Hey, y'all! It's Spyrorocks, coming at you with a new fic!

So, like many of you, I'm excited for the new Scoob movie. Specifically, I'm most excited for Dick Dastardly and Muttley, aka my faves from Wacky Races. And in case you don't know, I enjoy making my favorite characters suffer. So yes, this is a sickfic for a movie that's barely out yet, because I do what I want.

This takes place before the events of Scoob!. Possibly while Rick (er, Dick!) is preparing to go to the Underworld.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't have any creative control over any of the Hanna-Barbera properties. Yet (evil grin). At the moment, they are all owned by Warner Bros. Peace!


"Muttley, I need-cough cough-I need the pliers."

Muttley glanced up at the sudden intrusive noise. Next to him, Dick Dastardly had opened up the control panel on one of his newer robots and was currently doing repair work on it. It was bigger than the normal ones the man created, white with a scorpion-like build and pale purple eyes. The robot was supposed to be used as a sort of security measure for the airship, but apparently it wasn't functioning as well as Dick thought it should have (something about reaction time, or maybe it was the heat sensors in the eyes instead? Muttley honestly had no clue). Deciding that that was "simply unacceptable" (His owner's words, not Muttley's), Dastardly had put on some overalls and gloves and decided to fix the problem.

In Muttley's personal opinion, that was a terrible idea at the moment.

The dog watched intently as Dastardly quietly worked with the wrench, only stopping briefly to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The man shivered a little as he worked, despite the fact that the temperature of the airship was quite warm, and occasionally he'd give a harsh, wet cough into his fist. Despite what Dick thought, Muttley was actually quite observant when he wanted to be, and he could tell something was up by the slightly glassy, unfocused look in his master's eyes and the way his body seem to droop like a-

"Muttley. The pliers."

Having been suddenly yanked out of his thoughts, Muttley shook his head and blinked. It took him a minute to process Dick, looking rather annoyed, holding out his right hand, his left hand tapping impatiently on a nearby workbench. Nodding, the pooch turned to the nearby toolbox and began rummaging around. After a few moments, he pulled out the desired tool and handed it to Dastardly. The man nodded towards his companion, then he turned back to the robot and continued tinkering with its circuitry, wiping more sweat off his brow as he did.

Muttley simply snorted in reply, right before going back to studying his owner intently.

Dastardly was completely focused on the rather large robot in front of him, only turning away to cough or sneeze into his fist. The shivering had gotten a bit more intense now; not enough to interfere with his work, but enough to be noticeable. Why was he shivering? It certainly wasn't because of the temperature.

"Alright, I'm almost finished. Just need to adjust a few more things..." Dastardly muttered, more to himself than to Muttley. The man stood up, stretched for a few moments, then picked up the mug of tea sitting on the workbench (That was also a sign of something being off; generally, the man was more of a coffee fan. Muttley had gotten used to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee heralding a barely-awake Dastardly in the morning long ago). He took a sip, then sat down to get back to work on the robot. Suddenly, a rather harsh coughing fit overtook the man, giving him barely enough time to steady himself with his free hand-

-but not enough time to put down the mug before it spilled its contents into the open control panel.

The wires, having just been exposed to lemon-infused chamomile, began sparking madly. Muttley quietly backed away, while Dastardly was too busy being wracked by coughs to notice. Meanwhile, the bot began shuddering and squealing, sparks still flying from the open control panel. The tail shot out a laser, scorching into a nearby wall, inches above Dastardly's head. Dastardly stopped coughing and slowly stood up, wobbling as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally caught his breath, he looked up and was startled to see the sparking, squealing robot. He then slowly looked down to where he had been sitting before, noticing the large scorch mark on the wall.

"...I believe we should start running," he said, turning to Muttley.

Muttley simply nodded in agreement.


Panting, Muttley glanced from around the chair. The scorpion-like robot was still sparking and shuddering, occasionally shooting off its tail or ramming into a wall. The two of them had managed to outrun it, but Muttley wasn't sure how long they could hide. The thing did have heat vision, after all.

"Is it still malfunctioning?" Dastardly whispered. While Dastardly was rather tall, the pilot's seat for the ship happened to be very tall to match its owner, and Dastardly was curled up into a ball behind it.

"Uh huh," Muttley grunted, nodding. Dastardly simply sighed and began rubbing his temples. Muttley turned back towards the robot, searching for some way to turn it off. There was the robot, a few levers, the glass dome, a small black device with a purple button-

Wait a minute. Didn't Dastardly say something about a remote shutoff for the new bots?

Wagging his tail, Muttley quietly snuck across the floor on all four paws. Now a foot or two away from the remote, Muttley quickly snatched it from the floor. Standing up, he grinned at the remote, looked up with pride-

-only to come face-to-face with the robot.

Smiling sheepishly, Muttley simply patted the robot on the head. The robot, seemingly unaware of the gesture, fired a laser inches in front of Muttley. Getting the message, the tan dog ran off like a shot to the chair. He began tugging on Dastardly's arm, to no noticeable effect. Growing frustrated, he let out a bark, garnering a wince and soft groan from Dastardly.

Well, that was better than nothing.

He let out another bark, getting the same response. Looking behind him, he gulped as he noticed the sparking, shuddering robot getting closer. Muttley barked a third time, which got a louder, more irritated groan from Dastardly.

"Muttley, I have a headache! What are you-" he began, turning to face the small dog, before noticing what he was holding. "The remote shutoff! Perfect!"

Muttley snorted, as though saying why do you think I grabbed it, genius?

