed with anger and pointed to the camera on, indicating that she was recording and didn't want any sound to spoil the interview. She didn't ask for silence because I am the one in charge of telling Detective Rogers (whom we affectionately nicknamed Shaggy) to shut up since our high school days, so I played my role once again.

Shaggy: Like, sorry, Daph! Hey, where do you guys want to go? Like, how about that Mexican restaurant that's on youtube ads?

Daphne rolled her eyes and gave up asking for silence. Norville was not good with non-verbal language. And he wasn't good with verbal language either. But by some miracle, Shaggy graduated with honors at college and joined the police. Okay, the major accomplishment of his police career was to work five years in DEA smoking pot in the bathroom without getting caught, but still, seeing Norville succeed in a career  was something impressive, especially after so many high school teachers emphasized that he would be a complete failure. I, particularly, never thought he is dumb. In fact, Norville is a typical example of that phrase "if you judge a fish by his ability to climb a tree, he will spend his whole life believing that he is stupid”. He is a genius, in his own way. If you judge him by his ability to know what a mitochondrion is, you will think he is stupid; now, if you judge him by his ability to play video games and tinker with computers, you will think he is the new Steve Jobs.

Shaggy: Like, Daph, did I ever show you the app I made for Scoob?

Poor, sweet Daphne made a negative gesture with her head, her facial expression was divided between frustration at having Fred´s interview ruined and compassion for her friend who was begging for her attention. Finally, compassion won, and she ended the short video to hear Norville. As I said earlier, Norville is a genius in his own way. At the NYPD, he is the kennel guy in charge of the dozens of sniffer K9s who do a scientific job that is dirtier (yet very similar, including in labor benefits) than mine. Among so many dogs, his favorite is a brown flat-coated retriever that he named Scooby-Doo because of a stupid old song that keeps repeating "dooby dooby doo". To make his job easier, he has developed an application that translates barking into human language. Obviously, the translation has no scientific basis, but this fact didnt  stop it from being an absolute hit with downloads worldwide.

Shaggy: Scooby-doo, give me a bark, dude!

The obedient K9 barked enough to ruin the interview (and to annoy the reporters and bosses of the NYPD) and to form words in the app that made Daphne and Norville laugh.

Fred: What's up, gang? Another case successfully solved!

Daphne welcomed Captain Jones with arms wide open and congratulated him with a generous kiss on his cheek. Shaggy, in his turn, greeted Fred with incomprehensible synchronized hand-shakes that the school boys did. I greeted him with my usual grumpy expression, because he took all the credit for the case again.

Fred: Oh, come on, Vel, I mentioned your seaweed!

Daphne: He did mention it, Vel, I filmed!

Neither Fred's argument nor Daphne's flattery convinced me otherwise, so I made no effort to change my facial expression. Like all egocentrics, Fred Jones couldn't tolerate girls who didn't smile at his charms, so my bad mood was a purposeful weapon to hurt him at his greatest weakness.

Velma: Next time, you will let me talk live about my own seaweed! Or you'll have to find your own seaweed! You're lucky I'm happy with my well-deserved vacation, otherwise I´d…I´d…

The tone of my voice, mixed with my forefinger pointing at his pointy nose every time I finished a sentence contributed to increase Fred Jones' narcissistic insecurity. Checkmate.

Fred: That's right, good point, Vel! We are on vacation now! You are amazing, you always think of everything!

He expected me to return the compliment, which obviously didn't happen and the atmosphere was tense. I learned that tecnique in the book "How to deal with narcissists, page 23".

Fred: Speaking of vacation, I have to go, guys. Nice vacation to you all!

And this is how a narcissist behaves when thwarted.

Daphne: Wait! Fred! We... we are... going to eat something somewhere, right gang? Don't you want to come with us?

My sullen expression made Fred hesitate to answer -probably because he was in doubt if he should extend his evening with one of the dozens journalists surrounding him or if he should accept the invitation and try to extend his evening with Daphne Blake. Instead of formulating a response, he simply looked at me and Shaggy, waiting for some confirmation. Obviously, there was no confirmation from my part, but Shaggy was not so firm:

Shaggy: Like, sure, Fredster, join us!

I sighed and rolled my eyes as Daphne celebrated yet another victory for her pet narcissist. So I decided to practice another precious lesson from "How to Deal with Narcissists": Chapter 1 - Walk away ASAP.

Velma: I can´t go, gang.. I need to go home,  Marcie and I need to prepare our vacation stuff…

Daphne: Marcie could join us, Vel! Couldn't she?

The Blake family has the habit of using verbs in conditional mode as a subtle way of indicating imperative. "Jenkins, it's already four o'clock, could you bring me my tea?" means "Jenkins bring my tea immediately because my patience is running out." In other words, "Marcie could" means "Call f*cking Marcie right now." Before answering, I consulted my cell phone and noticed 15 missing calls from my fiancée and "call me as soon as you can" messages. I smiled quietly at the possibility that Marcie would decline.

Velma: I need to call her, by the amount of calls, I think something happened.

