I felt like doing something special for Easter, so I came up with this - a piece which could genuinely be an episode of Phineas and Ferb. You know, that TV show I have no rights to except as a viewer. It's not Easter-themed, but I hope it'll bring a smile to your face. Besides, I asked the Zapdos to help me with it, and he beta read the whole thing. Moving on, here is part 1. Of 2. Enjoy.
"Many things in life are utterly incomprehensible. Therefore, they are full of deep significance."
"Like that pinch me sign on your back?"
"Exactly."
Phineas laughed. It was a bright summer morning, and he and his brother Ferb were watching one of their favorite TV shows: Sunday Morning Rerun. In this particular episode, a few of the actors put on a short skit poking fun at the different artists through history.
"I don't get it," said one of the actors. "How come Francis Bacon never painted bacon?"
Now, Phineas turned to Ferb. "Do you like Francis Bacon?" he asked.
"I prefer Jimmy Dean pure pork sausage," replied his green-haired stepbrother, taking another bite of his breakfast - Jimmy Dean pure pork sausage.
Phineas turned his attention back to the TV.
"Who was richer?" lamented another actor. "Johnny Cash, or Claude Monet?"
"Well," replied the first actor. "Cash could spend his money wherever he wanted. Monet could only spend it in Paris."
He pronounced the city pair-ee.
Then they started wondering why Chinese people rarely painted, only sculpted.
One actor gave his verdict. "They could never get the duck to pose just right," he said. "It was always Peking."
Phineas switched off the TV. "You know, Ferb," he began. "The guys on Sunday Morning Rerun are always making tons of short skits. Why can't we do the same? Ferb, I know what we're going to do today!"
Ferb looked at him blankly.
"We're gonna put on our own version of Sunday Morning Rerun," explained Phineas.
Ferb shook his head.
"What? Why not?" asked Phineas.
Ferb shook his head again.
"We just aren't? Why?"
Just then, Isabella walked in.
"Whatcha doin'?" she asked.
"Well," replied Phineas, frustrated. "I want to put on our own version of Sunday Morning Rerun-"
Isabella interrupted him. "That show is the best! I love how oblivious the actors are sometimes!"
Ferb looked at her curiously.
"We don't have to do that in our version," Isabella said quickly, knowing it would probably happen anyway.
"As I was saying," continued Phineas. "I want to put on our own version of Sunday Morning Rerun, but Ferb keeps shaking his head."
"That's weird," said Isabella. "Where's Perry?"
Exasperated, Ferb threw his arms toward Isabella, staring at Phineas while he did so.
"Ohh," said Phineas in realization. "You were just waiting for me to say that!"
Ferb nodded.
"Now can we get started on our TV show?"
Ferb nodded again.
Perry, as it turns out, was napping on his bed. His theme began playing on a glockenspiel, slow and soft, like a lullaby.
Dooby Dooby Doo Bah
Dooby Dooby Doo Bah
Perry snored once.
Candace was talking on her phone.
"Oh, yeah," she was telling Stacey. "I have tons of neighbors. In fact, two different families live right next door to us, and there's only one house."
After a moment's pause, during which Stacey did her talking, Candace continued. "Yeah, there was Thaddeus and Thor, then there was that nice lady who got caught up in the pyramid scheme, and then there's that vacant lot on the other side. And I'm still wondering where Phineas and Ferb found enough land to build that backyard beach. Speaking of Phineas and Ferb..."
Candace sniffed the air once.
"Motor oil," she determined. "Stacey, I'm gonna have to call you back."
Then she hung up, and ran to the window.
"Just what do you think you're doing?!" she screamed at the kids in the backyard.
"We're preparing our very own version of Sunday Morning Rerun," replied Phineas. "Wanna join?"
"I'm telling mom!" she screamed.
"That's great!" said Phineas. "Tell her we're also handing out coupons for a cheese sandwich. That's cheese and sand sculpted into a witch statue." Quickly, he added, "It's not for eating."
Candace grabbed one of the flyers for the show and ran off to the antique shop, leaving the brothers and their friends to build in peace.
Suddenly, Phineas yelled, "Buford! What did I tell you about breaking the fourth wall?"
Everyone immediately looked at Buford, who was standing right next to the only wall of their theatre knocked over.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly.
