ThePro-LifeCatholic: And I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaack! (Man, I keep telling myself that I should re-start Wanted: Dead or Destroyed, and I don't.)

*shrugs* Anyhoo, this story might help me get back in business…Phineas and Ferb fanfic-writing, to be more precise.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phineas and Ferb, or any other characters in the show. I do own the dog "agent" in this chapter (she will be appearing throughout the story), and I own this fanfic and the infinitely crazy idea behind it.

Carl noticed when something was off at the OWCA main Headquarters (of the U.S.) pretty quickly. Maybe it was because of the fact that he had been working there for several years. Being the camera-man/janitor/odd-jobber/do-mostly-anything-t he-Major-told-him-to-do kind of guy, Carl Karl knew the huge building inside and out. He knew when everything was just right, and it never took him long to find out if everything just…wasn't. So what was causing the red-haired teen to start, and for little sirens to blare in his mind?

It wasn't the duck, who was busily scooping up a pile of papers that he had dropped, causing pages to fly everywhere. It wasn't the small group of agents who were hanging around, talking and drinking coffee instead of working. It wasn't the water cooler (last time Carl had taken a drink from that cooler, he found himself sipping a cup full of buttermilk), or the fact that a potted plant was sitting in the middle of the long hallway. No, these things were not considered odd by him. It was the dog that caught his attention. A dog that he couldn't remember ever seeing before.

It was a tall dog, with a long neck, slender, gold-brown body, and long legs. Her ears were triangular and stuck straight up. Behind her, a long, bushy tail trailed after her. Between her ears rested a fedora. Not one of the light-brown fedoras, or a white one with a dark brown band (the types of fedoras worn by recruits), but a chocolate-brown fedora with a dark brown band, characteristic of a full-fledged agent of the OWCA. She was walking at a leisurely pace on all four legs, her head held erect and lifting her legs in such a fashion that Carl immediately guessed show-dog. Hearing Carl's approaching footsteps, the dog slowed and turned. After a few moments of the two simply staring at each other, Carl cleared his throat.

"Do you need something?" he asked, trying to sound polite and also trying to figure out if this dog had ever been to the agency before. The dog looked around, deliberating the question.

"Are you, by any chance, Carl Karl?" the dog finally answered. Carl wasn't fazed at all when the dog answered him in English. He knew that Major Monogram had ordered a shipment of translators just last week, to see if they would be any good to the agency. Apparently, they were working fine.

"Yes, I'm Carl."

"The major sent me to get you. He wants you to get an agent's file for him." Carl blinked. They had no shortage of agent's files.

"Do you know which file he wants?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes; he wants a file belonging to a certain Lyla Lolliberry. He said he wanted to update her file and include an escapade of some kind involving a platypus. Something about it being located with the other H Files." Carl started.

The H Files….? Only two people in this entire division of the OWCA knew about the H Files, what they stood for, and why none of the agents knew about them. And those two people were Carl Karl and Major Francis Monogram. Carl also believed that, in her division, Admiral Wanda Acronym knew about these mysterious files.

"Who told you this again?" he asked.

"The major. Major Monogram. Who else?" Carl nodded, turned, and walked back the way he came. Around one bend, down a hallway, right, then left. Finally he reached a door located by itself in one of the far ends of the OWCA Headquarters. The dog's ears pricked at the sound of jingling keys, and the door creaked open. Carl looked around for a little, then turned back to the dog.

"It seems that the doorstop was misplaced," he explained, chuckling nervously. "Could you keep this door open for me, and make sure it doesn't close? It locks automatically once it shuts." The dog nodded and stepped forwards, leaning on the door. Carl smiled gratefully, and walked into the dark room. Flicking the switch, he stared at the massive room that he had just entered.

It was so much larger than what it appeared to be on the outside. Running up the walls, from the floor to the ceiling, were boxes. Metal file boxes, listed in alphabetical order. The OWCA had been around before technology, and the earlier leaders of the organization needed a way to keep all the information regarding the agents as they came and went in order. They had no options but to write everything down. As the years passed, writing the files was not a necessity, but it was continued anyway. Technology could fail. What if something happened that caused the OWCA Main Computer to lose all of the information stored within it?

