"Now where did we...? Ah! There!"

Orla descended the metal stairs to the hold. Using the remote control on her keychain, she unlocked the van. The door slid open and the lights flashed on.

"Hello, Orla!" Van Computer greeted her cheerfully. "What are you doing here? Are you going to bed this early?"

"Quite the contrary," Orla replied, climbing into the driver's seat. "We are approaching our destination. Soon, the Cursed Whistles of Huehuecoyotl shall be delivered to their keepers! Then we shall head for home!"

"Oh," Van Computer seemed a bit sad. "Already?"

"Yes," Orla nodded. "I am sorry you had to spend the entire voyage in the hold."

"It's all right," Van Computer assured her. "I made a lot of new friends!"

Orla started the engine and headed toward the exit. The van flashed its headlights and called out to the other cars as it drove past them.

"Bye, Lightning! Bye, KITT! Bye, Herbie! Have fun in Monte Carlo! Hope your carburetor feels better soon, Mrs. Crabtree! Bye, Speedy!"

There was a chorus of goodbye honks as they ascended the ramp up to the deck.

#

Meanwhile, Oona was running a handheld scanner over John Martin as he and his wife stood on deck.

"Well, everything still looks normal..." Oona switched off the scanner, folded it up, and stuck it in her pocket. "I just hope your condition stays stable. The cure seems effective, even if the ingestion method was unorthodox. I guess everything turned out all right... I hope..."

"Everything's fine, Oona," John Martin assured her. "I ran some tests of my own this morning and everything's a-okay! I'm quite certain we've seen the last of Little John!"

Oona smiled a little sadly. "Yeah..."

"It is kind of unfortunate we couldn't unlock the scientific basis of the transformations," John pontificated. "If we could learn how to the control the aging process..."

"Oh, Odd Squad figured that out a loooooong time ago," Oona told him. "It's one of those things western civilization isn't ready for yet, like anti-gravity technology and how to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie. Y'see, y'gotta add just a pinch of cinnamon..."

"Well, I'm just glad to have my full-grown, big, handsome husband back full-time!" Marjorie Martin interrupted, hugging John. "Thank you, Oona! I feel like you've given us our lives back!"

"Yeah," Oona nodded, flashing a lopsided smile. "If anything goes wrong or the changes start up again, just call us here at Odd Squad and we'll... feel bad about it, I guess. I'm not sure what else we can do... But we'll come up with something..."

"Everything's fine, Oona! You really helped us!"

Then John turned to Marjorie.

"Come on, dear! Let's go see the sites!"

They started to leave, then realized Oona was just standing there by herself.

"Wanna come along, honey?"

Oona shook her head. "Nah!" She gestured, forcing a smile. "You guys go enjoy your second honeymoon! I'm just glad I could help!"

"Okay..." They headed off, waving goodbye. "Thanks for everything! Bye!"

"Yeah..." Oona waved back. "Bye..."

She sat down in a deck chair and looked out over the waves.

"Yeah..." She mumbled to herself. "Thanks for everything..."

Then she heard a strangely familiar voice. "Excuse me. Are you the gadget polish girl?"

Oona looked over and saw what looked like Little John Martin dressed in an Odd Squad scientist outfit with a green bow tie and lab coat. Her eyes bulged.

"What in the..."

But the full-sized John Martin was still visible some distance away walking with his wife. Oona stared at the boy in front of her. She noticed he wore glasses and his hair was slightly more blonde than John's was.

"Who...?"

"Oh, you don't know me," the boy smiled. "I'm Agent Oliver! I'm a new agent with Odd Squad. I've been staying with relatives in the United States while I finished up my training, but now I'm going to join my parents in South America!"

Oona blinked, then found herself smiling back.

"I'm signed up to join the Odd Squad in Puerto Vallarta. I'm sorry for bothering you but I saw you and I'm a big fan of your polish and I just wanted to say hi..."

"Hi!" Oona grinned. "I mean, always glad to meet a fan! So, you just joined Odd Squad?"

"Yeah! I hope it works out! Sometimes I feel like I'm just a jinx!"

"Oh, you'll get over that! Lemme tell you about my first few days with the Squad..."

The two new friends sat together for some time, chatting and getting acquainted.

#

"Okay guys!" Agent Owen shouted through his bullhorn. "Let's move her out!"

