All language subtitles for Scooby-Doo! and the Gourmet Ghost

You're all loaded up,
Chef Edward, sir.

- Ready to go.
- Thank you, Thomas.

Here, for later.

It's elderberry pie.

Oh, thank you, Chef Edward.

Oh, my gosh, is that...

Chef Edward's elderberry pie?

- Give me some of that!
- I love your casserole, Chef Edward.

Hello, Chef Edward.

You're the greatest,
Mr. DuFlay.

What's cooking tonight,
Chef Edward?

We love you, Chef Edward.

Can't wait to see what
you'll cook tonight, Chef DuFlay.

Everyone is intimidated by a shark. Become
a Card Shark AMERICASCARDROOM.COM

Ah!

Please!

Beware. Beware.

Beware!

Red Ghost,
Red Ghost, Red Ghost!

Gee, Freddie, it sure was nice of your
uncle to invite us to stay at his inn.

I can't wait to see what
he's done with the place.

It's been in the family
for generations.

According to Old Newport Cove
by Henry Metcalf,

the Rocky Harbor Inn
has been vacant since 1780,

when the original owner disappeared
under mysterious circumstances.

Oh, man, I wish we could go
one weekend

without mysterious circumstances
and disappearing acts.

Are you with me, Scoob?

Like, speaking of
disappearing acts,

Scooby-Doo, where are you?

The only thing disappearing
around here is our lunch.

Well, that's just
great, Scoob.

Now we're all gonna starve.

Don't worry, gang. I'm sure my Uncle
Bobby won't let us go hungry.

Ooh, can he cook?

The "Rocky Harbor
Culinary Resort"?

I'll take that
as a yes!

Freddie.

Hey, Uncle Bobby.

This is the gang.

Gang, this is my uncle,

Bobby Flay.

"Culinary Resort," of course.

Exactly the kind of place you'd
expect to find a world-famous chef.

World-famous?

Don't tell us you've never
heard of Bobby Flay?

Of course, I have.

He's my uncle. I just
introduced you.

Chef Bobby Flay.

I bet you can cook
just about anything.

Well, I...
I wouldn't say that.

- Lamb chops?
- Well, yes, I can cook lamb chops.

Herb-crusted?

Yeah, I can do herb-crusted.

With a balsamic reduction
served on a silky smooth

Red Norland puree?

Sure. I'd probably swap the potatoes
for a creamy garlic Parmesan.

Or a Chevre Noir polenta.

Or, even a simple warm
heirloom tomato vinaigrette.

He must have fainted.

Should I get
some smelling salts?

No, he'll just eat them.

Lobster.

Oh, sorry. No, that's...
That's Nacho's.

Um, sorry, Uncle B,

but I think Scoob and I know
the difference between

lobsters and nachos.

Lobster nachos!

Like, yum! Write that down.

No, sorry. I mean this lobster
belongs to Nacho.

Nacho Flay, my cat.

And for the record, those are
grilled blue lobster tails,

drizzled with lemon-basil
butter, and garlic chives.

I can make some for you guys.
Or anything you want, really.

Oh, yeah.
I think they like it here.

Come on, gang.

The whole north wing,
including this lobby

is a faithful recreation
of the 18th-century inn.

So the old inn was closed down
during the American Revolution?

Yup. And since then, it's been
completely vacant.

Except for
the occasional spider.

Spider?

All right, if there are
no more questions,

- let's move on to the...
- I have a question.

- What is it, Shaggy?
- Can you make beef Wellington?

I meant questions
about the inn.

All right, okay. Well, uh, beef Wellington's
a complex and time-consuming dish

to prepare.
But, yeah, I've made it.

Sorry, I meant, will you make
beef Wellington...

- Like, right now?
- Shaggy!

What? We don't hang around
a lot of chefs.

I wanna make sure
we get our money's worth.

We're not paying any money.

Good idea. Listen, pal,

we're not paying till
we see the beef Wellington.

Okay. Moving on.

Whose portrait is this?

That's the original owner. Our
great, great, great, great, great...

Let's just say,

really great-uncle,
Chef Edward DuFlay.

"Chef"? You mean, it runs
in the family?

From what I've read, people
around here still call him

the world's first
celebrity chef.

Has the restoration of the inn yielded any
clues about Uncle Edward's disappearance?

We hope.
But so far, not a thing.

Whew. Thank you.

Why do you call it
a culinary resort?

The answer, Daphne,
is just through these doors.

It's time to check out
the really cool stuff.

This is where
the magic happens.

Welcome to
the cooking arena.

Jeepers.

Whoa!

Nirvana!

Yeah!

So the Rocky Harbor
isn't just an inn.

- It's a...
- A state-of-the-art,

kitchen fantasy camp, designed
to make cooking easy and fun.

Like, dude, who said that?

That's the interactive
computer program that keeps

everything in the place
running.

- Thanks, Rocky.
- You're very welcome, Bobby.

In here, guests can experiment
with their own recipes,

or learn techniques from
some of my pals.

Oh, man!

Is that Giada De Laurentiis?

Ow!

Yup. And the lovely
Bella De Laurentiis.

And those are
Chef Marcus Samuelsson

and his supermodel wife,
Maya Haile.

Hey, Shaggy, didn't you
meet them once?

Yeah. It was the best day
of my life.

So, uh, Maya, I've read that
at home, your roles are reversed.

It's true.

He's the chef, yet I do
all the cooking at home.

But I do all
the supermodeling at home.

So it evens out.

- Next.
- Hey, there,

who should we sign
this out to?

Wait, this is not
our book.

It's Giada's book!
Really?

Could you have her make it out to Shaggy?
With love.

Shaggy!

Ooh! Mr. Taylor, first of
all, I just love your show.

Second, is it true that the
fork should always be placed

to the left of the plate?

