Scooby-Doo! Frankencreepy

Hola, Daphanatics.

We're back with another episode of Jeepers! It's Daphne!

Later in the show, you'll get a sneak peak at my new modeling portfolio.

A lot of you keep posting videos or comments...

asking me about my other career as a mystery-solving teen monster-buster.

Like this video from AlexSuperfan2112.

I heard that you're responsible for breaking up the greatest band in history...

the Alex Super Experience. Is that true?

It sure is, AlexSuperfan2112.

It all started when the band accidentally conjured up the ghost of Mamba Wamba...

a creepy voodoo witch doctor.

Oh, look. We have a live video chat.

- Hi, Daph. - Hi, Fred.

Great show. I just wanted to point out that,

as Velma has taught us again and again... there's no such thing as ghosts.

Mamba Wamba here only pretended to be an otherworldly witch doctor.

He was really a music producer who got performer Lila...

to pretend to be a zombie in order to steal a potentially lucrative pop song.

Oh. Wait, what?

- Like, hey, Daph. - Shaggy. Scooby.

But I think the musical case was the one with the green phantoms, wasn't it?

Oh, yeah. They were really Creeps and Crawls,

a pair of crooked, aptly named lawyers. We were in a tight spot...

but once again, Velma's brilliance solved a musical riddle and saved our lives.

Huh? I thought we were gonna see your modeling pics.

- Oh, hi, Velma. - Hi, Daphne.

- Great show. - Thanks.

Hey, I was just singing your brain's praises.

I know, I was watching. But that's just number crunching.

It's your personal magnetism that allows us to get close enough to bust these sociopaths.

Like this one. Remember Old Iron Face?

Oh, do I ever. He was actually café owner Mama Mione...

masquerading as the ghost of a weird pirate or something...

to help convicts escape from prison.

Wait, no. Like, you're thinking of Redbeard's Ghost.

Man, ugh, that dude was creepy.

Yeah, creepy.

That's right. At least, until we found out he was C.L. Magnus...

a shipping magnate who was stealing from himself and pocketing the insurance.

Mm-hm, that's right.

Hi, Daphanatic. What's your question? Is it about my modeling pictures?

What? Oh, no, I just searched "Velma Dinkley," and this website came up.

I have an urgent message for her. My name is Cuthbert Crawley.

- I'm a lawyer for her family. - Lawyer? Family? Uh, ha, ha.

Clearly this is some sort of scam.

Scam? Velma.

Oh, Daph. The Internet isn't exactly the most reliable source of information.

Nobody checks anything. I mean, look at this.

A super suit? Please.

And with tiny agents that sit inside this thing?

Laughable.

Wait, you're saying that tiny special agents aren't real? But...

Velma, you're ruining my show.

Besides, the beauty of the Internet is the freedom of information.

And all the cool stuff you can buy too.

Velma, please. It's a family emergency.

You must come to my office as soon as possible.

I'm texting you my address.

Whoops. Looks like we lost him. Moving on.

He said it was an emergency. We need to meet him right away.

- We don't, Freddy. It's really okay. - Come on, gang. Time's a-wasting.

Well, Daphanatics, I guess that's all for now.

Keep liking me. Please.

Ooh, wait. What about the modeling pics?

Boy, it's great to have the gang back together. Let's go.

Fred, you really don't have to go to the trouble...

Nonsense. A road trip is what we all need.

Come on, gang. Let's go see this lawyer Crawley.

But, Fred, wait. Is the Mystery Machine even ready?

Is she ready?

She's ready.

Record time once again.

Oh, careful, gang. I just had her detailed and her flowers touched up.

Daph, fingerprints.

Let's keep her as shiny as we can for as long as we can.

I know it won't last forever, but I have to try.

I love you.

Mm. You are such a beauty.

Such a beauty. I love you.

Velma, you are the sole beneficiary of your great-great-uncle Baron Basil's estate.

Like, Mr. Crawley, when you said the candy was complimentary...

do you mean it's, like, free?

Uh, yes.

As I was saying, due to an unusual proviso in the will...

you, Velma, as the youngest member of the Dinkleys...

inherit the entire property, including the castle in Transylvania.

- Aah! Transylvania? - Transylvania?

Uh, heh, I see. You needn't worry.

This castle isn't in Eastern Europe. It's in Transylvania, Pennsylvania.

It's a rural village of ethnic Transylvanians, who, like the Amish...

choose to live in a more traditional 19th-century lifestyle.

The 19th century?

Well, you must be thrilled about this.

You'll be a woman of property and inherit all of your family's fortune.

I don't want anything to do with my great-great-uncle Basil.

