July: a peaceful suburban backyard glistened in dew-covered early morning. The Flynn-Fletcher residence basked in the light of fresh-from-the-sun rays. Already a hot hazy day, a scant breeze of cool morning air fluttered the curtains of Candace Flynn's open window. The teenager, sleeping deeply, shifted slightly.
A loud "pop" echoed through the open window and Candace flew up from her bed. She landed back in a rumple of sheets, creating a girl shaped dent in the mattress. Through the ringing of her ears, a boy's faint voice said "That was good, but it needs more…fa-BOW!"
With a growl of irritation, the oldest of the Flynn-Fletcher siblings buried her head beneath a pile of pink paisley pillows.
Crack! "Still not quite it," the same voice said.
Sizzle!
Ping!
Squeak!
Boing!
Screech!
With each sound, Candace buried herself deeper and deeper into her bed, until her sisterly restraint broke.
Throwing the covers off, she stormed to her gable window, her brothers' names just about to leave her lips when an enormous BOOM! exploded from her back yard. A wave of sound washed over the entire tri-state area. Buildings swayed with the sonic output. Far downtown, the sound waves swept hats off of men walking the streets, and a hairy English sheep dog got a close shave haircut.
"Whoa!" Under the backyard tree, step-brothers Phineas and Ferb lay where the explosion of noise landed them, flat on their backsides and hair blown straight back from their heads. Phineas punched his hands in the air. "Now that's more like it!"
Inside, arms and legs flailed from the dormer ceiling, desperately trying to push a head out of the drywall. Somehow Candace managed to get her hands and knees into an upside-down kneeling position and gave an almighty shove. With a crumble of sheetrock, Candace fell to the window seat. She landed on her back, right eye twitching at the ever-present and inescapable fact that her brothers were the most impossible beings on the planet, and quite possibly the universe.
A steaming volcano of anger boiled from her toes up to her drywall-coated hair. Shaking her head to get the loose dust off, she let loose with a resounding "Phineas and Ferb!"
The high-pitched wall of sound uprooted trees and broke every window in the neighborhood. The rest of the ceiling crumbled and fell around Candace's head.
"Oh hi, Candace!" Phineas shouted, unnaturally loud even for him.
Ferb looked upside down from his backside and waved to where his sister hung her head out the window.
Candace looked from one brother to another, and then at the worst mess she had ever seen in her back yard. Every prior wild invention paled in comparison to the pieces of who-knew-what blown by two noise blasts across the yard. Papers of complex calculations flapped limply in the humid breeze; wires, pieces of metal, and drifts of leftovers littered the lawn. Most ominously, barrels of many colored powders spilled their contents onto the grass. It may not have been more materials than any other project, but whereas any other day it would have been organized neatly into the most useful order, today it looked like nothing so much as an invention landfill.
Seeing her little brothers blown amidst the rubble set Candace's heart skipping. Surely this time they'd gone too far, and one of their crazy stunts had finally hurt them like she'd feared every day since the first day of summer.
Then Ferb jumped up with the ease of an acrobat, gave a hand to Phineas, then dusted himself off.
Fury replaced worry when she saw that once again, her brothers thwarted all natural laws of science. "How do you manage to do these things?! You can't possibly defy every law of science and still come out ahead! Don't you realize what you put me through every day? What are you even doing? Is that gunpowder I smell?!"
The brothers watched as Candace waved her arms and shouted until she was blue in the face, not reacting except for an occasional blink and look of mild interest.
Candace threw up her hands in frustration. "Why has Mom not heard this?" she wondered aloud to herself. She stormed off in search of the erstwhile parent.
In the dawn's early light, Phineas contemplated the empty window. "I wonder if she knows it's only 6 a.m.?" he said in the same loud voice he had greeted Candace with.
Ferb tapped Phineas on the shoulder.
"Oh, right," yelled Phineas. An invisible helmet-head system 2.0 came off Phineas' head, complete with ear mufflers. "These new helmets are great. I didn't hear a thing!" He paused. "Huh. I hope whatever Candace was saying wasn't important."
