Hello, people who also watch Phineas and Ferb! Now, before anyone says anything, I know that there is already a Fathers' Day episode (appropriately named, "Father's Day") and that pretty much makes this entire story out of canon, but I'm just going to kinda do it anyway, 'kay? Or completely do it anyway? Great. So, as always, I don't own Phineas and Ferb. And I also don't own the movie, "Groundhog's Day." Or Despicable Me. Or Doritos. Or the Giant Floating Baby Head. Or apparently, any way to control my extra disclaimers. Even if they're completely unnecessary.
Day 1
It's a perfect day! It's in the mid-70's. Humidity is sixty percent...
Candace fumbled across her bedside table to reach the alarm clock. She remembered hearing parts of this song once while... Outrunning a herd of animals, or something? She didn't yet trust any outside stimuli provided by her senses, which had just begun getting used to working in the conscious world. Only her arm moved, trying in vain to find the source of the music with no sense of sight to accompany it.
It's a perfect day; not a cl-
All music ceased as the teen's hand finally found the snooze button. Nine minutes (that felt more like nine seconds) later, the song resumed.
-oud in the sky and I can say without fear of dissent...
"But Jeremy, I told you I wanted a puppy for Christmas!" Candace complained as she forced herself up, not fully awake, and flipped the alarm clock off. Digesting what she had just said, she thought aloud, "I should wait to use that alarm until school starts." After she nearly walked out of her bedroom with one shoe on and an inside-out shirt, she mumbled, "Maybe until after school starts."
A few groggy minutes later, Candace appeared in her doorway, fully dressed. She couldn't make it halfway down the stairs from her room before tripping on a stubborn piece of the carpet.
The onomatopoeia that came from the clumsy teen were as follows: "Woah! Ahh! E-e-e-e-ack! Oof! Ugh."
Phineas and Ferb, who were already downstairs, cringed excessively at the sight of their sister laying facedown at the bottom of the stairs. "D'oooooh," Phineas winced, "Fell on your nose, huh? Thathurts." He swallowed, looking at Ferb, who wore the same pained expression. "A lot."
"M-hm, nn uhn nn hnn," said Candace.
"Here, let's help you up," suggested Phineas, "And watch out for that first step. It's a doozy!"
"I'll say," agreed his sister now that she could pronounce words correctly. "Wait a minute. Ferb, did you sleep with that pencil behind your ear again?"
The boy cocked an eyebrow, and Candace reached into his mess of green hair and extracted the utensil. Ferb accepted it with what would have been an embarrassed look if he were anyone else. His sister chuckled. "Boys," she said, "How often do you have to brush your hair? What, twice a month? Don't answer that."
"Okay, but we have to get back to something," Phineas insisted, "Can't leave the root beer and peanut butter people waiting."
"Well, you do that. Wait, what? How are those things related?"
"They're not. It's called 'filler,' Candace."
"I know what filler is-"
"Oh, no!"
Startled, Phineas ran into a very smokey kitchen and thrust open all of the windows while Ferb ran to extract what was once a piece of bread from the toaster. "Well, that stinks," Phineas said between coughs, taking in the hot air, "Literally. It smells - like something - simultaneously combusted - in here."
"Is that your way of saying you burnt your toast?" Candace inquired, grabbing a glass of water for her brother. "And when was the last time that happened?"
"Well, happens to everyone," Phineas explained, "And thanks for the water. But it wasn't for us, we ate an hour ago. It was for Dad."
"Really?" Candace asked, interested, "What's the occasion?"
Phineas looked at Candace like she had just asked which geometric shape his head looked like. "It's Fathers' Day," he explained, "Unless we got the date wrong, or something..."
Great, Candace thought, Forgot yet another greeting-card holiday. "Uh, yeah, I knew that, I-I was just testing you. Yeah, that's it. And lucky you, you passed."
Phineas sighed. "It's just a shame about the toast," he started, "Oh, well. We'll just... Wait, that was the last of the bread, wasn't it?"
Ferb nodded regretfully after looking in the wastebasket to find the empty bag.
"Okay, well... I think the waffle iron's clean," Phineas decided, pulling out said iron. "Candace, you want to help us with this? I think I know the recipe, but I can't be sure."
"It's two parts water, three parts mix," Candace explained, trying to find a way out of the situation.
"Mix?"
"Yeah, it's in the pantry. Don't do anything bustable," she told Phineas before leaving.
The boys pulled out the box and read from the side; or, at least half of them did. "Original flavor waffle batter. May contain blueberries," the redhead wondered, "Huh."
"Ugh! It's noticeably warmer out here," Candace complained as she walked her bike outside to the street. "Of course, we had to completely run out of sunscreen at the beach yesterday."
"Actually, didn't Buford drink it all?"
