I wanna write…

Ughhh…

"You still mad about yesterday?" asked Buford.

No answer.

"…Oh, I see how it is. Silent treatment, huh? Well…" Buford cracked his knuckles menacingly, causing Baljeet to tremble. "I got ways'a makin' you talk."

"Okay, okay!" squeaked Baljeet. "I am talking! See? See? Words!"

Buford nodded gruffly in acceptance.

Baljeet sighed. "It took me forever to get all of the black stuff out of my hair."

"Still would stay away from open flames," Ferb pointed out.

Baljeet's eyes widened.

Buford grinned, taking out a lighter from his pocket. Bajeet's left eye twitched, and he ran to hide behind Ferb, who remained expressionless.

"…Did you have to go and start something?" asked Phineas.

"I started something?"

0-0-0

Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated~~!

"All of the tri-state area will tremble before the might of… HEINZ DOOFENSHMIRTZ!" Doofenshmirtz began to laugh evilly. "And there's nothing you can do about it… Pablo the Potato Sack!"

He had been talking to a potato sack wearing a paper hat, which fell over.

Heinz sighed. "Oh, it's just not the same! I hate to admit it, but I really do miss Perry the Platypus! After all, what's an evil scheme without someone to monologue about it to?"

Meanwhile, his daughter Vanessa walked by, an innocent bystander. Upon seeing her father talking to himself, she sighed. Vanessa honestly wanted nothing to do with him now that she was an adult, but since he offered her a place to stay, and was paying most of her college tuition, the least she could do was stay with him until she was finished with school.

Heinz noticed his daughter's presence. "Vanessa, be a good girl and listen to daddy's latest evil scheme…"

0-0-0

Isabella blinked. "Is Buford really still trying to catch Baljeet on fire?"

"Yeah… We don't really know when he'll stop," Phineas replied, shrugging.

Buford was indeed still chasing Baljeet around the yard with a lighter, the latter running like a chicken with his head cut off.

"You guys!" called Phineas. "Ferb was just kidding!"

Ferb shrugged. "Probably."

"Probably!"

The two stopped running, Buford looking more than a bit disappointed, and Baljeet looking extremely relieved. They both started walking back toward the group.

Buford frowned scornfully, folding his arms behind his head. "It's not like I'd really burn ya or nothin', anyway…"

Baljeet glared. "Then why were you chasing me with a LIGHTER?"

"I was just messin' with ya."

"GRR!"

0-0-0

Meanwhile, a crash was heard in the Doofenshmirtz secret lair.

"Huh? What was that?" asked Heinz, looking around.

After searching briefly, he discovered a pile of assorted junk saved from one of his previous inventions. From behind it rose a cloaked figure, face hidden from a dark hood.

"Hey!" exclaimed Dr. D. "Who are you and what are you doing in here?"

The figure brushed itself off. "Heinz Doofenshmirtz," it said in a ghoulish-sounding, heavily accented voice. "I am you, from ten years in the future."

"Oh, really?" asked Dr. D., unable to hide interest. "Come to warn me of my untimely demise? Because if you are, I'm fully prepared." He pulled a football helmet from nowhere and put it on his head.

The future Doof sighed. "No."

"Oh." He removed the helmet. "Whew! What a relief! Okay, okay. Then why are you here?"

"I am here to tell you that by November of this year, you are the supreme overlord of the tri-state area."

Dr. D. pumped his fist. "Yessss…"

"But in order to do that," continued Future Doof, "you must build this giant mecha robot and destroy everything in sight once it's finished."

"Ooh… A Destroy-everything-in-sight-inator?"

"…Sure. Why not?"

"Okay then!" shouted Dr. D. happily. "Hey… You're from the future, right? How long will this take?"

"About-"

"Actually, on second thought, no. I think I want the day to stay a surprise." He turned to Future Doof. "Future self, will you be staying awhile? I just need to know if I'll be needing to make up the guest room or not."

"Actually… I have… Uh, my… my evil empire to run, so I think I'll just… Show myself out."

"Okay, then. See you in the future."