Fred: And where are you guys going? There is a great sports bar on 35th St. ...

 Before returning Fleachy's calls, I put all my energy into shooting Fred Jones one more time with my disapproving look. After all, he wasn't even invited initially, and now that he was included, he wants to determine the location of the dinner. Damn sense of leadership. Fortunately, he realized my intentions and shut up immediately. The phone didn't even call and Marcie answered.

Marcie: Hi honey, I need to talk to you urgently about our vacation...

Velma: What's up, Marce?

Marcie: Well... it's just... well, come home, will you?

Unlike the Blakes, Marcie Fleach uses the imperative mode to indicate the conditional mode. Inheritance from her days as the student council president, when she needed to be authoritative and nice at the same time. That is, “come home” means “could you kindly come home, please, so I can personally tell you something you won't like to hear?”  By a lapse of stupidity, I left my cell phone on speaker mode while I asked Marcie about going to dinner with the gang, so I couldn't lie to Daph when she agreed.

Daphne: Great. I thought of a simpler, more informal place, how about Benihana?

Everyone agreed with some resentment. I love it when Daphne Blake tries to be affordable in her choices, she always fails miserably. Now, I was condemned not only to do something I didn't want to do with a person I didn't want around, I would also have to spend far more than I would like to spend on sushi. Finally, we agreed about a time and I left them at the moment the vain Captain Jones was beginning to explain for the thousandth time how "he" managed to solve the crime. In the middle of my five-block walk, a  high-speed Scooby-Doo runned over me with Norville's car heys in his mouth. .

Shaggy: Like, I'm sorry, Vel! Scooby loves this stealing-my-stuff game!

Norville helped me up and continued walking silently beside me. It was his own way of talking about my disagreement with Fred without having to say anything, or having to choose one of us to defend.

Velma: Another case successfully stolen, uh?

Shaggy: Like, let it go, Vel.

Velma: Let it go? It's obvious that you're upset too! He stole the f*cking case for himself, Norville! We worked how many months on it? 6? 8? I can´t count how many tests I did, how many botany books I had to read to find out about those damn algae, and now all the credit goes to him!

Shaggy: I don't care, really.

Velma: You don't care? Of course you do! If it weren't for Scooby and the other K9's, we'd never find the bandit's trail, and without the trail we'd never find the algae...

Shaggy: Like, forget about it, Vel. The bandit was arrested, that's what matters. The rest is a useless fight of egos and vanities...

As I said: Norville is a genius in his own way. He managed to silence my anger with a simple and cathartic sentence. I couldn't answer anything; after all, he was right. Putting my vanity in a ring with Fred Jones's vanity would be an endless duel of titans. Not having anything to say, I laughed to see the cheerful Scooby running from his guardian and stopping from time to time to look back and make sure he was being followed.

Velma: Are you also depressed to spend the amount of five meals on a single dinner? Or is it just me?

Despite being just the dog guy, Norville makes five hundred dollars a year more than me, the DNA-girl-with-post-doctorate. Great merit of sexism. Plus, he comes from a financially comfortable family, he is the son of a generous and understanding father who gives him money as often as my parents give me bad advices about how I should live my life. So, Norville's major problems with money are actually caused by an unexplained metabolism (which makes him hungry all the time) and the existence of first-person shooting games that require payment for the release of accessories. So the five hundred dollars that he earns more than me are always spent on piles of hamburgers and CS:Go guns.

Shaggy: It's okay, Vel, I'll take some of the money from the reserve I made for Valorant's battle pass...

When I was about to start talking about another random subject, Scooby-Doo got tired of running and laid down to chew the keys. Shaggy said a quick goodbye and runned to the dog, who happily started running away from his guardian again. I didn't have to walk far to get to my building, nor I didn´t have to get to my house to talk to my fiancée. As I passed through the gate, Marcie was waiting for me in the hall with the familiar "I did some kind of shit and I'm here to apologize" face.

Marcie: Honey, I'm so glad you're here! I so needed to talk to you.

Marcie hugged me superficially and quickly. I returned the gesture in the same way, waiting for her to explain what was going on. However, like all the times she wants to justify herself for doing something she knows I won't like, she was not objective. As we were walking up the stairs, she started a confuse conversation about magnetic cards, commented about her experience as a Marketing Designer, brought up the card subject again by revealing that she started a project to make ecologically harmless cards... but I only understood the meaning of the conversation when I opened the door of the apartment and found hundreds of magnetic cards (made of recycled paper) with the logo of the amusement park that the Fleach family maintains in Orlando, FL.

Velma: Marce, what the f*ck is that? Why you didn´t pack your bags yet? We leave tomorrow morning!

Marcie: Vel, I'm sorry, I've started a publicity project for my parents' park and we will have to cancel our vacation... Dad called for help and I couldn't refuse! They can bankrupt, Velma!

