As Princes Phineas and Ferb soared away from Flynn Castle on their robotic-horse-turned-pegasus, meanwhile, another party was just arriving at Danland Castle by an equally unconventional method of transportation. In a shower of sparkles, the three fairies and Isabella suddenly materialized in the center of a grand, violently pink bedroom.

"Wow," said Baljeet, wide-eyed. "I did not know it was even possible to have so many different shades of one color!"

"Look at this!" said Buford. "They must've designed this room specifically for you, Isabella."

"Yeah, sure; it's very nice," said Isabella vaguely, not paying attention. She was still reeling from the shock of having seen her guardians reattach their disused fairy wings after ten years.

"Why did we have to bring Isabella up here, again?" asked Baljeet. "If we are bringing her back to the king, why not just go in the front door?"

"'Cause she's gotta get dressed, dummy," said Buford, "It's not just the king. She's meeting her betrothed tonight, remember?"

"Oh. Right," said Baljeet sheepishly. Isabella swallowed. Buford's last sentence felt like a punch in the gut.

Perry suddenly chattered, tapping on his wrist.

"Perry's right. We'd better hurry up," said Buford. "Alright, Isabella, what'cha wanna wear?"

"Oh…anything." Isabella sighed, shrugging. "It doesn't matter."

"But there is a whole wardrobe full of dresses! I thought girls liked stuff like that," said Baljeet, puzzled.

"It's not that," said Isabella sadly. "I'm just—"

"Oooh, look! Green velvet!" exclaimed Buford, and just like that, the fashion show was on. If this were an actual episode, there would have been a song interlude while Isabella tried on dress after dress in an impromptu fashion show. Buford and Baljeet and Perry inspected and then shook their heads at each and every one. Eventually, the closet was empty, and Isabella still hadn't found something to wear.

"Whadda we do now?" asked Buford, looking at the pile of rejected gowns. Perry's brow furrowed thoughtfully, before he had a sudden idea. He pushed over a chair for some extra height and then, standing on top of it, he waved his wand over Isabella's head. As a shower of glitter cascaded down over her, the frumpy yellow dress that the princess was wearing suddenly began to change. The itchy wool skirt transformed into softest pink silk; the overlong sleeves shrank into short, tasteful puffed ones; the gaudy floral pattern was replaced by a scattering of golden sparkles. Buford and Baljeet looked on in awe as, with a little help of a little Perry Panache, Isabella transformed into a princess right before their eyes.

"Whoa," said Buford once again.

"Who knew platypuses had such extraordinary fashion sense!?" exclaimed Baljeet, bursting into applause, but Buford smacked him.

"Hold it, nerd." He ran a hand thoughtfully over his chin. "Looks good, Perry, but…eh, I dunno." He shrugged. "I feel like there's still something missin'."

Perry thought for a second, and then lit up. He reached up and tapped Isabella's hairbow with his wand, transforming into a beautiful golden tiara. Isabella gasped, putting her hands to her head.

"Ohhh," breathed Baljeet. Buford nodded approvingly.

"Perfect! Now she's really a princess."

Isabella walked over and looked at herself in the mirror over the vanity table. Any other time, she would have been thrilled to wear such a beautiful dress, but now…everything just felt so wrong.

"What do you think, Isabella?" asked Baljeet.

Perhaps I'm overreacting, thought Isabella. After all, just because your whole world was suddenly turned upside down, that wasn't worth freaking out about. Just because the three social service workers that raised you actually turned out to be fairies who had lied to you about your identity as a simple peasant girl, when in fact you were the long-lost princess of the entire kingdom of Danland—that was no reason to feel upset. But to miss her birthday party, and to miss Phineas—

Her eyes filled with tears. Just when she'd finally met someone, a new friend—and maybe they could have been more than friends, but she'd never know, because she'd had to leave him behind! He would probably arrive at the cottage any minute to find it dark and empty, and he'd wonder where she was, but she'd never be able to tell him her real name or tell him how she felt because she would have to marry the prince of Danland instead!—

Isabella collapsed onto the cushioned stool before the vanity and began to cry. Buford rounded on Baljeet.