Now, Perry woke up from his snooze, and slipped his fedora onto his head. He looked around, confirmed that there were no witnesses, then proceeded to leap out of the second story window. A chord struck the moment he landed, and James Bond type music began playing.
Perry jumped into a toy car that was laying around, and pushed the pedal to the floor. The toy car (an old Aston Martin) accelerated too fast. Perry had no time to turn away from the fence. So he flipped open a panel on the dashboard and pressed a button. The headlights retracted, revealing a machine gun, which Perry promptly fired into the wood, creating a hole big enough for him to drive through.
Agent P drove his Aston Martin through the streets, then turned into an alleyway. Suddenly, more toy cars - no doubt a training exercise - appeared behind him, and gave chase. Cool as ever, the platypus instantly knew what to do.
He pushed another button on the dashboard, and oil started flying out the exhaust pipe. The cars chasing him were unable to keep their balance on it, and they all crashed into the walls on either side.
Perry, pleased with the scene behind him, looked forward again, and gasped. In a few short feet, the alleyway narrowed suddenly, so that it wasn't wide enough for the car to go through.
Thinking quickly, Perry swerved towards the small ramp on his left, and, in some impossible driving stunt, two of his wheels went up the ramp, and the other two remained on the ground. All of a sudden, Perry was balancing the entirety of the miniature Aston Martin on its two right wheels, and managed to maneuver into the small alley.
When the alley finally widened again, Perry was balancing on his car's two left wheels, driving into his lair. He pressed the button which activated the ejector seat, flew out of the car, and landed in his typical seat.
Major Monogram's face appeared on the screen in front of him.
"Good morning, Agent P," he said. "I see you took full advantage of the late start you were permitted today."
Perry nodded, then looked at Monogram curiously.
"Oh, this?" said the Major, looking at the one M on his shirt instead of the usual two - which Perry was undoubtedly referring to. "My tailor was lazy. He didn't do the best patchwork on this suit. Sorry about that."
Perry accepted the excuse, and allowed his boss to continue.
"A select few joke books have been inexplicably disappearing from every bookshelf in the Tri-State Area. You know, the joke books with terrible jokes like 'What kind of pig knows karate?'"
Perry looked at Major Monogram for a second, waiting for the punchline.
"Pork chops!" came the answer, between laughs. Then, regaining himself, Major Monogram looked back at the platypus.
"Yeah, those joke books," he said, as if he had never laughed at such a stupid joke. "Frankly, we suspect Doofenshmirtz."
Perry saluted, and began to rocket off in his jetpack.
"Oh, before you leave, Agent P, Agent Q has a few gadgets to help you on this fiendishly difficult mission. He's waiting for you in the tech department."
So instead of flying through the ceiling, Perry the Platypus dutifully walked through the door at the left, and towards the inner workings of the O.W.C.A. building.
"Carl!" the Major yelled.
"Yes, sir," the intern replied.
"Tell me another one of those jokes."
"Okay, sir. Let's see... Oh! Here's a good one! What did the Buddhist tell the hot dog vendor?"
Major Monogram thought about it for a moment. When he couldn't answer, Carl delivered the punchline.
"Make me one with everything!"
Carl and his boss both began laughing uncontrollably.
Around the corner, Perry rolled his eyes. The sense of humor held at O.W.C.A...
Elsewhere in Danville, people were filing into Ferb's Funnies by the hundreds to see what the signs had been advertising all morning: the Sunday Morning Rerun Exclusive.
The show was about to begin, and the audience was eagerly waiting for the curtain to rise.
Suddenly, a spotlight shone on the middle of the red curtain, outlining the unusual shadow of a triangle-headed boy.
A voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "Ladies and gentlemen... Boys and girls... Children of all ages... May I present to you a show like nothing you've ever seen before! A new remake of the classic show which has been airing every Sunday since 1975 to avoid competition from Saturday morning cartoons..."
A drumroll sounded, growing louder with each passing second.
"Sunday! Morning! Rrrrrrreeeerrruuunnnnn!"
The curtains parted, and the audience cheered so loudly the very foundation of the building shook.
"I'm Phineas Flynn, your self-proclaimed host, and tonight, I'll be guiding you through the many wonders of reality TV, revitalized and re-aired!"
"By the way," said Phineas, "it is a little known fact that it is impossible to ality just once, which is why everyone performs re-ality."
