Original subtitles

"The shrieking madness of char-gar gothakon:

The beast that hath no name"?

You're actually reading this?

The Professor is a great writer.

His stuff is spooky.

Hatecraft is a total fake.

He says he's just writing...

what demons from dark dimensions tell him.

Please!

How do you know they're not true?

Um, because I have a brain?

Wait until Harlan Ellison speaks here next week.

He's a real writer.

He'll set you bozos straight about hatecraft.

Later.

"Char-gar gothakon: The beast that hath no name."

How can Professor hatecraft name the creature in the title,

then say it has no name.

Ridiculous.

Ohh! What is that smell?

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Uhh!

Uhh! Please!

Uhh! Aah!

Hello!

Please. Please!

Aah!

Sync by mczolly www.addic7ed.com

Now, daph, chin up.

Spending some time away from your little mystery club...

will do you some good.

Stop by the building we paid for,

and if you see any professors,

remind them your sisters...

all graduated from darrow university...

by the time they were 13.

I'm only visiting this school because you want me to, mom.

What if darrow isn't for me?

A college good enough for the other Blake girls...

isn't good enough for you?

Ha ha ha! Oh, Daphne,

sometimes I wish we would have had a boy.

Fred, go straight to my old fraternity...

and drop my name.

They have to let you in,

no matter how much you talk about traps.

Man, it feels weird being here without the gang.

Things sure have been pretty rough...

since shaggy and velma broke up.

By grabthar's hammer, Fred,

the Rogers kid chose a dog over a girl.

What's he thinking? This isn't some reality show.

Now, I dreamed of the day...

you'd be humiliated by my fraternity.

Don't blow this for me.

I can't believe I'm here the same day...

as my favorite author.

Do you think Harlan Ellison...

will sign all my copies of his books?

I knew Harlan back in the day.

Just tell him Cape Cod dinkley sent you.

He'll sign.

But, like, the best thing about darrow university...

is the burger place on campus.

They're known everywhere for their burgers.

And the French fries, onion rings, and shakes.

Try not to embarrass us, please.

Better yet, just don't tell them your last name.

Mu gamma tau.

Mu are you?

Um, hi. I'm Fred Jones Jr.

My dad was a mu gamma toe... tau... uh, toe.

Fred! I'm rhino.

Guys, this is Fred Jones Jr.

His dad was mu legend... Fred Jones.

What?!

I thought Fred Jones was a myth.

I heard he ate a live bear.

So, uh, what do you guys do here,

study? Party? Make traps?

Amateur hour. When you're in college,

male, and ripped, there's only one thing to do.

Wrestle!

Go get him, Randy!

The Blake family center for self-named buildings.

Hmm.

No longer will they ignore your people!

Are you with me?!

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Are you with me?!

Uh...Yes?

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight...

What are we fighting?

There it is, scoob!

I can already taste the legends.

Burgers, fries, onion rings!

Wow! We're really here.

Ahem. Uh, bring us, like, your most famous food, please.

It's the way I always dreamed it.

It's the way I've always smelled it.

Ahh.

Eew!

These aren't burgers.

We changed management last week.

Now we're organic vegan.

Those are pureed sprouts and wheat gluten.

Yuck!

Ucchh!

And that's why...

there hasn't been anything good written...

since the 1970s.

Thank you.

Ok, questions.

My name is Howard e. Roberts,

and my favorite writer is one of our professors,

and I was wondering if you could compare your work...

to his masterpiece, "the shrieking madness of char-gar gotha... "...

You mean h.P. Hatecraft?

An intesting scribbler, yes,

no doubt.

But minor.

And that's being kind.

That's not true.

He's a brilliant writer...

who understands the dark creatures of other dimensions.

I perceive in you, young sir,

one who hears nothing...

but the sound of the win...

blowing across the empty desert...

that lies between your ears.

Hatecraft is, at best,

a literary fraud, a con man.

At worst, a dirt smear in the diaper of literature.

Mr. Ellison?

Yes, dear. I can only sign so fast, you know.

Velma dinkley, sir.

I'm a huge fan of your work,

and the themes you explore in...

Dinkley? Not by any happy chance...

a relation to Cape Cod dinkley, an old friend of mine?

My mother.

Oh, holy bradbury.

You must give her a kiss for me.