The Fleach family has been trying not bankrupt for years. Obviously, due to the fact that keeping a traveling amusement park (with dubiously operating toys from the 70's) in a city like Orlando, FL is not a very smart idea. And also due to the delusions of success of Mr. Fleach (motivated by bad financial coaches books), who spends twice as much as he raises believing that one day he will be the new Walt Disney. I swear I´ve searched for words to confront Marcie, but I couldn't find them. A few questions popped into my mind (will they pay for your work? Will your work be a success? Can your father afford hundreds of recyclable magnetic cards? Will colored cards convince customers to pay and risk their lives on toys that use pig grease as lubricant?), but I wasted no time in verbalizing them. After all, I know the answers to all of them.

Velma: Marcie Michelle Fleach, I can´t believe what you just told me....

Marcie: Velma... listen...

Velma: I refuse to listen, Marcie! Do you have any idea how selfish this decision is? And why I am the last one to know about it, at the last minute?

Marcie: You're not the last one to know!

Velma: Nevermind! You should have asked me first, don't you think? Did it even cross your mind that I should have been consulted about how I will spend my well-deserved vacation? I work like crazy, Marce, I don't even get some credit for my work, we hardly see each other daily, we're always working on our careers, and the only time we can be together you...you...arrange to spend the vacation in your parents' filthy trailer park? How do you expect me to react to all this?

Marcie: I expect the woman who loves me understands me! That's all! How selfish it is to demand that I have some fun while my parents are on the edge of bankruptcy, unable to afford their own medicine?

Velma: As selfish as using the love I feel for you as a way to manipulate me in favor of your decisions!

And we drag on this argument for hours. Between accusations and emotional exhaustion, the discussion lasted until twenty minutes before the time we set to meet the gang at the restaurant. I quickly got ready - far away from her, because I couldn't even look at her face – and I intended to go alone, but then I realized  she was ready and waiting for me at the door.

Marcie and I didn't say a word to each other until we reached that restaurant, where Daphne was waiting for us at a reserved table.

Daphne: Hi girls, glad you came early!

We greeted Daphne, but we still ignored each other's presence. Sensing that something had happened (and Daphne's intuition never fails), Daph looked at me, and then at Marce and kept shifting the look, waiting for either of us to say anything. Obviously, Marcie did, just to annoy me:

Marcie: Wow, Daph,  you look great! Are you trying to get someone's attention with this dress?

The totally inappropriate comment made Daphne blush and made me step on Marcie's toes angrily. Instead of complaining, Marcie smiled and hugged me, thinking that my gesture meant that everything was ok between us, but I continued to ignore her.

Daphne: Oh, no way, Marce! What makes you think I get someone's attention with this dress?

The fact that all heads turn to you, perhaps? I think Marcie, like me, also answered Daph's question mentally, because after my kick she didn't say anything. Daphne, however, started talking, ´cause she wanted so much to change the subject and not to make it (even more) evident that she had dressed for Fred Jones.

Daphne: Did you finish your cards, Marce? Can you believe that right after we bought those recycled paper cards I found beautiful bioplastic cards, I think we should buy some, don't you think?

Yes, I'm the last one to know! That's what I told my fiancée, screaming telepathically.  I shot Marcie with an angry look, and luckily she understood my non-verbal language. Daphne, with her keen intuition, realized that she overshared, and again started talking about random subjects that could make me forget about it. I tried to look on the bright side of the situation: at least we are not paying for those stupid cards. Or maybe we are? After all, Daphne's wealth comes from the abusive fees that her banker father charges us, his poor customers. When a normal talk finally started, we saw Shaggy waving at us at the door with an Alice in Chains shirt, a short beard and a huge smile on his face. When he arrived, he gave us tight hugs that cracked our spine joints while  the sound of loud, low-pitched barks could be heard from outside the restaurant.

Shaggy: Sorry girls, Scoob won't let me stay here with you, he'll be barking til I leave so, like, I just dropped by to say hi...

Daphne: Oh, no way, I need you to stay! You need to hear about my new case. You can sit here by the window, so Scooby can see you…

Shaggy agreed and took his place by the window. When Scooby-Doo saw him, he went wild, barked, and started jumping so madly against the restaurant's window that security guards had to intervene.

Shaggy: Wow, Daph, did you dress to receive an Oscar?

Shaggy's comment made Daphne blush again, as it confirmed what Marcie said about he dressing to get Fred´s attention.

Shaggy: Like, hey, Vel! Hey Marce! How is the card-making process?

I'm definitely the last one to know about the damn cards . This time, Fleachy replied “ Well, thanks ” and smiled awkwardly at Shaggy. She avoided looking at me because she knew this time my angry look would be as deadly as an atomic bomb.

Shaggy: So, tell us about your case, Daph! Like, meanwhile, I'll choose the food because I'm starving…

Daphne: Well, this case is different from anything I've ever seen, and I´ll need your help... but, let's wait Fred and my client arrive, so I tell you the details once...