The audience laughed.
"For tonight's opening monologue, we have invited none other than the one and only Ferb Fletcher to speak on the traditional Brit's view of the world. So, without further ado, Fffeerrrbbb Fletcherrrrrr!"
Phineas stepped offstage, and a green-haired boy took his place. For a whole minute, he said nothing. Then he adjusted the microphone. Twice. And finally spoke.
"Well, that was Much Ado About Nothing."
In one sentence, the boy had turned the audience hysterical. They were pounding on the tables, crying. One person had fallen onto the floor and couldn't get up because every time he laughed, he collapsed again. In fact, only one person in the entire audience hadn't busted a gut laughing was the nerd in the back corner.
"Am I the only one who got the Shakespeare reference?" he asked himself. "Or am I missing something?"
"Mom! Mom! Mom! MomMomMomMomMomMomMomMom! Moooommm!"
Candace was screaming hysterically as she ran to the antique shop where her mother was. She pushed open the door to her parent's business, and ran straight into a body.
Both people fell backwards onto the ground.
"Ow!" the other one screamed.
Candace froze. She could recognize that voice anywhere.
"Candace?" the other person asked.
"Uhh..." Candace groaned. "Hi, Jeremy."
"I was just looking for you!" Jeremy said, standing up and rubbing the back of his head.
Candace helped herself onto her feet. "And I was just looking for– wait, what did you say?"
"It's our one-month anniversary!" said her boyfriend, holding out a wrapped box. "I got this for you."
Candace took the box and opened it. She gasped, and flushed red. Inside was an official signed Ducky Momo collectible snow globe - one of the only things missing from her diverse collection. How did Jeremy...
"Your mom recommended it," Jeremy explained.
Of course it was her mom. "Moooommm!" Candace screamed, rushing off to the back room.
"Don't yell, Candace, I'm right here."
"Remember fifth-grade graduation? Don't tell anybody about Ducky Momo or my baby pictures!"
"Fifth grade graduation?" her mother asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Ohh... forget it," said Candace, rushing back into the main room, where Jeremy was patiently waiting.
"Uhh... Jeremy," she confessed, "I, uh, totally forgot to get you a—"
"Hey, you dropped this," Jeremy cut her off, picking up a loose paper that had fallen on the floor. He read the paper, and gasped.
"You got us tickets to Sunday Morning Rerun for our one-month anniversary?" he asked in disbelief. "In your own backyard?! Man, your brothers are the best! C'mon! Hopefully we haven't missed much!"
Instead of confessing the truth to her boyfriend, Candace decided to go with the flow. "Yeah," she said. "Let's go!"
Meanwhile, in the O.W.C.A. tech building, a quail was cawing, and a platypus was trying to make sense of the screeches. Carl had been called to translate, but he couldn't speak fluent Platypus, and Perry, having spent his whole life growing up around humans, didn't speak any Platypus. Apparently, nobody told Carl.
Fortunately, most of the gadgets were pretty easy to figure out. The pen, for example, squirted ink when it was clicked. The jet pack could now double as a shield, since it was completely inator-proof. And finally, the suitcase had many other useful features, such as a long cord that could be propelled from one of the hinges, a grappling hook to add onto the cord, and a can of smoke inside, that would automatically activate if the suitcase was opened wrong.
As Quinlan the Quail showed each of these items to Perry, the platypus was being dressed by other birds in a 1940's Al Capone-like gangster outfit, and by the end, the platypus was wearing a gray suit, had his hat repainted to look gray like a '40s Chicago gangster, and was carrying the multitude of gadgets he now had all over his body. Finally done here, he swung the jetpack over his shoulders and flew off to Doofenshmirtz's headquarters in his cheesy disguise.
Soon enough, Candace and Jeremy had arrived at the backyard, only to find Irving manning the ticket stand.
"Ahh, Candace," he said. "Welcome to Ferb's Funnies. Today: the Sunday Morning Rerun exclusive!"
"Wouldn't you rather be watching the show?" Candace asked.
"Meh, I'm taping it all on the UPAFDS," explained Irving. "I'll watch it later. Now, tickets please."
Jeremy handed Irving the flyer. Irving stamped it, and handed it back.
"Here's your program," he added. "And here is your cheese sandwich coupon. Enjoy the show!"