Candace looked down to see Isabella, on her way into the backyard.
"Oh, hey, Isabella," she said, snapping a helmet on, "Going to see Phineas again?"
"Um, uh, did-did you forget Ferb?" Isabella corrected, "Anyway, where you off to this early?"
"I... I forgot that it's Fathers' Day. I'm going to go get something for Dad. And why are you only speaking in questions?"
Isabella chuckled. "Did I mention that the Fireside Girls and I are going for our Interrogatives patch?" She asked, "But the rules are really vague, you know? So, I'll see you around, right?"
"Yeah, I'll see you later. Oh, and Phineas and Ferb are inside, if they didn't burn the house down already."
"Does it look to you like they did?" Isabella observed.
"You kidding? That could easily be a hologram," joked Candace. She swung a leg over her bike. "But still. I should be leaving."
So, Candace rode off in search of something - anything - that may strike her dad's fancy. What's my father into now? She thought, Antiques, right? Where am I supposed to find something like that?
No, that's not right. I should give him something more personal, and not just using what I know about his work. But what?
Wrapped up in her thoughts, the teen didn't notice that she was riding in the middle of the street. A blaring truckhorn snapped her out of it, after which she stuck to the sidewalk. Soon after she had gave up and decided to get him a card, Candace saw someone who stopped her right in her tracks.
"Je-Je-Jer-Jer-Jer-Jer-Jer-Jer..." She sounded bit like a broken record crossed with a car alarm before cartoonishly giving herself a slap in the face to snap out of it. Her hand seemed to have a mind of its own today. No matter, though; Jeremy always took off of work on Sundays, so Candace wasn't sure why she was surprised to see him.
Was her skirt dirty? Did she have bags under her eyes? Was she slouching? Did the slap leave a red mark? These, among other things, were the thoughts that had taken Candace's mind off of the reason she had even come downtown. "Jeremy!" She finally uttered, and to her fortune, the boy turned.
"Hey, uh, hi Jeremy, what-what's up? Enjoying your day?" Candace asked.
Jeremy smiled warmly, "Well, I am now, Candace; it's nice to see you here. Anyway, Suzy and I are going out to get something for our dad for today. You've met my sister, right?"
Oh, had she. "Y-yeah, we-we're acquainted," she explained as the little girl peered out from behind the boy. Suzy, the little monster - that was the only word Candace could come up with to describe the horrors that the child could unleash - she was wearing such a grin that could intimidate quite the number of people. Candace tried not to look at it.
"Anyway, um, do you mind if I just uh, you know, tag along for a while? I forgot, too..." She said, having very mixed feelings about the situation. On one side, there was the fact that she could spend the day with her one and only Jeremy; on the other, she was under constant threat of discomfort and humiliation from his sister. Little siblings, both hers and her crush's, didn't usually get along with Candace. But, she decided that whatever price must be paid to be with the boy, she could (probably) pay it. And who knows? Today might be Candace's lucky day. Imagine, standing triumphantly against the bright blue sky, the wind through her hair, as Candace showed Suzy just who is Jeremy's favorite girl, and don't you forget it!
"Candace, hellooo?" Jeremy broke into her fantasy, "I told you that you could come if you want. Did you have anything in mind?"
"Oh, I was just thinking, you know, a card would be nice... I dunno. What about you?" Candace asked, hopeful.
"Well, that's better than what we could come up with," Jeremy sheepishly started, "There's a convenience store around the block, right?"
"I think so. As long as we get past this block, we'll be fine." Candace's eyes shifted uncomfortably to Suzy as she said this. "Where are we? Wrighter's Lane, right?"
"That's the one."
And so, albeit wary of Suzy's presence, Candace made her way with Jeremy safely to 203 Wrighter's Lane. "For you, malady," Jeremy motioned as he held the door open for Candace.
"Oh, what a gentleman," the other teen contributed playfully, "Ooh! It's air-conditioned in here. Sweet."
How is it that there isn't one Fathers' Day card here that isn't less corny than the last one? Candace thought as she shelved a card that read, "You're the best dad I ever had!" And does no one in this business realize that people have stepfathers, too?
"Caaandace?" Suzy asked sweetly, "What do you think of this card?"
Willing, now, to give any one a chance to maybe be worthwhile, Candace accepted the envelope. The inscribed words were very small, and Candace had to lean in close to read them. "Have a GRAND Fathers' Day," she pronounced with a little difficulty, "Okay, now we're getting farther away."
"Just open it, Candy," taunted Suzy, still in the act, "It isn't as bad as it looks."
"It had better not be," Candace threatened as she opened the card.
The first thing that came out of the card after she did so was a whole mess of confetti. And sticky confetti, at that; Candace figured she may have to wash her face to get it off. Heads in adjacent aisles perked up at the second thing that the card spewed out: loud, obnoxious music preformed by children somewhere around (maybe under) Suzy's age.