"Alright, foul fiend! Prepare to-" Dastardly stood up, right before looking woozy and beginning to wobble. Stumbling out from behind the chair, he put his free hand on it to attempt to steady himself. The scorpion-robot rose its tail in the air, preparing to strike. Noticing this, Muttley grabbed the arm holding the remote and aimed it at the bot. Finally having regained his balance, Dastardly yelped and pressed the button.

Just before the robot struck, the sparking began to lessen, and the robot's movements became sluggish. Finally, with a resounding clang!, the robot fell into a semi-tangled heap of limbs. Silence reigned over the room.

"...Well, I believe that's enough repair work for today," Dastardly stated, stunned. He then began walking/stumbling towards his bedroom aboard the airship. "If you need me, I'll be designing a new invention I've had in mind for a while."

Muttley decided that he was probably safe doing that, then wandered over to what Dick called Muttley's "nap corner." Circling the area once, twice, three times, he finally settled down and closed his eyes, falling asleep rather quickly.

After all, it did take a lot of energy to escape a killer robot.


Muttley's eyes fluttered open. Yawning, he got up and stretched for a bit, looking for a clock as he did. His eyes landed on the clock built into the controls for the ship. It read 5:20, and the sky-

Wait. 5:20? It has been 1:50 when they had stopped the robot! Why hadn't Dastardly woken him up when he was done sketching out the blueprints?

Muttley looked around, as it wasn't hard to pick Dastardly from a crowd of people, and it was even easier to pick him out of an empty room. However, the man was nowhere to be seen. Muttley narrowed his eyes.

Where was Dick, anyways?

Sniffing the air for his scent (a mix of scotch and mustache oil with slight undertones of coffee), the dog began tracking Dastardly's scent through the airship, finally stopping outside Dastardly's room.

Was he still sketching out the blueprints? How big was thing supposed to be, anyways? Muttley shook his head and opened the door.

Inside, Dastardly was sitting at a rather large drawing desk that took up nearly half the wall it was up against. For a moment, Muttley thought he was leaning close to the desk, in intense concentration, sketching out his newest creation before he began losing the details.

Then the man let out a loud snore, and Muttley realized the man had simply fallen asleep while working again.

Sighing internally, Muttley walked over to the chair and surveyed the scene. Judging by the puddle of drool on the blueprints, he'd been asleep for a while. Grabbing on to the back of the chair (and quietly thanking Dastardly for having the sense to buy one with wheels), he began pulling the larger man towards the bed in the center of the room. Normally, this would be a hard task, but Muttley happened to be quite strong for a dog his size.

(Dick would most certainly agree to that statement, having had to wrestle the pooch into a bath many times, occasionally losing.)

Quietly pushing the man into the bed, Muttley surveyed his sleeping master. Now laying down, Dick was slightly curled up into a ball, now shivering much harder than he was before. His face was scrunched up in discomfort, and his arms were wrapped around his stomach. Concerned, Muttley placed a paw on his master's forehead.

Just as he suspected. Dastardly was running a mild fever.

Now frowning, Muttley rolled Dastardly onto his back, gently unwrapped his arms from his stomach, and began taking off the purple trench coat. He couldn't imagine Dastardly being comfortable with that on in his feverish state. As he slid off the other sleeve, Dastardly muttered something, and his eyes fluttered open. His eyes, glassy and slightly unfocused, locked onto Muttley. After a moment, he nodded slightly.

"Thank you, Muttley," he murmured, right before falling asleep again. Muttley smiled and patted Dick's head. He then left the room, closing the door as gently as he could manage.

Wandering down the halls, a part of Muttley dreaded tomorrow. Dastardly could be...difficult when he got sick. The man seemed to think he was superhuman, refusing to rest when ill. Most of the time, Muttley had to either physically drag him, fighting with him the entire way, into his bed, or (rarely) he'd wait until Dastardly finally admitted defeat to the illness and would be willingly dragged back to his bedroom to rest.

Either way, dealing with a sick Dastardly was never easy.

Lost in planning on how he was going to deal with Dick tomorrow, Muttley didn't hear the man's bedroom door opening. He did, however, notice someone nearly knocking him over from behind. Quickly regaining his balance, he looked up just in time to see Dastardly vanish into the bathroom, a hand clutched over his mouth. The door slammed shut, and Muttley heard gagging and retching noises coming from the room. The dog, now thoroughly concerned, knocked on the door. After a moment, the retching and gagging from the bathroom died down, the toilet flushed, and the door opened, revealing Dastardly shakily leaning on the doorway. The man had one hand wrapped around his stomach, while the other hand was currently wiping the sweat from his forehead. It took him a moment to notice Muttley standing in front of him, a concerned look on his face. In response, the man managed a weak, shaky smile.

"Ah, hello Muttley. I suppose lunch didn't agree with me as well as I thought it did," he said, scratching the pooch's head. He then stepped out of the bathroom, one arm braced against the wall, and began half-walking, half-stumbling back to his bedroom. Watching his owner close the door to his bedroom, Muttley sighed and shook his head.

Yeah, tomorrow would not be fun.


The movie...might have inspired me to make a sequel to this starring Muttley. So expect a second part taking place after the movie. Eventually.

Now, you may note that this isn't the most accurate portrayal of Dastardly's airship. There are multiple reasons for that:

1. This takes place before the movie. The ship's layout could have changed over the course of however many years Muttley was in the Underworld.

2. I began this fic before the movie came out, and I am not changing massive parts of this story solely because it contradicts canon.

3. We didn't see all of the airship during the movie, now did we?

Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing this (because I got to see one of my faves suffer), and I really love Dastardly both as a character and as a sickie (mostly because I see him as a stubborn sickie, and those are my favorite kind). The amount of love I have in my heart for this over dramatic jerk is and his chaotic dog...seriously, I love these two. You guys have no idea.

Well, gotta run! Like and review and all that lovely stuff. Laters!