Candace and Jeremy rushed to their seats just as the curtains re-opened to show Phineas.
"Next up," the self-proclaimed host said, "we have Isabella Garcia-Shapiro putting on her own mock reality show: Oh, Boys!"
Candace watched Phineas speak with only the slightest interest, but Jeremy was already hooked.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Phineas continued. "Let's give it up for Isabella Garrrciaaa-Shapirroooo!"
The audience howled for the Fireside girl as she walked on stage.
"Thank you, thank you," she said, secretly hoping that this particular episode would veer off-script. That was the only reason she wrote this.
"Hello and welcome to Oh, Boys!: an in-depth look at the side of that special someone no one wants to see."
The audience applauded again. Even Candace's attention was now focused on the stage.
"Oh, Phineas!" Isabella called. "There's no need to leave the stage. You're a part of this show."
Phineas turned around. "Wait, I am?" he asked.
"Yeah!"
"But I don't have a script or anything!"
"You don't need one," Isabella said. "Because you're our guest star!"
Candace gasped. This could be good.
Slowly, Phineas made his way back to center stage. "I thought this was sketch comedy," he said. "Not improv."
"If it were sketch," Isabella replied sweetly, "then you would know what to expect. Personally, I'm hoping that you could introduce me to the rollercoaster of love."
"Wait, there's a rollercoaster around here?" asked Phineas, eagerly looking around. "Where? I don't remember one in the blueprints!"
The audience howled. Even Candace was now gripped.
"Isn't he amazing, folks?" asked Isabella.
The audience cheered again.
"Wait, I don't get it," said Phineas. "What are they cheering about? And where is the rollercoaster?"
"There isn't one," explained Isabella. "I'm just trying to get to first base."
More laughs.
"Okay, now you're being really confusing, Isabella. I thought this was a mock reality TV show, and now you're telling me we're playing baseball?"
Isabella cued a sound effect, and a disappointed ooh played over the loudspeakers.
"A swing and a miss, folks. Anyone here hosting a telethon for Love-Handicapped Preteen Awareness?"
Phineas gasped. "Why are you asking about a telethon? You're not... handicapped... are you?" he asked, struggling to recall the ailment Isabella had spoken of.
"Phineas," Isabella said, trying to sound reasonable. "No. I'm not handicapped. I just wish you would—"
Isabella stopped herself, sighed, and began singing.
Here I am, on live TV
And still he won't notice me
He's standing right here
And still he's so far away...
I will do anything
To become his mighty queen
And though he's my dear
He still can't hear what I say...
I've made it clear as day...
The engineer extraordinaire
Still can't hear my heart's despair
So please send down from up above
A formula for love...
Fill in numbers, solve for 'X'
Calculate the other sex
Write it out and plug it in
Though it's one-dimensional, I'd call it a win
What's the angle of your lips?
Find the sine for helpful tips
Plot it on a coordinate plane
Pascal's love triangle will then show you the game
The engineer extraordinaire
Still can't hear my heart's despair
So please send down from up above
A formula for love...
They should teach this in chemistry
I passed that class with a solid 'B'
But I need help from up above
I need a formula for love...
Phineas looked at Isabella curiously. "I don't get it," he said, flabbergasted.
The audience laughed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only Phineas Flynn!" announced Isabella loudly. "Is there anyone on earth like him?"
A thunderous applause came from the audience.
Turning to Phineas, she said, "That's it. You can go now. You were absolutely remarkable. I've never seen anything like it!"
Except every day ever, she added silently.
"Huh?" asked Phineas. "Wait. I don't get it. What did I even do?"
"Unfortunately," replied Isabella, "you did exactly what was expected of you." Then, turning to the audience, she said, "Personally, I was hoping some improv would be involved. Am I right, folks?"
Candace and Jeremy murmured agreement, and the rest of the audience with them.
Finally, Isabella turned to leave the stage. "Oh, boys," she said as the curtain closed.
After a moment of silence, the audience cheered.
Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated!
Perry flew in low over the balcony of the purple building, and–
The O.W.C.A., in all their excitement, forgot to fill the tank of the jetpack. There was only enough left in it for a test flight. Now, it was empty, and Perry began falling to his doom.
The platypus recovered quickly, finding the grappling hook on the hinge of his suitcase, and activating a cord.
