Hi, everybody! Back with another chapter. Also, I am grateful to announce that as of now, this story has sixty-six reviews, exactly two over my favorite number. I can't say enough how thankful I am for everyone who's supported me all this way. What's that? Do I see seventy? ...Seventy-five? Well, guess I better respond to some of them.

Review responses:

Dreadwing216: I'm glad you did!

Phineas A: Ditto. I will try to.

Guest: (Hey, look - your hypothesis was right!) Really? I thought the title was rather corny, but I'm happy someone likes it. I agree that perfection is a difficult concept to grasp fully, but if the events concerning the children's perfection in the last chapter were not clear, they should be after reading this one. Also, yeah - one thing that has has bothered me is the fact that hardly anyone acknowledges the canon existence of Mr. Shapiro, and my theory as to why is that it allows authors to make potentially angsty stuff up about him that can ultimately lead to Phinabellaness. Blah.

Agent P watched the events of that day carefully from above. His OWCA equipment allowed him to get a bird's eye view of everything that happened. He chose not to intervene for his own reasons, a trust in Agent Ferb being one of them. Perry had been spying on the boy for a while after Monogram had noticed his suspicious composure, and after learning of Ferb's true intentions, Perry had learned to agree with the plan. He convinced Monogram that Ferb's behavior was not a legitimate cause for concern and it had not been a problem since.

He never intended to keep less than one eye on Perfeneas and Isealia, but a message from the major demanded his attention. "Good evening, Agent P," the man greeted, lighting up the face of Perry's wrist communicationizer. Through the foliage of the maple tree where Perry was riding out the storm, the device was the only source of light his eyes had to adapt to. It might have been the hour at which Monogram was calling that caused his eyes to have a less-than-energetic look about them, as Perry hoped it was; if Monogram looked out of it as a result of the mission he was about to recieve, it had to have been bad. He chattered in greeting, saluting with the hand that was not occupied with the watch.

"I'm guessing you've seen what's happened today, correct?" Perry nodded. "Alright. I'm putting you in charge of returning Perfeneas to his family. Keep him safe, be sure not to let him anywhere near Isealia. These orders come from the top, remember."

Perry tore his eyes from his superior and gazed solemnly at the house. It was much too late for that, and he had no intention of returning the boy to Doofenshmirtz - Phineas deserved better.

Monogram frowned. "They've already met, haven't they?" He deduced from his best agent's stare. "Agent P, answer me. Did you let them meet? How much do they know?"

Angrily, Perry aimed his attention back at the device and turned it off quickly, hanging up. Perfeneas was more important than OWCA this time.

Ferb gently but firmly shook his stepbrother into consciousness. The redhead hardly stirred, but Ferb was patient; he sat back on his heels as Phineas got up and clutched his forehead. His eyes slowly opened, and shock registered on his face. "Whe-Where are we? Where's Isabella?" He asked in alarm, looking rapidly about the room. "Oh, we're - I'm... How did we get back here? Why am I in bed again? Ferb..." He looked down at himself in confused shock, as if trying to find out who exactly he was. His eyes met Ferb's again and he curiously implored, "What's going on?"

Ferb shook his head. "I see Queen Mab hath been with you," he referenced. "It was just a dream."

"No," Phineas declined simply, "Dreams are fictional scenarios designed by your brain to keep your subconsciousness occupied as it sorts out the events of the past day, deciding what to remember and what to disregard. I don't dream because I never forget anything. That... That was terrible. Don't you remember? How those scientists came to take Isabella and I away, and they made us fight? I had to... Leave you for good... So how'd we get back here?"

Ferb crawled closer to his brother, putting his hands on Phineas's shoulders. "Perfeneas, get a hold of yourself," he cooed, "You're right, that was no dream; it was a nightmare. You're okay now, just a little late."

Phineas exhaled. "I told you last night, Ferb," he muttered, just clearly enough for his brother's comprehension. "It's Phineas now. Like you said, Perfeneas is... Late." He inspected the stitching on the blanket covering him, noticing that the two boys were both still in their pajamas. "I'm not... I-I..." He was whispering now. "I'm not p-perf-fect anym-more."

It was still tremendously hard to believe. He got changed in the upstairs bathroom, then followed Ferb downstairs, one question occupying his subconscious mind: What was he going to tell Isealia?

"So, why are we here again?" Candace inquired, "Won't they kind of be looking for us, out here in the open?"

"Well, that's the thing. They'll be looking for us at Ferb's house; they not expect you to be here in the park," Gretchen explained, "The point is, Ferb's house is the worst possible place for us to be right now. Just try to blend in for a while, maybe make some new friends."

Candace groaned, then stalked over to a park bench and muttered, "I still think this is a bad idea." She did not get a good look at the guitar played sitting next to her, nor did she care to. He grimaced as the string he was tuning popped out.

"Darn, why does that keep happening?" He thought aloud. Candace turned, finally acknowledging the teen next to her. He was actually rather good-looking.

"Hey, need some help with that?" She offered, not knowing how she could be of service. "I play the bass. That happens to me all the time."

He looked to his side to face her. "No, that won't be necessary; I got it." He took out a guitar case and placed the acoustic in it. Zipping it shut, he continued. "Isn't that the worst though? Right when you think you have the right note, it just goes and snaps on you." He hefted the case off his lap and extended a hand. His mouth opened for an introduction, but it never got the chance to leave his lips.