"You are the best! You are the best! Above the rest, you are the best! You are the best! You are the best! With you, I am very impressed! You are the best..."
"Ack!" Candace shouted, "What's wrong with this card!?"
"Candace?" Jeremy looked up from his inspection of another card, one printed on fine stationary that probably had a more meaningful message than any of the ones Candace opened. "What's going on? What's that - what happened to your face?"
"Ah! I can't get it to stop singing," the girl complained, "I closed it, but it's still going."
"You are the best! You are the best! Really, though; who would have guessed? You are the best! You are the best! You'd surely win ev'ry contest!"
"It's not stopping! Oh, I'm so sorry, Jeremy, I - I didn't think - I mean, Suzy-"
"Suzy?" Jeremy laughed, "Say no more. Come on, let's just put this back. And Suzy, maybe you should stop playing with the musical cards."
"You are the best! You are the best! With you as my dad, I sure am blessed!"
The song was followed by a long and out-of-key vocal outro. "That was the worst one yet," Candace complained, "Unless Phineas and Ferb made one, that's definitely the most inappropriate card ever."
"Well, then let's hope your brothers left getting a card to you," reasoned Jeremy, "I'm sure some fresh air will help. That was almost traumatic!"
Yeah, almost, Candace thought, Compared to what else Suzy's done to me.
"Aw, man, you just missed it!" Phineas started, "That bird just chased that squirrel across the street!"
The boy beamed for a second at his sister as she and Jeremy headed up the steps leading to the Flynn-Fletcher house. After taking a closer look at Candace's face, he grimaced, "Woah, Candace. What happened?"
"Just... Having a bad day," the teen sighed. "And don't ask about it. You wouldn't believe the answer."
Phineas chuckled. "Well, carry on, then," he instructed, "And don't mind the barbecue."
"Barbecue?"
"I guess we'll see soon enough," Jeremy said while ushering Candace to the hallway. "Suzy, you can stay here with Phineas and Ferb, okay?"
"Okay, Jeremy," the little girl replied cutely, "Come on, Phineas and Ferb! Let's have some fun!"
"One step ahead of you, Suzy," Phineas said as he and Ferb accompanied her out of the door.
Leaving Candace to wash her own face in peace, Jeremy waited outside the bathroom door. Inside, things were actually going quite smoothly. It did take some water to get most of the streamers off, but once they came into contact with it they peeled away pretty easily. To drain some of the color from her skin though, Candace was forced to use hand soap on her face.
Not a good idea in the least.
The inevitable, which has a habit of happening, did at the moment Candace rubbed too hard with soapy hands on her right eye. Jerking her hands back under the gushing water to clean them of the disinfectant, she waited no more than a second before grabbing at her own eyeballs to ease the pain. Instant tears welled up in Candace's eyes as a natural reaction, and when the stinging became almost too much, a small shout in pain escaped the teen.
Nice going, Flynn, Candace thought as Jeremy knocked and entered the small room. Crying right in front of Jeremy.
Eh, it's not as bad as it seems, she concluded as the boy asked her to take her hands off of it. I could have been blinded. Just to make sure, though, she covered her left eye to see if her vision was damaged. Fortunately, it looked (no pun intended) like she was going to be alright.
"Ugh, I think I'll be okay," Candace winced, "Is my eye red?"
"A little bit around the edges," replied Jeremy, "Just run it under the sink for a few minutes. It'll go away."
"Okay. Wait... You're talking about the redness, right? My eye isn't going to..?"
"No, no. Just get it under there."
As Candace slammed out the screen door to her backyard, she counted the times she hurt herself today. One, she fell down the stairs. Two, she slapped herself. Three, confetti flew out of an obstreperous Fathers' Day card and hit her in the face. (Three and a half if you count the annoying and embarrassing music that followed.) Four, she got soap in her eye.
I'm beginning to sense a pattern here, Candace concluded, finally taking a look at her backyard. So, this is what Phineas meant by 'barbecue.'
The Flynn-Fletcher backyard usually had a definite area, but Candace was sure that today it looked the faintest bit larger. How this was possible, Candace wasn't sure; it probably had something to do with how the empty lot next to the house was also occupied by the same party of people that was in the backyard, but the teen dismissed the thought. In the seemingly extended backyard, there was in fact a large gathering of people. Children and adults alike chatted with each other, played water games, and gorged themselves on hamburgers and hot dogs that someone started grilling. There were umbrellas, insects, and talk of vacation plans. The garden hose provided entertainment for Suzy and some of the children her age, and Candace made a note not to approach that side of the house.
"Candace?"
At the familiar sound of her father's voice, said teen turned sharply. "Dad!" She called, "Hey, happy Fathers' Day."