The Odd Squad security agents rolled the clear ball containing the Shape-Shifter across the deck toward the gang plank. Inside, Shape-Shifter was forced to run like a hamster in an exercise wheel to keep from falling.

"I'LL BE BACK, ODD SQUAD! YOU CAN COUNT ON THAT!"

Doctor Hartley stood nearby watching with Todd.

"Where are they taking her? Prison?"

"Worse," Todd replied. "She's getting a time-out."

Shape-Shifter heard them. "A time-out? NO! Not a time-out! I can't STAND time-outs! The loneliness, the desolation, the emptiness, the shame!"

"Should've thought of that before you tried to steal the whistles," Owen scolded. "Okay guys, get her up on the gang plank! Come on, keep hold of her! Guys, keep hold of her, KEEP HOLD OF HER... Uh-oh..."

The ball slipped away from the agents and rolled down the gang plank and across the dock, people scattering in all directions. Inside the bubble, Shape-Shifter spun and tumbled.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGH!"

"That ball's unbreakable," Owen assured onlookers. "I'm pretty sure that ball's unbreakable..."

The ball hit a loose board, bounced, and careened off across the boardwalk.

"I'm... almost... positive it's..."

There was the sound of glass breaking in the distance. Owen took off running.

"Oboy..."

Doctor Hartley and Todd continued to watch.

"She was one of my best friends in my villain days," Todd sighed. "I've tried so hard to get her to turn good. She'd be so much happier..." He shook his head sadly. "But it just doesn't work. I wish I knew why..."

Doctor Hartley looked at him. "Have you ever thought maybe it might be because you're a tween boy with no psychological or psychiatric training whatsoever trying to rehabilitate criminals despite being completely unqualified and barely having any idea what you're doing?"

Todd pondered. "No. No, that's not it..."

#

Elsewhere, Hyacinth Bucket was convinced she'd made a major social coup. She held the arm of poor King Friday the Thirteenth in a death grip as she carried on a nonstop monologue.

"Oh, I do wish we could have run into one another earlier, your majesty! But you see, I spent most of my voyage confined with an unfortunate injury. Still, when you're in the neighborhood, you must attend one of my candlelight suppers..."

King Friday the Thirteenth stared straight ahead through heavy-lidded eyes. "Must I?"

"Oh yes! Why, my husband Richard will..." She looked around. Richard had disappeared. After a moment or so, she spotted him at the railing looking out at the sea.

"Richard!" She stormed over. "Richard, I do not need you wandering off whilst I am in the midst of charming an important world leader and beloved American television personality! What are you doing anyway?"

"Hhm?" He blinked drowsily. "Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just daydreaming." He sighed, half-smiling. "About things that might have been..."

"Well, come along! I'm trying to convince the good King to one of my candlelight suppers! I'm sure he must be related to our own Royal Family. They're all related distantly, you know. And I..."

King Friday was attempting to make a break for it. Hyacinth spotted him and gave chase.

"Oh, King Friday? King Friday! King Friday, we haven't worked out the details! King Friday? King Friday!"

They ran past Oswald, who was being pestered by an especially persistent talking dog.

"Look, you ain't got no dog and I ain't got no master! It's like all this time we was saved for each other! It's like Kismet! How can you fight Kismet?"

Oswald growled through his teeth, "For the last time, WE DO NOT NEED A DOG!"

"Aw, c'mon, be a sport! Every good kid-detective team needs a dog! Where'd Velma and Shaggy be without Scooby, eh?"

"NO. GO AWAY."

"But I'm loyal! I'm trustworthy! I'm brave! I can help you track down oddness! I gotta nose for it! Lookit this!" He produced a tiny figure and handed it to Oswald. "I found this little guy floating by the boat! He'd almost drowned but I managed to get all the water wrung outta him..."

Oswald looked down in horror at the little withered Spongebob Squarepants, bone-dry and on the verge of crumbling to dust. Spongebob reached up with a gnarled, bony hand and gasped weakly.

"Help me..."

"Omigosh..."

Quickly, Oswald ran to the railing and tossed the little sponge overboard. Spongebob disappeared into the sea, then bobbed back up a moment later, completely re-hydrated and fully recovered. "Thanks, friend!" He saluted Oswald, then disappeared back under the waves.

"Now that's gotta be odd!" The dog was insisting. "He was wearing a tie with shorts! I mean, who does that?"