They can give all of it away, for all I care.

- Give it away? - Why wouldn't you want it?

Perhaps that's just as well...

considering all that talk about the supernatural curse hanging over the estate.

- Curse? - Curse? Oh, ho-ho-ho.

Yes. It's said that anyone who gets too close to the baron's legacy...

will lose what they love the most and then be utterly destroyed.

Don't worry, we'll stay away from the baron's legacy...

and his arm-acy and his foot-acy.

Wait a minute, Velma.

If you're related to a baron, that makes you royalty.

You could inherit a tiara.

Why wouldn't you want your inheritance? You don't believe in the curse, do you?

Of course I don't believe in the curse. You should know me better than that.

Just leave it alone, Fred.

Jeepers, Fred. What...?

I know every sound the Mystery Machine makes, and that is not one of them.

Everybody, down.

And if it wasn't for you meddling kids...

Clearly it was all just an elaborate hoax.

None of it seems to add up.

If it wasn't for you snooping around, I would have gotten away with it.

Another mystery solved.

We don't need you kids interfering.

Meddling around where you're not supposed to.

It was really just a disguise to throw us off the...

Fred, behind you.

Scooby-Dooby-Doo.

You'll have all the time you need to think about that, at the state prison.

I have a hunch that this whole mystery is about to be solved.

I guess you'll be going away for a very long time.

And that explains why those spooky creeps were able to fly.

That guy's the worst parking-lot attendant in history.

That's no valet, Shaggy. That's the Ghost of the Baron...

Velma's old ancestor and the source of the curse I mentioned earlier.

Perhaps I should've been more forthcoming about the details.

Gee, you think?

"Stay away from Transylvania."

Don't worry, we wouldn't be caught dead in that town.

Sorry, Shaggy, but that is exactly where we're going.

Jeepers, Freddy, I don't know.

We've faced a lot of ghoulish creeps before,

but this one just blew up the Mystery Machine.

And that's why we have to go, Daph.

Together we've brought down more than our share of villains...

with nothing more than pluck, jerry-rigged traps...

and a box of Scooby Snacks...

and for no better reason than a love of justice and my van...

and a knack for meddling and a love for my van.

- Did you just say "van"? - No. No, I didn't say "van."

But now we find the forces of evil have come to us.

Why? We don't know why. Who? We can't say.

But there is one thing we can say for certain.

- What? - They killed my van.

This time... This time it's personal.

But, like, without the Mystery Machine, how would we even get there?

The Transylvania Express.

Who'd have thunk there'd be a night train to a town I never heard of?

- I love this train. - Like, why?

Two words: snack bar.

Hoo-hoo-hoo. Yeah, at least they do have a snack bar.

And I don't mind if I do.

Garçon, we'll take as many hamburger platters that will fit on these trays.

And don't be afraid of stacking.

Sir, the Transylvanian Express offers...

only a tasty array of traditional Carpathian delicacies.

Carpa... Huh? Uh, what?

Yuck!

- What's this? - What's what, Daph?

It's that teen mystery solver gossip site.

I thought there might be something about my modeling or whatever, but check this out.

"What blue-spectacled teen super sleuth is hiding a terrible family secret?

Hint: She wears orange knee socks every day."

Velma, that's you.

The truth is out on the Internet.

Well, it looks like my big secret is exposed.

I never wanted you guys to know.

Did you ever wonder why I'm so obsessed with debunking the supernatural?

We just always assumed it was something you fell into.

I was always curious about the attachment to orange knee socks.

Because you totally pull them off.

Mm...

It's time you knew the truth.

My crusade of reason is the result of my deep, shameful family secret.

Like many émigré families, our original name was Americanized...

when we disembarked at Ellis Island from the old country.

America. We are free, ah, ha!

You can't stop here. Move it along.

- Name? - Von Dinkenstein.

Von Dinkenstein?

Yes, I am the direct descendent of the infamous Dr. Von Dinkenstein.

Back in the old country, legend had it that he was the man who created a monster.

It was this story that inspired Mary Shelley to write her famous novel...

Frankenstein.

I don't believe that my ancestor ever succeeded

in actually creating the monster, of course...

but the fame created by Shelley's story haunted my family.

It caused a kind of madness in some of my relatives...

who wished to achieve where my ancestors had failed.

Basil reclaimed the family name, and its occupation.

Guys. Did you even hear a word of what I just said?

Well, yeah. Your great-great-uncle Baron Basil Von Dinkenstein...

went crazy trying to re-create the experiment.

"Baron's monster runs amok. Loss of income, blow to tourism."

Oh, that's on the Internet?