"Now look what you've done!" he said angrily.

"Why? What did I do!?" protested Baljeet.

"I dunno, but you must've done something!"

"Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe it is you who made her cry?" said Baljeet, putting his hands on his hips.

"Are you accusing me?" said Buford threateningly.

"You are the one who is being so insensitive by acting like Isabella should be excited about being a princess!" retorted Baljeet. "Can't you see she is sad about missing her party!?"

However, Buford's reply was cut short by Perry's angry growl. With surprising strength, the platypus began to shove them both towards the door. Isabella clearly needed a few moments alone, and the other fairies' bickering was anything but comforting.

"Ow!" said Baljeet as Buford stepped on his toe.

"Hey, watch it, buddy!" said Buford to Perry. The fairy-pus glared at him, pointing at Isabella, and then at the door. The bully held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Alright, alright. We get the point! We're leaving."

Isabella didn't remember hearing the door shut. One minute, her sobs were accompanied by arguing, the next, they were the only sound echoing in the empty chamber. Isabella thought of Phineas' messy red hair, and his eyes, and his smile as he wiped the sap from her cheek, and his promised adventure among the stars.

What am I doing!? she suddenly thought. I'm the leader of the Forest Scouts! I can't just be sitting here weeping like any ordinary damsel in distress!

Isabella hurriedly sat up, scrubbing the tears from her face. "Ugh! I can't believe myself. C'mon, Isabella! Pull it together!" she said aloud. "Even if I am a princess, I'm still me. And if I just let this twist of fate dictate my life, then I'm not worthy to go to the stars. I'm not worthy of Phineas!"

She made herself take several deep breaths. "Those fairies made me gutsy. Well, I'll show them guts. I don't care what anyone says: I am going back to that cottage, and I am going to find Phineas, no matter what it takes!" Isabella looked around. "Now, how to get out of here?..."

She hurried first to the window, but it was at least a four-story drop to the ground, and even if they were knotted together, her Carnation-pink bedsheets couldn't possibly cover more than half that distance. Isabella was sure that, if Phineas were here, he could've whipped up some sort of hang glider using materials from the room, but even if she could have built something like that, it would take her far too long. On the other side of the door, she could hear Buford, Baljeet, and Perry talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. "The fairies are right outside, so the door isn't an option. But," she said, "thanks to my magically enhanced intelligence, I know that almost all castles have secret passages of some sort!"

Isabella began to poke around. She checked under the magenta rug, but there was no trapdoor. She checked the bookcases, but there were no secret books that you pushed in to reveal hidden chambers beyond.

Just as Isabella was thinking that her only option was to pretend to go along with the fairies and then make a break for it at the last second, her eyes landed on the tall, ornate fireplace, which sat unused in springtime. She gasped.

"Of course! The fireplace!" She raced to it. "Maybe there's a secret door or something, triggered by a loose brick, or a certain tile that you have to step on…"

But she couldn't find one. No matter how she inspected, prodded, and poked, the fireplace appeared perfectly ordinary.

"Come on, there has to be something!" she said, frantically going over the bricks once again, and then stopped as a terrible thought crossed her mind. "Oh, no. What if you need magic to open it?—" She shook her head, dismissing the notion. "No. There has to be another way. I'll find it. I have to get out of here! I have to get to Phineas! Oh, please; please open!—"

All of a sudden, with a click and a scraping of stone, the back wall of the fireplace slid open. Behind it, there was a stone archway, and through the archway, she could see the beginnings of a stone staircase that spiraled upwards.

"Oh!" Isabella exclaimed. "What do you know!? I guess all you needed was the magic word!"

After Perry had unceremoniously shunted them out the door, once in the corridor, Buford and Baljeet were clearly ready to pick up where they had left off with their fight. However, Perry quickly stepped between them and focused their attention back on Isabella. The issue of her sadness clearly wasn't just missing a party.