Oswald was about to start screaming at the pesky dog. Then they saw Orla coming.

"Waitasec." The dog recoiled. "Is that the girl who eats cats?"

Oswald side-eyed the dog, half-grinning. "That's not canon. But yeah, in this guy's stories..."

Orla strode over. "Ah! Oswald! Is this animal annoying you?"

"Kinda, yeah," Oswald nodded. His grin widened. "He says he wants us to adopt him."

"Hmm," Orla looked him over. "I might be able to find some use for him in the kitchen."

"The... KITCHEN? You... You can't mean... You don't mean..." He backed away. "I just suddenly realized I got a pressing appointment!" The dog ran off.

Orla looked at Oswald and shrugged. "I simply intended to train the beast to turn the spit over the fire when I cook my roast pheasant." She watched as the dog leapt into a lifeboat, wrenched it free from its chains, and rowed away. "He must be an exceedingly work-shy canine..." She shrugged. "Still, no matter. I have brought the van topside. We shall commence loading our luggage and equipment within it forthwith!"

"Hey, wait a minute!"

A small, furry biped creature resembling a talking aardvark hurried over.

"So, you're a fellow cat connoisseur? You like the white or the dark meat? HAH!"

There were voices in the distance. The aardvark-creature started.

"Uh-oh, they're onto me! Um, you never saw me, alright?"

He fled. A moment later, two people ran over. The man flashed a badge.

"FBI! Did you guys see a... Hey, are you Odd Squad?"

"Never mind that, Mulder! There it goes, down that stairwell!"

They ran off as well.

Orla and Oswald watched them disappear down the stairs. Then they took a deep breath.

"So. We must locate our compatriots and ready ourselves for departure..."

#

And Doctor Hartley had moved on to another one of his patients.

"Now Opal," he told the young agent-on-leave, "You must learn to let your sister live her own life and make her own decisions. You have to trust and let go."

"I know, Doctor," Opal admitted. "And I really am trying. But how can I trust someone who tried to kill me?"

"She... tried to KILL you?" Doctor Hartley looked up from his notes. "Why did she try to kill you?"

"Because she said I didn't trust her."

Doctor Hartley considered this. "Your family is... very complicated..."

#

Todd, meanwhile, was talking with Ohlm, who was sealed in a glass booth for safekeeping.

"This is only a temporary setback!" Ohlm raged. "Someday, someday very soon I shall have my revenge!"

"Yeah," Todd nodded wearily. "I used to think like that. Y'gotta learn how to let go of the past, man. I used to spend all my time plotting vengeance on Odd Squad. Nowadays, I grow the most beautiful vegetables and I'm happier than I've ever been." He reached into his pocket and produced a turnip. "Look at that. Have you ever seen a turnip so delicious, so succulent? I did that. With my own hands I did that. Grew it from a seed in my garden. And it's more satisfying than any evil scheme could ever be."

Ohlm rolled his eyes. Todd put the turnip away.

"Well, we all have our own things..."

Ohlm snorted.

"So, you still having the dreams? The ones where you're a singing frog on the Moon?"

"Not ON the Moon, WITH the Moon," Ohlm grimaced. "I keep dreaming I'm a singing frog who's friends with the Moon and sometimes we sing together. And there's this moth with some sort of accent and she plays the guitar ..."

Todd nodded. "Yeah. No judgement here, man. Just the other night, I dreamed I was an octopus who sold ice cream..."

Unseen by them, a hooded, masked figure crept stealthily around behind them. He picked up a stray newspaper someone had abandoned, put it in his satchel, then snuck away.

Todd looked at the box. "So... How do you go to the bathroom in that thing?"

Ohlm refused to answer.

#

Osmerelda, meanwhile, was taking care of some unfinished business.

"...So you see, Mrs. Kravitz, it was all due to the magic whistles! That's why those things kept happening to you!"

"Really?" Mrs. Kravitz stood there, unsure whether to laugh or cry. "You mean... all those crazy things were real?"

"More or less. But we're delivering the whistles to their rightful owners," Osmerelda told her. "So nothing else should happen to you for the rest of your vacation."

Mrs. Kravitz twitched, quietly absorbing what she'd just been told. "Really? No more monsters? No apparitions? No more craziness?" She emitted a cracked little laugh. "All gone?"

"Everything should be fine now," Osmerelda assured the nervous, middle-aged woman. "You're safe. Nothing else will bother you."