Shaggy responded with joy, but I wasn't sure if his reaction was due to what Daphne's said or due to the menu he was analyzing. I started mentally elaborating a polite refusal, because I didn't feel like spending my vacation working so Daphne could spend days seducing Fred Jones. I have a lot of skills, but none of them are “being a f*cking cupid”.  When the waiter came to get Shaggy´s list, Marcie asked some Yuzu Margaritas and I ordered a Mojito, so the mint could boost my patience and the rum could help me deal with all the sh*t I would have to deal with until the end of that night (including the presence of Captain Jones). I love my friends, but sometimes they only make some sense when they're accompanied by a good dose of alcohol. Daphne didn't order any drinks ´cause she´s alcohol-weak (she gets completely drunk with Coors light), and Shaggy ordered and ate so many things before my Mojito arrived that I couldn't even count.  Scooby was watching us from outside the window, suddenly, he pricked up his ears, looked around carefully, and ran away. Shaggy left quickly to follow Scooby, at the door, he saw the dog euphorically barking and circling Captain Jones.

Daphne: Fred is here!

I understand that Daphne has her personal reasons to celebrate Fred's arrival, but I gave her a fierce glare anyway. Due to the case solved hours earlier (and shown at all channels), Fred Jones was a celebrity. He couldn´t even walk to our table without being interrupted by people waving, clapping and even asking to take pictures with him. Daphne, as usual, greeted Jones with smiles, with arms wide open and a kiss on his cheek; Shaggy did his indecipherable handshake, and Marcie repeated the cheap flattery everyone was giving him. I just said hi, downed my Mojito, and hoped the therapeutic properties of the mint and rum would make an immediate effect in my mood.

Fred: Hey gang, what a day, uh? Looks like the whole NY city is celebrating our case solved.

Marcie: You guys are amazing! People admire you guys! By the way, have you noticed how beautiful Daphne is tonight?

Daphne's face turned as red as her hair. I tried to kick Marcie to make her stop talking, but when I got an accidental kick from Daphne, I realized that someone else was also trying to make Fleachy shut up. Obviously, Fred had already noticed Daphne, but after Marcie's words he analyzed every inch of her again and ended his analysis by looking deep into her eyes.

Fred: She is not beautiful tonight... she's beautiful everyday…

Daphne smiled, but Fred Jones is an asshole so he didn't continue the courtship. He suddenly started talking about the damn details of the case he solved. Rather than helping me to relax, the quick addition of alcohol into my bloodstream gave me a horrid state of mind. During the conversations, I was distant, silent and everything irritated me.  I was distracted looking to the image of Scooby-Doo sitting on the sidewalk when, suddenly, the dog raised his ears and repeated the gesture he did when Fred arrived. This time, he didn't run away, he put his paws in an alert position and began to bark. Shaggy asked for silence more than once, but Scooby didn´t stop. Without hesitating, Shaggy opened his dog language app to discover what his best friend was saying. The app translated the barks to the english words “Get away!” and “Killer”. Daphne, Marcie and Shaggy looked at each other and shuddered at the ominous message. Jones and I, for the first time in our lives, agreed at one thing: we laughed at Norville's app.

Fred: Come on, gang, it doesn't mean anything! We all know that this app is just for entertainment…

When the barking and the scary “translations” stopped for a while, Shaggy looked at me and asked my personal scientific opinion.

Velma: Fred is right, this is ridiculous, there is no scientific basis for this app and dogs have no verbal language.

My words soothed them and made Shaggy close the app. Scooby continued to bark, the  restaurant security guards approached to make him stop and Shaggy had to leave the table to make the dog calm down. I couldn't pay attention to the next random topic that Fred, Marcie, and Daphne were talking about because I was distracted by the image of a mortal, american, blond version of a greek god getting out of a type of car that, to me, only existed in Fast and Furious movies. I don't usually care about cars, let alone men, but this time both called my attention. Obviously, everyone at the restaurant noticed the arrival of that New Yorker Apollo and followed his steps into the restaurant. For my surprise, his destination was exactly our table, Daphne got up and greeted him.

Daphne: Guys, I want you to meet my client, Mr. Alan Mayberry.

“To me, his name is Apollo ,” was the thought I  had when I offered my hand to charming Mr. Mayberry, having an inexplicable straight-woman smile on my lips. I didn't feel guilty for that because my fiancée did the same thing (so that b*tch also notices handsome men?), and after her, Daphne did the same, but her hand was pulled by Apollo's strong hand and he gave her a hug. The only one who wasn't impressed was Fred Jones, who refused to step down from his ego's pedestal to greet Mr. Mayberry. With his manhood bruised due to the presence of another alpha male, Captain Jones just waved and glared.

Alan: Client? Please! I am not a “client ”. Daphne and I are friends… we're neighbors, actually. I live next to Blake Tower, I can see her from my window. And she is always working, she's incredibly talented. Daphne is the only Blake girl who has the competence to lead George's empire. BTW, I owe everything to George Blake, a great man who taught me the path to success…

Apollo kept praising and praising Daphne for five minutes. And the bad trip caused by the Mojito made me feel depressed that I was wasting my money and my time watching another stupid male tryin to get a relationship with Daphne Blake. My only amusement in those wasted five minutes was Fred's angry, jealous face as he watched the scene. Fred Jones doesn´t want to have a serious relationship with Daphne, he doesn´t  even care about her enough to tell her his real intentions. But Fred Jones doesn´t want any other man to have it either. He wants to keep Daphne in “ standby mode ”, always at his feet, after all, a completely-in-love Daphne is a beautiful trophy.