- No!
- Uh, actually, Skip,

- that is true.
- Says who?

Me, Bobby Flay.
I own this place.

Oh, my gosh! Sorry, Bobby!

I'm a little out of it.

Haven't slept in days.

- Not since the Red Ghos...
- All right, Skip. That's enough.

Back to it.

Okay, cadets,

let's discuss the proper way to
spit gross stuff into your napkin.

Now, we put the, oh...

That is terrible.
Really terrible.

Are these the old ones?

These are terrible.

Oh, that's...

Hey, Uncle Bobby, what was
Skip Taylor talking about?

Well, sometimes you don't like
the way something tastes

and if you have
a napkin handy...

No, he means,
"Not since the Red..."

Yeah! "Red" what?

I... I have no idea.

Oh, okay, uh, who wants to go
taste a nine-cheese souffle?

Cheese!

Who doesn't love cheese?

Cheese!

How is everything, gang?

Incredible.

I'm stuffed.

Well, I think Shaggy
and Scooby are in hog heaven.

More hog.

Heavenly.

Wow! These two can really eat.

Um, don't you think
you guys should slow down?

Not if we're gonna finish
all this before bed!

Enjoy it now, guys,
'cause starting tomorrow,

like all the rest
of the guests here,

we'll be cooking
our own meals.

- Huh?
- Huh?

Are you gonna coach us,
Uncle B?

No. As we say in the biz,
my plate's full.

So, you'll be working with
my sous-chef

or, my second-in-command.

- But I should warn you...
- Who's there?

Kids, this is
the groundskeeper,

Jeremiah Noseworthy.

It's "Nosay-worthy."

"Nosay," from the Latin.

Why would it be "Nose"?

Huh?

Um...

Uh, hello, Mr. Nosay-worthy.

I'm Fred, and this is Daphne,
Velma...

A little late for a barbecue.

We were just finishing up.

Oh, see that you do.

Unless you want him
to get you, too.

- "Him" who?
- Oh.

Didn't young Flay here
tell you then?

- Jeremiah, there's no need to say...
- Oh, you're right.

There's no need.
Not now.

You're doomed already.

Wait, didn't I fire you today?

Oh, indeed.

Yeah, I've lived here me whole
life, you know.

Born right there in that
little cottage I sleep in now.

I told you, you can stay
in the cottage, rent-free.

But no more scaring away
the guests.

No! Got to make way
for progress.

'Course, we'll see how long
progress lasts,

now that the Red Ghost is back.

Ah, good night, now.
Sweet dreams.

- "Red Ghost"?
- It's just a silly legend.

New England runs
on old ghost stories.

Well, if there's one thing
we understand,

it's legends
and ghost stories.

Uh, that's two things.

Plus counting.

So, four things.

Come on, Bobby,
spill the beans.

Also,
pass the beans, please.

Well, when Chef Edward
disappeared back in 1780,

he was alone in the inn.

People outside swore
they heard him cry out,

"Red Ghost, Red Ghost,"
over and over.

And no one ever saw him again?

Apparently not.

So, the legend of the Red
Ghost that haunts the inn

was passed down here
in tiny Newport Cove.

To superstitious people
like Noseworthy.

"Nosay-worthy."

Which explains why the place
sat vacant for two centuries.

Of course, it's just a story.

- But since we opened...
- Let me guess.

The Red Ghost has appeared.

Well, that's what
some people say.

But I haven't seen it.

I only believe what I can see
with my own two eyes.

You're right, I should pipe down
and let you kids get to bed.

Anybody want a doggy bag?
I'm looking at you, Scooby.

I brought my own.

Like, ditto.

Nice.

Come on, gang.
We better get inside.

Huh!

Hey, boys,
you forgot your doggy bags.

Who can eat? All I can think
about is that Red Ghost.

Yeah.

Red Ghost.

Oh, you scaredy-cats.
That's just an old myth.

You always say that.

And then we end up running
for our lives.

I think the only thing you two have to be
scared of this weekend is indigestion.

Good night, boys.

Gee, Scooby-Doo, all this
talk about indigestion's

making me hungry.

- Me, too.
- You know what, Scoob,

I'm not going to let
any ghost keep me

from my leftovers.

What the...

Oh, oops!

Sorry.

Like, man, I hope
that kitchen's still open.

I'm starved.

Mmm-mmm.

Be careful, Scoob.

We need to be quiet,
so we don't wake anyone.

- Shh.
- Hmm?

That's right, shh.

Huh?

Shh.

- Hmm?
- You got it, Scoob, old buddy.

We gotta keep it down.

- Huh?
- You know, Scoob, I get it,

but could you "shush"
a little softer?

Me? That was you.

This is no time for games,
Scooby-Doo, I'm famished.

That's right, Scoob,
shush, I get it.

Don't worry,
I think we're here.

Ah!

Mmm.

Sorry, Scoob.

That's nach-yours.

Get it?

It's nach-yours, either!

I thought you didn't share.

Don't worry, Nacho.
We won't tell.

Yeah.

We should hit the hay, Scoob.

Night, Nacho.

Shh.

Yeah, we know, Nacho,
mum's the word.

Nacho makes a tasty sandwich,
right, Scoob?

Delicious.

Hurry up, guys.
The sous-chef's on her way.

She's going to help us prepare
for breakfast

while Bobby preps
for the big show tonight.

Big show?

He's doing a live TV broadcast
to promote the resort

from right here
in the cooking arena.

He'll be live
from coast to coast,

cooking dinner with
the whole country.

And all the chefs here
will be lending a hand.

That's terrific.

I haven't met one chef here
that we don't like.

I am sous-chef

Chef Sue.

Anyone joke about name,
I lock in freezer.

Oh, well,
I wish we could help.