And thank her for the chicken soup.

Jinkies! I will!

It was great meeting you. Thanks so much.

My pleasure.

Oh, by the way,

jinkies is not actually a word.

Hatecraft this, hatecraft that...

Perhaps someone could ask me about my own latest work...

once in a while.

Uhh...Uhh!

Aah!

It sounds like someone's in trouble.

- Help! - Huh?

Help! Somebody please help me, already! Help!

Uhh! Uhh! Aah! Aah!

Aah!

I've changed my mind!

Maybe that food's is not so bad!

Mr. Ellison, are you ok?

Ok?! I've been violated...

by a figment of a fantasist's fabricated falsehood...

for the sole function of fame and fortune.

Oh, like, that is a lot of fa..Fa...

Really?

Is it "like" that?

What if, like, like...

were used in, like, its proper grammatical form...

and not, like, as a conversational pause,

like every third, like, word?

Boy, what got him so upset?

Maybe he wouldn't be so mad if he saw this.

A copy of hatecraft's book,

"char-gar gothakon: The beast that hath no name."

Someone's read this a lot.

There's all kinds of sentences underlined.

Ucch. And it smells like old clam chowder...

being gargled by a seal.

But why would a monster carry a book about himself around with him?

I want to meet this Professor hatecraft for myself.

Professor hatecraft?

Professor hatecraft?

Hello? Professor hatecraft?

Your door was open.

With all these books, you'd think this guy...

could, like, afford a maid.

Ohh! Ohh...

It's just a statue, beef brains,

of a character from another one of hatecraft's books.

Breaking news. This just in.

Campus police say they have no leads...

on today's theft of the darrow family archives...

from the university library.

Professor hatecraft?

Ooh! By the tendrils of shap-shap sumagurath,

you frightened me.

We're sorry, Professor.

We're big fans who wanted to meet you.

Well, now's not a good time.

It's like the wrath of fung fard hargenflog...

has descended upon me.

I hope I haven't released char-gar gothakon on the world.

What do you mean?

My work... translating the demon-summoning chants...

written in these evil tomes,

which my student assistant alphabetizes for me.

You think, like, everything you're writing...

is actually happening?

Dark forces are at work in this very home,

and I fear I may have inadvertently opened a portal...

to an alternate dimension.

That's bad, right?

Stop! You might accidentally unleash another demon.

Oh. That's just fan mail. Never mind.

A lot of these seem to be in the same handwriting.

My fans are very dedicated.

Now, if you will excuse me,

I sense messages...

from another universe coming on.

Well, what do you say, gang?

Do we stay together and keep working to solve this mystery?

Is that a no?

What are you doing here?

This place is vegan.

There's nowhere else to eat...

for, like, miles.

Yeah. We're so hungry, we'd even eat vegetables.

Whoa...Ooh!

Sorry. My friends were wrestling.

My new brothers are gonna teach me a move...

called happy tapioca.

I don't know what it is, but apparently, uh,

I'll be blindfolded and submerged into pudding.

See ya around.

Ha ha! Yeah!

I can't wait to get you out of here.

Hey, good job.

Ahem.

Blehh!

You said it, scoob. Please pass the salt.

Aah!

Char-gar gothakon!

Aah...

Like, run!

Aah!

Aah! Just because I'm letting you save me...

doesn't mean I forgive you.

Tapioca! Tapioca!

So, what construct of the man...

are we going to go after next, Ernesto?

Don't worry, comrade Daphne,

our true calling will present itself soon.

In the meantime, pick something from the list of protestables.

It's fun.

Rice crackers, schwarma,

old person smell?

Can you even protest that?

I don't know, but someone should.

Ohh!

Professor hatecraft, you have to run!

Char-gar gothakon is at the campus burger!

Wait. Were you spying on us?

Yes. I wanted to see if you were telling the truth,

and by the talons of feng shui nabiscus,

you were! I have no choice now...

but to reveal the terrible, dark truth...

about char-gar gothakon.

I know you've heard the rumors...

of a sighting on campus last night...

of a monster from one of my novels,

but I want to set the record straight.

My writings, as Mr. Ellison said the other day,

are a fraud.

There is no char-gar gothakon.

I made the whole thing up.

It can't be true!

Who is forcing you to lie like this, Professor hatecraft?