Fred: Well, Daphne, can you please tell why you brought us here?

Daphne smiled when the jealous Fred abruptely interrupted Apollo. She waved at Norville to make him return to the table, Shaggy waved back and started walking, but Scooby ran after him, bit the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled him out again.

Fred: I don't think Norville will mind if you start without him, Daph. We'll explain it to him later.

Daphne: Okay! Gang, I brought you here to talk about an exceptional case I took recently and I would like your help to solve it. Mr. Mayberry…

Alan: It's Alan, Daph... for you, it's Alan...

Daphne: Okay, Alan, my client…

Alan: I´ve already told you we're friends, Daph, and also neighbors...

Daphne gave Alan a reproachful glare to make him stop interrupting her. Mr. Mayberry got the message and smiled disconcertedly, then made a gesture for her to continue talking.

Daphne: So, Alan is the CEO of a huge fintech in Manhattan and claims that a brokerage company called Liberty stole his money…

Fred: So we're wasting our night because Mr. Mayberry is an incompetent investor?

Fred´s words were violent, but instead of offending, they made Alan laugh derisively.

Alan: No, Daphne knows I have a lot of experience …

The mischievous tone of Mayberry's reply made Daphne blush and stutter while she angrily explained

Daphne: No! What… what Mr. Mayberry means… is…that... that he worked for my dad for many years. He was Blake Bank´s director for many years before starting his own business, that's what he means when he says that “I know he has lots of experience”. Oh, nevermind, let me finish… Last year, Alan gave Liberty the sum of 2 million dollars to invest in bonds, but  the person in charge disappeared with his money last month. So, Mr. Mayberry wants to sue him for the loss, but while I was studying the evidences to build the case, I came across a mystery…

To me, the only mystery is: why a person who spends about 4 million dollars in a car wants to sue someone for losing “only” 2 million? Unless the lawsuit is an excuse to flirt with Daphne Blake and become George Blake's son-in-law. Well, looks like I've already solved this mystery.

Fred: And what's so mysterious about that, Daphne? Financial scams happen all the time, you just need to be stupid enough to be caught…

Alan: So you're saying Daphne's father is stupid enough, Jones, because he's a victim of Liberty too...

Fred was kind of embarassed by what he said, and immediately looked at Daphne to confirm what he had just heard.

Daphne: Calm down, I'll explain about my dad. Let me finish, yes? I need your help because the crime happened in NY, so it's your jurisdiction, Fred. I found out that the place where Liberty is supposed to be operating has neither business licenses nor employee records, nor anything that proves that a huge investment management company really exists at that address. Furthermore, I found out the Liberty manager who was responsible for Alan´s money is a missing person in his country, South Korea. His name is Cho Sang-woo and local police says he´s been missing since June 2020.  On the other hand, Interpol says his last bank operations occured in NY city last moth at a Liberty branch in Cedar St., so this city is the last place where Cho Sang-woo was before dissapearing. I couldn´t find Sang-woo´s missing report at NYPD missing person department, so I need you to do it.

Fred: It´s a classic case of embezzlement, Daphne. Fake companies appear all the time offering millions quickly and magically, and unprepared jerks  end up falling for their promises. Its obvious that the person responsible disappeared, all thieves hide after a robbery.

Daphne: Liberty is not a fake company, Freddie. It was founded more than 20 years ago, it has offices all over the world and lots of customers. But Liberty´s biggest office here in NY, at Cedar St., has no licenses. Isn´t it weird?

Fred: Honey, trust me, I´m in NYPD for years and it seems that your case is not a mystery. It's just a financial scam. Velma can digitally track the money… if we find the money, we find the thief, case solved.

The lovely “dear, trust me” made Daphne melt and sigh, but it didn't make her give up her arguments.

Daphne: I know where the money is, Fred, and this is the weirdest part.  Alan said my dad recommended him Liberty´s services last year, after he did a 36 million investment. I went through my own sources and found bank receipts for 36 million going from Blake Bank Inc.´s account to Liberty´s Applegate Bank account, so this information is true. Then, Alan invested his 2 million… but last month, the all the money disappeared. The impressive amount of 38 million dollars - 2 million is Alan´s and 36 milions is dad´s - left Liberty´s Applegate Bank account in NY and ended up in several Applegate Bank accounts located in Silmido, a desert island in South Korea. DESERT ISLAND, Fred. And then, all the money was withdrawn from ATM machines on that same island. Is there a logical explanation for 38 million being withdrawn from ATMs in a desert island?

Shaggy: Maybe wild animals are learning bad consumerist habits?

Norville made the infamous joke and finally sat down at the table. Apparently, he heard a bit of the conversation.

Shaggy: Sorry guys, Scoob don´t want me to be here, he said “It's dangerous”!

Alan didn't know about the app and when he heard that "a dog said the place is dangerous" he doubted at Shaggy´s sanity. We just ignored the damn app one more time.

