Shaggy was heading down the hall carrying a black garbage bag full of dumpster donuts. His dog Scooby trotting along beside him, actively drooling as he waited for his best friend to toss him another. “Like, this place is totally weird but the diner still throws away perfectly good donuts every night!” he said with a triumphant laugh. “Reah!” Scooby agreed before he impatiently shoved his head into the bag and chomped on a few more of the doughy treats.
“Aw Scoob,” he chided gently. “You’re going to ruin your dinner if you keep pigging out like that.” Shaggy was one to talk, as he actively finished his own and reached for another. Really though, they just had to finish the bag before Daphne returned to the apartment as they’d be hungry in another hour anyway.
He stopped, barely balancing the awkwardly shaped and weighted bag as Scooby removed his face from it - having smelled another human. “Hey man, you want a donut?” Shaggy asked upon looking up and seeing a guy nearby.
Literally the last thing Quentin remembered was hugging Penny goodbye and stepping through a door to take him to wherever his metro-card would in his journey in the Underworld. He hadn’t known what he would be stepping out into, but a small town, with a weird vibe to it and some really fucking peculiar radio transmissions was not where he imagined ending up.
At first, he had thought that this was it, his Underworld destination, but then he’d run into somebody else, and they had felt too warm, too alive, for it to be anything other than an alternative world. It was possible after all, alternate realities were not beyond the scope of reason or comprehension.
He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was… alive, not dead, but alive. Alone, yes, but alive. Christ, he hoped that Eliot and the others were okay wherever and whenever they were now because if they weren’t then he had literally died for nothing.
The thing about Quentin was that he existed primarily in his own head which meant that he got lost in there at times, so much so that it was easy for him to miss the fairly obvious tall, lanky man carrying a large awkwardly shaped bag and with a rather large dog at his side. That was until he was being addressed directly.
“Wha?” He asked, blinking. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with his ears and then it finally dawned on him that he’d been asked a question, about donuts. “Uh, sure.” Because why not, right? “Should I just reach in and help myself?”
“Like just dig til your heart’s content, dude,” Shaggy laughed.
This place wasn’t strange enough yet for Shaggy to be scared of it. He had yet to see a Ghost Clown, Ghost Lighthouse Keeper, or ghost anything. And the distinct lack of giant Creepy McCrawlies was totally okay in his book. Though, in all fairness his only trip out had been to the diner and the walk back was entirely distracted by donuts.
It was only a matter of time before Shaggy, and Scooby, started to catch on that the town had a very distinct charm. One that was borderline terrifying.
“Reah! Rust reach in!” Scooby replied, his jowls covered in donut crumbs.
The dog was talking. Quentin blinked, soaked that in, and then figured it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever seen or even encountered. He was in possession of a wooden brace in place of his busted shoulder that had been magicked into place by centaur surgeons after all. Also, magic, in general.
“Uh, thanks.”
He reached into the bag and came away with what looked to be a glazed donut without any frills and honestly that was more than okay. It looked okay for a donut pulled out of a bag. Quentin figuring that he had already died once he didn’t have that much to lose took his first bite, murmuring his approval a moment later.
The hand that had not been clasping a donut was offered. “Quentin Coldwater, but everybody calls me Q.”
“Like people who diss dumpster donuts are missing out,” he proclaimed - with Scooby agreeing before his head was back in the bag. This time Shaggy had to set it down as Scoob was carving out the one side practically and it was too awkward to hold any longer.
Shaggy gladly reached out to shake the guy’s hand. “Like nice to meet you, Q, I’m Shaggy Rogers and this here is my best buddy in the whole wide world Scooby-Doo--” Scooby’s ears perked and he stood at attention, his one paw going to rest over his brow. “Rooby-Rooby-Roooo!” the dog said, ending in a howl and a mischievous snicker.
“Are you from this totally weird but equally charming-until-otherwise-discovered town?” Shaggy asked with a nervous laugh.
