Hazelton stemmed the tide of memories. He had things to do.

He walked over to a painting and swung it aside to reveal a safe. In the safe were handguns, emergency cash and documentation identifying him as a certain M. Strank of Pennsylvania. There was also a bottle of water and a disposable cellphone. Hazelton emptied the safe and placed the contents in a backpack, pocketing the cellphone.

He was ready to go.

One point remained, however. Were the robots-his traitorous guards-ready for him?

Perry heard them before he saw them. A cluster of maybe a dozen robots headed for a wooden door. No Phineas or Ferb. He made up his mind: he would observe without engaging them. Picking a fight with them now made neither strategic nor common sense. He watched and waited as a man opened the door. He had a backpack on.

"As your leader, I command you to let me pass!" He clearly meant the order.

The robots backed off not an inch. "As of 17 minutes and 29 seconds ago, you are not anymore. Now, you must come with us. Two robots made to seize him.

The man worked very quickly. He brought his backpack to the front and withdrew something from it. The robots hesitated-clearly they had orders to take him alive, and therefore could not open fire. When the man returned the backpack to its original location, in his hands were two silvery Desert Eagle pistols.

Perry drew a long breath. This is getting interesting.

"You are outnumbered. You cannot possibly win. Therefore, surrender." The robot's voice had a cold, logical tone to it.

"Do you really think so?"

"My internal logic processor surmises that that is the best outcome for you."

"Then I won't be taken alive."

He brought up one pistol to his head, clearly making to shoot himself-

-the robot tried to shoot the pistol out of his hand-

-but Hazelton snapped the gun in the robot's direction, and fired-

-and brought up his other pistol, and fired!

Two robots hit the ground. Hazelton did, too, to avoid the laser beams.

Then he ducked back into his office and slammed the solid wooden door against his enemies.

Perry decided to engage now. He could have a vital ally, one which he needed.

To his credit, the first two robots didn't know what hit them. Their connections were severed before they had time to even react.

But the third robot did. It had time to swivel around and fire straight at Perry-

-who fell, and the shot flew over his head and hit a forth robot!

Now realizing an enemy was amongst their midst, the robots were confused. Which enemy do they go for?

They opted for Hazelton. Even as Perry was wrecking havoc, the robots managed to blast through the door-

-and be greeted by sheets of fire from Hazelton. Four robots went down in very quick succession.

Hazelton, however, paid a price for this victory. His Desert Eagle was blasted out of his right hand, taking a substantial part of his hand with it-

Bleeding and shocked with pain, he raised his left hand to fire, but only squeezed off two shots before it ran dry. For the second time today, a Flynn had run out of ammo.

He was completely defenseless, facing three robots. Even though he hit one in the leg and left a nice hole there, he wouldn't stand a chance.

So he had to use cunning instead. Hiding behind the table, he devised a plan. Head for the door, at the same time push the chair-

Ring!

The sound cut through the air as his cell phone rang. A dead giveaway.

He tossed the phone onto the chair and pushed it. The robots instantly fired on the swivel chair while Hazelton raced out from behind the table.

"There! It's a diversion!"

Hazelton's heart leapt. They bought the dummy! Maybe I can make it...

He made it about three feet before a shot to his feet felled him. He fell on his injured right hand. Pain flooded his brain, and he passed out...

Perry, however, wasn't going to let him be taken away. He needed him.

So Perry jumped on a robot's neck and pulled put all it's wiring, knowing every second an electric current could fry him-

-the robot fell over. His companion turned and only managed two wild shots before Perry was on him. The struggling pair fell over and engaged in a brutal hand-to-hand duel.

Presently Perry delivered a kick to the robot's face to lay him down, face-up. For one brief moment, there he was, standing over his opponent's face, and not realizing the danger until it was too late-

-the robot raised his arm almost horizontal and fired at Perry-

-but before it did, Perry did an amazing 360° backflip to land neatly on the robotic arm and push it downwards-

-the robot blasted itself with the laser arm. Perry jumped off it and headed for the last robot.

Shapes began to present themselves in Hazelton's view. He saw a blurry robot first. He blinked.

The image came into sharper focus.

"You are mine."the robot mouthed.

Then, inexplicably, he repeated himself.

"You are mine."

And then again.

"Y-You are m-mine-m-mine-"

Then the robot fell over backwards. Hazelton caught a glimpse of his savior, a blueish animal with a secret agent fedora. It had jammed an electrical cord into the bullet hole Hazelton had made earlier. The hiss of short-circuited wires lingered.

How can a platypus do that? It's just a mindless domestic pet! Okay, I have to adapt fast. He-it's a secret agent. Let's take that as fact and don't ask how it happened or why. But where did he-it come from? Was he well-intentioned?

Somehow, when Hazelton looked at it, he knew. He knew without asking. But he had to ask to make sure. Never mind that this animal was a secret agent every bit as good as James Bond. Never mind that animals can't even be secret agents in the first place. Never mind that animals can't talk. Hazelton was somehow sure he'd know its answer, be it yes or no. So he asked it:

"Are you from Phineas and Ferb?"

The platypus nodded. Yes, and a thank you for saving your life would be nice.

"Err...thanks, I guess?" But the platypus was already walking away and Hazelton hurried to catch up.