All names you do not recognize from the show are made up. Any similarities between them and real life are purely coincidental.

This chapter only: Rated K-plus for some bathroom humor.

Episode 3: To Baseball and Beyond

"It just isn't fair, Stacy," Candace told her best friend on her personal cell. "The longer it takes for me to bust my brothers, the less time I have left to get around to enjoying my summer."

"You know," Stacy said from the other end of the line, "if you just gave up busting, you'd be able to enjoy the rest of summer just fine. What you need is something to distract you from focusing on your brothers, something that will let you get away and actually do something for once."

"You're right, Stacy. But what could possibly be so important that it will distract me from busting my brothers?"

"Well, I can think of one—."

"Hold that thought," interrupted Candace, "I'm getting a call from Jeremy!"

"Yep, that's exactly what I had in mind," Stacy said to herself after being placed on hold.

"Candace Flynn speaking," the impetuous teenager announced.

"Hey, Candace, Jeremy here. So, I got some tickets to the Danville Dragons professional baseball game today, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me."

Candace had to cover the mouthpiece to hide her girly giggle. "You mean, like a distraction?"

"Well, sure; I was gonna use the word 'date', but, I guess 'distraction' works too."

"Right, date! Er, that's what I meant to say."

"Cool. I'll pick you up soon."

"Kay, see ya!" Candace ended the conversation with a dreamy stare into space before returning enthusiastically to her previous call. "Oh my gosh, Stacy, guess what just happened!"

"Jeremy asked you out on a date, which provides the perfect distraction from busting your brothers," Stacy predicted in a monotone voice.

"Jeremy asked me out on a date, which provides the perfect—oh, wait, you just said that."

"Duh. Saw it coming a mile away."

"Well, it works out perfectly. Say, why don't you come along?"

"I can't," Stacy replied, "I've got an appointment with my math tutor. My Mom says if my grade doesn't improve next semester, I can't go shopping for a whole week."

Candace gasped. "A whole week!? Can parents do that? I mean, that's pretty much borderline cruel and unusual punishment; aren't there laws against that?"

"That's exactly what I said, and apparently, there's not."

"Tough eggs," Candace sympathized. "Well, I'll call you back later, Stace, I gotta start getting ready."

Candace was surrounded by all kinds of wonderful sights and sounds as she and Jeremy found their seats. The air was replete with the smell of popcorn and hot dogs, and cheers erupted from the stands as the players took to the field to begin warming up for the game. The bright sun promised perfect weather and metaphorically reflected the inner tranquility Candace was feeling now that she was away from her brothers.

"I am, like, having so much fun right now!" She couldn't help exclaiming. Then she heard an all too familiar voice and immediately knew she was about to be made a liar.

"Prepare yourselves, children. We are about to experience the magical wonders of America's favorite pastime: the time-honored sport of baseball!" Lawrence Fletcher said as he led a group of children to the seats next to Candace and Jeremy. "I've been told that you Yanks take baseball as seriously as we English prize our football," he continued to tell anyone who would listen.

"Hi Candace!" Phineas cheerfully ejaculated as he sat down beside his sister.

Candace groaned. "What are you guys doing here?" She asked, slumped over and hiding her face in her hands.

"Well, Candace," Lawrence explained in his English accent, "your mother was out late last night raffling tickets for next week's cake auction for the bridge club. So I decided to give her a quiet house to relax in by taking the lot out to the ball game. Take me out to the ball game," he began to sing. "Take me out to the crowds!"

"We got to bring our friends along, too," Phineas looked down the row to count. "We've got Ferb and I, Perry, Isabella, Irving—"

"I brought pistachios!" Irving commented.

"—Buford," continued Phineas, "and, hey, where's Baljeet?"

Buford answered. "He couldn't make it, said he had a tutoring session or something."

The scene changes to Stacy's house, where Baljeet is attempting to explain the formula he was using.

"So you see, it is just a simple matter of remembering to put a plus-or-minus in front when you take the square root of both sides or else your final answer will be off. Did you get it that time?"

"Um, I kind of zoned out at the part where you, you know, did that stuff," Stacy replied.

"Oh, you mean when I multiplied by the conjugate?"

"I don't know, what's a conjugate?"

The scene shifts back to the game. "Well that's too bad," Phineas said, still reminiscing about Baljeet. "He's going to miss out on all the action. If we're lucky, we'll get to see Manny 'The Smasher' McCallister hit a home run. He's hit three in his last five games."

