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(Saturday evening, INT: EB and JH's living room, dark)

EB: You're driving the Mystery Machine down a deserted highway in the rain, when suddenly you hit something you can't see - two tires are blown, and you only have one spare.
JH: Rats. Rough road.
MH: You said it, Scooby. We'll have to call a tow truck, I guess.
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EB: At that moment, a flash of lightning illuminates an old broken-down castle up on a hill, a short walk away. It is the only building within sight.
NP: Jinkies, maybe those folks have a phone we can use.
LH: Like, I don't know, you guys, that place looks spooky. Maybe we should just wait here for the weather to clear up.
JH: Right. Risky.
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GU: Oh come on, you two, where's your sense of adventure? A fancy place like that probably has lots of fancy food in it!
LH: Hey, that's true. I could go for a fill-et migg-non sandwich. Whaddya say, Scoob?
JH: Royal ramparts retain regal repasts?
LH: Uh... sure.
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JH: Rally, regiment! Reject restraint, resist reticence; rather, rise rapidly-
NP: Jamie, when I said you're a Great Dane, I didn't mean Hamlet.
MH: Don't you dare correct him, this is awesome!