Dumpster donuts? Quentin did a double take, swallowed the mouthful he had, and then just sort of held onto the donut in question. It didn’t taste bad so… maybe it would be okay? Besides, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo seemed to be in fine health and Quentin was guessing that this was something they did on a regular basis so… Quentin promptly finished his donut.
“Nice to meet you, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo.”
He shook his head quickly, affirmatively, and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Uh, no. Definitely not. I’m guessing you and Scooby aren’t either, huh? I mean, it seems to be going around.” He was not going to mention that previous to this he had been in the Underworld because judging by that nervous laugh that was something Shaggy would not handle very well.
While he knew that this Quentin guy not being from town either was interesting, and something he would maybe relay to Daphne later -if he remembered- Shaggy wasn’t exactly in Mystery-solving-mode quite yet. “Like what a coincidence.”
“Scoob and I are from a little place called Coolsville, that like, if you’re not careful you could drive right through it and not even notice,” he explained with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “Like man, in terms of strange and unusual places to end up so far this seems pretty tame,” Shaggy laughed, which Scooby echoed.
Fair to say they had both seen their share of haunted mansions and amusement parks and neither of those seemed to be prominent in Night Vale.
“Besides, it helps that our friend Daphne is here as well,” Shaggy added. “Any of your friends make the trip with you?”
“God, I hope not,” was out of Quentin’s mouth before he had a chance to catch it. “Oh shit, that sounded really bad.” And it did, but- Quentin pushed a breath out and grimaced. “I did not mean it the way that it came out.”
Ugh, he could feel the start of a migraine.
Quentin pinched the bridge of his nose but only briefly. “I just mean- Well, I was in a pretty bad situation before I ended up here and I really hate the thought of my friends being in similar circumstances.”
At first the confusion was evident on both his, and Scooby’s, expressions. Shaggy watched as Quentin seemed to regret his wording - which he didn’t really jump to any conclusions about. “No sweat, Q-arino,” he insisted, the bag of donuts still at his feet.
For a moment it made him worry that Fred and Velma were facing whatever ghouls back at home - alone.
“Like I totally get it, I’d much rather be here than stuck in some monster mansion or a boat full of banshees,” Shaggy said. “But I totally hope that our other friends are okay, and that yours are too.” Scooby gave a little “Reah” in agreement, his ears flattening a little in sympathy.
“But like, if you want, in the meantime you can totally count Scoob and I as your friends.”
Quentin was definitely taken aback by the ready extension of friendship from Shaggy but it was appreciated. “Thanks,” he said with a small smile. “Uh, you too. I mean, I might not be the best bet but I am definitely happy to be friends with you and Scooby.”
He really hoped that his friends were well back home, he really did.
“Which floor did you end up on?”
Shaggy offered a surprisingly warm smile to the other guy. “No worries, my guy. We’re like, all stuck in this crazy place together so might as well stick together.”
Quentin’s question about which floor they ended up on, though - took him for a spin, both figuratively and literally. “Uh that’s like, a totally good question dude,” he said, suddenly confused as he looked around. Squinting to focus, he read the numbers on the doors and snapped his fingers in realization.
“This one,” Shaggy laughed. “Not like, that room, but we’re definitely on this floor,” he explained, giving Scoob a quick pat on the head. “What about you?”
Shaggy did have a point and Quentin was inclined to agree with him, but he knew from experience that there would be somebody somewhere that would think the exact opposite or try to make trouble. He wasn’t looking forward to that when it happened.
“Huh,” he said with a small huff of breath. “Same floor, actually. What’re the chances of that?” He gestured vaguely behind him over one shoulder. “Room 206.”
“Like what a crazy random happenstance, man!” he laughed with a wide smile. Scooby let out an enthusiastic “Reah!” as his tail wagged, grabbing a few more donuts in his mouth before sniffing out their room. Because neither of them remembered the number.
Much like Quentin, Shaggy knew that sooner or later there would be some sort of terrible ghost or ghoul looking to cause utter chaos. He dreaded it; always. But until it happened, he was going to maintain his blissful state of oblivion and totally binge all the strange town’s food.