Wednesday, 6 January 2016

Speculative lyrics of a theme song for an as-yet unmade Scooby Doo cartoon

1969 Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc.

(Surf guitar)

Scooby Dooby Doo,
We search high and low
North, South, East and West,
to the four corners of the known world
and to the farthest reaches of the universe beyond
for your whereabouts,
for we require your assistance
Scooby Dooby Doo,
scion of Bartholomew Doo
of the noble Doo lineage.

It is regarding the matter
of a haunted fairground
and your tried and tested
methods of distracting
a pursuing monster
by way of improvising,
for example,
a scene from a barbers shop,
and convincing your tormentor,
be they ghost, mutant, or robot,
that they are in need of a trim,
before spraying shaving foam
in their face,
and running away,
so fast that,
for a few seconds,
your feet struggle to
find traction on the ground.

Or, if not a barbers shop,
then an Italian restaurant,
serving gigantic platters
of spaghetti and meatballs,
where you and your
stoner friend, Shaggy
are momentarily waiters.

We need your ability
to evacuate a
haunted ski resort
as part of a massive
ever-growing snowball

We are depending upon your talent
for concealing yourself in one
of a row of large vases,
only to reappear from
the neck of a different vase,
and to perform a similar trick
with the drawers of filing cabinets.

(15 minute trumpet fanfare)

Velma will be on hand
to ask the hard questions,
which are not your forte:

Why would a swamp monster
require bi-focal reading glasses
and leave behind
footprints in green paint?”

we need you to
lift our spirits
by pronouncing
the name of the
actor, Mark Ruffalo
as “Rark Ruffalo.”

That never gets old.

We have Scooby Snacks,
whatever they are
- some kind of bespoke
biscuit tailored to your
specific nutritional needs, maybe.

Also, an improbably tall sandwich.

Scooby Dooby Dooby Doo,
are you mere dog?

a lab experiment
gifted with the
power of human speech?

a diluted Nordic myth?

the lingering residue
of a hard acid trip?

Or allegory for man,
as he unwillingly confronts
his basest terrors
in the most cowardly
manner imaginable.

(Surf guitar)

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