We like our eggs runny
and our sausage plentiful.

Call us when it's ready.

Wait just a minute. Where do
you two think you're going?

Giada De Laurentiis asked
Scoob and me

to be guest speakers for her class
on giant sandwich architecture.

You guys will say anything
to get out of work.

It's true.

No leave. Stay!

Uh... Honest guys,

the sandwich-making dog
said he would be here.

Tonight, the whole world will
be watching live, as we go

inside Newport Cove's new
culinary resort,

honoring its most famous
ancestor,

Revolutionary War hero,
Chef Edward DuFlay.

I'm joined now by
the longtime groundskeeper

here at
the Rocky Harbor Estate,

Mr. Jeremiah Noseworthy.

It's "Nosay"... Oh, right.

So I bet you know everything
about this place.

When we finally get a peek
inside, what do you think

will surprise people the most?

Oh, I'm glad you asked.
Let me think.

- Well...
- It's a lie!

A big fat lie!

There's always,
"that war hero"!

Edward DuFlay was no hero.

He was a traitor, he was.

A vile, disreputable,
low-down traitor!

Okay, um, we're having some... Mic problems.

So, let's take a quick break.

I'm checking out.

I'm useless. I can't sleep.

This Red Ghost thing has me
on pins and needles.

You know how scared
I am of ghosts!

And the color red!

Someone will be with you
in just a second.

You think I'm overreacting,
don't you?

Well, I'm sorry,

but the thought of a Red Ghost on
the loose has me all out of sorts.

My nerves
are totally frayed.

I mean, look at me.

I'm talking to a cat!

I know,
you're right,

I should just take my bags
back to my room,

lie down for a bit.
Let my head clear.

Don't worry, Bob-O, Nacho
talked me into staying.

Good kitty.

Sorry, we're a little
understaffed today.

Do you have, uh, reservations?

About this place? Not one.

Bradley Bass.
I'm in real estate.

I have to tell you, Mr. Flay, you and
your furry friend there are sitting

- on a gold mine.
- Maybe.

Okay, uh, Bass.

Oh, here we go. We've got you
in the north wing. Room 113.

I'll call someone to help
you with your bag...

Oh, no! No, no.
No, that's all right.

I have it.

Bobby, quick. Something
is happening in the arena.

Nyet, nyet, nyet!

Zoinks!

Nyet!

What's going on?

Well, first,
we were chopping onions...

And they eat.

Then,
we were chopping parsley...

And they eat!

Like, man, every great cook
tastes his ingredients.

- Right, Uncle B?
- That's right.

Not just "taste."

They eat all the onion
and all the parsley.

And two pounds
raw biscuit dough.

Okay.

Uh, Sue, why don't you, uh, go
make some more biscuit dough?

And as for you two...

Henry Metcalf!

- Huh?
- He literally wrote the book

on Chef Edward
and the Rocky Harbor Inn.

Oh, my goodness.

Aunt Nancy will be tickled
pink to hear that someone

finally bought a copy
of that book.

Actually,
it's from the library.

- Oh.
- Uh, Henry's been helping out a lot with the restoration.

I bet you know even more about
this place than old Noseworthy.

I saw him on the news.

The gall! Calling Chef Edward
a traitor. The man was a hero.

And not just to the Colonials,
even the British loved him.

And we were at war.

He was that good a cook?

And more, which is actually
why I'm here.

Bobby...

Oh, oh, dear. Excuse me.

Nancy keeps at me
to get rid of this thing.

Half the time, I don't know
what it's buzzing about.

Uh, now, oh, yes, yes.

Bobby, I have a gift for you.

To celebrate
your big show tonight.

Everyone knows your
Uncle Edward was a hero

but few understand why.

You see, in a
time of great civil discord,

when the politics
of independence

turned neighbor
against neighbor,

brother against brother,

Chef Edward hung a sign on the
door of this inn that said...

- "All are welcome."
- Yes.

At the height of the war, you'd
see Colonial, French, and yes,

even British soldiers
in here.

Well, not in here, exactly.

Bobby, you've done amazing
things with this place.

But so did your uncle.

Did you know
he invented takeout?

You're kidding. Oh, my hero.

Mmm. Takeout.

Any soldier who dined at the inn,
Chef would, as a personal thank you,

make him wrap up morsels
for the road.

Anything that could
be warmed up over a campfire.

- Parchment?
- Chef Edward's parchment.

This belonged to Uncle Edward?
How do you know?

It's a monogram. "E-D-F."
Hmm.

Oh, Edward DuFlay!

If only he'd written something
on them.

A recipe or two?

Oh, he did more than that.

These are the very sheets he used to
wrap up takeout morsels for soldiers.

They were entrusted to me.

And now,
I entrust them to you.

Henry, I mean, I don't know
what to say.

Say you'll
break a leg tonight.

And give your great-uncle
and this place

- the tribute they deserve.
- I promise.

Hey, why don't you and your
wife sit with us tonight?

Thank you.
We wouldn't miss it.

Oh, blast it,

that's probably her now.

I'll see
you all tonight.

What a sweet old man.

Couldn't have got this place
up and running without him.

Speaking of up and running,

where are Shaggy and Scooby?

Nyet, nyet, nyet!

It is indeed
a star-studded night here

in little Newport Cove,
Rhode Island.

I'm with one of tonight's
featured players,

Chef Giada De Laurentiis.

Giada, this is huge.

It's a really great turnout.
And a fun way to show off

the amazing new Rocky Harbor
Culinary Resort.

What's in store?

State-of-the-art kitchens
like you've never seen.

Automated appliances,
indoor sustainable gardens,

and more. All designed to make
gourmet cooking a destination.

So everyone inside and all
of America will be cooking

alongside you,
and the other chefs?

- Yes...
- Hopefully, you, too, Gail.