"It is that boy that she met," said Baljeet, biting his lip. "What did she say his name was?"

"She didn't say," said Buford, arms crossed over his broad chest. "I don't get it. What's she so upset about? She can see him anytime."

"That is not the point," said Baljeet impatiently. "The point is what she feels about him."

Buford was looking utterly confused. "Huh?"

"Don't you see? She likes him," said Baljeet. "Like, like-likes him."

"What?"

"She is in love!" said Baljeet exasperatedly. "But, as the princess, she is already betrothed to someone else. She cannot marry the boy from the woods, because she is supposed to marry the prince; see!?"

"Ohhhh," said Buford, the light finally dawning, and his face fell. "Oh, wow. That's…that's not good. That's really not good. That's actually kindasad."

"Do you have tears in your eyes?" asked Baljeet.

"N-no," said Buford hastily. He furiously scrubbed his eye with the back of his enormous fist. "This castle is dusty, that's all. Must've gotten some dust in there. Anyway, that's not important. The important thing is, what're we gonna do about Isabella? She can't marry the prince if she's in love with the woods boy."

"But what can we do about it?" asked Baljeet. "It is traditional for princesses to marry princes."

"Tradition-shmadition!" proclaimed Buford. "If it makes her happy, I don't see a problem with breakin' off the engagement."

"But her father might," Baljeet pointed out. "What about King Monogram? What would he think?"

"Oh," said Buford, pausing. "I guess he might not like it. But he loves Isabella. And so does Queen Carl. They loved her enough to let us take her to keep her safe. For all we know, maybe they'd be willing to break tradition if it'll make their daughter happy."

"Maybe," said Baljeet. "I suppose we could talk to them."

"We've got to! For Isabella's sake," said Buford firmly. "We've gotta at least try. Right, Perry?"

Perry, who had been pacing, suddenly stopped; his head whipped around towards the door.

"What is it, Perry?" asked Baljeet, but Perry had run to the door and pressed his ear to the wood. For a second, he just listened, but then he jerked away, his expression panicked.

"What's wrong!?" asked Buford, alarmed. Perry gestured frantically to the room; the three fairies sprinted inside just in time to see Isabella disappear through the open fireplace.

NO! Perry wanted to scream, but all that came out was a strangled growl.

"NO! Isabella!" Buford and Baljeet yelled, but before they could make a move, the wall slid closed behind her.

Isabella heard the fairies' yells behind her, but they only served to propel her faster through the archway and up the first few stairs. Her heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline. The stairwell was incredibly dark; as she fumbled for the steps with her feet, she wished for a handrail or something to hold onto, before she remembered that those hadn't been invented yet. Still, she thought that just having one hand against the wall might help—but then, as her hand slid across the rough stone surface, it came in contact with something.

"What's this?" she thought, puzzled. "It feels like…a light switch? But we're in the middle ages!"

She flicked it upward, and suddenly, torches in brackets along the wall burst into life. Isabella shook her head.

"Someone please tell me how that makes sense."

Nonetheless, she was grateful with the light. Now that she could see where she was going, she gathered up her skirt and continued up the steps, climbing farther and faster than she ever had before. She was fueled not just by the thought of pursuit, but by her determination to escape, and most importantly, by thoughts of Phineas.

Suddenly, she froze, her foot resting on the next step. Over the sounds of her own heavy breathing, she heard another noise. It was faint, distant, but it sounded like—a voice.

She hadn't thought that there would be anyone else in these secret passageways. What if it was a guard? Isabella concentrated hard, trying unsuccessfully to make out the words. The voice didn't sound smart and official. Instead, it was plaintive, pitiful. If it wasn't one of the castle guards, then who was it?

Her curiosity won out, and she kept climbing.

"AAAARGH!"

"Buford, pounding on the wall is not going to help! You will never be able to break it down," said Baljeet.

"Well, whadda you suggest, then, nerd!?" demanded Buford.

