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.
Ah!
Please!
Beware. Beware.
Beware!
Red Ghost, Red Ghost, Red Ghost!
Subtitles by explosiveskull
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.
Subtitles by explosiveskull