Miscellaneous
Honestly, there was pretty much only one story I had running around in the background. The idea was to create another PnF story that could pass for an episode. Here it is so far:
[Proof]
Isabella had no sooner woken up one morning than her doorbell rang.
She walked groggily from her bedroom to the door, wondering who could possibly be at their house this early in the morning. The only other people who she knew would be up and about at such an hour were Phineas and Ferb. They always did like to get a head start on the day. Even as school started, and dragged on into mid-spring, the brothers awoke each morning with the same bright attitude. In particular, weekends such as this one presented a golden opportunity to get something done.
Isabella swung open the door, and lo and behold, it was Phineas himself standing in the entranceway. Her eyes widened.
"Hey, Isabella," he greeted quickly, taking a nervous glance behind him. "Can I come in?"
Was he... begging?
Never one to turn down a friend in need, Isabella welcomed Phineas inside. The boy hesitantly rushed in, and hurriedly closed the door behind him. The redhead then took extra care to stay out of sight of any and all windows.
"Is something wrong?" Isabella asked, noticing Phineas's unusual behavior.
Phineas shrugged her off. "No, nothing's wrong."
"But you look scared," Isabella continued.
"If you were in my position, you would be, too," said Phineas.
"Why?" Isabella asked. "Are you hiding from something?"
"Someone," corrected Phineas. "Ferb."
Isabella gasped. "What?! Did you get in a fight with Ferb?!"
"Not a fight," Phineas corrected again. "A war."
"How can you be warring with Ferb?!" Isabella demanded, incredulous. "You two are, like, inseparable!"
"That's the truce working," explained Phineas. "Three hundred and sixty-four days a year, we are completely at peace. But every first of April, it's on. Me against Ferb, engaged in a twenty-four hour prank war for supremacy. This year will be the hardest yet."
Isabella smiled with realization. What better way to celebrate April Fool's day than to try and out-prank your stepbrother.
She had only one problem with it. "But isn't it—"
Phineas cut her off. "Shh! I think I hear someone coming."
The sound of floorboards creaking confirmed Phineas's suspicions. Both kids waited in silence, afraid of what might come around the corner.
Vivian Garcia-Shapiro stepped into view, and the kids breathed a sigh of relief.
"I came over here because I'm scared of how Ferb will retaliate," confessed Phineas. "For the pre-game, I switched his toothpaste with his hair dye."
"I knew his green locks couldn't be real," exclaimed Isabella.
"Yeah, well, now his teeth aren't real, either," said Phineas.
"I wonder what his hair looks like normally," Isabella thought aloud.
In a bathroom across the street, Ferb was frantically squeezing green dye out of his toothpaste tube and rubbing it all over his naturally plaid hair.
"Better not to think about it," replied Phineas, as if there had never been a cutaway.
Isabella heeded his advice, and changed the subject. "So why are you—"
But Phineas was nowhere to be seen. The redhead had spied a tuft of green hair out of the corner of his eye, and left without making a sound.
Isabella looked around frantically. "Where's Phineas?" she asked nobody in particular.
At a nearby intersection, a mindless teal platypus was lazily standing around for no reason in particular. He nonchalantly looked left, then casually looked right, then nonchalantly looked left again. However, instead of crossing the street, the sidewalk tile beneath Perry opened up, and he fell into the empty space below him.
Whilst in midair, the secret agent donned the fedora marking him as a member of OWCA, and effortlessly landed perfectly in the red swiveling chair in his hideout.
On the screen in front of him, Major Monogram was frantically applying stage makeup and putting on his uniform.
"Sir!" Carl urgently whispered from off-screen. "You're live!"
"What?!" Major Monogram was now messing around with the nearly invisible headset he wore, trying desperately to reattach it to his wig, and above all hoping not to make a fool of himself. As if he hadn't by now...
He then saw Perry awaiting orders.
"Oh! Agent P! Umm... Hold on just a second here, I'm almost ready."
The Major buttoned his top button and pressed the water-based purple MM tattoo onto his olive green shirt.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," he counted, then peeled the wet paper off to reveal the sloppily applied status symbol on his uniform. Mr. Frances Monogram then gave himself one last squirt of actor's perfume, took a deep breath, and began his briefing.
"I'm afraid Doofenshmirtz is at it again," he confessed to Perry. "We decided to try using more... conventional methods to gather intelligence for this mission, so we sent out our scouts to observe him in the street and see what he was up to."
An insert in the corner of the screen showed the back of Carl, who was comically dressed up in a deerstalker and overcoat, with a pipe in his mouth. On the other side of the street was the unmistakeable white lab coat of Doofenshmirtz, and the intern could be seen peering at the scientist from afar through his magnifying glass.
"The results were," Monogram shuddered, "disturbing."
"He bought no less than forty-eight six-packs of soda," Carl confirmed, shuddering. "That's two hundred and eighty-eight cans of soda! And, from the stains on his lab coat, I'm guessing those weren't the first two hundred eighty-eight, either."
"Two hundred and eighty-eight!" the Major echoed. "There aren't even that many milliliters in a can!"
"Two hundred and sixty-five," Carl confirmed. "A difference of twenty-three."
"I can math, Carl," Monogram said coldly.
"But can you grammar?" came the response.
"Good luck, Agent P," came the end of the conversation.
Prank wars!
Oh, a new day's begun
There's a whole lotta fun
'Cause it's April, day one
It's time for prank wars!
...
Oh, there's laughs to be had
Lots of tricks, good and bad
Outwit them, make 'em mad
It's time for prank wars!
...
Prank wa-a-ars!
When he turns himself invisible and wedgies you
Retaliation is a must: what will you do?
You could paint his bedroom windows black
Or jump him, stuff him in a sack
Or shrink him 'till he's minuscule
Or give him a fake diamond jew'l
Or teleport him overseas
Or say that he's isosceles
Or even make him turn ninety degrees
(In front of Stumblegimpians)
It's time for prank wars!
...
Oh, we're joking around
Knocking each other down
In high-def, surround sound
It's time for prank wars!
Oh, we merrily play
Lots of tricks the whole day
It's the very best way
It's time for prank wars!
Prank wa-a-ars!
Every time you cross the street
Pay attention to your feet
'Cause you never know when they might step on a trap that shoots you into the sky and through the clouds onto a pile of last week's dirty bedsheeeeeeeeeeeets
It's time for prank wars!
[End proof]
There were a few songs I had written and not published as well, but I decided to compile those into their own album. That will be published separately, and will contain all 30 of my original songs, one per chapter. So I guess this concludes everything miscellaneous I have to share with you.