"But don't count out Donny Walters, the visiting team pitcher," Jeremy inserted. "They say he pitches a curveball so well the ball curves like a rainbow."

"Ah, you have a good point, Jeremy," replied Phineas. "But remember, Walters has a history of struggling at away games, so he may not be at peak form right now."

"While that is true," Jeremy countered, "he also outperforms his regular projections every sixteenth-and-a-half inning, so I think it's very likely that we won't see as much of that side of him today."

Phineas smiled. "Well, Jeremy, it seems you know a thing or two about the game. I look forward to a day's worth of back-and-forth baseball banter with you."

Candace groaned again, looking increasingly uncomfortable as the two talked across her. "Grr, that's it! I have to go to the bathroom!" She grumbled, standing to leave. "I hate it how boys exclude girls when they talk about sports like that," she mentioned as she passed the group on her way through the stands.

"I think it's dreamy," Isabella sighed, resting the side of her head against her interlocked fingers as she stared sideways at Phineas.

"Oh, brother." Candace rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Phineas said, looking up, "where's Perry?"

Perry peeked out from behind a garbage bin somewhere near the stands his owners were in to find his target: Section 9 ¾. Slipping behind the bin momentarily, he emerged from the other side disguised in the garb of a hot dog vendor. He tried to act natural as he pushed his cart past groups of avid baseball fans to stand in front of the platform. With a final glance over his shoulder and a thematic music box tune tinkling in the background, he charged at the space beneath the sign with his cart and zipped through the digital wall into his lair. He silenced the music box that turned out to have originated from a pocket inside his disguised outfit, discarded the disguise, and replaced it with his fedora to sit in his large red chair.

"Good morning, Agent P," Monogram briefed from the television set above. "It seems Dr. Doofenshmirtz is once again up to no good. We were able to hack into his surveillance and found this." The Major's face was replaced by a black and white video of Doofenshmirtz lying down on the ground while quietly playing marbles. All appeared to be calm in the feed.

"Uh, Carl, are you sure this is the right tape? It just shows him playing marbles; I don't think that's all that evil. A little old fashioned, perhaps."

"I'm sorry, sir, I know I told you we hacked into his system, but I didn't say we actually found anything interesting."

"Well, then, what good are you?" Monogram's stern face appeared back on the screen. "Sorry, Agent P, but I guess we don't actually know what Doof's up to. Just get over there before he loses his marbles, both literally and figuratively."

Agent P saluted his superior officer and blasted off.

"And the home of the braaaaave!" The crowd applauded and cheered as the last note hovered a tad heavy over the stadium.

"I must say," Lawrence announced as he and the children sat down in their seats, "it's not as moving as a rendition of 'God Save the King', but you know, that national anthem has grown on me."

"Sometimes it embarrasses me to be with your dad," Buford whispered to Phineas and Ferb.

"He means well," Phineas responded to the bully.

The group settled in as they listened to the announcers' voices booming over the loudspeakers. "And we've got a marvelous match-up today as the Danville Dragons host the Sunbridge Scallywags in a titanic tussle of pretentious proportions, accompanied alongside an assuaged amount of alliteration."

The announcers switched as a second voice took over. "You can really feel the excitement in the air today, Bob. Just listen to that crowd!"

"Go Dragons!" Some yelled.

"Go Scallywags!" Others screamed.

Amidst the noise, one random fan interjected, "I'm actually a Red Sox fan, so I'm kind of neutral about who wins this game."

"And there's the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated blimp," pointed out the announcer. "Yes, baseball fans, it's a perfect day at a balmy 82° Fahrenheit and a barometric pressure of…" His voice faded into the distance as a platypus-sized hover car zoomed past overhead in the direction of the dirigible. On cue, a male quartet of unknown origin or location emitted the familiar jingle: Doofenshmirtz Evil Dirigible!

"Now, what does this switch do again?" Doofenshmirtz asked nobody in particular as he inspected a lone square switch located about shoulder height on the wall next to him. Compulsively, he flipped it, and a trap door alongside him rotated inside-out accompanied by his nemesis.

"Perry the Platypus!" Doofenshmirtz shrieked at the sudden arrival of the action-pose-struck mammal.

"I told you to stop putting random switches all over the place," Vanessa drawled from the corner where she sat looking over a magazine. "And not just because they don't fit with the interior design."

Doofenshmirtz chuckled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, I'm sure there was a perfectly good reason for it at the time."