I don't know.
My cooking is a horror show.

Nobody wants that tonight.

By the way, your hat is lovely.

Yes, it is.

So, we're going to do this
or what?

We're headed for our table.

Just wanted to say
good luck.

- Thanks, Freddie.
- Shaggy.

Maya and I know
you're a big Giada fan.

But we got a recipe
for roast chicken

that will make you forget
all about it.

- Giada!
- We really need tonight to go well.

Your uncle's put his entire
life savings into this place.

Thanks for that reminder,
Giada.

If you start to lose the crowd, just
bring old Scoob and me on stage.

We've got a food-related
knock-knock joke guaranteed

to knock 'em out.

Knock-knock.

- Like, who's there?
- Beets.

Beets, who?

Beats me! Ha!

It'll knock 'em out,
all right.

I'm nodding off already.

Good luck, everyone.

A round of applause
for Giada De Laurentiis

and her bucatini pasta salad!

All right, how's everybody's
bird looking?

Everything's looking
good up here.

We just want to check
the internal temperature

and make sure we're at
160 degrees.

Very important.

Everything's going great.

And they haven't even shown
off the fancy stuff yet.

So for our home viewers, now's the time
to stick that meat thermometer in.

But for everybody here at the
state-of-the-art Rocky Harbor,

all we need to do
is wait until...

- Skip.
- Yeah, Rocky?

Your chicken has reached an internal
temperature of 160 degrees Fahrenheit.

Your chicken is ready.

Wow, huh?

Thank you, Rocky.

Take it out and let me know when
it's rested for 10 minutes.

Ooh.

Pretty cool, huh?

Don't worry about that.

Lots of stuff uses electricity
around here.

Sorry about that, everyone.

Gotta make sure we pay
that power bill.

Knock-knock?
Who's there, Skip?

Uh, beets... Beats me!

I mean...

There's a beet
at the door... Oh!

- Oh.
- Oh, great.

Red Ghost!

All right, all right,
it's not a...

Did you hear that?

Red Ghost!

Shh.

- Pay attention.
- Oh, I'm sorry.

Bella.

- Shh.
- Why is it shushing us?

I know. Maybe it's the ghost
of a librarian.

Who cares! Just do what
he says and hush up.

Out of my way!

Shh.

It's coming right for us.

Shh.

Oh! Shush, yourself!

We'll be right back.

Next year,
I get the pick the vacation.

Your guess is as good
as mine, Larry.

Right now, no one from
the resort is talking.

All we really know
at this point is

what we saw play out
in the arena and on TV.

No injuries, but a lot
of scared folks.

A team of paranormal
investigators are on the scene.

Just who they are and what they're doing
right now about this serious situation

remains a mystery.

So this is really
what you kids do?

Literally,
all the time.

And you've actually
caught ghosts?

Let's just say, we always
get our man.

Do you mind if we look around
the inn for clues?

Go ahead.
The place is deserted.

Did someone say "dessert"?

Yum.

How can you two think of food
at a time like this?

How can we think of anything but
food, in a place like this?

You know, Shaggy and Scooby
are right. We need omelets.

Whenever I get stressed,
I make omelets.

Ah, make mine a vegetarian
Denver, but hold the onions.

- And the peppers.
- So, just eggs?

Yeah, you're right.
Hold the eggs.

Not again.

It's like everything
electronic in this place

has gone haywire
since last night.

Hay... Hay...
Haywire. Haywire.

Hay... Hay...
Haywire.

Thanks. In between hosting TV
shows and writing best-sellers,

I've been studying
martial arts,

parkour and Ultimate Frisbee,
you know, just in case.

Whoa.
Thanks, Nacho.

Hay... Hay...
Haywire.

What could be causing the
appliances to suddenly go bonkers?

Well, ghosts have long been known
to exhibit electrical phenomena.

She's right.

Well, thanks. I'm also fascinated
with all things supernatural.

We need to find
this Red Ghost.

And my poor scared Bella. Who
knows where she ran off to?

Don't worry, Giada.
We'll find her, too.

- Let's split up.
- Good idea.

Daphne, Velma and I
will search the ground.

Uncle Bobby, Shaggy and Scooby
will search the inn.

Uh, which team do you want to
be on, Miss De Laurentiis?

Oh, please, Fred.
Call me Giada.

I better go with the boys.

They need all the help
they can get.

What about me?

Well, somebody needs
to answer the phones.

- Can you do that?
- Uh,

how many phones?

You know what, never mind.

I got this.

I know how to answer a phone.

It's not like I never answered
a phone before in my life.

I got it, Bobby.

When the phone rings, I'm going to answer it.

- No matter how many... Ooh!
- Now, Skip!

Ah, it's okay. They hung up.

Uh-uh. No way!

Sorry, Nacho. Scooby's not about
to become a passenger vehicle.

Especially for a C-A-T.

He wants to know if you'll
do it for a Nacho snack.

Nacho snack?

Mmm-mmm.

How about that? Dude, they're
nach-your chips!

Get it.
They're my chips.

Bella! Bella!

So what are
we looking for, exactly?

I think we better talk turkey.

All right,
give it to me straight.

Dry versus wet brining.

Which technique will bring
my Thanksgiving bird

from blah to ta-da?

Okay, nobody panic.

Where're you guys going?

That way.

Yeah. Like, away from danger.

You guys,
we've gotta press on.

If we don't catch
the Red Ghost,

this whole place is ruined.

All right, but don't say
we didn't warn you.

Hang on, you guys carry
flashlights wherever you go?

- Uh-huh.
- Tools of the trade.

Isn't there something
you never leave home without?

- Tongs.
- Fennel.

Oh, great. Well, when we catch the Red
Ghost, you two can make us pork chops.

That's right. We have no official
comment on the incident.