"Uh… Yeah." The cloaked figure dashed from the room.

In a dark alleyway outside the lair, the figure sighed. "He actually bought it."

0-0-0

"Ferb… Are you feeling okay?" asked Phineas.

Ferb nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that…"

"Phineas," called Isabella from a distance, "Can you help us out with this?"

"…Sure." He turned reluctantly, casting one last worried glance at his brother.

Isabella was quick to notice the sad look on Phineas's face. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Phineas sighed. "I'm really worried about Ferb. I think he might be coming down with something."

At least half of the ex-Fireside Girls gasped. "Oh noooo!"

Over the years, Ferb had grown into an object of obsession for most of the girls in their school. Not that… he minded, or anything.

Isabella sighed. "You guys…"

Milly grinned. "Association of Ferb Fletcher Fangirls…"

"…unite!"

"… That spells 'afff'," Phineas pointed out.

Ginger snorted. "You guys can have Ferb. But Baljeet is ALL mine!"

Gretchen smirked. "Yet you still ship him with Buford." (A/N: Oh, you fangirls don't think guys know about your little lingo? We DO. Ohhhh, we do.)

"True…"

"What is true?" asked Baljeet, who was now, along with Buford, standing behind Ginger. Ginger yelped.

"And whatdya mean by 'ship'?" asked Buford. "You callin' me a sailor? Sailors piss me off!"

Baljeet sighed. "Everything pisses you off."

"And don't you forget it!"

"Anyway," said Isabella, "I'm sure he's okay."

"I hope so."

Buford patted him on the back. "Hey, cheer up! Wanna see how far I can throw the nerd?"

Phineas sighed. "No thanks, Buford." He walked off, head hung.

Buford shrugged. "Suit yourself! I'm still gonna do it!"

"Ferb…" Phineas started. "What's wrong?"

The older boy shook his head. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing! Are you sick?"

"No."

Phineas made a dejected little face, and turned his stare to his feet. "Why won't you tell me?"

Ferb sighed, patting the short redhead. "Don't worry about it." With that, he walked off, leaving his brother to do exactly what he was just told not to do.

0-0-0

Two men were in a high-speed chase on a closed highway. One was a tall and extremely muscular, with cold, gray eyes and dark hair, and the other was the green-haired man mentioned before.

The people in the other car were clad in all black, face masks covering their features completely, and shaded glasses hided their eyes. They were open-firing at the two.

The muscular man, who was driving, cursed loudly and held an arm out the open window, shooting at the enemy with a handgun. The green-haired man was meanwhile on a cell phone, trying to concentrate on the information being given to him despite the chaos going on around him.

A few more shots were fired, just as the first car barely dodged a pile of fallen debris. The muscular man drew his arm in quickly. "Damnit!" He turned to the other man. "The hell're you doing? Help me out here!"

"Shut up and drive!"

"Then you understand what you are to do?" asked a voice with a heavy Indian accent on the other end of the phone.

The green-hair nodded. "I do."

He pressed something on his watch and disappeared all at once, the very instant before the car lost control and ran off the side of a bridge.

Dun dun dun!

Okay, if you don't know who the three guys were, I should seriously go crawl in a hole. I practically gave you their names. And… for that, I guess I should go crawl in a hole anyway. But I find this sort of thing very interesting, so I figured you might too.

And what IS wrong with Ferb?

Ferb: … (shifty eyes)

Buford: HE'S AN ALIEN!

Ferb: … (hits him with an aluminum baseball bat)

Phineas: …Where'd you get a bat?

Ferb: I'll never tell.

By the way, my friend actually founded an 'Association of Ferb Fletcher Fangirls." She herself actually pointed out the fact that it spells 'afff'.

FLASHBACK

Her: It spells AFFF!

Me: …Aff?

Her: No! Afff! You have to hold out the 'fff' sound.

END FLASBACK

And… yeah. That's… She's actually accepting members, if anyone wants to join. I'm really curious as to how many people do. She threatened to- I mean, wanted to, make t-shirts.

Sigh. The girl needs help.