Hi there! Hope you like this. I know, kinda like a World War Z and Dark Shadows mix into Phineas and Ferb. That's how I wanted it. Thanks to my favorite authors, who write PF stories, I decided to write my own. So, enjoy!

Chapter 1: Prince James the II

There is a thing my family must never know. I am not a platypus. I am Prince James the II, from 1776. I was a delegate in the Continental Congress. I know what you're thinking. "Prince? There was no prince fighting for independence in 1776!" But I was. Benjamin Franklin's little 10 years old boy. My real father, King George the III, was the reason I left. When he found out that I was secretly helping the Americans, he wanted me behead!

Ben took me in. A girl Loyalist got mad. She thought I was a traitor to the King! She, of course, had to be a witch. On July 6, 1776 I was ripped from humanity and erased from history. King George the III never had a son. I was never born. Then I turned into a platypus and sent to the future, so I wouldn't be a problem. I was ten. It's been six years since then.

Wind roused around me, whipping my fur. I slowly opened my eyes and stood up. I was in the old streets of Danville. The sky was rust red with a few clouds. "James," a voice breathed behind me. I turned. It was the witch, Michelle. With gorgeous black hair, blue eyes, and those bad girl boots, she was gorgeous. But I knew what she really was. A demon. "What are you doing?" "Since you helped me, James, I will fix you." "Not on my life! I trust you as much as I can throw that building!" I pointed at the biggest, tallest, and heaviest building I could find. "Fine then. You want to play the hard way? You get the hard way!" I started to run. The last thing I saw and felt was blackness.

Dr. Doofenshmirtz

"Aah," I sighed as the hot water started falling. Soon I was lost in a mist of heat and smoke. "Ring! Ring!" I groaned. "Maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away," I thought. Nope. "Ring! Ring! Heinz!" "Fine!" "Maybe I should invent a inetor that gets rid of phones," I thought as I wrapped myself up in a towel and walked to the phone. "Yes?" I asked, picking up the phone. "Come out here!" a gruff booming voice yelled. Outside, Mr. Gruff, real name is Mr. Vic, with a 16-year-old boy.