We're going to let the
investigators do their job,

and once we have their findings,
we'll make a statement.

That's all I can say
at this time.

Now, can you please

tell me where my pizza is?

I ordered from you nearly an hour ago.

He hung up!

Can I help you?

I'd like to be turned down.

The answer is no!

This job's
easier than I thought.

I mean, I'd like maid service.

Never mind. I'm waiting
for a delivery.

I hope it's not from
Papa Blando's Pizza,

- or you're going to be waiting a while.
- Who are you?

Where's Flay?
Is he in the arena?

Uh, no, no, actually, sir,
you can't go in there!

It's still a mess from...
Stop! Please, turn around!

What should we be looking for?

Jeepers!

- You are nephew!
- Um...

- Yeah.
- Phone is ringing off hook.

Nobody.

- Wasn't Skip Taylor supposed...
- No Skip Taylor!

That's odd.

Chef Sue not guest relations.

Chef Sue busy making
fish-head stew!

Okay, okay, you did the
right thing by scaring me.

Uh, getting me.

Sorry, gang, you're on
your own.

The family business needs me.

Come on, Daphne, let's...
Oh!

- My glasses!
- Don't panic. I see them.

What's this?

It looks like some sort
of an electrical cable.

A big one,

leading from the inn to...

The groundskeeper's cottage.

I wonder if old Nosey-worthy
is sill here.

Only one way to find out.

Have we talked
about LASIK?

Yes, and I'm still
not a candidate.

Wow. Like, where are we?

It's Chef Edward's study.

Most everything
in here is original.

We just polished it up for the tourists.
Even the books were here.

You thinking
what I'm thinking, Scoob?

Uh-huh.

What are you guys doing?

It's our experience that in a
creepy old study like this,

in a creepy old inn like this,

there's always
a secret passageway.

And the sooner we find it, the
sooner we can have those pork chops.

Where the heck
is Skip Taylor?

It's not like a TV personality

to flake out
on their responsibilities.

Huh!

Rocky Harbor Inn and Culinary Resort,
can I put you on hold, please?

Rocky Harbor Inn,
please hold.

RHI, your call is important
to us, please hold.

Well, good afternoon, Fred.

Have we met?

Oh, of course not.
You'd remember.

I've just heard so much
about you from your uncle.

Oh, are you one
of his friends?

No. Just a business associate.

Tell me something. Personally,

do you think he'd ever
give up this place?

Uncle Bobby?

I'd think you'd have to drag him
out of here kicking and screaming.

That's exactly what I think.

Please have him call me
at his earliest convenience.

I have an offer I'd like him
to consider.

Sure thing.
Hey, you haven't seen

TV's Skip Taylor lurking around
here anywhere, have you?

I don't know who that is.

Oh, by the way,

I'm expecting
a very important delivery.

Please have it sent to my room
the instant it arrives.

All right? There's a good lad.

Bye-bye.

Rocky Harbor Resort,
this is Fred.

Reservations?
Um, I guess that's me.

What's your last name?

"Nosay-worthy."

Of course,
Nosay-worthy.

You were Nosay-ing?

Just a little joke.

Oh, that DuFlay was nothing
but a traitor.

My family has tended grounds
here for generations.

And the stories
have been passed, oh, yes.

The man was a sympathizer
to the Crown.

It's all written down there
in his personal papers,

which we're not allowed
to inspect,

since that lousy Henry Metcalf

had the entire Noseworthy
family banned

from the library.

Sunflower seed?

Oh, I'm sorry, we caught you in
the middle of moving, didn't we?

Well, I, uh...
Well... Yes.

We're sorry to disturb you, sir, but we
really just wanted to ask if you know

- what this cable's for?
- The wha... The cable, oh.

Well, probably something to do with all
that blasted technology Flay brought in.

And this junction box?

Oh, supplies all the power
to the inn.

Place still ain't properly wired
up for them modern conveniences.

It's a temporary fix,

but one I ain't got to
worry about no more.

Anyway, what's that got to
do with DuFlay, the traitor?

You don't gotta take my word
for it, do you?

All you need to do is go
to the library

and look at his papers.

Thank you, for your time,
Mr. Nose... Mr. No...

Jeremiah.

"Jere-mee-ah," from the Greek.

Oh, come on!

All right, let's go.

Well, how can you catch
that fiery demon

if you don't know why it came
for DuFLay in the first place?

Why, it's coming
for us all now!

Like, man,
I don't get it.

There is always
a secret passageway!

Yes, uh, hello.
Is that Skip? Freddie?

Uh, guys...

- What is it?
- My phone.

What were you saying about
electrical phenomena?

You guys, I think...

Don't say it.

I think the ghost is...

...in this room.

A trapdoor.

What do you want to wager that whatever
we're looking for, is down there?

Chateaubriand?

With caramelized shallots and a
demi-glace and all the trimmings?

Oh, I love Chateaubriand.
Good wager.

- I'm in.
- Um, we're trying to do something here.

Also, what's wrong with a nice
leafy salad, now and then?

Here goes nothing.

You're right, it's nothing.

Scooby, your flashlight.

Like, run!

Shh.

Here's the last one.

Though I'm not sure why this schedule
of Colonial army troop movements

circa 1778 to 1781 would make
mention of Chef Edward or his inn.

And I don't know why Noseworthy
thinks DuFlay was a traitor

or what that has to do with a ghost
shutting down Bobby's live broadcast.

But I'm still looking.

You're right.
Everything's a potential clue.

We just need to keep
our eyes open.

Shh.

Whew. I thought that was
you-know-who.

I'm going to take a closer look
at that Chef Edward exhibit

we passed on the way in.

The one with
the lemon-juice bottle?

Didn't seem too promising.

I know.
But maybe we missed something.

