Before you ask, no. I, in fact, did not disappear off the face of the Earth during these past lingering weeks. I was just occupied with school and... whatnot. Well, here's the first chapter in More Than A Platypus that is identified by double digits.

Remember that Ferbnessa one-shot I said I would soon write? The idea's named Reviving Ferbnessa and it'll actually become a three-chapter story.

Oh yes, now to respond to a certain guest review: Romance doesn't exist in my life at this moment in time, but I find the subject of love easy and enjoyable to write about, so I do. Best wishes to you and I hope your special someone will cease being as oblivious as Phineas and finally notice just how amazing you are.

Disclaimer: Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh own Phineas and Ferb.

Francis Monogram

Trust—the foundation of any decent relationship, in friendships, in partnerships, and broadly just in life. If one observes carefully, the best relationships out there involves the best trust. There may be respect and reverence, but it means nothing (absolutely nothing!) without trust, or at the very least, they'll merely be strange acquaintances. Francis Monogram had faith in Agent P. He was absolutely flabbergasted at the sight of the platypus doing any deed that was classified less than a heroic one. And Perry the Platypus had trusted Major Monogram to be the best kind of major there is... and there were many kinds of majors, so don't be surprised if one happens to find eleven definitions for the word 'major' in the dictionary.

That time Perry appeared to be a criminal, maliciously littering and stealing, was just too much for Francis to take in. Really, the grown man was in tears. It was no sense why the best agent of his organization would even consider doing those misdemeanors and felonies. Surely, his eyes must be tricking him, or maybe the Major was putting in too many hours without break, or coffee and lack of sleep was finally leaving their effects. It lead to the hardest thing Francis Monogram had ever done: commanding for Agent P to be discharged from service. Something was definitely fishy, and a part of him boldly rebelled his decision, but who would listen to an old man when their eyes had decent videos to tell them otherwise? If Major Monogram had allowed Perry to stay with that reputation, well, he wouldn't even be the Major anymore! But who was actually right? Agent P had wowed them again, by defeating his nemesis' evil scheme and proving himself to still be that suave, semi-aquatic personification of unstoppable dynamic fury they all admired.

Some questions curiosity would ask: Has the O.W.C.A. ever collapsed? Yes. Was it saved by a fedora-wearing platypus? Yes, yes it was. Does Major Monogram appreciate Perry? Carl had bet his new shoes he did. Colonel Contraction's biggest blunder was chasing him off like a parent scolding their ever-naughty kid. And Maj—Mister Monogram departed with the air of a dignified and mature troublemaker. It was Perry that had kept the spirit and binding of the Agency. And when a now rugged-looking former Major saw what trouble the world was facing and what the O.W.C.A. was defeating, his jaw literally dropped in disbelief.

Every time he glanced at the platypus, Francis Monogram didn't see just an animal, nor an employee, but a friend who wishes for him to be at his best always and an agent he would trust with his life. There was rare admiration in his hard eyes. The kind that made Carl the Intern envy the one who earned that expression. Every time he heard "just a platypus" on the security cameras, Francis sneered at their ignorance and pitied their incredulity. It's a terrible thing to go through life without knowing platypus power. Tsk tsk, they're platypuses, of course they do much! In his experience, at least.

Perry the Platypus remembered his very first step in the path of agency fellowship. That animal shelter reserved a special place in his heart. The young platypus had looked up at a tall man clad in an authoritative olive green Nehru jacket with slick black hair. His bushy mustache was the most distinguishable. Why exactly did they want him? He was called a beaver-duck countless times by anyone who didn't have a degree in the field of zoology, so why was he singled out with a smile and not a baffled one? Did his ears deceive him... or was he really just told… he was going to be a secret agent? Perry's eyes glittered with wonder and eagerness. To be trained under such a practitioner of sagacity, the tall man whose grin gleamed, the thought stirred up such a luckiness in his marrow! He bent down and introduced himself as Major Monogram. He listened to the human words, and somehow he understood exactly what the sounds meant. Young Perry was naïve, yet understanding on a level past the most loyal dogs. Seems impossible, but their species had already wrecked impossibility. Phineas Flynn was a fantastic platypus owner. He knew quite a lot about impossibility and how it was nonexistent.

The agent's course was Perry's life besides his boys. He never regretted anything. And it was learned… Major Monogram wasn't the wisest boss, but Perry the Platypus loved him anyways. He would come to the lair the Major had ordered to build just for him every single day. And nights occasionally, he just couldn't let him down. So mission by mission, victory by victory, day by day, the years tumbled by. And both of them knew: this was a relationship with no regret. Each knew exactly what would let the other down, and what would make them proud. The history they had together was made from a balanced mixture of awkwardness and glory. Sometimes, Major Monogram would be wrapped up in family and business matters, so Perry couldn't blame him for the lack of sympathy during this period, he wouldn't. Because he understood very well the toil of a assertive life and the innate need to please the special young boys in one's life.

Major Monogram knew Perry had it in him from the first time he had taken a good eyeful of the platypus at a very young age. This one was special. Sometimes he felt as if he was robbing Australia of the best platypus it had ever produced, but then again… Monogram had taught it to save the world plenty of times. "Just a platypus" was the worst possible way to describe Perry to Francis. Those people didn't know how he effortlessly made women swoon with his duck bill, beaver tail, and noble fedora. His own exact words would be: "He's Agent P and he's more than a platypus."

Are you looking forward to the platy-fact? Here it is: Platypuses are capable to eat their weight in food within twenty-four hours. And my very lovely readers won't forget to review, of course!

~Fyrvi