The return from Oakhaven should have been a victory lap. We had successfully out-mystered Mystery Inc., preserved the "Low-Stakes" mandate, and Danny Fenton had finally earned a "not-bad" from Sam Manson. But as the "Possible" shuttle pulled into the Middleton High parking lot, the sound that met us wasn't the school bell.
It was a long, mournful, and distinctly canine howl.
"Sheila," I said, rubbing my temples as the "Campbell" headache began to throb. "Tell me Jimmy and Barry were just testing a new sound system."
["I have some news, Danny, and the 'Liability' is off the charts,"] Sheila replied. ["Jimmy and Barry attempted to create a 'Short-Cut' teleportation relay between the gym and the cafeteria. At the exact moment of activation, Principal Barkin was walking through the gym doors, and Scooby-Doo—who had 'snuck' into the van for a nap—was in the cafeteria looking for the 'Mystery Casserole.' The resulting 'Trans-Molecular Personality Swap' was... 100% efficient."]
"Oh, no."
We burst into the hallway to find a scene of absolute, surreal chaos.
Principal Barkin—or rather, the man inhabiting Barkin's body—was currently on all fours in front of the vending machine, scratching at his ear with his foot and whimpering at a bag of pretzels. "Ree! Retzels! Rake! Rake!"
"Barkin! Get up!" Kim yelled, her eyes wide with horror. "You can't... you can't do that in the West Wing!"
"Ruh-roh!" Barkin-Scooby yelped, scrambling away and trying to hide behind a tiny potted fern.
At the same time, from the cafeteria, a very tall, brown Great Dane wearing a green collar marched out. He was walking on his hind legs, his chest puffed out, and he was holding a clipboard in his teeth. He stopped in front of a group of terrified freshmen.
"Mmph! Mmph-mmph!" Scooby-Barkin muffled through the clipboard, before dropping it and letting out a sharp, military-grade bark. "DETENTION! THREE WEEKS! ASSUME THE BRACE POSITION!"
"It's a Neural-Swap Feedback Loop!" Jimmy Neutron shouted, running out of the lab with Barry, both of them looking scorched. "The 'Anchor' energy in the town acted as a conductor! Their psyches have been perfectly inverted! Barkin is a Great Dane with a thirst for snacks, and Scooby is a military-obsessed principal with a Great Dane's appetite!"
"It's fascinating!" Barry added, adjusting his cracked glasses. "The Great Dane's olfactory senses combined with Barkin's tactical mind makes for the world's most efficient hall-monitor!"
"Fix it!" I yelled, watching as Barkin-Scooby began to chase his own tail in the middle of the hallway. "Pips! Protocol: 'The Brain-Scan'!"
Pips phased out of my pocket, looking at the two 'Barkin-Doos' with a series of digital chirrups that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"Pips, this isn't funny!" I hissed. "Merge with the teleporter. We need to reverse the polarity and trigger a 'Recall' signal. But we need to get them both into the gym at the same time."
"I've got Barkin!" Ben said, slamming the Omnitrix. "Wildmutt!"
The blind, orange alien let out a roar and began to 'herd' the whimpering Barkin-Scooby toward the gym.
"I'll handle the Principal-Dog!" Kim said, pulling out a bag of 'Scooby-Snacks' she'd confiscated from Shaggy earlier. "Hey, Scooby-Barkin! You want a... a 'Merit Badge'?"
Scooby-Barkin's ears perked up. He let out a sharp "Wuff!" and began to follow Kim with military precision.
The team gathered in the gym. Jimmy and Barry were frantically recalibrating the two 'Teleport-Pads.' Pips merged with the central console, his green-and-white circuitry glowing as he stabilized the 'Neural-Bridge.'
"Ready?" I yelled.
"Neural-Mapping at 99%!" Jimmy shouted. "Barry, hit the 'Undo' button!"
ZAP.
A flash of violet and gold light filled the gym. For a second, I saw a silhouette of a man with a dog's head and a dog with a man's head—a 'Possible' nightmare I'm going to need therapy for later—before the world snapped back to normal.
Principal Barkin stood up, dusting off his suit and looking profoundly confused. "What... what just happened? Why do I have a sudden, overwhelming urge to chase a mail truck?"
Scooby-Doo tumbled onto the floor, shaking his head. "Rikes! That was a ruff day!"
"Localized... uh... static electricity, sir," I said, stepping forward. "A 'Field-Study' experiment with high-voltage carpet fibers. We've neutralized the charge."
Barkin squinted at me, then at the Great Dane. "Possible... if I see that dog in this school again, I'm going to personally see to it that you're 'swapped' into the remedial history class for the next century. Understood?"
"Crystal clear, sir."
As Barkin stomped away (still walking with a slight, rhythmic trot), the Mystery Inc. crew arrived. Shaggy looked at Scooby, then at the 'Possible' team. "Like, Scoob! Did you find the snacks?"
"Reah!" Scooby laughed. "But the 'Service' was ruff!"
As the Mystery Machine finally pulled away from Middleton—hopefully for good this time—the team gathered in the parking lot.
"That," T.J. Detweiler said, "was the greatest thing I have ever seen. Barkin scratching his ear? I'm going to be dining on that story for years."
I looked at the 'Low-Stakes' meter. 15%. A bit high, but the secret was safe.
But the romance sub-plots were currently 'Reversing Polarity' as well.
Jenny walked up to me, her eyes a soft, pulsing cyan. "Danny? When Pips was scanning the neural-swap, I caught a glimpse of your 'Subconscious' data. It turns out that even when your brain is being threatened by a 'Great Dane' frequency, your 'Priority One' is still... me."
I felt the flush creep up my neck. I reached out and took Jenny's metal hand. "You're my 'Anchor,' Jenny. Whether I'm a principal, a dog, or a guy with a robot pet."
Jenny smiled, her internal cooling fans letting out a happy hum.
Meanwhile, Cyd was laughing as she watched Ben try to explain to Ellie why he'd chosen 'Wildmutt' for the herding mission. "You just wanted to bark at the Principal, didn't you?"
"Maybe a little," Ben admitted, grinning.
I looked at the team. The Middleton crew, the Amity crew, the Retroville geniuses, the Disney time-travelers, and the 'Recess' legends. We were a mess. We were a disaster. We were the most overqualified group of teenagers in history.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
["Danny,"] Sheila's voice rang in my ear. ["I've updated the dossier. New Entry: 'Interspecies Psychology.' Also, Principal Barkin just ordered ten cases of 'High-Protein Dog Treats' for his office. He says they're for 'Survival Training,' but I think we both know the truth."]
"Low-stakes, Sheila. Low-stakes."
The End of the First Semester.