Django ran home as soon as he picked up his art supplies, barging in the door while his mom was cooking. "Hey mom."
"Hey DJango. How was your day?" his mom asked.
"It was fun. Phineas and Ferb made another awesome project and Mrs. Thompson lent me a book to borrow," Django answered.
"That sounds fun, dear. Dinner is in the fridge. Warm it up in the microwave for a minute. Don't forget to put it in a glass bowl. Remember what happened when you put it in a plastic bowl?" his mom asked, Django remembering his microwave on fire.
"Okay mom," he said, grabbing his food in the fridge.
"Your dad is going to be late because he is presenting that new art piece he made the other day," his mom started.
"Oh yeah, I love that one. He made a giant TV and a giant remote control. That was awesome," Django said.
"I also have to go give a tour of my work place. I will try to be back at nine, but your father might be back earlier," his mom said, her watch ringing. "Oh look. I have to go. See you later Django," his mom said, running out of the house.
After his mom left, Django grabbed his dinner from the microwave and took it to a table next to his desk. "Alright, time to start drawing," he said, taking out his pen, pencil and eraser from his bag.
After minutes of eating and staring at his paper, Django yelled, "Man, I can't think of anything to draw!" but then looking at the TV, he added, "I guess I can watch some TV," taking the remote and turning on the TV.
Hours of Jeopardy later...
"There," he said, completing his drawing of his parents. "This took me a while, actually," he said to himself, putting the picture down and then looking at the book he got from his teacher.
"I guess I can started reading this," he said, picking up the book to show the cover with a kid running from cartoon monsters.
At first, he started reading from the seat for his desk, then he layed on the ground, and the followed by going onto his bed and reading.
*YAWN* "I guess I should go to sleep now," he said, putting his book down next to his lamp and getting in his blanket before falling asleep. But just as he fell asleep, his drawing started to pop out of the paper.
"Oh son," someone said outside the door, knocking on the door before coming in the house.
Looking at his son, his father said to himself, "Awe, isn't he so cute?"
But surprisingly, he recieved a respond, "Yes, yes he is. But tell me, who are you?" his father freaking out.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"
"What do you mean your house? This is our house. I am Django's father and this is his mother," the replica of his father answered.
"What? But I am Django's father!" his father said.
"Nonsense. If you won't get out of my house," the replica said, holding rope and ducktape. "Then I'll just leave you here to eat with the mice," beating him before tying up his arms and legs and taping his mouth.
After the replicas hid Mr. Brown, they heard a voice say, "Honey, I'm home!"
Hearing the voice of Mrs. Brown, the father replica said, "Another one? Okay, you go deal with her," the mother replica bringing some rope and duck tape with her.
"Honey!" Mrs. Brown sang, surprised to not see her husband. "That's weird. Honey, are you listening to Justin Beiber again? You know no one thinks he's cool, right?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," the replica started, Mrs. Brown turning around after hearing her. "But you will be joining him too," knocking her out and taping her mouth and tying her limbs with rope.
"Okay, we have caught the artist's parents," the mother replica reported.
"Excellent. We will now await Phillip the Platypus for further reports, but for now, we are to act as the artist's parents, so let's go to sleep," the father replica said.
"But we don't sleep," the mother replica said.
"Did I ask you to contradict me? No I didn't, so let's go to sleep," the father replica said, the two fake parents going into the master bedroom.
The next morning, Django woke to the unusual smell of motor oil and confidence. "That's weird. This is supposed to be what Phineas and Ferb's house smells like. My house is supposed to smell like art supplies and Eggo Waffles," grabbing his art supplies and his book and running into the kitchen to see nothing there.
"Man, that's weird. I don't see anything happening. Oh well, I've got to get to art class," he said, grabbing an uncooked Eggo Waffle and left his house, his replica parents appearing from hiding.
"To think we were almost caught," the mother replica said.
"The boy doesn't get out of art class till twelve, so we have about two hours to complete this. Once we complete this, we will have complete control of the artists and with his drawing skills, we will be the rulers of this dimension!" the father replica exclaimed, breathing a deep breath. "Ah, I love being three dimensional. Go feed the prisoners," the mother replica taking food and water and bringing it to the basement.
"Here is your food," she said, bringing it down the stairs.
"Grmurgehu," Mr. Brown tried to say, his mouth being taped.
"Oh, that's right," she said, taking off his tape.
"What do you want from us?" Mr. Brown asked.
"Oh, nothing much. All we ask of is that we have full control of this 3-D dimension," the mother replica answered, force-feeding Mr. Brown and the unconscious Mrs. Brown.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"All will become known in due time," walking up the stairs, leaving Mr. Brown with so many questions.
Oh, please, let Django be alright! Mr. Brown thought, dreading the thought of his son being used by those replicas.
Django was listening to Mrs. Thompson lecture them, having his pen and pencil ready to draw. "Okay, class. Today, I will ask you to go out and draw six friends of yours, about your age, and then show the drawings to the class. I will allow you all to leave early today," everyone excited, running out the door.
"Hey Django, do you want to draw me and I draw you?" Steve asked.
"Sorry, I promised my other friends that I would draw them when my art class said I could for an assignement," Django answered.
"Don't worry, it's cool. Anyways, see you around," Steve said, walking out of the classroom.
While Django was packing, Mrs. Thompson walked up to him and asked, "So Django, have you read that book yet?"
"Yeah, it's great! I read about fifty pages last night. I love how the main character has his art supplies magically changed and able to make things real. I'm at the part where his parents get swapped with the fakes," Django answered.
"I'm glad you like it. Also, can I get you to do a favor for me?" Mrs. Thompson asked.
"Yeah, sure. What do you need?" Django asked.
"Well, your father is on the rise to fame, right? So I was wondering if I could get a drawing from him," Mrs. Thompson asked.
"Yeah, I bet he'll be happy to do this. I'll tell him about it. See you tomorrow," Django said, walking towards the door.
"Goodbye, Django. Remember, tomorrow goes back to the regular time," she said.
Walking through the streets, Django looked at his watch, saying, "Only 11 o'clock? I guess I can stop by my house before I go see Phineas," Django said, running through the streets until he got to his house.
He opened the door and walked in and said, "Mom? Dad? What are you doing here so early?" the replicas feeling in danger.
I know it's been a while, but I hope you enjoyed it. Also, the art class is my speculation about why he isn't in the series as much as he could.
I'd like to thank TaichiWind, Comment person and A Slight Insight of My World for reviewing! It really cheers me up. And I'd like to thank TaichiWind and A Slight Insight of My World for adding this story as a favorite!
Expect Date: Now that I have a real story plot lined up, I will try to update again this month. Since the chapters in this story are generally shorter than in my other, I will update probably before it.
Also, I will have a new poll on my profile regarding a new story of mine, so please stop by and vote.