This is not a lie. I am telling the truth.

I perpetuated the myth to sell books...

and to gain access to the lucrative world of plushy monster toys.

I am so sorry.

Ignore him!

We are the ones telling the truth!

Monsters deserve equality.

Char-gar gothakon should not be silenced.

And here's a song to tell you why.

now what do we do? No one's listening to a word we say.

There's only one tng we can do...

Build a trap.

And I can't do it alone.

what's going on?

Ohh!

Uh, I think we made our point.

The protest is over. Aah!

So what do you say, gang?

Are we gonna solve this mystery or not?

Aah!

Aah!

Somebody save me!

Professor hatecraft?

Ooh! Help!

We'll never find him if we don't split up.

Ok. I guess that means we go... huh?

Oh, come on.

Wow! I can't wait to be an adult.

You can have so much cool stuff...

that has that awesome old person smell.

Here. You might need this for the trap.

Great find, daph.

Hey, you know, we make a pretty good team, don't we?

Uh-huh. It's like we know each other's thoughts.

Yeah! Hey, guess what I'm thinking now.

Well, are you thinking about me?

Ha! Gotcha! I'm not thinking about anything.

My mind is a complete void.

Good try, though.

Thanks.

I thought shaggy was right behind us.

Huh? You worried?

Oh, who am I kidding?

It's like he's a part of me.

Even though he left me for you.

I'm sorry.

Scooby! Velma! Help!

It's shaggy!

Something jumped off the shelf at me...

and had, like, a tentacle.

It's not a tentacle.

It's a strap for someone's book bag.

They look like stories.

Listen to this title.

"The dreaded beast goo-goo gaga."

Eew! Yuck!

They've got that same smell.

It's like a baboon smoking a cigar...

while bathing in a bath of moldy tuna...

and curdled ranch dressing.

Hey! Let me out!

Aah!

Thank goodness!

Trapped inside with all of hatecraft's lousy books,

it's like being in his version of the underworld.

Who put you in here?

The guy with all the tentacles.

What's his name?

Char-gar gothakon!

Stay away, you demon!

The Professor!

Help! Help me!

Help!

Help me! Aah!

We've got to distract it.

Hatecraft's monsters are only summoned by chanting.

Follow me.

Whoa! Aah!

Char-gar gothakon...

Char-gar gothakon...

Don't chant at it, hit it!

Uhh!

Ohh!

Aah!

Help!

Aah!

Like, you don't hear many monsters from other dimensions...

scream for help.

This is no monster.

It's Howard e. Roberts,

hatecraft's student assistant and biggest fan.

Just as I suspected.

Suspected how?

Think about it. We found a book written by hatecraft,

with sentences underlined that smelled like char-gar gothakon.

Of course it was me.

Someone had to defend the Professor against his critics.

And what better way than to dress as his greatest creation?

Fortunately, I'd taken a class...

in the military application of sonic shriek technology...

at the learning annex.

Although, in retrospect, it might not have been a good idea...

to glue real octopus legs to my face.

Ah, so that was the smell!

But when hatecraft admitted he made it up?

That's when he had to fall.

And he would have, too,

if it weren't for the dark elder forces...

conspiring in the inky black of time most foul!

Oh. And you meddling kids.

H.P., are you all right?

Harlan. Yes. Just an overeager fan who got carried away.

Fans. Imbeciles fit only to be gnawed by rabid rats.

Yes. Someone could write a book.

How about, "a boy and his fans,"...

by Harlan Ellison and h.P. Hatecraft?

I was thinking something more along the lines of,

"shavu-ra hatafar,

the fan that had no name."

Except, uh, you just named it.

Don't start with me, Ellison.

You know, I'm glad we don't have to go to college just yet.

Yeah. It'll be good to get home...

and back to solving mysteries.

As a team?

Absolutely. The way it should be.

Huh?

Darrow university library darrow family archives?

Wait. Aren't those the archives the news said were stolen?

Mr. e! Huh. Open it.

Ooh. Carefully.

If the first mystery inc. Had what's inside this trunk,

maybe they never would have vanished in the first place.

Wow!

This looks like the entire history of crystal cove.

Gang, I think one mystery just turned into two.

Hmm.

Sync by mczolly www.addic7ed.com

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