"Perry! We built a tram-poline! It's a cross between a trampoline and a tram." Phineas said excitedly.
"Lovely." Perry muttered, partially listening to Phineas and partially dreaming about destroying the Carlos the Caring Clown toy once and for all.
"It moves and bounces." Ferb said. "Like Candace's cooking."
"Come on, Perry, you have to come see." Phineas shook Perry.
"Every time you shake me, the closer you come to a slow, painful death."
"Aw, you love us, Perry. You're kidding."
"No love when I am sleepy. Only death."
"Then wake up, Perry."
"You know why they invented waking up? Because they didn't have any good torture devices at the time."
"Perry, you're gonna waste the whole day."
"That's nice, Phineas. I'm just gonna go back to sleep now."
"Perry!"
"Your voice is a calm ocean wave lulling me to sleep, Phineas. Resistance is futile."
"PERRY!"
"Okay, fine, maybe it's a giant destructive wave. But… AGH." Perry sat up and rubbed his eyes. "You got me all riled up. And I was having such a nice dream."
"Now you can experience the tram-poline." Ferb said.
Perry knocked on Doofenshmirtz's door.
"JUST A MOMENT!" Doofenshmirtz shouted.
Perry heard a series of strange noises: A rubber duck quacking, something large falling to the floor, a siren of some sort, and a potato exploding.
Then Doofenshmirtz opened the door, wearing a flamingo hat.
Perry stared at the hat.
"What?" Doofenshmirtz asked. "This? This doesn't concern you." He tossed the plastic hat aside and moved away from the doorframe to let Perry in. "I don't actually have a plot for you to foil today, I've been very busy."
Perry wasn't disappointed. He was still exhausted from waking up at such an early hour to look at the tram-poline, and he hadn't been looking forward to a fight.
"Have a seat." Doofenshmirtz gestured to his couch, and Perry sat down. "I was just about to make myself some cinnamon toast and hot cocoa. You want some?"
Perry nodded.
"Okay." Doofenshmirtz got out a couple of chipped plates and placed two bread slices on them. "I can never remember if you're supposed to toast the bread before or after you put the cinnamon on. I'm gonna do before, because I don't want my toaster to get all cinnamon-y. Is before okay, Perry the platypus?"
Perry nodded and leaned back on the couch.
"You look tired. I never thought about you getting tired before." Doofenshmirtz stuck the bread slices into the toaster. "I mean, I've seen you tired a couple of times. But I've always thought of you as that little squirrel in those battery commercials that just keeps going and going and going. Have you ever seen those battery commercials, Perry the platypus? Isn't it funny that they advertise batteries? It seems more like something that people would NEED instead of something they'd be convinced to buy- like, 'I'm gonna go to the store and get some batteries, you know, because I need them'. But I can't picture anyone going 'Woah, those batteries look so cool. I'm gonna buy them right now'. Oh, the toast is done." Doofenshmirtz placed the toast slices back on the plates and began to butter them.
Perry yawned.
Doofenshmirtz poured cinnamon and sugar into an empty saltshaker and began to mix them. "They work you too hard down at that agency, Perry the platypus. They need to give you a break. You can hardly keep your little platypus eyes open." He poured the cinnamon and sugar mixture over the toast. It began to melt into the hot butter, and the smell of cinnamon radiated through the room. Perry's mouth watered.
"Here you go." Doofenshmirtz set a plate down in front of Perry along with a mug of hot chocolate. "There's your sugar fix. That'll get you up and running."
Perry smiled at him gratefully and bit into his toast. It tasted just as good as it smelled.
Doofenshmirtz sat down across from him with his own snack and stared at the floor.
"Do you ever get lonely, Perry the platypus?" He asked quietly.
Perry stared at him.
"Not now, I mean. Obviously you're here. But I get… I get kind of lonely when it's just me. I… I don't really have anyone I talk to, you know. Besides my pet rock. And my flamingo hat."
Perry looked down at his half-eaten toast that Doofenshmirtz had gone through the trouble to make him.
He had always believed Doofenshmirtz was talkative because he was so over-friendly. But now it occurred to him that perhaps it was because he was lonely. It would be horrible to live alone, with no family, with no friends… the silence would be deafening.
Maybe that was why Perry didn't like to make very much noise. He wasn't lonely. He had a family. He had friends. He was surrounded by people every single day. All Doofenshmirtz had was Norm, and occasionally Vanessa, who didn't interact with him much.
"Oh, and I have you, I guess." Doofenshmirtz brightened. "That's right. We talk."
Perry nodded. He bit into his toast again. It tasted so good that he forgot about his sadness and exhaustion.
"I won the cinnamon toast competition once." Doofenshmirtz said proudly. "Of course… it all depends on the quality of your ingredients."
"You going to sleep?" Prince asked.
"Not yet." Perry rubbed his eyes and continued typing his email.
…I am not writing this reference letter to tell you that you should employ Mrs. Kendrine Adems Clownington because she is a good worker. I'm writing to beg you to employ her so she'll get off my back. If she does really bad at this job, maybe she'll go back to singing horrible songs. Thank you, and good day. Perry Bartholomew Flynn-Fletcher.
