(Backstory)
Shaggy: You know Scoob, it sure is a bummer when people get real sick and are about to die.
Scooby: Rat's right, Raggy!
Shaggy: They should write a Living Will.
Scooby: Huh?
Shaggy: That a piece of paper that tells your doctor what to do when you're about to die, old buddy.
Scooby: Ru-Roh!
Shaggy: Yeah, it sure is a bummer. Talkin' about dying an' turning off machines and extreme measures. (Shudders)
Scooby: Awww. (Puts paw around Shaggy's shoulder.)
Shaggy eats another brownie to console himself.
Shaggy: The problem is that doctors want to use extreme measures.
Scooby: Huh?
Shaggy: Patients should make the decision, man! Down with the oppressors!
Scooby: Rut, Raggy--
Shaggy: If only there was a way to solve this problem.
Scooby does a double-take, takes a stethoscope out of his pocket and puts it on, pulls a large document labeled "Living Will" out the another pocket, sits down at an imaginary desk, and waves the Will in Shaggy's face. Shaggy stares into space and eats another brownie.
Shaggy: Those poor old dudes, man. It'll just scare them if you start talking about dying. They'll want to use extreme measures. Or not. Or the doctor will. Or he won't. I feel kinda dizzy, little buddy.
Scooby slaps his forehead with a paw and waves the Living Will around some more.
Shaggy: Sorry, buddy, we need the wills but we shouldn't talk about the wills or we'll get scared and want to use the wills.
Scooby sighs and eats the rest of the brownies.
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