Otters Love Lettuce, Right?
By Stor-E-Phool
The sun was setting silently, seeming to soak into the hillside as Ollie the Otter leaned against the slouching willow tree. He stared fixedly down the lane and into the still parking lot of the traditionally yellow suburban house.
Ever since the sun had come up that morning they'd been in the backyard. Two boys; one with flaming red hair and the other with hair the color of freshly-cut grass. They did the unimaginable as Ollie watched. All they had done in the passing hours of that day was build lasers, rockets, nuclear-powered generators and ice cream machines. An amazing feat accomplished by two little boys just over twelve years of age. They were brilliant. They were resourceful. They were dangerous.
And they were also Ollie's assignment.
Numbly, he watched as their inventions were swept away in a whirlwind just as a little red van pulled into the long-vacant driveway. Ollie frowned and watched as the whirlwind lifted into the sky the products of his nemesis' genius. A helicopter spun out of control in the sky as a mad-looking man cursed from it's cockpit. The shadowed shape of a platypus lept from the landing gear and parachuted to the tall tree in the backyard. In no time, Agent P had, again, become just plain Perry at the feet of his masters.
Platypi. Ollie hated them.
Especially the Perry kind. Throughout all of Ollie's observances Perry the Platypus had never once put his flipper down on his own sinister owners. Dispicable. Discusting. Platypi.
Ollie readjusted his cap and pushed away from the willow he'd been leaning on. Tomorrow he would bust 'em. Phineas and Ferb... his nemeses... his assignment... his prey.
A/N: Yeah. Fascinating beyond all reason. I know.
Ha! Really I just had to figure out a story for the great title! Those are hard to come across these days, really! Lol.
Love,
Stor-E-Phool