Fred: Daphne, sweetheart, it's a classic financial scam, believe me. Obviously, this island must be a tax haven and maybe it´s not really uninhabited. Liberty´s smart-ass just managed to put  the money he stole in a safe place far from police and from taxes. Don't worry, we'll catch him. I'll get you a warrant and tomorrow Shaggy can take the dogs to the scene. And Velma can manage the digital forensics, we will solve this easily. Don´t worry.

Daphne: Frederick Jones, listen to me!  Silmido has NOTHING, the South Korean army says there is no kind of construction or human activity there! And Interpol and Google satellites confirm it. How can a place without internet or modern buildings have ATMs or bank branches?

Shaggy: Like, you said a korean name when you mentioned the manager's name, didn't you Daph?

Daphne: Yes, Shaggy, the manager is called Cho Sang-woo, and he's from Seoul.

Shaggy: Like, I thought maybe he might be somewhere else in South Korea withdrawing that money, but he purposely altered the place to hide his location… like, those VPN programs for games… I just need to find out if bank systems could behave like this too…

As I said, a genius.

Velma: If online banks can do it ? Absolutely Shaggy. So, apparently we're dealing with a hacker embezzler, Daph. Something not very simple for a police captain to solve ALONE, as it requires an exhaustive work with forensic experts, right Fred?

Daphne: There's more. As I said, the money left NY and went to several Applegate Bank accounts in Silmido. Applegate Bank has filed for bankruptcy after some financial scandals, my dad is Steven Applegate´s friend and helped him to recover so far, but  the government and the federals are still keeping an eye on his company.  So, a bankrupt bank involved in financial scandals before suddenly  transfers 38 million to a desert island and FBI does nothing?

Shaggy: Like, we could have corrupt feds, Daph. They just pretend nothing happened.

Fred: Or maybe it´s some kind of money laundering…

Velma: Or maybe we have another Deacon Carlswell, Fred, remember? He was a bank manager, just like Mr. Cho Sang-woo, and had a complex scheme to steal from the bank he worked for.

Alan: Anyway, I just want the motherf*cker arrested and my money back. That's why I hired the best lawyer in New York city…

Daphne tried to ignore, but her cheeks inevitably flushed.

Daphne: So, I need your help to go ahead, gang. I cannot accuse Liberty of theft or embezzlement having only the little information Alan has given me. Also, I need you to find where Sang-woo is. I'm sure the best police team can hel…

Fred: No! No way, Daphne. I cannot start a case about a huge company without real evidence. It´s very clear that this was a financial scam, and Mr. Mayberry fell because he is… unskilled.  Plus, this is a case for cyber crime department. All we can do is to fill a report and case closed...

Daphne: Fred! Please, I can't miss this case! Alan is a very dear person to my family, and the other victim is my own father, can you understand how important it is to me to solve this mystery?

Fred: …and it's also very dangerous for you, Daphne. If it's really an international money laundering scheme, we'll have to deal with dangerous people, only an asshole would get you involved in such a thing…

Then Daphne looked at me, begging my intervention to make Fred change his mind.  I didnt want to intervene because I had lots of plans for my vacation and I wasn´t really in the mood of seeking stockbroker freaks on internet, but… DAMN IT, Fleachy was so right! How selfish it is to prioritize your own wellness while a loved one needs your help? I knew the answer to the question was “f*cking selfish”, and I knew my own mind would be calling me “selfish b*tch” all summer if I didn´t help my best friend. So, I made my choice…

Velma: Fred, Shaggy and I can go to Liberty branch at Cedar St. tomorrow and gather some evidence, right Shags?

Shaggy: Like, sure, Vel!

Velma: Great. Also, I´ll ask the cybercrime department to check for more information. Now, Jones, please get me the fucking warrant ASAP.

Apollo and Daphne celebrated my verdict, while Fred Jones frowned at me and only answered monosyllabically until the end of our dinner. Marcie hugged me gently and gave me a sweet, proud smile because I did the right thing. Not long after, my cell phone vibrated and I was surprised by a message from Fred Jones secretly asking me “why are you following an asshole's orders? ”. As soon as I finished reading, he kicked my foot and looked at me with a disapproving expression. I replied sarcastically “ because is he my captain” and laughed at my own joke. My answer only made Fred's mood become worse, and he didn't answer me anymore. Then, we started to order some food. Outside, Scooby-Doo started barking again, this time he barked for minutes and pulled the traffic sign he was tied to so hard that he almost got off the leash. Shaggy hesitated to consult the app after Fred and I laughed at him, instead, he left us one more time to calm the dog down.

Fred: Hey, you're spoiling him, Shaggy. He's a police dog, not a pet. You cannot whatever he wants, he will unlearn all the lessons and good manners he received in training.

Shaggy: Like, I dont know what the hell he's quite agitated here, Fredster, Scoob isn't like that... there's something weird going on and he's trying to warn me...

Daphne: Freddie is right Shaggy, Scooby will be fine. We're in NY, he must be sniffing out someone carrying drugs or something...

