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)