Candace stormed down the hall. "Mom! Mom! Mooooooom!" The master bedroom door bowed under Candace's pounding. She continued to hammer until she looked like an avocado plastered, nightgown robed banshee.
A groggy voice from the other side of the door said "Candace, this clock had better be wrong and it's not 6:06 in the morning!"
Candace stopped knocking and looked at the cuckoo clock in the hall, which did not read 6:06, but 6:02.
"Well?" Her mom asked.
Backing quietly away from the door, Candace said, "Oh, just…happy Fourth of July."
As she tiptoed downstairs towards the kitchen and the back door, Candace heard her mom say, "that couldn't have waited two more hours?" Candace decided that comment didn't need an answer.
Throwing open the sliding door to the back yard, Candace blinked into the bright sun. Everything from the colorful powders to the blueprints was gone, replaced by a tranquil early morning scene and Phineas and Ferb sitting placidly underneath their tree with another round of blueprints.
"W-w-what happened?" Candace stuttered. "Where did everything go? And why did Mom not hear anything?"
"That's the last of it, Phineas!" Girl-next-door Isabella led her troop of Fireside girls into the yard. Candace could just see an overflowing dumpster jutting above the fence.
"Thanks, Isabella," Phineas told her.
The troop saluted, broke into giggles, then left. Isabella turned back and said, "we'll be back later. We're taking this to the recycling center."
"Well, that explains the mess, but how was I the only one to hear the racket you were making?" Candace asked.
"Did you have your window open?" Phineas asked.
"Yeah, it's already like ninety degrees outside. But I'll bet they heard that fifty miles away! A window wouldn't have made a difference."
"Of course not! That's why we soundproofed the houses around the neighborhood this morning before we started testing. But it only works if everything's closed up. So you heard it, but Mom and Dad didn't 'cause their window was closed," Phineas said, in a tone that suggested he didn't understand why he had to explain such a simple thing to his older and wiser sister.
Loud noises, soundproofed houses, the lingering smell of gunpowder, and Candace still had to ask the obvious question that her brothers could not see. "You know, I get kind of tired of even having to ask, but what are you doing?"
"Oh, we're…" Phineas started excitedly.
"I mean, it's not like we go through the same routine every day, but I have to ask."
Candace stalked a circle around the tree and the boys.
"See, we're…"
"You think you'd just tell me after a while!" A shower of leaves fell on Candace from the branch her waving arms hit.
A large sheet of paper blocked her path. Ferb held up blueprints with complex calculations and diagrams with marked dimensions.
Candace took it and studied it, turned it upside-down, backwards, and folded it in on itself, flipping the creased flaps quickly back and forth. "I don't speak nerdeese," she scowled.
"It's Independence Day!" Phineas exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "And the best and most traditional way to celebrate is fireworks! We're designing our own display, with music and laser lights, and our own 'specially designed fireworks!"
Candace's jaw dropped. "You guys are making your own fireworks?"
"Well, we could just buy the fireworks, but why get the same ol' fireworks everyone else has when you can make your own?!" Phineas said. Candace got the feeling that Phineas thought she couldn't comprehend such a simple concept.
A hundred different arguments fell onto each other as they fought for voice and jumbled into indignant splutters. "Light fireworks? When mom wakes up and finds out you're playing with fire…"
"Candace," Phineas interrupted with a reassuring laugh. "We aren't lighting the fireworks! According to state regulations these," he motioned to the schematics, "are far more volatile than consumer fireworks. We don't have a license to set these off, but the Danville Fire Department does."
Unbridled vexation ricocheted from Candace's glare and off her brother's shield of innocent enthusiasm. So they weren't actually lighting them. They still blew up the yard and her eardrums. Yet with no evidence – the yard looking as clean as it did after dad mowed it yesterday – there was no point in disturbing her parents' sleep.
The pink terrycloth bow holding Candace's robe together slipped apart as a weight pulled one end. Parry laid on the trailing end of the tie.
"Oh, there you are, Perry," said Phineas. Perry chattered as Ferb pulled the platypus off of the robe.