Daphne and Fred convinced Shaggy to sit down again and wait for the food. In few minutes a huge portion of food began to be prepared right before our very eyes. Shaggy looked at all the ingredients on the griddle like a dog. Well, looks like Scooby is not the only one who needs to relearn good manners. When the food was ready, Marcie, Fred, and I hurried to get it before Shaggy. Apollo wasn't so smart (because he didn't know about Shaggy's habit of stealing other people's food), so he lost all the dishes he ordered. Daphne does not eat gluten, lactose, carbohydrates, meat, animal derivatives, or fried foods. Which, in practice, means that she eats only fresh vegetables & fruits, dishes from restaurants that charge more than $500/meal and that kind of exotic stuff nobody likes. Her bad eating habits come from a mother who was too lazy to feed her in the absence of babysitters (and encouraged her to eat quick and easy things, like blueberries and grapes), a financial condition that made her get used to eat in the best restaurants and an entire adolescence carrying the burden of being school´s prettiest girl. 

So, when Daphne´s weird food was ready, she didn´t have to hurry since not even Shaggy wanted it. Outside, Scooby was still agitated, barking a lot and pulling the leash. Suddenly, the leash broke and he ran quickly and happily. We all were startled by view of the giant, 110-pound Scooby Doo running in high speed towards us, but we had no time to stop him: he jumped through the open window and landed on our table, kicked the glasses and drinks, stepped on plates and scared all the customers and the sushimen. If it wasn't bad enough, the clumsy Scooby continued his destruction, he jumped up on my head and sniffed me out until my glasses fell on my plate, Fred grabbed him by the tail and Scooby bit his forearm. Then, he jumped up on Marcie's lap right after stepping on the soy sauce spilled on the floor, which made sauce marks in the shape of giant paws in her clothes. Shaggy tried to hold him, but he broke free and jumped up on Daphne till she fell in a wine puddle.  Scooby only calmed down when his snout found Alan's suit hanging on the chair. He sniffed it calmly for a few seconds and then began sniffing Mayberry as carefully as he sniffed the suit. Shaggy tried to hold him again by the leash, but Scooby escaped one more time. Concentrated and serious, Scooby showed his big sharp teeth and started growling and barking loudly at the suit.  Mr. Mayberry backed away from the dog, Shaggy told him to stop, but Scooby was so angry that he couldn´t listen to his owner. The other customers began to scream and run away from the big brown beast, security guards approached, surrounded the dog and threw chairs and objects to make him stop.

 

Shaggy desperately begged them to not hurt his dog. Marce and I picked some sushis on the floor and we tried to make Scooby eat and calm down, but he insisted on growling and chasing Alan Mayberry. Fred took advantage of Scooby's distraction and approached, then he grabbed him by the leash, said some command words used in training, and Scooby finally obeyed. Shaggy ran, hugged Scooby and scolded him, in the same way that a distressed parent does with a small child after doing something wrong. The customers returned to the (partially destroyed) restaurant and we could feel the weight of their glares against our shoulders. The security guards and the restaurant owners yelled at us, and Fred told us to leave so he could solve the situation. Mr. Mayberry apologized for the confusion and handed the restaurant owners a black credit card to cover all the damage and end the mess immediately. Daphne gathered our belongings and we left with our heads down, Shaggy followed us, pulling Scooby on a leash. On the way to the door, Scooby ate all the food he met on the floor and left the place with his snout up, wagging his tail in happiness. 

Daphne: Scooby! What the heck happened to you, honey? Did you get hungry?

Marcie: I think he sniffed some kind of… uh… an exotic cigarette in Mr. Mayberry's suit. Or some flour that can´t be used in cakes, if you know what I mean. After all, he is a police dog.

We all laughed at Marcie's suspicion and greeted Scooby, who seemed to be smiling.

Shaggy: Like, I thought the same thing, Marce. Scoob came from DEA, and you know the noses of these Wall Street yuppies consume more flour than Pizza Hut and Domino's together.

We laughed one more time, and we only stopped because Fred Jones arrived to spoil any kind of fun we could have.

Fred: What the f*ck was that, Norville? Bringing a K9 to a restaurant? How many times do I need to tell you to leave this stupid dog in the kennel? Can you imagine all the sh*t this mess is going to cause me?

Daphne: Freddie! You can´t talk with Scooby and Shaggy like this,  apologize immediately! It wasn´t their fault!

Shaggy: That's right, Jones, if you are having any trouble with me, just tell me and we can solve it between us! Now, if you say loads of sh*t about my dog I´ll punch you until y…

Velma: Hey! Calm down you both! And take it easy, captain. The dog was  tied in a proper place, probably he did what he did because he sniffed something suspicious inside of the restaurant. Accidents happen.

Marcie: Yeah, we think Scooby sniffed drugs in Mayberry's suit...

Velma: Or somewhere inside the restaurant. Maybe someone there is hiding drugs, as Scooby is a drug-expert, he found it…

Fred liked the theory of Mayberry having drugs in his suit because it was a great way to defame the one who threatened his leadership and his monopoly of Daphne´s attention. Alan Mayberry approached slowly, and Shaggy took Scooby for a walk around the block to avoid another attack.

