I do not own Phineas & Ferb.

18-year-old Buford Van Stomm was sitting in his bedroom staring at his blank computer screen. How did I get myself into this situation? He thought to himself as he typed out a few words then forcibly slammed his finger onto the 'backspace' key. I've been sitting here for the past three hours and I've got nothing to show for it.

He stood up and stretched, the pops and clicks indicating he was sitting too long in an awkward position. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number, then waited.

"'Jeet, man I need your help. You've got to come over immediately. I'm dying here." Buford initiated the conversation. "It's been three hours and every time I start writing something, I delete it because it sucks." He stopped to take a breath and listened to his friend. "Yes it does! You've not seen the garbage I've written, I can't present that." Buford took another breath. "Are you going to help me or not? I can easily call someone else and ask for their help."

Buford took a look at himself in the mirror. The young man staring back at him was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. His wavy brown hair was sticking up because he was pulling on it. "Great, see ya soon 'Jeet." He disconnected the call.

Buford went into the kitchen to get himself a coffee and a sandwich. He had the house to himself this weekend, his folks were visiting his grandparents. Someone suggested he have a party; he told them the last party he had ended in disaster. He was still working to pay his parents back for the damages, even though it has been three years.

Buford answered the door when the doorbell sounded. "Thanks for coming over. Do you need a coffee or som'tin' before we get started?" Baljeet shook his head. "No thank you, Buford. I am fine." The shorter male replied as he hung up his jacket and started toward Buford's room.

Baljeet took a seat on Buford's bed while Buford went to sit at his computer. "What about this speech are you finding so difficult." Baljeet inquired and Buford groaned. "Everything. Why did they ask me? Why not Fletcher?"

Baljeet became worried. "Buford, Ferb is gone… remember?" He said tentatively. Buford turned sharply in his seat. "Gone?" He then paused in thought a moment. "Oh, yeah. I remember now, Phineas was devastated when he found out. He just couldn't believe it. His own brother."

The two friends sat and reminisced until the sun came up. "That's it! I know my speech, thanks 'Jeet. You're a great friend." Buford exclaimed as he ushered Baljeet toward the front door.

Later that night.

Buford stood on the stage, hat and robes immaculate. He looked out over the audience a moment. He saw his parents and grandparents. His friends and their parents. He even saw people he'd not seen in years. He smiled then took a breath and began. "Family, friends, fellow grads..."