"Look, Phineas. Isn't it cute?"

"Super-cute." Phineas said. He held a volumetric flask over a Bunsen-burner. "You got the base ready, Ferb?"

Ferb put his goggles on and handed Phineas a small beaker.

Perry stretched so that his foot was on Phineas's shoulder. "Look, Phineas. I have a cute foot."

"Yes, yes you do. Hold on, Perry. This has to be perfect. I have to measure out the exact amount…"

"Foot." Perry waved it in front of Phineas's face.

The volumetric flask shattered and fell to the floor. Phineas sighed. "At this rate, we're never gonna invent the cure for everything."

"I don't know if it has to do with rate so much as the presence of my foot. You guys have been burning chemicals and acids all morning. Can we do something together now?"

"Like admire your foot?" Ferb asked.

"Yep." Perry put his foot back on the bed. "It's getting easier to move my legs now. I'll probably be able to walk around by next week."

"You would have been able to walk around five seconds ago if you hadn't put your foot in the middle of everything."

"My foot's just nosy like that." Perry said.

"No, your nose is." Ferb said.

"His foot actually is really cute." Phineas said.

"You know what else is cute?" Perry asked.

"My cow." Ferb said.

"Noooo. Making animals out of cotton balls. Let's do that. It'll give me something to do."

Devon sat in a tree, staring at Rex with his binoculars. He was disguised in a blonde wig, heart-shaped sunglasses, and a feather boa.

Rex'd never spot him.

Rex's window was on the second floor of the old motel. Devon didn't even know the name of it. The sign on the front, as the owner had told him, had fallen down in a storm.

It was the perfect place for someone to hide if they wanted to stay hidden.

Rex was lying on a beat-up old bed, staring at the ceiling. He had been doing this for quite some time.

It made Devon even more certain he wasn't the murderer. Murderers didn't stay in motels, staring at the ceiling. They went out and murdered people.

It was hard to see Rex through the heart-shaped sunglasses, but it didn't matter. Rex wasn't doing anything.

Devon was just about to leave when he heard a motorbike in the distance. He looked through his binoculars.

A lizard parked his motorbike in front of the motel. He was wearing all black from his helmet down to his boots, which had spikes on the toes.

Rex sat up at the sound. He went over to the window and looked out.

Devon pulled his wig down lower over his face so as not to be seen.

Upon seeing the lizard, Rex reached into his jacket pocket and gripped onto the handle of something. He headed deeper into the room.

Devon couldn't see him anymore.

"Hello, Reckless."

"Damien. What do you think you're…"

"I'm either here as your friend or your enemy. Just so long as you turn over…"

"I don't HAVE any money, Damien."

"Well, that's a pity. It was the only thing determining whether I helped you in your task or turned you over to the police."

"I didn't murder my former gang members. I thought you did."

"Funny."

"Seriously. Now get out before I murder YOU."

Damien gave a nervous laugh. "Be careful, Rex. You're not the only one armed around here."

"Leave me."

Suddenly a gunshot rang out. Devon heard a wail, and Damien was shouting. He looked around.

A figure in black hopped down from the tree two down from Devon's and hopped into a black car. Damien was close behind on his motorbike.

Devon heard the door to Rex's room open.

"Call for help." A man's voice said. "Someone's been shot."

Devon climbed down from the tree and looked at his watch.

Three AM.

"I can't believe it." Pinky said. "So DAMIEN was the killer?"

"No way, sunshine." Devon said.

"Devon, normal talk." Pinky said.

"No." Devon said. "Damien seemed to think Rex was the killer, and Rex thought it was Damien. Then Rex got shot-"

"By Damien."

"No, by someone hiding in the trees."

"Did you see them shoot him?"

"No. I just heard the shot."

"So it could have been Damien."

"Damien said-"

"Look, Devon." Pinky said, beginning to get annoyed. "Just because someone says they didn't do something doesn't mean they didn't do it. Damien could have pretended to think Rex was the killer to blackmail him into money, AND get people off his tail. And when Rex didn't accept, Damien killed him."

"The shot sounded like it came from outside."

"Maybe he has a partner."

"I think it was someone else entirely."

"Devon-"

"Pinky, do you have a twin brother?"

Pinky removed Devon's sunglasses.

"Oh. Thanks."

"You said Damien followed the car."

"Yeah, they both left."

"So either it was a partner, or as you said, another person entirely. Seems suspicious that Prince is the only one who hasn't been shot so far, when she's in the easiest location to attack. We need to keep a close eye on her."