The grappling hook flew onto the balcony, and stuck firmly. Perry hoisted himself up. He then calmly walked into the penthouse, straight up to Doofenshmirtz.
The evil scientist turned around.
"Wha–" he said, upon seeing the disguised Perry. "Al Capone? YES! I knew I would get promoted sometime soon! I knew it I knew it I knew it!"
Perry choked back a laugh, although it was incredibly hard not to.
But Doofenshmirtz started doing a crazy promotion dance, and the secret agent could hold it back no longer. He doubled over laughing, clutching his sides. As crazily dressed as he was, Doofenshmirtz's outfit was even worse.
Doofenshmirtz heard the laughter, and stopped dancing. "Hey!" he said. "It's not funny! The dry cleaners lost all of my lab coats, so I had to go into my daughter's wardrobe to get any clothes! I'm desperate, man!"
Indeed, the scientist was desperate, for he was wearing his teenage daughter's gothic outfit, which was too small for him, tailored all wrong, and looked utterly ridiculous. It took all of Perry's effort to stop laughing, and even then, he was still chuckling somewhat.
"You know," said Doofenshmirtz, "I should really zap you with my not-funny-inator, but seeing as I'm about to get a promotion, I won't. So consider yourself lucky, Mr. All-Alone."
Doofenshmirtz laughed. "Ha! You see what I did there! I made a pun with your name. Pretty–" he paused for effect. "–punny, right?"
Then he noticed that Perry had taken his disguise off, and was only wearing the hat.
" Heyyy... you're not Al Capone."
Perry rolled his eyes.
"You must be Al Capone's nemesis! I didn't know his nemesis was a platypus. That is so cool! My nemesis is a platypus, too! I wonder where he is... it's not like him to be so late..."
Perry took off his hat and blew hard. All the paint flew off it, restoring the hat to its typical brown color. He then put it back on.
Doofenshmirtz gasped. "Perry the Platypus?!"
He fumbled around his outfit, looking for his remote. "I can never remember where all the pockets are on this thing," he mumbled. "Now, let's see... ah! Here it is!"
He pulled a remote out of his pocket and pressed the button. Out of nowhere, a metal arm grabbed Perry and stuffed him headfirst into a black, gothic shoe.
"Don't worry, Perry the Platypus," comforted Doofenshmirtz, "you're all 'right' now."
The evil scientist erupted in laughter. "Hahahaa! Get it, Perry the Platypus? Because you're trapped in a..." Doofenshmirtz slowly trailed off. "right... shoe... Anyways, where were we? Ah, yes. Backstory. As I'm sure you have already experienced, it's very hard to look at me in this outfit and not laugh, even though it's not actually funny. People should really pity me for this, but after that whole incident, I've decided not to do that again. So I built the Not-Funny-Inator!"
Doofenshmirtz gestured to the middle of his apartment, where smoke started pouring out of cracks in the ceiling. Dramatically, a hole opened in the floor, and the shadow of an inator, visible through the fog, started rising on a podium. The inator itself looked pretty menacing - a handheld device with a square holster, a bunch of rings around it to make it look like a laser gun, and a front end which suddenly narrowed to an almost menacing point.
Then the smoke cleared, revealing it to be just a plush doll of a platypus, propped up on its tail, with pins sticking out of it in certain places.
Doofenshmirtz's eyes widened. He rushed to the doll, picked it up, and hid it away, hoping that Perry hadn't seen anything.
"Um, that was, umm..., well, it wasn't voodoo, Perry the Platypus, I can tell you that. Voodoo is actually frowned upon in Drusselstinian culture. What we actually do is a ritual called Ledermachen, which is where you pull the pins out of a plush doll instead of sticking them in, because, uhh..." Doofenshmirtz searched for an appropriate analogy. "You know how it hurts more to peel off a bandaid than it does getting the cut in the first place? Same idea."
Perry rolled his eyes, clamping his mouth shut so as not to laugh.
"You know," said Doofenshmirtz, "I think you will be the first person I shoot with my Not-Funny-Inator. Just as soon as I find it..."
The evil scientist bent over, scouring every inch if his apartment for his inator. Agent P sighed.
Suddenly, he leapt up. "Darn it!" he screamed, having just realized an important fact. "Now I'm not getting my promotion!"
Well, that ends part 1. Now, if you need to see how this ends, you could always read part 2, aka the next chapter.