"Whatever."

Doofenshmirtz looked at his daughter. "Can you just trap Perry the Platypus for me already?"

With a heavy sigh and heavier eye-roll, Vanessa clicked the large red button on a single remote. A used pizza box launched out of somewhere and swallowed the secret agent whole, leaving one little flap open on top out of which he could stick his fedora-capped head.

"How do you like your trap, Perry the Platypus?" The evil scientist asked rhetorically. "Is it comfy? Cozy? A little tight? Good! It's one of my better ideas, I'll admit. I call it the Take-Out-The-Trash-Inator, or 'TOTTI' for short. See, it's an acronym, the conventions of which are only slightly more overused than alliterations. It lets me recycle some of my garbage as traps; I think next time I trap you, it'll be in a Mr. Slushy Burger take-out bag."

"Alright, what'd I miss?" Candace asked as she took her seat.

"We haven't seen too much happen yet," Phineas said. "The score is still tied up at zero-zero."

"Still? Man, I didn't know baseball could be so boring."

"Oh, give it a chance, Candace," Lawrence said. "Most Americans think football is boring yet it captivates the rest of the world!"

"Dad, soccer is lame," Candace dryly remarked.

"You know," Phineas thought aloud, "Candace has a point. From a spectator's perspective, sometimes a slow game can be a little tedious to sit through. Hey Ferb, I know what we're going to do—!"

"Oh no! You do not know what you're going to do today!" Candace interrupted. "We're at an outdoor facility, surrounded by the public; there's no way you can start building your crazy contraptions right here in the stadium!"

"Well, sure we can," Phineas chimed optimistically. "Granted, we don't have a lot of space, but I'm positive we'll be able to think of something, and nothing can stop the power of positive thinking."

"Ooh, I'm watching you!" Candace spat.

"Ah, great! Safety first!" Phineas said, misconstruing what she had meant, as he and Ferb stood to get to work.

"Grr!" Candace couldn't suppress her own growl of disapproval. So much for distracting myself from all this, she thought to herself. I wish Stacy were here.

Stacy wished she could be anywhere but here. "So, why do they call them 'logs'?"

Baljeet patiently explained. "Logarithms simply are a means we use to calculate exponents to numbers you are working with."

"I prefer using logs to make a fire."

Baljeet gasped. "No! You cannot burn math homework, it would be unthinkable! Oh, wait, you meant the other kind of logs, hehe," he realized with a short laugh.

There was a bang! as Ginger barged through the front door and slammed it behind her. "Stacy, have you seen my tennis shoes?" She hollered, not realizing who was in the living room until she came in through the entryway and nearly jumped in surprise.

"Baljeet!" Ginger squeaked, eyes lighting up like flashbulbs. "I didn't know you were here."

"Were you looking for your pink ones or your orange ones?" Stacy asked her sibling.

"Orange whats?" Ginger responded with a glazed look.

"Shoes?"

That snapped her out of it. "Oh, right, um, it's actually not that important right now," she said, saddling down between the two (and slightly closer to Baljeet). "What are you guys doing?" She said, picking up a piece of scratch paper to dissect its inscriptions.

"We are engaging in a rudimentary overview of the basics of calculus," Baljeet stated.

"He's helping me improve my math grade," summarized Stacy.

"Oh, I need some help with my math, too!" Ginger exclaimed.

"What?" doubted Stacy. "Ginger, you're not even in a high school math class!"

Ginger waved her sister off. "So, Baljeet, tell me about, um, these things." She indicated by pointing at the paper in front of her.

"Well," the small boy nervously began, "we were just talking about logarithms, and how they are the inverses of exponential functions."

"Inverses of exponential functions," repeated Ginger. "Wow, that is really interesting."

Stacy ducked out of sight to make a soft gagging noise while pretending to depress her uvula with her forefinger.

"Now, Perry the Platypus, I'm sure you are wondering what evil scheme I am hatching today." Doofenshmirtz initiated his lengthy monolog. "You see, it all began two days ago, at the supermarket." The edges of the screen rippled out to show Doofenshmirtz waiting in a check-out line. "I was standing in line to check out and the lady in front on me was taking for-e-ver! No joke, she must have had like six hundred cans of Dr. Soda piled onto her cart, it looked like one of the pyramids or something. I kept on waiting, and it kept going, on and on. I would have, you know, switched to a shorter line, or something, but there were other shoppers behind me, and I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of somebody ducking out ahead of them.