"Let us use our brains. There has to be something that triggers the door. Perhaps a loose brick that you push in, or a candleholder that is actually a lever!—"

Buford snorted. "Yeah, right!" he said sarcastically. "We might as well just ask it nicely!"

Perry's eyes suddenly widened. He turned to Buford and chattered urgently.

"Say what?" asked Buford.

"I think he actually wants you to ask the wall to open," said Baljeet.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!" said Buford. Perry growled.

"Buford, please!" said Baljeet. "We don't have time for this!"

"Alright, alright!" said Buford. "Sheesh, I can't believe I'm doing this." He stepped up to the wall and cleared his throat. A second passed. Then two.

"What are you waiting for!?" asked Baljeet. Buford looked at him.

"I, uh—" Buford scratched his head. "Well, I'm—I'm not used to askin' nicely for stuff."

"You mean you don't know how?" cried Baljeet. "Oh, come on! It is not that hard; all you have to do is say 'Please, Mr. Fireplace, would you kindly open for—?'"

He was interrupted by a loud click; the wall of the fireplace suddenly slid to the side.

"—us. Holy cow!" he exclaimed.

"I can't believe that actually worked!" said Buford. Perry chattered urgently, gesturing for the others to follow him. "Perry's right. No time for chitchat! We've gotta save Isabella!"

The staircase spiraled higher and higher, making Isabella dizzy, taking her further and further towards the top of what she knew was a tower. The voice was still calling to her; as she continued on, the words became more and more distinct.

"Hello?...Hello?..." it called. "Is anyone there? I could use a little help up here! Hello!?—"

They needed help! Although compassion wasn't one of the gifts the fairies had given her, Isabella still had as much of it as she had intelligence or guts, and she hurried on. At last, she reached the top of the staircase, where a heavy wooden door stood ajar. She pushed it open.

"Oh!" said Isabella. In the center of the room, there stood a large contraption dominated by a great wooden wheel. It looked like a giant spider had spun a web all over it, entangling both the strange machine and the black-robed figure beside it in a mess of woolen thread.

"Oh, thank goodness!" exclaimed the figure. "I thought I'd be trapped here forev—"

Suddenly he gasped. "—Princess Isabella!"

"How do you know my name?" asked Isabella.

"Erm—" The sorcerer floundered for only a second before he pointed to Isabella's head. "—well, you are wearing a tiara."

"Oh…right," Isabella remembered, reaching up and feeling the cool metal beneath her fingers.

"Well, what do you know?" crowed Malefishmirtz. "I was going to lure you up here using an evil ball of green light, but now you just happen to wander across my path after I'm incapacitated," he laughed. "I guess today must be my lucky day!"

"Huh?" Isabella was utterly confused.

"Never mind," said the sorcerer quickly. "Just talking to myself! Anyway, as you can see, princess, I'm a little tied up at the moment. Do you think you could get me out of here?"

"Sure," said Isabella, hurrying over. "Let's see—this end goes through here; that one goes around and over and back out…"

She had always been a natural at untangling knots (hey, she hadn't earned those eight Knot-Tying patches for nothing!), and in no time at all, the thread fell away.

"Ahhh! Freedom!" The sorcerer cheered.

"Are you okay?" asked Isabella.

"Oh, yes; yes, I'm fine, except for the humiliation burning in my soul like a wildfire," Malefishmirtz muttered as he grabbed his staff. He turned to the princess. "Come to think of it, if I didn't lure you up here, then what are you doing in the tower?"

"I was looking for a way out," said Isabella, as she began to gather up the thread and wind it back onto the spool. "I've got to get back to the cottage. Phineas is expecting me!"

"Phineas?" said Malefishmirtz. He rubbed his chin. "Hmm…for some reason, that name also sounds really familiar. Did the fairies hide him, too?"

"I met him in the woods today," Isabella explained. "I invited him to my birthday party, back before I found out I was a princess. If he gets to the cottage and I'm not there, he'll that the party was cancelled, and that I deserted him!" She looked up at the sorcerer. "He might think that I don't care about him. I could never let him think that!"