Candace pulled the robe back together. "Well, until you come up with another mess, I'm going to get dressed. Stacy and I are helping Jenny with the protest in the park."
"That's cool. What are you protesting?" asked Phineas
"I don't know." Candace shrugged dismissively, "Jenny kind of just talked us into it."
"She's good at that," said Phineas.
"Say, what do you wear to a protest?"
"Why don't you wear what you already wear? You know, red top, smart white skirt, red socks, white mary-janes? It's two thirds patriotic already; just add something blue."
Ferb pulled out a silky blue scarf.
"Rrrgh, you're hopeless," Candace cried. The sliding door shook as Candace threw it open. "Especially for someone who's had a hit in the fashion world. I still don't understand that one…" Her voice faded and disappeared into the house along with its owner.
"Hey Phineas," Isabella returned with Buford and Baljeet, neighborhood bully and nerd respectively. Isabella had met them on her way back from the recycling center. "What'cha doin' now?"
"I'm glad you asked," Phineas said. The sun slowly crept up from behind the back fence as he mounted the drafting board he had been working on. Addressing the assembled friends, he said, "I bet you're all wondering why I've called you here today." He paused for dramatic effect.
Buford answered, "We're here every day, dinnerbell! It's a standing, open-ended invitation!"
Phineas decided that Buford had a point and he deserved that answer to the rhetorical question. "Today is a special day here at the Flynn-Fletcher house. Today, our dad celebrates his first Independence Day as a naturalized American citizen!"
The small audience cheered, and Ferb waved an American flag.
"And, as the laws of this country state, any child of a naturalized citizen – insofar as he is under the age of sixteen and unmarried," Phineas added in an undertone, "is a citizen himself, making this day Ferb's first American 4th of July as well!"
The cheering redoubled. The Star-Spangled Banner solemnly cast its melody over the fresh morning, swelling from the sunlight and the peaceful neighborhood and the red, white, and blue bunting strung across front porches,
As the anthem gained power, so did Phineas' voice and stature. A pneumatic lift whined as it carried Phineas above the small crowd. "In honor of this momentous occasion and America's birthday, we are going to orchestrate the biggest, most awesome display of pyrotechnics ever!"
Never had the Flynn-Fletcher backyard rallied with such excitement. It was as if the neighborhood, nay, the entire tri-state area reverberated with the energetic excitement of the small band of friends.
Jumping from the lift, Phineas landed back on the drafting board. He lunged forward, pointing at each friend in turn. "Ok, team, let's split up. Buford, you'll be in charge of the raw materials and making them into the stars that will provide the color and sparkle. Isabella," Isabella snapped to attention, "you and the fireside girls pack the stars into shells with the bursting and lift charges."
Isabella saluted.
Phineas went on, "Baljeet will start wiring the mortars to our custom control panel, and Ferb and I will set up the launch site. Blueprints are on the left, safety gear is on the right. We have new sound-proof invisible helmet-heads, and fire-proof suits for everyone." Phineas tugged at his hand and the skin pulled away like an orange peel. Everyone recoiled with a unanimous "ew!" Laughing, Phineas showed them a glove that exactly conformed to his hand. "The suits are skin-tight, but completely breathable. They mold to your skin so you don't even know you're wearing it! Ferb and I have been wearing ours all morning."
Lined up on a clothing rack were full bodied suits, exactly replicating the shapes and outfits of the boys' usual helpers. On top, matching invisi-helmets sat, giving the illusion of nine limp doppelgangers.
Phineas quickly counted the suits, scratching his head in puzzlement. "Hey, where's Perry's suit?"
One stray shell rolled along the grass, bumping lightly into the backyard tree. Slowly it rolled backwards, teetering to a stop on a slight lump in the otherwise perfectly level ground. The lump depressed with a faint mechanical click. A hole opened, dropping the shell into the ground. It shot down a narrow opening, barely large enough to allow the ball to roll through. Friction rubbed the casing until it sparked and ignited the fuse, and a comet tail of sparks propelled the rocket towards the center of the earth.