"As I waited, I suddenly began to feel a little queasy. It was then that I realized my grave mistake." Still in his flashback, Doofenshmirtz began perspiring and clutching his stomach, looking rather sick. "I had stood waiting for too long. My lunch of beans, broccoli, and cheese suddenly flared back at me with, shall I say, disastrous results." Doofensmirtz hunched over his cart in shame as the customers behind him began plugging their noses and shooting him dirty looks. It was too painful, and his mind refocused back on the present.

"It was the most embarrassing moment of my life. Except for the time I had to wear dresses to school. And the time I made that toilet video in high school. And the time those wales took my girl, and—okay, you know what? I guess there's a lot of ignominiously humiliating moments in my life, Perry the Platypus; but I'm telling you, this one ranks up there."

"Oh, I'm sure it 'rank', all right," Vanessa observed, causing Agent P to smirk.

"Ha ha, very funny Vanessa," Doofenshmirtz said. "But we'll see who has the last laugh. Behold, the Gassy-inator!" Doofenshmirtz threw both arms dramatically in the direction of a large stand rising out of the floor, a futuristic looking rifle resting on top. "I don't think I need to clarify what it can do. I plan to unleash its might on an unsuspecting Tri-State Area beginning with the most densely populated sector; which according to this computer screen is right below us at the Danville Dragons baseball game!" Doofenshmirtz laughed maniacally as he took the device and pointed it out the window, aiming for the crowds beneath.

"Boys will be boys," Vanessa sighed, casting aside her magazine and popping her headphones into her ears.

"Boys and their sports," Candace muttered to herself as she watched the crowd around her rise to their feet in protest at the umpire's call.

"Ferb, I think it's time we test out our first invention," Phineas said. Ferb withdrew a small camping chair from his pocket (how it fit there in the first place remains a mystery) and fastened it to the bench upon which he and Phineas sat.

"That's your lame invention?" Candace asked smugly. "Hah, I shouldn't have even worried."

"Wait for it," Phineas told his sister. Ferb pulled a drawstring and the chair instantly unfolded into a big, fluffy recliner large enough to be comfortable in yet small enough it squeezed into place. Phineas made one for his seat, too, and extracted a beverage from the armrest for a tasty slurp. Checking back on the action, Phineas realized he couldn't see over the row in front of him. "Uh, Ferb? Forget something?"

Ferb pulled a lever to his side and their new seats jumped twenty feet into the air, supported by a thin metal beam. Candace's jaw dropped.

"That's better," Phineas admitted. "Oh, hey, looks like it's the end of the fourth inning! That means we're up!" Ferb brought them back down and they stood to head off again.

"And where are you going this time?" Candace inquired, but it was too late; they were already gone. Moments later she spotted them down on the field.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," one of the announcers boomed, "for the break, we'll be entertained by Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher. Let's see if they can break the record for the world's fastest pitch!"

"Yeah, right," Candace said. "There is no way they can break the world record. In fact," at that, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the same number she always did.

A groggy voice answered. "Candace, I'm in the middle of a nap. What do you need?"

"Mom, turn on the TV right now, Phineas and Ferb are up to something!"

"The boys are on TV? You're right, that is exciting." Candace heard some movement on the other end of the line, and allowed herself to watch what was happening on the pitch.

The umpire handed a baseball to Phineas, who in turn handed it to Ferb, who promptly gave it to a robot standing next to him.

"We built a robot that uses a state-of-the-art hydraulics chamber to pump extra torque," Phineas told the crowd through a microphone. "Let's see how it does."

The umpire pulled out a radar gun and stepped aside for the robot to assume the pitcher's mound. With a ridiculously unrealistic wind-up wherein the robot rotated its arm like a wind mill, the robot jerked forward, jettisoning the ball into the catcher's mitt at lightning speed.

"I read 145 miles per hour," the ump said. "That's a world record! Congratulations!"

And the crowd went wild. Phineas and Ferb waved as they made their way back to their seats.

"Mom, did you see that?" Candace asked. "Phineas and Ferb used a robot to break the world record fastest pitch! Hello? MOM!"

"I can't hear you, honey, there's too much background noise," Candace heard her mother say. "Let's see, here's the game; oh, it's on commercial, Candace. I must have missed it."

Candace snapped her phone shut and threw her head back. "Curse you, undesired television advertisements!" She screamed at the sky with a raised fist for dramatic effect.