Lemon juice...
Velma's right.

Hang on.

Excuse me.

Is there another Chef Edward
exhibit here?

I'm afraid not. Why?

It's just that I heard the library
has Chef Edward's personal papers.

Why wouldn't those be included
in the display?

I'm afraid the only paper I
know about is the parchment.

The parchment Mr. Metcalf
gave Bobby at the inn?

Anyway, those are just
blank pieces of parchment.

Not much information to be
gleamed from them, I'm afraid.

Still...
Thank you, ma'am.

Shh.

I can't breathe
in this thing.

Me neither.

Come on, Scooby,
move it.

Oh, like...

I don't understand why we all
had to pile into the same vase.

Like, man, it looks like
not everyone did.

- Uh-oh.
- What is it, Scooby-Doo?

Your keen hearing
picking something up?

- Shh.
- Right. Sorry.

What do you hear?

No. "Shh."

Still too loud, huh?

- No.
- No?

Shh.

Well, what do you think?

I don't think we're any
closer to solving this mystery now

than we were when we started.

Shh.

Sorry.

- It's Fred.
- Hey, gang.

Freddie, are you wearing
coveralls?

Whoo! I had no idea this place
required so much upkeep.

What are you doing?

Solving the mystery of the
leaky downstairs faucet.

Anyway, I'm just calling to see
if you've heard from Shaggy or Scooby.

- They're not there?
- No.

And neither is Skip Taylor.

I'm starting to get worried.
You should probably head back.

We're on our way.

Oh, and if you happen to pass
a hardware store en route,

could you pick me up
a lug nut,

and also I need
another pair of...

Run!

Huh. That question's answered.

- Anyway, get back soon.
- Will do.

I think we lost him.

Come on. Seriously?

Oh, nuh-uh.

Uh, what happened to me?

I lost consciousness and...

Oh, wait, I remember,
I took a nap.

Hey, why were you blocking
the door?

Hmm. Cookies.

Made the old-fashioned way,

since the hi-tech stuff's
still on the fritz.

This day has been a disaster.

The library was a bust.

And I put in a full workday.

And Bella's still lost.

Oh, I hope she's okay.

Is Bella the one
with the glasses?

No. That'd be me.

- I'm Velma.
- I'm pretty sure you're Fred.

None of this makes any sense.

Why would a ghost want to ruin
a live television broadcast?

Yeah. And why is he always
shushing everybody quiet?

I think, Noseworthy knows
more than he's Nosay-ing.

He has lived here
his whole life.

You think he'd seen
the Red Ghost before.

Rocky, set timer
for nine minutes.

Timer set for
900 minutes.

Better just watch the clock.

Whoops. Uh, it's okay.

That's what
the auto-vac's for.

Um, I'm not sure you should...

I also studied gymnastic
discus throwing.

Just returning
the favor, Nach.

How were the cookies, gang?

Delicious.

Mmm! These are good enough to lick the
parchment paper they were baked on.

I wouldn't do that.

Bobby, you didn't by chance
accidentally use one of Chef Edward's

parchment sheets, did you?

Of course, not.
That would be...

- Uh-oh.
- I think you'll want to come take a look at this.

I don't understand.

There wasn't any writing on it
before you put it in the oven.

Of course! At the library.

- Chef Edward's lemon-juice bottle.
- You're kidding?

During the Revolutionary War,

spies would send messages
written in invisible ink,

which was really just
citrus juice that dried clear.

Oh, so the paper would taste good if they
had to hide it in their mouths, right?

No, so that when the paper was heated,
the citrus would oxidize and turn brown,

so it could be read.

Everyone's been looking for Chef Edward's
personal papers, thinking it was

a diary or legal documents.

But his personal papers were actually
this set of personalized parchment

he used to wrap up to-go food
for soldiers.

But why would he write
to soldiers in invisible ink?

- Hmm.
- What is it?

- What's it say?
- It looks like

detailed information
about troop movements.

Are you saying Uncle Edward
was a spy?

- It would seem so.
- Cool.

Huh?

These are
Continental Army troop movements.

American troops.

Shh.

No, Scooby. Fred and Bobby
need to hear this.

I'm sorry, guys, but there's
only one kind of soldier

for whom this would be
useful information.

A British soldier.

Your Uncle Edward was a spy
during the Revolution.

But not for the Colonies.

For England.

Jeremiah Noseworthy is right.

Chef Edward DuFlay
was a traitor.

You're sure you left the rest of
the parchment on the counter?

- Absolutely.
- I bet someone swiped them when we weren't looking.

Nobody saw anything?

Wait a minute. Has anybody
seen Scooby-Doo?

Or TV's Skip Taylor?

I think we found one of 'em.

Scooby, what are you doing under
the tablecloth, old buddy?

Did you see something scary?

Will you come on out
and tell us about it?

He's too scared to talk.

Do you think you can act
it out, Scoob?

We were all listening to Velma's
analysis of the parchment.

Ooh, then someone walked in.

Mmm-mmm.

The Red Ghost!

Shh.

The ghost stole the parchments
and then sneaked back out.

On the nose.

It's a good thing he did act it
out, because it's given us a clue.

Scooby just tracked through the
flour Bobby spilled earlier.

But there's more than one set
of tracks.

Which means...

The ghost also left a set
of floury footprints.

But ghosts don't walk.
They float.

Exactly.

How many ghosts do you know
that leave footprints?

I don't know
any ghosts, at all.

Well, what are we waiting for?

Let's follow these tracks
before the trail gets cold.

You know, the tongs
aren't helping.

Oh, your fennel is?

Fennel is a well-known repellent
for all things supernatural.

Tongs are pretty much
useless here.

Ha! In your face.

There it is! Upstairs.

Me and Scoob will stay here
to guard the kitchen,

in case he circles
back around.