His interruption was the arrival of a young blonde girl who could not have been any older than five. "Come over here and play wit' us!" She invited, grabbing one of his hands with both of hers. "Come on, we need a bad guy if we'a gonna play pwetend. Patty's waiting for us, leh's go!"

"Wait, easy, tiger," the guitarist dismissed, standing up slowly and looking back at Candace. "Sorry, my little sister's pretty enthusiastic sometimes."

"Oh, that's alright, I hear you," Candace returned with a relatable wave of her hand. "My little brother drives me crazy. Candace, by the way."

"Jeremy, who is this?" The little girl wondered, finally stopping to get a good look at the redhead. "Hey, you could be the bad guy!" Candace could not decide which was more pointy: the girl's stare or her finger, which was currently being shoved into her face. "A witch will be much better than an evil wizard."

"No, Suzy, I'll come play with you," Jeremy chided, standing up.

"Wait, no, I'll come too," spoke the other teen; she had taken a liking to this Jeremy. Suzy inspected her with a slightly suspicious look, then accepted the offer.

"Alright, we got a witch an' an evil wizard!" She shrieked in excitement to some of her friends, who came running off the playground. "Get them!"

"What the-?" Candace started as foam balls launched from toy guns pelted her from all sides.

"Well, that was hard enough," Gretchen mumbled to Ferb. "Getting everyone to cooperate, I mean. Could no have did it without you."

Ferb nodded his agreement, saying the same about her without actually saying it.

"Now, I don't know if noticed Phineas is acting different, but Isabella is. Something bad happened last night, and she not is perfect anymore! I really don't get it, or know what happened."

Ferb paused. "Is Phineas the same way?" He nodded again.

"As I suspected. Ferb, what are we going doing?" She craned her neck to look across the park. "Look at them. They do not know what to do with themselves now. I'm so sorry for them. Where - I mean, when is your associate go to be here?"

The boy checked his wrist communicationizer, scrolling through written messages he had received late the night before. A fellow OWCA agent had contacted him, claiming to know about their problem and that he wanted to offer his aid. At first, Ferb was suspicious, but some research confirmed that the agent was OWCA one of OWCA's most trusted. Whoever it was told Ferb to meet him at Danville Park, and since the boy had nowhere better to be, he took Graciela and the others there at the requested time and hoped it was not a trap.

Shortly after, a tall, brown-haired teen wearing a fedora approached. "Agent Ferb," he greeted.

The younger boy recognized the man's composure and his hat. His blink asked silently, "Are you the person we're expecting?"

At the mysterious teenager's signal, numerous animals emerged from the surrounding forest, all wearing hats; this was enough of an answer. "Monty Monogram," he introduced, holding up a badge. The animals advanced. "I'm sorry, but I'm here to arrest you. Your insubordination of the O.W.C.A. leaders and dishonesty to the organization did not go unnoticed nor forgiven." Monty, clearly reluctant, withdrew one pair of handcuffs and stepped toward the boy.

Alarmed, Ferb searched the barrier created by his fellow agents for an escapable chink. From behind, a dog on two legs grabbed him and tried to pin him down, and he instinctively turned and swiped the housepet's paws off his back. His peripheral vision allowed him to see a panda attempt this on his left, and using a side kick, he swept him away as well. "You can't do this," Gretchen complained to Monty, defending her friend. Ferb shoved off a frog, "Out here in the park, people can see us. You're blowing your cover and giving your organization a bad name." A beaver received a painful wrist hold and Ferb continued to move around, fending off his fellow agents and coworkers. Gretchen held her hands up to hide in the relative safety found under them.

"On the contrary, miss," Monty explained, "We're just doing our job, protecting the Tri-State Area from evildoers - and rogue agents. If anything, we're promoting OWCA." He continued to step in, trying to get Ferb handcuffed. "I just can't believe Ferb would be one of them."

Sensing her friend was truly in danger, Gretchen stepped in to pry a duck off Ferb's back. "Some associate you got there, huh?" She whispered, taking down a pig. Ferb frowned at her and grabbed a snake by its neck, shoving it off.

Unfortunately, Monty's backup had brought backup. Within seconds, both children had become buried in animals trying to keep them still. Held down by the agents Ferb was more used to spending a lunch break with than trying to escape, he scowled at the son of his superior. Gretchen, for trying to protect him, had no better luck. She squirmed a bit, but could not free a limb.

Monty opened up the handcuffs more menacingly than he had thought, and his mouth opened; then, he froze. "Ow, what was that?" He demanded, turning once he was able to to face whoever had attacked him. This motion caused him to walk straight into a flash of teal in the form of a punch to the face. Grasping his irregular nose and dropping the handcuffs in the process, Monty fell to his knees. From behind him emerged an anthropomorphic platypus, fedora donned.

Ferb's eyes doubled in size. He recognized that shade of tangerine anywhere. He was briefly bothered by the fact that he never knew of Perry worked for the same organisation he did, but his focus was soon diverted when the monotreme began freeing his hands. He shook off the agents holding his legs down and sent Perry a look.

Agent P's return glance read, "I'll explain everything later." Trusting his brother's pet, Ferb stood up to help free Gretchen. The three fled into the adjacent woods and left the animals behind.

Once in deep enough, they stopped to catch their breath. Ferb finally met Perry's gaze and blinked reassuringly. He then looked down again, breathing, "We're so fired."