"Just listen to those screaming fans!" The announcers spoke as Candace's outburst was replayed on the Big Screen Jumbotron.

"Time to test out my Gassy-inator," Doofenshmirtz said as he looked down the scope mounted atop the barrel of his Inator. "Yes, that red-headed teenage girl on the big screen down there looks like the perfect target. See, she already looks like she's having a bad day, and I know just the way to make it worse!"

Agent P was horrified to see that Doofenshmirtz had the Inator aimed straight for Candace. He stretched out his beak to try undoing the flap that held the box shut.

"And fire!" Doofenshmirtz shouted. A beam launched out from the Inator. Agent P craned his neck as far as it would go, finally straining just enough to release the fold and springing out of his trap to slam Doofenshmirtz with his tail.

Jeremy wasn't sure if he heard what he thought he just heard. Phineas, who had just sat down on her other side, spoke what Jeremy was thinking. "Candace, was that you?"

Candace tried her best to stop her face from turning red. "Oh, come on, Phineas. Grow up." She kept her face straight despite the snickers coming from either side of her.

Of course, Buford was not so inclined to keep quiet about it. "Hey, everybody, guess what! Candace farted!"

Isabella gasped. "Buford, that was rude!"

The bully ignored her and begun to chant. "Candace farted! Candace farted!"

"It's not a fart; it's just a natural body function!" Candace replied back.

"Candace farted! Candace farted!"

"Don't call it that! It's just a body function!"

"That's what you get for breaking the 'fart-th' wall, the point where it no longer breaks social conventions to discuss flatulence," he said. Thankfully, the obscenities ended there as Buford snickered to himself, having no intentions for allowing a song to start and distract him from the game.

Doofenshmirtz was unable to appreciate the success of his machine as he was preoccupied wrestling with the platypus. "Unhand me!" The evil scientist croaked as he reached for a switch on his wall that looked like a regular light switch; but once hit, a boot loaded to a spring jumped from behind a trap door in the wall, knocking Agent P flying over Doofenshmirtz's shoulders.

"See, Vanessa? I told you I needed all these switches!" Thinking quickly, Doofenshmirtz noticed a lever-type switch sitting nearby on his counter. He flipped it and immediately a cannon emerged from the tabletop, firing fruit upon his nemesis. Agent P easily dodged most of the ammunition, but was hit in the face by one lucky shot with a rotten tomato.

"That's right, Perry the Platypus! Fear the awesome power of my mighty fruit-wielding—urf!" With a splat, a tomato to the face cut Doofenshmirtz off mid-sentence. "I know always cutting me off is your thing, but where did you get that from?" He asked.

Agent P shrugged.

"Okay, if that's how you want it, then prepare yourself!" Doofenshmirtz turned his Inator on Agent P and began firing left and right, taking no care whatsoever to aim where he was shooting. Not surprisingly, none of them hit their target; a number of them instead escaped out the window.

A beam struck a balloon that a kid was holding, expanding the balloon to several times its original size.

A beam struck a pair of ankles showing under the stall in a bathroom; one foot was visibly tapping to the background music of a catchy tune possessing meaningless lyrics until the sound was drowned out by a toilet flushing.

A beam struck a cow chewing its cud in a pasture nearby. The cow expressed not a hint of surprise that there was anything out of the ordinary.

"Why can't I hit anything decent?" Doofenshmirtz asked aloud.

Agent P tapped his nemesis on the shoulder. "What now?" The evil scientist asked, turning from the window. Agent P took a lemon he'd acquired from the cannon's ammunition stocks and shoved it tightly down the barrel of the Inator, rendering it incapable of firing further.

A final wayward beam found a mirror standing in a landfill and was reflected back at the blimp. The blimp began to expand as it bloated with excess amounts of gas. Agent P sprinted for a nearby window and was about to jump out when Vanessa stopped him. "Wait Perry, can you drop me off at my Mom's really fast on your way out?"

Agent P looked back for a moment before nodding.

"Thanks." The secret agent took her by the hand and leapt out the window, falling briefly and then unleashing a two-person glider with his face occupying the logo on the back.

The blimp continued to expand to the breaking point, finally bursting and shooting through the air like a shooting star due to the immense pressure of gas escaping through the rupture. Despite the rapidly growing distance between the two, Agent P distinctly heard Doofenshmirtz call before being ultimately whisked away, "Curse you, Perry the Platypus!"