"Oh, thank you, darling. Enjoying the festivities?" Lawrence inquired.
"Well, I just got out here. How long have you and Mom been planning this?"
"Oh, the picnic? Your brothers organized it. They are grand, aren't they?"
"Phineas and Ferb got this started? Ugh, I should have known! Where's Mom?"
"Oh, she's over there chatting with some of the neighbors. Why do you-"
"Great Dad love ya!" Candace called as she sped off to find her mother.
"Mom!" She shouted, interrupting a heated conversation between Linda and a few neighborhood mothers. The subject was quilting. "Hey, do you see this? You know that Phineas and Ferb started it, right? Are they busted, or what?"
"What, Candace," Linda dismissed.
"I said, are they busted, or-"
"I heard you."
"Wow. So, wait, you're okay with them throwing a party out here, but not me?" The teen was horrified.
"What party?" Her mom teased, "All I see is an intimate get together."
"Mo-om."
"Okay, okay. Still, this is nice. You should enjoy it with everyone else." She snickered, "You might have to. The boys may have started a tradition."
Candace sighed. "Well, if you want me, I'll be doing whatever Jeremy's doing."
"Candace, watch out!" Phineas urged, but it was too late. "Isabella, you were supposed to catch that water balloon."
"Was it my fault you threw too long?" Isabella questioned, "Oh, are you okay, Candace?"
"I'm fine, just wet," the teen said, "And lucky you, you missed my face. But now my skirt's all dirty..."
"Sorry about that. And it looks like we lost the water balloon toss," Phineas said, "I wonder who won."
"Victory!" An overexcited Irving cried triumphantly, seeing that he and Ferb were the only two people not disqualified (but not seeing that he was still expected to participate, hence his getting hit square in the face with a thrown balloon). "Oh, well; we still won!" He exclaimed. Ferb just whistled innocently.
"Well, that was fun anyway," Phineas concluded. He turned to Isabella. "Want to go grab some lemonades?"
"Is that a question?" Isabella agreed happily.
And so, the two (plus Ferb) walked over to a cooler and retrieved their drinks. "They're cute, aren't they?" Said a voice from behind that startled Candace.
"What who? Oh, hi Jeremy, what-what were you saying?"
"Your brother and that girl Isabella. Look how well they're getting along," explained Jeremy as he handed Candace one of two ice cream comes he had bought from a passing truck.
Indeed, Isabella did look like she was enjoying herself in the presence of the boy. He had handed her his lemonade, trying to get her to open it for him. She had more success than her partner, but when Isabella got it open the container started spurting lemonade up at her. Playfully, she aimed it back to the boy who shoved it away at first, but finally admitted defeat and accepted the drink. The two laughed and laughed, then Phineas and Ferb high-fived at their joke. Carbonated lemonade. Gets 'em every time.
"Yeah, you could say that," Candace told Jeremy. "Wait, you are talking about Phineas, right?"
"Yeah, who else?"
"No one, I just... Hey, where's Perry?"
Yes! Candace thought, It worked! I successfully summoned a line break!
Although, now is a strange time to pick up...
"Here, I got the aloe. Just rub it on your shoulders and don't touch it," Jeremy instructed, handing Candace a bottle. "Those are some burns, huh? Do they hurt?"
"Only when I touch them," Candace replied, referring to her sunburnt shoulders and arms. "But it's not that bad; it just kind of stings."
"Alright then, take it easy. In any case, did you have fun today?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I tripped down the stairs, was humiliated in public, hit with a water balloon, fell off a chair, got my hair caught in a fan, and got hideously sunburnt, but I was able to hang out with you for a while, and that was nice."
"Well, that's good to hear. Anyway, I have to leave now. My parents want me home by eight today in time to meet the root beer and peanut butter people. Don't ask."
"I believe you, Jeremy," Candace began, "Will I see you tomorrow then?"
"Sadly, no. I work Mondays, remember? I'll call you on my break, though."
Candace smiled. "Alright. So long then."
"So long, Candace." And just like that, he was gone. And working tomorrow. Today wasn't that bad, though, taking into consideration the circumstances. Candace had given her dad (with help from her brothers) one of the best Fathers' Days she could, so by her calculations she didn't have to worry about that until next year.
That night, Candace's horrible sunburns were the only thing that kept her from sleeping well. That is, until she awoke the next morning to the same alarm, to relive the same day. Over and over again.
Fathers' Day.
So, yeah, I made the cover image. It's a parody of the "Groundhog's Day" cover. Just wanted to put that out there. Ten points to anyone who caught the writer's block joke!
And no, I'm not incredibly late, making a Fathers' Day story at the end of July. I'm just really, really early. It all depends on when (or if) your country actually celebrates it.