Alan: Well, since this dinner has failed, we could go somewhere else… there's a great restaurant on 76th, it's just a few blocks from my tower, so after dinner we can have some drinks at my place…

Marcie and I both nodded in agreement, but only a second after we did it, we realized Alan's invite was only for Daphne. 

Daph: Alan, that would be great, but I have a web conference with District Attorney Reyes about that Hell's Kitchen crime, so I´ll have to decline.

If Daphne had known that Amanda Reyes slept with Fred Jones more than once, she would never have used that excuse to turn down a date. Since she can´t even fathom that, that was the most credible excuse she could find. Alan then said goodbye and left in his multimillion-dollar car. Fred Jones had a pathetic victorious expression in his face, so, of course, I HAD to provoke him.

Velma: Wow, Daph, he's gorgeous! Did you notice those arms?

Daphne blushed and Fred looked at me angrily, telepathically asking me “so now you notice men, really?” with his jealous eyes. 

Daphne: Ah… yes, Vel… but… I don't trust him very much… because…

Fred: Because of the drug stuff?

Daphne: What? No, Fred! Alan is not like that!

Fred: Don't be ingenuous, Daphne, why would Scooby attack him?

Daphne: I don't know, Fred, Scooby may have sniffed something… but I´m not talking about this accident when I say I don't trust Alan very much...

Velma: And why wouldn't you trust a strong, polite, multi-millionaire greek god, who watches you from his apartment window and who wants so bad to ask you out? He seems to be way better than the jerks you've ever wanted to date, doesn't he?

Daph: Vel, there's nothing wrong with the way Alan look, I just don't fully trust him. I can't explain it exactly, maybe it's only my intuition… there's something about him that is not trustworthy, you know? Plus, I have evidences that there's something wrong behind his façade of charm and success. I've searched about his wealth over the last two years and I've noticed that there is a 2700% increase. Even the luckiest and most experienced investor would not have such exorbitant gains in such a short time. During this period, he founded his own company, he certainly had a lot of expenses, how did he manage to become so rich? I mean… it's not possible that Alan did it with honest work and fair play, there must be something else. His financial life has clear corruption signs. And that's why I called you before I take on this case, I want you to investigate him. I can't risk my career defending a corrupt person.

Fred: Absolutely, Daph, we'll investigate him. Maybe his money is coming from drug dealing, maybe Scooby's attack wasn't  an accident... You know, when I first saw him I thought he looked suspicious…

“He looked suspicious for spoiling your leadership”, I said to myself. Daphne smiled for finding some reason to work with Fred Jones again and hugged him gratefully.  Suddenly, Shaggy and Scooby arrived smiling, munching on a pepperoni pizza they bought during their tour.

Shaggy: Hey, gang! Let's eat something somewhere else? My stomach is killing me.

Daphne: Sure! Can we meet in an hour? I need a bath and clean clothes…

Shaggy: Like, we need a pet friedly place…

Marcie: How about a dinner at our house? Scooby is welcome!

The good thing about knowing your friends since childhood is that they know you enough to read your thoughts. As soon as Marcie invited, everyone looked at me, waiting for my verdict about the questions “Can we go to your place?”, “Can we have dinner there?” and “Is Scooby welcome? ”. Considering  my utter horror of food crumbs and pet hair on the floor (I have a high standard  of what “clean” looks like), my automatic reply to the second and the third questions was NO WAY. And considering that I couldn´t do my daily cleaning routine because Marcie spread stupid cards all over the place, the answer to the first question was NO. Fortunately, my telepathic negatives were understood before I verbalized them.

Daphne: Sorry, gang, it can't be at home. Alan can see us from his window, and he may be offended that I said no to him.

Fred: So he really watches you from his window? What a maniacal son of a b*tch!

Said the guy who turns his head towards to check every woman out.

Shaggy: Like, it can be at home then. In an hour?

Fred: I´ll need more time, Shaggy. I need to take care of my arm.

I've seen Fred Jones suffer horrid fractures and concussions in football and still stand up like nothing happened. But when there is a beautiful woman around, he becomes a helpless victim pretending to be on the verge of death by a mere superficial scratch. This time, he was suffering for a bite-shaped bruise. Daphne obviously took the bait and offered her help. Something quite ridiculous, since Daphne let the dummy die during all first-aid training classes at school.

Velma: I think Fred can handle this, Daph, it's nothing serious. So, see you all in an hour? We will have a long forensic work tomorrow and I need to rest my neurons.

Daphne was confused with my intervention, but she trusts me more than her own family, so she understood that whatever I was doing was the right thing to do. Scooby started playing with Shaggy´s keys again and Shaggy left us quickly, without saying goodbye. Daphne hugged us, gave Fred her traditional kiss on the cheek, and said a shy “ I'll see you later ”. Marcie, as a good girl, realized that there was a pending argument  between Fred and I and she decided to go in front.



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