The shell exploded in a wide burst of greens, with bright orange sparks in the center. From the heart of the fire, a menacing duck-billed, beaver-tailed secret agent sailed into a once pristine high-tech den, now scarred with black and with pieces of expensive-looking equipment radiating outwards from the center of the explosion.
Clutching a fedora to his head, Perry the Platypus landed in the control center chair. Lights flashed as hard drives whirred to life, brought out of hibernation as Perry manipulated levers and buttons.
He settled into his chair, waiting for the video conference to begin. Nothing happened. Mechanical snow filled the screen, hissing static the only sound in the room.
The screen jumped as Perry twiddled the levers again, but nothing changed. Perry scratched his head, puzzled. Cautiously, as if expecting something to explode, Perry pushed a big red button marked "Emergency".
The whole wall behind the screen fell forwards. The viewing screen broke a hole in the drywall, which fell with a crash that shook the foundation around the chair where Perry sat. The control board collapsed in a shower of sparks, scarring the floor with more black burn marks.
"Woo-whoo-hoo" Startled yells echoed though the residual cracks of falling drywall and sizzles of live electrical ends.
Perry uncurled himself from the standard tuck and cover protective position to survey the damage. Through the settling dust Major Monogram of OWCA stared awkwardly, frozen as one catches a deer in the headlights.
"Pay no attention to the man behind the wall!" Skinny arms and legs belonging to befreckled and bespectacled intern Carl attempted to draw Perry's attention away from his startled superior.
Being a mammal of few words, Perry said nothing but remained seated, awaiting his mission with an all-business air.
Carl felt quite foolish waving his arms like a windmill. He should have known that wouldn't work. His arms fell dejectedly. Major Monogram still stood locked in a position that suggested he had ducked from the downfall, with arms protecting his head and one leg in midair from an interrupted leap out of the way. His eyes locked on the non-existent barrier.
Silence settled with the remains; even the wreckage seemed to hold its breath to see who would move first.
One errant bit of drywall, clinging to its former home by one last wire fell with a disproportionate crash.
Carl jumped, and this seemed to revive the Major, who straightened resignedly. "He's not buying it, Carl," he said. "We'll just have to do this old-school." He tidied his uniform and smoothed his hair to a semi-presentable state. Addressing his agent, Monogram began, "Doof's activities have been…" he paused, scowling at the scene. "This isn't working for me. Carl, bring up Mission Briefing System 1.0"
A bulky apparatus wheeled into the newly opened room. It halted some four feet in front of the major, creaking like a rusty swing. Six feet tall it stood, with a bony structure of black metal supporting a large box with a screen. Below that, two smaller rectangles with buttons and lights stacked one on top of the other.
Perry watched Carl carry in a tripod and camera, then struggle with cords and cables until finally Major Monogram's close-up appeared on what Perry realized was a dusty old projection TV, and beneath that a VCR.
The old-school setup must have come from the deepest bowels of OWCA storage, which, on closer inspection, the newly discovered room appeared to be. Why it was behind Perry's lair underneath the Flynn-Fletcher house, Perry had no idea.
"Ah," Major Monogram sighed in relief. "That's better." The TV setup didn't manage to hide his torso, arms, or legs, which Perry could see as the Major stood behind the portable setup to speak to the camera. "As I was saying, Dr. D has been unusually active on social media as of late. You know, Myplace, Flitter – honestly, we're surprised he even knows how to use those; we suspect his daughter is helping him. That much stalking can't mean anything good – find out who he's contacting and why."
Perry saluted and the screen went to static.
As Agent P left, Monogram turned to his assistant and said, "well, back to it. That Star-Spangled leotard won't find itself."
"And after the apple pie scented fireworks, the acrobats will fly through the fireballs." From the edge of the Danville commercial access harbor, Phineas directed the helicopter to place two more mortars and a high wire connection. Standing beside, Ferb piloted the helicopter while a dozen marigold-clad Fireside Girls constructed trapeze scaffolding.
"Hey Phineas," Isabella broke away from her team. "Mayor Doofenschmirtz wants to know if you can arrange a finale for the parade and a special presentation at the festival in the park."
"Sure," said Phineas.