"Then I wasn't imagining things! I wasn't imagining things!" She clapped her hands. A determined gleam came to her eyes. "Oh, wait until Abner hears about this!"

She turned and strode off. "ABNER! ABNER!"

As soon as she left, Oswald ran over to Osmerelda. "Come on, We're getting ready to leave."

The two ran off to the van.

A moment later, Gladys Kravitz returned, her husband Abner in tow.

"...And she told me it was real, I wasn't imagining things, and once you see her and talk to her, you'll..." Gladys stopped short. "Where is she?"

Abner glared at her. "Where's who?"

"That girl, the little girl in the suit!" Gladys looked around.

Abner sighed. "The little girl in the suit."

"I'm telling you, she WAS here! She explained to me all those crazy things were created by these magic Aztec whistles. I didn't make them up! They were real!"

Abner nodded. "Magic Aztec whistles. Sure."

"I'm telling you, she was right here!"

"Sure, honey. Sure." He put his arm around his wife and gently led her away. "C'mon. Let's get you out of this hot sun. Maybe you can go lie down for awhile..."

"But she was here!" Gladys was on the verge of tears. "Really!"

"Yeah. Whatever," Abner sighed. "Let's just enjoy the rest of our vacation, okay?"

"Yeah... Nothing else will happen... Will it?"

Abner shook his head. "Nah. Nothing else is gonna happen."

They stopped at the ship store for some aspirin, then headed back to their cabin.

#

Omar emerged from a stairwell carrying the Cursed Death Whistles on their silk pillow. He called his partners on his badge phone. "Okay, I got 'em!"

"And I'll be glad to get rid of them!" Captain Stubing stood nearby with the rest of the crew. "This trip has been altogether too surreal for my tastes!"

"What?" Gopher half-smiled. "You mean with the cartoon animals and the sea monsters and the characters from other shows appearing and disappearing at random?"

"Yeah, that," Captain Stubing rubbed his scalp. "Then there's the godawful writing and the incessant breaking of the fourth wall..."

Julie the Cruise Director sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have to agree! We're supposed to be the ones crossing over and we barely even did anything here!"

Isaac the Bartender nodded. "I mean, they're nice kids and all. And they really did help out a lot. But I'm a lot more comfortable when the oddest thing on the ship is Charo."

"Don't worry, guys!" Omar assured them. "My partners just told me the messenger from the Mexican Department of Antiquities arrived and they'll be here in a moment to pick up the whistles!" He looked around. "Here they come now!"

Julie started. "Is that... sprightly piano music?"

"Speedy delivery, speedy delivery!" A white-haired, smiling man in a gray uniform rose a bicycle over to the group. "Here to pick up the Magic Death Whistles of Huehuecoyotl!" He rang his little bell.

The other three Odd Squad agents ran over to join them.

"That's who they sent, guys!" Oswald explained. "He has the documentation and everything!"

The man on the bike showed Omar and Captain Stubing his papers. Omar smiled.

"Works for me!" He handed over the whistles. "Here y'go!"

"Excellent, excellent!" The man pulled out a notepad. "Let me just write you out a receipt..."

"STOP! STOP!" A lanky, dark-haired man in a suit and tie dashed across the deck toward them. "That man is not who he seems to be!"

The messenger was flustered. "But... But I was indeed sent for the whistles! I've got the papers and everything!"

"That's true," the agents all nodded. "He does!"

"Not him," the man replied. "Him!"

He pointed at Doc Bricker, who backed away a few steps. Then he pulled himself up to his full height, a defiant look on his face.

"Zo! You haff caught up vit me at last, Maxwell Smart!"

With one gesture, he removed his glasses and wig, revealing a mop of dirty gray hair. With another, he wiped makeup off his face, revealing a mustache and a dueling scar.

The Love Boat crew was in shock. "Doc...?"

The man marched over to him, speaking in an odd, clipped, declarative tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Siegfried, one of the head agents of the criminal spy organization Kaos!" The two glared at one another. "Liar, cheat, swindler, fraud, and altogether terrible, awful, rotten guy!"

"But I am fun at parties!" Siegfried rejoined. "And zat ist zomething you vill never be!"

Maxwell Smart winced. "I am so fun at parties..." He pulled himself together. "So! Playing the long game, eh?"