"Looks like the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated blimp has high-tailed it out of here, and who can blame it?" The announcer cried with a mournful voice. "That final run for the visiting team looks like it has devastated the morale of the Dragons. I'm sad to say we may be having a sad ending to this story after all, folks."

"Right you are, Bob," the other announcer took over. "Any hope for the home team has all but dried up like a whale who found itself beached in Death Valley. As the classic song goes, 'Root! Root! Root for the home team! If they don't win, it's a copyright infringement to quote all the lyrics in this song!' Clearly, unless someone here is capable of the cheer of the century, this ball game is in the books."

"I don't believe it!" Phineas said discontentedly. "If they don't win, it's a shame!"

"Yes, I am sorry, Phineas," Lawrence consoled, "but you can't win them all, son."

"No, no you can't," replied Phineas. "But sometimes, all you need is the right spark. Ferb?"

Ferb gave his step-brother the thumbs up before pulling a remote out of his pocket and pressing its sole red button. Suddenly, giant lights appeared out beyond the outfield fences, rising dramatically to overlook the stadium. In a flash the electronic displays created a magnificently designed three-dimensional projection of a dragon. The creature roared loudly before belching a great fireball into the sky. From the flames the words Go Dragons! were born, and the stadium erupted in cheers for the host team.

"It's beautiful!" One of the announcers commented. "I've never seen anything like that before!"

Candace already had her phone to her ear. "C'mon, Mom! Pick up! Pick up!"

Linda stirred and peeked out from under her velvet black sleeping mask. With a grunt of impatience, she hit the silent button and rolled over.

Candace realized her mother wasn't picking up. "I can still use the camera to get my evidence!" She said aloud, trying to get a clear shot through all the cheering fans that were waving and hollering in front of her.

"I think that should do the trick," Phineas told his step-brother, unaware of his sister's efforts to capture their work photographically. Ferb hit the button again, and the projection vanished.

"Oh, blast!" Candace said, returning both her rump to her seat and her attention to the game.

"It's the bottom of the ninth, the score is tied, and Mighty Manny 'the Smasher' McCallister is up to bat with two outs! Folks, you can't write drama better than this!" The announcers explained.

The stadium held its breath as the pitcher wound up and released the ball. Manny McCallister swung almost in slow motion. The ball veered, ever so slightly. But it was too late; with a crack, the bat connected, sending the ball sky-high.

"It's up! It's flying! Deeper, deeper, over left field! Oh, it's gonna be close! I can't watch, the suspense is killing me!" The announcer cried, though nobody was listening.

"And it's, it's, it's gone! A home run! And that brings the final score to your Danville Dragons, four, the Sunbridge Scallywags, three!" The stands roared in jubilation as fireworks cracked against the sky.

Take me out to the ball game! The speakers roared the classic song. Take me out to the crowds! Buy me some peanuts and—.

At that moment, the people realized that that song couldn't be played on a TV show due to copyright restrictions. In the awkward silence that followed, Phineas looked at the gang, and said, "guys, you know what to do."

The music started again, this time with something that was actually owned by the show and therefore allowed to be aired.

Go Dragons! Go, go Dragons!
Go Dragons! Go, go Dragons!
Go Dragons! Go, go Dragons!
Go Dragons, go!

"Oh, so you use the quadratic formula to solve for 'x', but you still need to test each answer against the intervals in the graph to find the exact solution," Ginger declared.

"Yes," Baljeet assured, "that is correct!"

"You mean you actually get this?" Stacy asked her sister.

"It's pretty simple," Ginger replied.

Stacy slapped herself in her forehead. "That's it, we're done. Lesson over," she said, standing to brush Bajeet out the door.

"But we are scheduled to continue for another twenty minutes," he tried to explain before getting the door shut in his face.

"Stacy!" Ginger complained. "What was that for?"

"Don't you have some troop activity you're supposed to be at?"

Ginger gasped. "Tennis practice!" She remembered, quickly running upstairs to grab her things.

Stacy crossed her arms in disapproval. Assured she was alone, she whispered, "I think I'm gonna go ask Perry to use that mind-wiping device on me now, so I can forget everything I just saw."

Okay, so I just wanted to apologize if I offended anyone with those bathroom jokes, but after Candace's you-know-what in Return Policy I just had to get those out of me. I hope you all are enjoying these. I have several more planned so please wait patiently and I will post them when I can. I am a bit of a perfectionist so I take a long time to write, but it's worth it to make sure you guys are reading only my best work! As always, thanks for reading!