"Ohhh; so you like him?" Malefishmirtz asked, winking at her.

"Um, well…" Isabella blushed and turned away. "What about you? What are you doing up here?"

"Me?" said the sorcerer, pointing to himself. Isabella nodded. "I was just setting up my new spinning wheel."

"Oh, is that what this is?" said Isabella, walking up to the great wheel. "What does it do?"

"It turns wool into thread—I think," said Malefischmirtz. A sly smile suddenly curved his lips. "Why don't you put your hand out and touch it?"

"Wow, that's really smooth!" said Isabella, running her hand along the polished wood.

"No, no, I mean this part, here," said Malefischmirtz, gesturing to the shiny silver spindle. The point glistened in the light from the electrical torches. "Go on; just put your finger right there—"

"Why would I do that?" asked Isabella. "It looks really sharp."

"…Um, no reason." The sorcerer shrugged. "Just because. I dare you!"

"Um...I don't think so." Isabella shook her head. "I should probably go now. I don't want to be late to meet Phineas."

"Darn!" said Malefishmirtz, crossing his arms in a huff. "So close!..."

"Where does this go?" asked Isabella, holding up the spool.

"Oh, it goes right on top of the spindle; you just slide it on," said Malefishmirtz. He sighed, muttering under his breath. "I could've done better with something else. Like a needle. Or even a rose; come to think of it, their thorns are pretty sharp! Seriously, why is it always a spinning wheel? I mean, if you're looking for something the princess can prick her finger on, there's got to be something better than—"

"Ow!" Isabella let out a sudden cry of pain, jerking her hand away. A tiny drop of blood was welling on the tip of her right index finger. "I told you it was sharp!"

"You did it? You pricked your finger!?-" Malefischmirtz asked. He began to laugh. "Ha ha! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah, baby! Woo-hoo!"

"Hey!" said Isabella indignantly. "It's not funny! You should really file that down before someone else gets hurt. Now, would you happen to have a Band-Aid?"

"Oh, I don't think you'll need one," the sorcerer grinned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Isabella.

"You'll see…" said Malefischmirtz, rubbing his hands in anticipation. A moment passed in silence. Then two. Then three. "Any second now…!"

Isabella just glared at him. After another lengthy pause, the sorcerer scratched his head. "Well, that's weird. Curses don't expire with age, do they?"

Suddenly, the tower door crashed open to reveal Buford, Baljeet, and Perry, huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf from sprinting up the steps, their eyes bugging in panic.

"ISABELLA!" yelled Buford.

"Ngngngngngng!" yelled Perry.

"Whatever you do, do not touch the spindle!" shrieked Baljeet, pointing.

"She already did!" smirked the sorcerer.

"Wait, you mean that's what a spindle looks like?" said Buford. "I thought it was one of those little electronic tablet thingys—y'know, the one that you can read books off of?"

"Buford, that is a Kindle!" said Baljeet, slapping a hand to his forehead. "How could she possibly prick her finger on one of those!? They are not sharp. They haven't even been invented yet!"

"Yeah, well, neither have electrical torches," said Buford.

"Um, hello!?" protested Malefischmirtz. "Evil scheme succeeding over here!?—The point is, the princess has pricked her finger!"

"Yeah, but don't worry, guys," said Isabella brightly. "I'm—"

She paused midsentence as a great yawn suddenly escaped her. "I'm—fine…"

Without warning, her eyelids drooped. Before the fairies could react, Isabella crumpled gracefully to the floor.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!..."

"YES!" Malefischmirtz punched the air and threw back his head, his evil laugh ringing through the tower. "Too bad, Perry the Fairy-pus! Looks like all your careful planning and hiding was for nothing. You should have realized you can't fight a curse! You lose; I win! Ha, ha! Sweet dreams, Princess!"

With his evil speech complete, the sorcerer's moment of triumph would have been perfect if only he had managed to successfully disappear in a puff of purple smoke. As it was, he only succeeded in setting his robe on fire.