The dog waited until she was sure that Carl wasn't looking her way before pulling a potted plant (which was conveniently sitting there) in front of the door and entering the file chamber herself. She stopped, seeing Carl at the far end of the room. Getting out his keys, the teen inserted it into one of the last file boxes, turning it right, then left, then pulling the file box away from the wall and disappearing behind it. Hurrying forward, the dog ducked and peered down.

A secret entrance? she thought to herself. Don't mind if I do. It closed just as she went through, and she stifled a yelp as it caught the end of her tail.

This secret room was smaller than the main file chamber, and in big metal letters on the far wall were the words: H FILES of the OWCA.

Carl made his way to where the "L" files would be found. He froze, hearing a thump and what sounded like someone muttering under their breath. Absolute silence followed. Carl continued looking, wary for any strange noise. Opening a box with the letters "Lol" on it, he began leafing through the pages.

"Lolliberry, Lolliberry," he muttered. A crash caused him to jump three feet in the air. The keys dropped from his hands, and his glasses almost fell off his face. Without thinking he raced to the sound and stopped dead in his tracks. The dog "agent" was standing over a mess of fallen file boxes. Paper was everywhere. She looked up at him, grinned, then grabbed a stack in her mouth (being careful not to touch the paper with her tongue) and tore back to the secret entrance. Carl leapt after her.

Reaching the exit to the file chamber before Carl, the dog kicked aside the plant. The door shut behind her, and the lock clicked. Carl banged on the door, shouting as loudly as he could.

"Stop that dog! Get those papers! Anyone! Stop her!"

A gander (male goose) agent heard Carl's frantic yells, and saw the dog run past him a second later. Giving a loud war squawk, the gander began chasing the dog, wings flapping. He was joined by a cat, a goat, two hamsters, and the duck.

The dog made it through the exit doors and raced down the street, the six agents in hot pursuit. The gander took to the sky, honking and diving. The duck was also flying, but seemed to be off to a shaky start. With a cry he tripped (in the air) and fell, landing on the goat who fell onto the cat who nearly squashed the hamsters.

"Watch what you're doing, Darold!" the goat bleated angrily.

"Sorry!" Darold quacked back.

"This is no time to argue," the cat snapped. "It was an accident, Gertrude. Now let's get going."

Darold nodded and flew off as quickly as he could, not wanting the other agents to hear the laughter he was trying to hold back. Some people (and animals) were so easy to lie to.

The gander was faring better than the others. With terrific force he dove, slamming into the dog's side. The dog fell over on her side, releasing the papers into the air. The bird and the dog scrambled to collect the papers, but the gander was awkward on land. The dog knew this, and did everything in her power to keep him on the ground. When she could see no more papers, she dealt the gander a final hard blow, knocking him flat. The other agents were coming up the road, but they were too far away. She would make a clean getaway. She glanced towards the gander.

"You can tell your major that he should've seen this coming," she growled around the paper in her mouth. "It doesn't matter how good an organization claims to be or to what noble end it aspires to. Even the best of places does things downright bad." She turned away. "Oh, yes, and if you get a chance, maybe you should ask Monogram about the H. Files." Without another word she ran down the street. The agents reached the gander shortly afterward. They couldn't do anything more about the dog and whatever she stole, so they started back to the agency.

The dog didn't notice it, and neither did the agents. None of them saw that one stray piece of paper, tossed by the wind, had sailed over the wooden gate surrounding a house. They didn't see it get trapped amongst the leaves in the branches of a tall tree. At the top of the paper, in large, bold letters, were the words: FOR EYES ONLY. Whatever else was written on that paper was hidden from sight in the thick green foliage.

Author's Note: How was it? Good? Bad? So-so? I haven't written for Phineas and Ferb in a while, so forgive me if anything seems ooc (Out Of Character).

God bless and have a great day (or night)!