Yeah.

What are you doing?

You heard Velma.

Fennel wards off evil spirits.

I smell like a zesty
Italian sausage.

Yeah. I'd keep an eye
on Nacho, if I were you.

- Hang on, is that...
- The parchment!

The rooms are all unlocked.

He could have gone
into any of them.

- Shh.
- Wait, did you hear something?

- What is it, Freddie?
- Shh. In here.

- Skip Taylor?
- Oh!

- Oh, hi, gang.
- You scared the wits out of us.

Hey, what's with the mask?

It's for my sleep apnea.

You have difficulty breathing
while you sleep?

Aah, I wouldn't know.
I'm asleep.

So I got a prescription
to wear this, just in case.

Now, kindly pass me
my sugar pills and get out.

- Hmm.
- What is it, Velma?

Since we started chasing
the ghost,

the lights have worked fine.

That's right.
They usually go haywire.

Also,
it didn't shush us once.

Oh, there you are.

Huh? Mr. Bass.

Has that delivery arrived
for me yet, boy?

I'll, uh...
I'll have to check.

Well, see that you do.

Well, Scoob,

it looks like, once again,

pretending to be cowards has
landed us the easiest assignment.

It's true.

Freddie!

Uncle Bobby! Wait, is that
the parchment?

The ghost must have
dropped it.

You know, Flay, if you spent more time
cooking and less time running around

with these meddling kids...

That sounds like Shaggy
and Scooby, come on.

There it is!

- Fennel, fennel.
- I'm all out.

Where did he go?

Did you guys hear something?

It's right outside
the front door.

Everybody, stand back.

A quadcopter delivery drone?

Oh, finally.

- What's this?
- A court order mandating

the immediate closure
of this inn.

What? Why?

"As the home of America's first celebrity
chef, the patriot Edward DuFlay,

"the Rocky Harbor Inn has been
declared an historic landmark."

And, as such,

the place will be put through
a long, rigorous and costly

preservation process.

- Who are you?
- Me?

I'm just a simple investor who's
willing to take this place

and its impending
cost overruns

off your hands,
right here and now.

Come on, Flay.

Take this money and rebuild
your resort somewhere

without any spooky Red Ghosts
chasing away business.

You never cared about the patriotic
legacy of this place, anyway.

You're wrong! You're wrong
about Uncle Bobby,

and unfortunately, you're
wrong about Uncle Edward.

- "Wrong"?
- Chef Edward DuFlay was no patriot.

He was a traitor.

Oh, there's no reason anyone outside
of this group ever needs to know that.

Take the check.

You're not really thinking
about selling the place

to that creep, are you,
Uncle Bobby?

I don't know. At this point, maybe
unloading the place is best.

- Shh.
- I know. I know, you guys.

- It sounds awful to say it out loud, but...
- Shh.

Get him.

Hmm.

A hedge maze?

Like, how are these things
still a thing?

It's a dead end.

Sorry.

Did we say a "dead" end?

We meant "living happily for
several more decades" end.

Who's there?

Mr. Noseworthy.
I need your help.

Oh, actually, I've decided to
start going by "Nose-worthy."

It really makes
a lot more sense,

if you just ignore

- the Latin...
- Fine!

Just unlock the junction box.

Hurry. This might be
our only chance.

Yikes.

Which way now?

That way.

Like, thanks, Bobby.

Thank the tongs.

Giada.

Licorice.

Licorice? Really, Scoob?

Even I can't eat
at a time like this.

Shh.

Wait a second, I smell it too.

- But that's not licorice. It's...
- Wild fennel.

It didn't work.
What are we gonna...

- Bella!
- You're okay.

She saved us.

Thanks, Bella.

So, it's real? The Red Ghost
is a real ghost?

Not quite, Bobby.

I figured it out when we got
that delivery back at the inn.

It's just a drone.

In a big, billowy cloak.

The spinning fans not
only make the ghost move,

the blowing air gives
the cloak its ghostly shape.

That explains
the shushing sound.

Now.

Okay, that's enough.

Can you hear me?

Shut it down.

Yup. A tiny electromagnet,

designed to emit a pulse
that disrupts the operation

of nearby electronic devices.

Like walkie-talkies.

I read. A lot.

So, as the ghost moved
around the estate,

the electromagnetic pulse...

Made all the appliances
go haywire.

So, you're saying it wasn't
supernatural electrical phenomena?

Nope. Just science.

But these things
just don't fly themselves.

Somebody would need
to pilot it remotely.

Which is how we were able
to shut it down.

I knew the drone would have to receive its
marching orders via the resort's Internet.

- Over Wi-fi.
- Right.

So all we had to do was shut down the
Internet routers by cutting off the power.

Thanks, Mr. Nosay-worthy.

It's "Nose-worthy"!

I don't understand.

How could a delivery drone leave
footprints and steal all that parchment?

It couldn't.

Which means...

There's another Red Ghost.

And I know just how
to track it.

What? Elton John's not coming.
We don't even know Elton John.

We need to make sure
people show up.

Don't worry. It's covered.

Mmm. Gourmet barbeque?
Sounds exciting.

The whole town's invited.

It will be a new grand opening
for the resort.

Plus, we're going to reveal some
big news we recently uncovered

about the town's hero,
Edward DuFlay.

Aren't you worried about
another attack by the Red Ghost?

I can assure you, the Red
Ghost will not be a problem.

Nyet, nyet, nyet.
Not like this.

Like this.

I'm live
at the Rocky Harbor Resort,

site of some strange
goings-on in recent days.

Tonight, though,
all that seems forgotten.

Hey, we all have
to start somewhere.

Yeah!

Here's another one for you.

We Didn't Start the Fire.

That's Billy Joel.

Really? Where?

Hello, Newport Cove.

