"But Coco is in the Coolsville Penitentiary," Velma noted, her brain already spinning with theories. "If these are her designs, who is wearing them? Or better yet, who is controlling them?"
Suddenly, a strange green light flickered outside the window. A low, haunting moan echoed through the house, followed by a familiar, robotic clanking sound. Trick or Treat Scooby-Doo!
Fred was busy waxing the Mystery Machine, Daphne was perfecting her latest outfit, and Velma was deep into a book, occasionally sighing at the lack of a good puzzle. Meanwhile, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo were exactly where they wanted to be—safe in the kitchen, surrounded by a mountain of "Halloween snacks" that would make a buffet look like a light appetizer. "But Coco is in the Coolsville Penitentiary," Velma
"Jinkies!" Velma exclaimed. "Those aren't just costumes. They look like... us?" A low, haunting moan echoed through the house,
Daphne noticed a small, high-tech tag left on the ground where the Ghost Diver had stood. "Look at this. It’s a specialized fiber... the same kind Coco Diablo uses for her high-end designs."
"Like, this is the life, Scoob," Shaggy said, stacking three sandwiches on top of each other. "No ghosts, no ghouls, just us and a giant bowl of popcorn."
"Reah! No rhosts!" Scooby agreed, his tail wagging as he eyed a box of Scooby Snacks.