The baby platypus stepped into the red paint. He waddled off of the paint tray, making tiny red footprints across the O.W.C.A's freshly polished floors.
Perry was sitting a few feet away from Baby Palmer, absorbed in his book. He'd found it during his stay at Disney a week ago.
"Bwurgah." Palmer said. He climbed onto Perry's lap.
Perry looked down. "Oh no." He gazed in horror at the red-dotted floor. "Naughty, Palmer. Very naughty."
"Dawin." Said Palmer.
"No, this is not a drawing. This is a mess." Perry picked up Palmer and went to find a mop.
It seemed like he had to watch Palmer all the time. And as far as Perry knew, he and Palmer weren't even related.
Palmer dangled his feet. Red drops fell on the floor.
Perry opened the door to the supply closet.
Darren the duck was already in there, looking through some boxes. He gave Perry a friendly smile. "Pinky making another horror movie?" He pointed at Palmer's paws.
"No, Palmer was making 'art'." Perry said. "I need a mop."
"Well, good luck finding one. The last one got EATEN by Palmer. I don't know if Monogram ever bought a new one."
"You're trouble, you know that?" Perry whispered to Palmer.
"Dawin!" Said Palmer.
Darren grinned. "Did he just say Darren?"
"Yeah. Here, since you two are such good friends, would you mind taking Pal for a while?"
"Where's his mom?"
"Heck if I know. Just watch him." Perry dropped Palmer into Darren's wings.
"Mooshie." Palmer stuck his paw on Darren's face.
Perry ran down the hall… and right into Agent B.
Agent B, known as Brandon the bulldog, was one of the most important security agents who worked at O.W.C.A. Perry had encountered him a couple times before, once when Brandon had tried to handcuff him, and again when Brandon had tried to kill him.
They didn't really have much of a relationship.
Perry stood up, brushed himself off, and saluted.
Brandon didn't return the gesture. "Why were you running, Agent?"
"I needed to find a mop."
"Was this time-sensitive?"
"Yeah, kind of. Paint drying, you know?"
Brandon glanced at Perry's bottom half, which was covered in red pawprints.
"Have you been fooling around?"
"Nah."
Brandon glared at him.
"I mean no."
Brandon didn't move.
"No… sir?"
Brandon leaned in close to Perry's face. "What PAINT?"
"Red paint. Carl was painting. He left some out, Pal stepped in it…" Perry gave a nervous laugh. "Man, you're a tall guy, aren't you?"
Brandon stepped back. "Watch where you're going next time." He strode away.
Perry would have been mad in the past if an agent had treated him that way, but he knew more about the security agents' jobs now. It wasn't exactly the thrill of a lifetime. And there was no joking allowed if you were a security agent.
Being a field agent was much better.
Perry went into the bathroom, grabbed a few paper towels, and headed back into O.W.C.A's main room. He started to rub off the Pal pawprints.
They didn't even smear.
Perry looked at the paper towels, still clean as ever. Then he turned toward the paint tray.
Next to the tray sat a paint bucket, with the words "Paint- a lovely permanent quick-drying red!" printed innocently on its front.
"Great." Perry muttered. The paint on Palmer's feet would rub off in a day or so. On the floor… It'd probably never come off.
On the bright side, if you had to have paint all over your floor, having cute little platypus pawprints were way better than ugly old splatters.
He just hoped he wouldn't have to worry about rogue agent Dennis on top of everything else. He'd been threatening to get Palmer since before he was born. Palmer was apparently going to be really powerful, according to a couple psychic animals Dennis had talked to.
Perry wished Dennis would leave the kid alone. He couldn't even talk yet.
Monogram entered the room and stared straight at the floor.
"Carl's been painting again?"
Perry shrugged.
"He just so happened to feel this need to paint pawprints on the floor that look very similar to YOURS?"
Perry shook his head. He held up his hands.
"AHA! I've caught you red-han…" Monogram stopped. "Your hands are clean."
Perry pointed at his lap.
"Ah. So this is Palmer's doing, then? I'll remind Carl not to leave his painting things out…"
Perry watched Monogram leave, then pulled out his videophone. He dialed a number.
Poppy, a fellow agent, appeared on the screen. "Hey, Perry."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the park. Does Palmer need anything?"
"He NEEDS you to take him with you so that he doesn't cause any more damage here!"
"He's a little angel, isn't he?"
"Emphasis on 'little'. He's more in the devil category."
"What did he do this time?"
"He ate the mop, made permanent red pawprints all over the floor, chewed up Monogram's newspaper, drooled on Carl's glasses…"
"Cut him some slack, Perry. He's only a baby."
Perry smiled a little. "He is a cutie. I'm really attached to the little guy. He's just hard to keep track of, that's all."
"Can't you keep track of him just a smidge longer? I'll be right there, I promise. Give me five minutes."
"Be careful. Look out for rogues."
"I can take care of myself."
The screen went blank.
Darren entered the room. His feathers were completely black.
"Palmer discovered a timebomb." He said quietly.
Palmer padded in happily after Darren. "Ka-boomie!" He said.
"His mom's coming." Perry said.
Darren patted Palmer on the head. "He looks like you."
"He does not."
"I've seen baby pictures of you. Palmer's like your clone or something."
Perry turned his head to the side to get a better look.
Palmer imitated him.
"He does look pretty smart, I'll give him that." Perry said.
"Megajslmdplookie." Palmer said.
p***
Dennis stared through his binoculars, high up in a tree.
He could see the entire tri-state area from up here. Well, probably not, but that was what he liked to believe.
Patience wasn't something that came very easily to him, but he knew that Palmer wasn't going to be any use if he was still stupid. He had to wait until Palmer knew how to fight.
That was when Dennis would take over the training.
With Palmer on his side, they would be able to take over the O.W.C.A easily.
Then the agency would pay for all the pain they'd caused him.
Dennis sighed and put down his binoculars. He wished for the hundredth time that Palmer was ready for his training.
"Soon he will be, though." Dennis whispered to himself. "Soon he will be, and I will be his trainer."
p***
"Come on now, Pal." Monogram held out a plastic cup in front of Palmer. "Spit in the cup."
Palmer was very confused. He chomped down on the cup.
Perry stood watching. He didn't like doing this while Poppy wasn't here. She had every right to find out who Palmer's father was when everyone else did.
"Carl, how can I get through to him?"
Perry grabbed the cup from Monogram and held it out to Palmer. He spit on the ground.
"Gross, Agent P." Monogram said.
Palmer caught on, though. He spit into the cup.
Monogram took the cup back from Perry and stuck it into what Carl liked to call the Gene Machine.
"We have to wait until it loads." Monogram said.
Perry looked back at Palmer, who was chewing thoughtfully on Carl's sneaker. Carl wasn't paying any attention.
"Here we go." Monogram said. "All right, his mother is Poppy, but we knew that. Father…"
Monogram froze.
Perry hid his face in his hands. Monogram had frozen like that before. When he'd found Perry's father.
The last thing Palmer needed was a rogue parent.
"What is it, sir?" Carl asked. "Another rogue?"
"No." Monogram stood up and turned to face Perry.
"Congratulations, Agent P." He said. "You're a father."