From above, a vaguely bird-shaped creature with a beaver-tail and a jet-pack flew over the construction, across downtown, then over the suburbs.
Glancing down, two familiar teen girls walked up to the front porch of a slightly out of place ranch house. Neatly trimmed lawns and precise edgings disappeared into a woodland scene. Birdfeeders and birdhouses stood elevated on poles or clung to trees, overflowing with seeds and nests. Mounds of flowerbeds, carefully cultivated to look like they were straight out of the wild, flowed through the trees and spilled onto the cobbled path.
Stacy rang the doorbell and Jenny, third of Candace's trio of gal-pals, hurried out the door. She carried two handfuls of painted cardboard signs and balanced a large binder in the crook of her arm. "Are you guys ready?" she asked as Candace took a handful of signs and Stacy grabbed the binder as it slipped from Jenny's arm.
"Thanks," Jenny said. "It's so great that you guys are coming along to help. This'll be fun!"
Striding ahead, Jenny missed the look of helpless "well, we did offer to help her," exchanged between Candace and Stacy.
Stacy sped up to a trot to catch up. "What exactly are we protesting?"
"It's not a protest, it's the "Save the Parks Rally," Jenny said. "Mayor Doofenschmirtz has started an initiative to protect the Tri-state areas endangered wildlife where birds and animals can live in safety and peace."
Candace swore she saw a halo hovering over Jenny's head. She certainly had an other-worldy look on her face as she imagined a world where all creatures lived in peace.
The girls talked animatedly as they walked the ten blocks to the park, about anything from boys to fashion to boys. Two blocks from Jenny's house, Candace spotted a familiar green-haired boy in purple pands carrying an armload of large firecrackers. She stopped in her tracks.
Stacy ran into her. Candace pointed down the street where Ferb just disappeared around the corner. "Stacy, did you see my brother?"
Stacy pushed her from behind, and Jenny pulled at her arm. "Not now, Candace," Jenny pulled her insistently. "We have to be set up before the festival gets into full swing!"
Candace didn't have a chance to object. Jenny and Stacy practically drug her the rest of the way to the park.
Everyone seemed to be out playing in the park in the perfect holiday setting; Pet owners played with their dogs and some picnickers merrily unpacked barbeques and charcoal, blankets and baskets.
Danville City Park spread out and down from a low, flat hill towards the west side, falling to open grassy areas shaded by strategically placed trees. On top of the hill, a barrier of trees blocked the view to the north, and on the far south side, a rush filled pond sparkled in the mid day light.
Jenny, Stacy, and Candace surveyed the layout, choosing a sunny spot on top of the hill near the edge and the pond. Opposite them on the other end of the hill, six figures of vastly different sizes and all wearing lab coats had started setting up shop. The two formed an undefined oval of emptiness, outside of which revelers spilled like a gentle fountain down the slight pitch.
"Now, you can hand out pamphlets," Jenny handed a stack of glossy papers to Stacy, "and you can use your incredibly impressive diaphragm to project our message across the park." Jenny handed Candace a megaphone.
"Hey!" Candace shouted in that very voice. Jenny smiled pointedly and handed her a sign.
Over the next few minutes, a few more people arrived, then a few more, until a decent gathering of a dozen milled around setting up tables and tents.
The organization on the other side grew in numbers as well.
"Looks like we've got competition," Stacy said, looking pointedly across the hill.
Two of the pharmacists – for as they were all wearing lab coats, what else could they be - fastened a banner between poles laid on the ground for easy access. The words were not visible, neither was anything that revealed what they supported.
Jenny watched for a moment, then turned back cheerfully to her balloon inflation. "There's plenty of room here. All that matters is that we're saving the world together. Or at least, we're saving the Tri-State Area's natural parks."
The pharmacists - or whatever they were - pulled and pushed their banner poles into place. Jenny, Stacy, and Candace watched as a light breeze caught the banner, revealing the words "NO MORE NATURE."
"Uh-oh," Stacy said, watching her passionate activist friend and her zealous friend's reactions.
"Oh, they are going down!" Candace and Jenny said together, faces full of grit and determination.
"This is not going to end well," said Stacy.