How's the food?

All right!

That's what
our chefs like to hear.

Folks, this amazing building
here has a lot of great history.

Just like this town.

But not all of that history
is great.

And it's time the people
of this town knew the truth.

What's she talking about?

Many of you may have heard the
accusations that Chef Edward DuFlay,

the man who built this inn,
and many say, this town,

was a traitor to his country.

Well, we have some
new information...

Information that someone here
tonight doesn't want you to have.

Now, Rocky.

Wow, Freddie, you were right.

Gathering the townspeople
and threatening to reveal

the truth about Chef Edward
did the trick.

Now let's see who this
Red Ghost really is.

Noseworthy.

No, Scooby.

Mr. Noseworthy helped us
shut down the drone,

- remember?
- Oh, yeah.

Uh, Chef Sue?

What? No, of course not.

Chef Sue may be tough,
but she's not cr...

Singer man is right.
Chef Sue innocent.

Well, she can cook.
That's something.

So, if it isn't Noseworthy
or Chef Sue,

and it isn't Skip Taylor...

- Wait a minute, I was a suspect?
- For a little bit.

If it isn't them,
then who is it?

The person who was controlling the
Red Ghost drone from his smartphone

throughout his stay here.

Bradley Bass,
the real estate investor.

Off course. No wonder he wanted
those parchment papers so badly.

Papers that prove
that Chef Edward DuFlay,

the hero of Newport Cove,
wasn't a patriot at all,

but a spy for the British.

You see, Bass was in a bind.

He wanted to buy
the inn cheap.

But he didn't want to damage
DuFlay's reputation

and keep tourists away.

So he thought the Red Ghost scare
would motivate me to sell.

But he was just trading one
set of bad news for another.

Oh, and I'm not really
Elton John.

I'm TV's Skip Taylor.

You're history's
greatest monster.

If Bass wanted to run this place,
why scare all the tourists away?

As someone who studies real estate
transactions in her spare time,

I can tell you that's weird.

Because, Miss De Laurentiis,

this man is not
in real estate!

Or even named Bradley Bass.

Well, off course that's
my name.

This is preposterous!

Henry Metcalf?

The historian.

Metcalf spent his life building a
career around the story of Chef Edward

as the hero of Newport Cove.

But, at some point,

he must have stumbled
upon the truth.

But he couldn't
let it get out.

The DuFlay myth
built this town,

its families
and his own life's work.

He needed to protect it.

Somewhere in his research,
he must have found evidence

that the Noseworthys were right, and
that Edward DuFlay was a traitor.

And when he heard
Chef Edward's descendant,

Bobby Flay, was coming to
town and restoring the place,

he became frightened.

Metcalf, like Noseworthy,

believed the legend that,
hidden in the inn,

there was a set of personal
papers, written in DuFlay's hand,

that would incriminate him.

So it would only be a matter of
time before someone found them.

But what Metcalf didn't know,

thanks to some 18th-century
invisible spy tactics,

was that the handwritten
personal papers

were the very stack
of parchment sheets

Metcalf himself gave Bobby.

Not until I overheard
you kids in the kitchen.

He didn't want his life's work
to be in service to a turncoat.

So he brought the Red Ghost
to life to scare away guests,

close the inn
and keep the secret.

And I would have gotten
away with it, too,

- if it weren't for you...
- Hold on.

We're not quite there yet.

There's one piece of information
that even you don't know, Henry.

And it's something I think
Bobby, Fred and the people

of Newport Cove
deserve to hear.

I did a more in-depth
analysis of our cookie parchment

and I believe
when we analyze the rest,

we'll come
to the same conclusion.

You see, by studying
the history books,

we know exactly where General Washington's
troops were and how they moved

when this was written. But that's
not what Chef Edward wrote here.

The information here, which was to be
passed on to a British soldier or spy,

is false.

Well, this keeps getting
better and better.

The people of Newport Cove
will be glad to know that

Chef Edward DuFlay wasn't
working for the British,

but for General Washington,
himself, who no doubt

thought a respected chef would be the
perfect man to feed his enemy fake intel

to throw them off-balance.

And that means

Edward DuFlay was a patriot.

And a hero.

DuFlay is innocent?

But the red cloaks,
the quadcopter,

the electromagnet,
years of meticulous planning.

It was all for nothing?

I wouldn't say "nothing."

The resort got a ton
of free publicity.

And the food's been
out of this world.

Like, pass the ribs, Scoob.

Huh! Hmm?

Scooby-Dooby-Doo!

Aah!

Well, I guess this is it.

Freddie, I can't thank
you and your friends enough

for saving both the inn
and the family name.

So long, Flay.

Mr. Nosay-worthy... Sorry,
Noseworthy, is still leaving?

Yeah, we tried to talk him
into staying,

but since there's now a position
open at the Historical Society,

he's giving that a go.

He just might have
a "nosay" for it.

We made you guys something.
In honor of Chef Edward,

we packed you a picnic basket
full of to-go sandwiches.

They're all wrapped
in parchment.

Regular parchment.

No hidden messages.

Unless you count the stuff Chef
Sue spelled out in mustard.

Bye, everyone.

- So long.
- Have a safe trip.

Like, excuse me,

but I'm still a little fuzzy
on one thing.

What's that, Shaggy?

If there was no such thing
as the Red Ghost,

what was Chef Edward shouting
the night he disappeared?

Yeah! What?

I suspect he was found out.

When the British discovered he was
feeding them false intelligence...

They came to take him away.

He wasn't shouting
"Red Ghost."

He was shouting "Redcoats,"

a popular term for English
soldiers back then.

What's even more interesting is
that at the time, most people...

Can you keep it down?

I'm trying to get
some sleep here.

Boy, that Skip Taylor
is really something.

He really is.

Yup.