"Remind me to never ask you for a letter of reference." Prince said, cuddling up to him.
"I'm tired." Perry said. "I get grumpy when I'm tired. I'm gonna regret this letter in the morning. Then again, maybe I won't. I don't care what happens to Kendrine." He closed his computer and set it down on the floor next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"
Prince wrapped her arms around his neck and began kissing his neck and chest.
Perry pushed her away and rolled onto his side. "All right, good night."
"You used to like it when I did that."
"I'm tired."
"Fine." Prince grumbled, pulling up the covers. "Goodnight, crankypants."
"Don't be mad."
Prince didn't respond.
Perry sat up. "I'm sorry, Prince. I'm just too tired to cuddle tonight."
"It's the stupid baby, isn't it? You're worried about me getting too hot or energized or cold or lazy or something. Stop babying me. I survived for five years in the most dangerous gang in Danville, AND I had my own baby to deal with. I think I can handle a little close snuggling. Seriously."
"Seriously, Prince, I'm tired."
"You can sleep while I cuddle you."
"Fair enough." Perry rolled over to face her and hugged her to him. "Goodnight."
Prince buried her head in his chest. "Night."
"I've been reading up on animal biology." Isabella said. "And I was wondering: Does Perry look more like his mom or his dad?"
"We haven't ever really seen his mom or dad." Phineas said, cutting out a picture of a skeleton from a magazine. "But I'm sure he looks like both of them. Platypuses look really similar to each other."
"Platypus mitosis complete." Ferb said.
Buford pasted a picture of a ghost to a large posterboard in the middle of the kitchen table. "I look exactly like my ma. We could be twins."
No one seemed to know how to respond.
"What about you, Isabella?" Ferb asked. "Do you look more like your mum or Mt. Garcia?"
"Mount Garcia?" Isabella asked.
"Oh, right, that was a video game we had." Phineas shook his head. "He means your dad."
"I look like my mom. We have the same face shape."
"Football-shaped, then?" Buford asked.
"Isabella looks nothing like a football, Buford." Baljeet said.
"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Phineas shook his head.
"I look like my dad." Baljeet said. "Before he got mauled by a tiger, I mean."
"I look like both of my parents and my cow." Ferb said, coloring in a witch hat.
"I don't look like either of mine." Phineas said. "Well, kind of like mom because of my hair color and eyes and stuff."
"Who had your nose?" Buford asked.
"Grandpa." Phineas said, annoyed. "He used to play that game with me all the time. 'Got your nose'!"
"No, I mean…"
"No one in the family had that nose." Ferb said. "It's quite odd, really."
"There's Perry!" Phineas picked up his beloved platypus and set him down on his lap. "Look, Perry. We're making a Halloween poster."
Perry chattered.
"Well, it's good to be prepared for when Halloween actually comes. You'll come trick-or-treating with us, right, boy?"
Perry chattered again.
"Why d'you pretend like you can understand him?" Buford asked.
"It's just fun." Phineas put Perry down on the table. Perry walked over to Baljeet and began to chew on his pencil eraser.
"Perry, it is very hard to write when you do that." Baljeet said.
"I come in, just wanting to lie down and rest, and you two are having an impromptu Halloween party, IN the kitchen, IN SEPTEMBER."
"We're allowed to have September Halloween parties, Perry. It's a free country." Phineas said. "Our country's creators made it so."
"One day, there was nothing." Ferb said. "No Danville. No us. No anyone. Then… way, way up in the sky… two gods were eating lunch together… their names were Povenmire and Marsh…"
"Ferb, your how-the-world-as-we-know-it-came-to-be story is gonna have to wait." Phineas said. "Perry, why are you so mad that we had friends over? We have them over every single day."
"The story cannot wait." Ferb said. "Don't anger the gods, Phineas. They created you first, you know."
Phineas sighed.
"I just spent the ENTIRE DAY delivering newspapers." Perry said. "EVERY. SINGLE. BLOCK. IN DANVILLE. Because STUPID Kendrine kept THROWING papers into birdbaths and into garden gnomes. She wouldn't focus. She kept talking on her phone to her husband. So I had to go back, on foot, and collect all the newspapers and put them by the door. And now my feet hurt like fire and all I want to do is soak them in some warm water and sleep for the rest of the day… and I come into the kitchen, and… actually… I don't even know why I got mad at you for that."
"You have been really tired lately." Phineas said.
"It's stupid Kendrine." Perry flopped down on Ferb's bed. "She messed up the newspapers… exploded the ice-cream shop… single-handedly destroyed a whole shelf of perfume bottles, causing me to pass out… and don't even ask how she messed up being a diaper saleswoman. You know what? I think she just likes creating drama."
"If she'd just go back to singing, maybe she'd remember why she was a singer in the first place and stay a singer." Phineas said.
"Or the closest she ever came to a singer." Perry muttered.
"And then our lives would be better because Perry would no longer be cranky." Ferb said.
"I never thought I'd ever say this… but I wish she'd go back to singing." Perry said. "How can we make that happen?"
"We'll have to formulate a plan." Phineas said. "Wait… what happened when she was a diaper saleswoman?"
"I told you not to ask."