"Ja!" Siegfried glanced around at the stunned and bewildered people around him. "I haff posed as the doctor aboard zis silly ship for years, vaiting for my chance! And now, my chance has come!"

He pulled a gun out of his shirt and leveled it at Smart.

"I vill take zose trinkets of yours..." He snatched the whistles away from Omar. "I am sure KAOS vill be able to put zeir uncanny magic to very good use!"

"So! It seems like you have the upper hand, Siegfried!" Maxwell Smart struggled to look confident. "But what would you say if I told you there was an entire team of CONTROL agents right behind you?"

Siegfried sneered. "I vould zay I find zat very hard to believe, Mister Smart!"

Max swallowed. "Well, would you believe one or two agents? A theatrical agent? A Boy Scout with a yellow belt in karate? A..."

Just then, Orla struck Siegfried's gun hand with a sharp blow, hitting him hard at the exact spot to make him drop his gun.

"Oh!"

Before he could recover, Osmerelda delivered a devastating blow to his solar plexus. He toppled over in agony.

"Urk!"

Quickly, Omar grabbed the whistles back.

"Nice work, Odd Squad!" Maxwell Smart congratulated them.

"I... I can't believe this! Doc was a villain all this time!" Julie gasped.

"I can't believe it either," Oswald stared down at him, then up at nothing in particular. "In fact, the real Doc Bricker better be locked up in a closet somewhere If a certain someone knows what's good for him!"

There was a thud from a nearby broom closet.

"Ah! Looks like he heard me!"

Oswald hurried over and opened the door to find the real Doc tied up and gagged but otherwise perfectly fine because I'm not a monster, people.

Oswald snorted. "Yeah, sure." He set to work untying the doctor.

"An excellent job subduing that crook, Odd Squad!" proclaimed a man in a full face mask, tights, and a spangled cape, but oddly, no shirt as he stepped forward. "It seems I've arrived just in time to take him into custody!"

The crowd gasped. "El Santo! The Man In The Silver Mask!"

"Yes," the masked man said solemnly, his voice not matching his lips. "I was sent by the Mexican government to accompany Mister Mcfeely and protect the Cursed Whistles. But I was temporarily detained by an alien invasion. I disposed of them and got here as quickly as I could but it seems I was almost too late! Thank goodness Odd Squad was here to take up the slack!"

"Any time, Silver Mask Man," Omar said, smiling and handing over the whistles. "Any time!"

"Well, we have to be on our way now!" Mister Mcfeely took the whistles and tucked them away in his satchel as he turned his bike around. "Speedy delivery to you all!"

"And godspeed!" Santo grabbed Siegfried, threw him over his shoulder, and headed for his sports car parked on the dock.

#

A short time later, the agents were in their van flying away from the Pacific Princess.

Osmerelda smiled. "I'm gonna miss that crazy ship..."

"I'm gonna miss the buffet!" Oswald smacked his lips.

"Truly, it was a bizarre adventure," Orla said. "But we have brought it to a successful conclusion!"

"And I got a souvenir!" Omar produced a snoglobe with a mini Pacific Princess within. "Several, actually. But this one's my favorite!"

"AGENTS! YOU HAVE AN INCOMING CALL FROM THE LITTLE O!"

Omar placed the globe on his souvenir shelf. The monitor lowered and the four took their places around the table.

"There you four are! Just calling to tell you the Cursed Whistles have been delivered to the National Museum in Mexico!"

"Mission accomplished!" Omar grinned.

"Oh, and the abnormalities should be fading away shortly."

Oswald's eyes widened. "Uh... Shortly?"

The van lurched. The agents rushed to the cockpit, where they found a blond woman in a bell-bottomed crushed velvet pantsuit with a ruffled collar at the steering wheel.

"Kids! What have I told you about running around the bus while I'm trying to drive! Sit down and be quiet! We've got to make it to Albuquerque by Friday!"

The agents exchanged looks, shrugged, and took their seats.

"Chris, you stop teasing Tracey! And don't even start with me, Danny!" The woman brushed back her bangs. "I just hope I have time to get my hair done before we hit the stage..."

Oswald leaned close to Orla. "Should we zap her?"

"Let us see if she fades away on her own," Orla responded. "Besides, we were headed to Albuquerque anyway..."

The van soared through the clouds, a triangular CAREFUL: NERVOUS MOTHER DRIVING sign on the back window.

#

THE END