Scooby Dooby Doo, where are you
We've got some work to do now
Fictional kinds of fish, on a dish
Have turned up on a website.....
der, de der de derr derr derrderr
"Whoo hoo, whine, ooby dooby Doo... Gerlug, glug, glug..."
A scared looking Scooby wearing a snorkel mask, with a waterproof camera strapped to his back, is lowered into the depths of the River Ouse, as dusk falls over the Fens.
Up on the floodbank, in the Mystery Machine, the gang are watching footage captured by the cameras on a TV screen, as they pop a few tins and eat the remains of a chicken vindaloo.
"Uh, hey guys," says Shaggy. "Like, do you think ole Scoob's gonna be all right down there..?"
"Button it hippy," snarls Thelma. "If you don't like it, you can do the amphibious bit.
"This gig's worth a mint if we can pull it off, the BBC are desperate to find one of these walleye pike and prove they're for real, so lay off the whacky baccy."
Scooby has by now swam several hundred yards downstream, aided by the current.
He hasn't noticed the small, mushroom-shaped shelter on the bank, or the array of rods fanned out on the banks.
In the gloom, he doesn't see the 12lbs Maxima stretching across the river and snags it with his camera.
Clack, weee-eee-eee-eee-eee-eeeh
"Happy days are here again, it's haulin' time for Disco Dave," sings the lithe figure which bursts from the bivvy and bounds gracefully down the bank.
As he feels the line and slams the rod back, a 3oz lead and a small bleak impaled on a pair of hand-made double hooks fly through the water and impale themselves in a furry backside.
"Come on then, come to Uncle Disco," smiles the angler, bending in until the line sings in the breeze.
"OOOBY DOOBY EE-YEEEEEEEEOW....."
A yelp of pain and the screen goes blank in Mission Control.
"Oh no," sobs Shaggy. "It got him."
"Don't be stupid hippy," snaps Thelma. "He's probably just swum into the bank or something, haul your butt out there and go look for him."
Hundreds of yards away, Scooby Doo struggles to fight the burning sensation in his backside, which seems to be dragging him inexorably towards the bank.
"Oh my beauty, oh my beauty, come to Disco," says the angler as he reaches for the landing net.
The water boils in the glow of a head torch. But instead of the expected double figure zed, a large dog's backside appears, followed by the front end of an extremely angry dog.
"Blimey Lads, I'm out of here - it's Black Shuck...!"
Running down the floodbank, the angler runs straight into Shaggy, who is combing the riverbank for any sign of his four legged pal.
"Er, don't I know you from somehere..?" he says, as they dust themselves off.
"Blimey, you're the bloke off Scooby Doo."
"Uh, yeah man, we're, like uh, hunting the walleyed pike to prove they exist for, like, the BBC.
"We'll, uh, get to come back for a new series if we can pull it off.
"Our dog's in there somewhere with a camera strapped to his back but we, uh, think it's just, like, eaten him."
"Jeepers, fella, I thought he was Black Shuck."
"Uh, negative man, he's kinda yellow coloured."
"Trust a seasoned zed head mate, there's no such thing as a walleyed pike. But I wouldn't go near your dog for an hour or two all the same."
"Uh, why not, uh, man..?"
"Mate, I just stuck two size eights in his arse and he ain't too pleased at present."