"She didn't do it."

"How do you know? Where's your evidence?"

"I don't need evidence, I just KNOW."

"Devon. Listen to me." Pinky felt exhausted. He wasn't sure whether he'd get any farther along on the case with Devon's help, but he didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings. "Detectives need to back up their theories with evidence."

"Well, maybe I'm a different kind of detective." Devon said. "Anyway, you have no evidence that Prince is the killer."

"I didn't say that she was. I said she MIGHT be. And it makes sense since she hasn't been shot. That's the evidence."

"If you're so good at this, maybe we should work separately." Devon snapped. He stood up and adjusted his ridiculous wig. "Then we'll see who's the better detective."

"Fine." Pinky said. "Go ahead."

Devon stormed out of the room. Pinky sighed. He hoped the case would be solved soon so that Devon would go back to normal.

"Hi, Phineas!" Perry said, hopping up to the door. "Guess what? My legs are better! I just have this pain in my hip and once that's gone and my stitches are out and my arm is confirmed as completely healed, and my hip- did I say my hip? I did, whoops. And my hip, and then I'll be able to do anything."

"Hi, Perry." Phineas walked into the hallway, carrying a small monkey robot.

"I figured out how to stop the painkillers from knocking me out. After I take one, I just drink seven cups of coffee and I get this unbeatable energy boost! I was so productive today, Phineas. I stapled all of the magazines to the back of the sofa in the shape of a corncob and glued a whistle to Candace's hairdryer."

"Are you gonna go back to your regular cranky, sarcastic self when you're all better?" Phineas asked.

A loud whistle sounded.

"PHINEAS AND FERB!" Candace screamed.

"But grandma, can't you hear the whistle blowing?" Perry said. "Hey, Phineas, let's make cotton candy."

"I don't want to see you hyped up on coffee AND cotton candy." Phineas said.

"Coffon candy. It's what vampires eat, Phineas. And Ferb's cow." Perry clutched onto Phineas's leg. "Come on, Phineas. Pleeeaaaassseee? My hip's better, did I tell ya that?"

"Stop it, Agent P." Monogram scolded. "You're going to get dizzy."

Perry continued to breathe quickly and lightly. The scent of unnatural substances, fear, doom and destruction filled his nostrils.

His instincts were warning him to get away. Far away. This was bad.

He knew it wasn't, of course, but his instincts always won when battling with his logic, and his fight-or-flight needs were desperately trying to be met.

"Agent P, stop it. You're going to hyperventilate."

"I AM hyperventilating." Perry retorted.

"Room 3." The receptionist told Monogram.

Monogram picked Perry up and carried him past the other people in the waiting room.

Two dogs that belonged to different owners were having a highly tedious conversation.

"I am a dog."

"So am I."

"Are we both dogs?"

"We cannot both be dogs."

"But I am a dog."

"So am I."

The smaller dog suddenly curled its upper lip. "THERE'S ONLY ROOM FOR ONE DOG IN THIS TOWN."

The dogs began barking at each other. The owners panicked to separate them.

Monogram carried Perry into a door marked 3 and set Perry down on the examination table.

Perry sat on the table and opened up the jar of Q-tips. He placed one in his mouth.

"Agent P." Monogram shook his head. "Not the Q-tips again. Please."

"Hello." Said a man in his late twenties, coming into the room. "I'm Doctor Andrew. Is this Perry?"

Perry crunched another Q-tip.

"Yes." Monogram said.

"I must have examined him before. I think I remember this platypus." Doctor Andrew said.

Perry hacked up a ball of chewed-up Q-tips.

"I definitely remember this platypus." Doctor Andrew said. "Let's see how you've healed."

Doctor Andrew felt Perry's limbs and head.

"Lie down." He said.

Perry stood up.

"I'm sorry. He's in a sassy mood today." Monogram said.

Doctor Andrew gently pushed Perry down and began poking his belly.

Perry growled.

After examining him, Doctor Andrew shrugged. "He seems perfectly fine. As soon as those few scratches heal up, he'll be back to normal."

"Excellent." Monogram said. "Thank you."

Doctor Andrew removed his plastic gloves and went to the sink to wash his hands.

Perry had to aim carefully. This had to be a perfect shot.

He projectile-vomited the last Q-tip across the room. It landed on Doctor Andrew's head.

"Agent P!" Monogram chided.

"Dang." Perry said. "I was aiming for his bottom."