"So what are we celebrating again?" Pinky asked.
"I finally lost those three pounds." Perry responded.
He, Pinky and Devon the dog were at Mr. Slushie Burger. They had all ordered huge shakes, burgers and fries.
"You're going to gain them all again." Devon pointed out.
"Hey, don't ruin my celebration." Perry took a bite out of his burger.
"Yes, don't." Pinky said. "He gets really cranky if he doesn't get his fast food."
Devon swiped a fry from Perry's plate. "This is probably going to clog our arteries."
"What's an artery?" Perry said with his mouth full.
"Who knows?" Devon took another fry.
Perry slammed his burger back down on the table. "You stole my fries! You have your OWN fries. Did you know that stealing is AGAINST THE LAW? I could totally call the police right now and have you ARRESTED."
"I wonder what WOULD happen if you called the police." Pinky said thoughtfully. "I mean, would they really drop everything to come and take away a guy for stealing a couple fries?"
"Probably not, if they were already paid for." Devon said.
"No one takes my fries." Perry mumbled. He started slurping down his shake.
"So, I heard you were having a party." Devon squirted some ketchup on his tray.
Pinky started laughing. "Sorry. I just can't control myself whenever I hear that."
Perry sighed.
"The last time you threw a party was when you were two." Devon said.
"I remember that!" Pinky jumped up. "The cake exploded!"
"And then all the balloons fell down!" Devon said.
The two of them burst into laughter.
"And the power went out!"
"And the fire alarm went off- oh! Oh! Remember the monkey?"
"THE MONKEY! And the hula skirt with the watermelon!"
Perry glared at both of them. "It's not like it was the world's WORST party."
"Of course it wasn't! It was the UNIVERSE'S worst!" Devon responded. He quickly stopped laughing. "It won't be THAT bad, will it? You'll throw a better one this time?"
Perry shrugged. "Of course. I mean… I hope so."
"It had better be better." Pinky said. "Monogram fell asleep at that party."
"It will be, okay?" Perry snapped. He grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them in his mouth.
Pinky and Devon exchanged a glance.
"So, Perry the platypus, let me tell you my latest scheme…"
Perry was trapped in a giant stuffed toy basket. It was actually really comfy.
"Remember a long time ago, when I stole Slushie the clown and ripped his tape box out? Well, now, I have stolen all of the Carlos the caring clown toys!"
Perry's eyes widened in surprise.
"And I am going to rip THEIR boxes out! And there will be no more of them annoying me with their happy little positive sentences!"
Perry crawled out of the toybox and walked over to Doofenshmirtz.
"You escaped already?"
Perry shook Doofenshmirtz's hand.
Confused, Doofenshmirtz took a step back. "I don't quite understand… why aren't you… punching me?"
Perry picked up a Carlos toy that was lying on the ground, ripped it open, and tossed its voicebox into the trash.
Doofenshmirtz smiled.
After a few hours, all of the Carloses had been dismantled. Perry and Doofenshmirtz were sitting near a huge pile of the toys.
"Well, that sure was fun." Doofenshmirtz said.
"No more Carlos." Perry chattered.
"I gotta go at four. I'm planning Vanessa's party. She's always hated every one I've planned for her, though, except that one you blew up."
Perry stared straight ahead, then turned to Doofenshmirtz.
"What?"
Perry took a pad and pencil out of his fur pocket and scribbled something down, then handed it to Doofenshmirtz.
"Nwo ym fo ytrap a gninnalp pleh deen I." Doofenshmirtz read.
Perry sighed and turned the pad over.
"Oh! 'I need help planning a party of my own.' That makes much more sense." Doofenshmirtz stood up. "Sure, I guess I can spare a moment. What's your budget like?"
Perry handed him a sheet of paper.
"Ah, so these are your expenses." Doofenshmirtz laid the paper down on his lab table. "Ouch, you really don't have a lot to work with, do you? Hey, you've got a little son, haven't you? Does his mother pay you anything?"
Perry pointed toward the bottom of the paper.
"YOU pay HER? Well, that hardly seems fair. My ex-wife sends me huge checks. I use it to finance my evil. Eh… I suppose you could buy a balloon and a cupcake."
Perry frowned.
"Or I could take a break from building inators for a week and help you pay for a really awesome party." Doofenshmirtz mumbled. "You know, you're really lucky you're cute."
Perry beamed at him.
"I don't believe this."
Perry looked down at the floor of his lair, trying to think about the tile, the color, anything but the fact that Monogram was yelling at him.
Perry hated being scolded. He'd always hated it. It made him feel small.
"I sent you there to STOP Doofenshmirtz, Agent P. STOP him. Not HELP him. You've stopped him for years. Now, all of a sudden, you decide you want to rebel? I can't have that, Perry. It would bring down the organization."
The tile was bluish.
"Agent P, are you listening to me? Or are you just off in that little world of yours again? You NEED TO FOCUS. You're always so distracted."
Perry reached over and turned Monogram's screen off.
He slumped down in his chair. Sometimes he and Monogram weren't exactly on the same page.
"Wake up."
"I'm asleep."
"No you aren't."
"My brain is."
"WAKE UP." Palmer poked his father in the side with his paw. "I only get a couple days with you every other week. I don't want to waste it all just 'cause you snooze through HALF YOUR LIFE."
Perry curled up more in the pet bed. "Sleeping is magical." He murmured.
"Sleeping is a stinkin' timewaster!" Palmer snapped. He stormed away and returned with a jukebox, putting a CD in.
Then he pushed play.
"Oh yeah, uh huh, oh yeah, uh huh! Oh yeah, uh huh, oh yeah, uh huh!" Sang the jukebox.
"TURN THAT HORRIBLE NOISE OFF!" Perry howled, covering his ears.
"Forget it. Kendrine Adems will never stop singing unless you stand up."
"Palmer, please? Five more minutes?"
Palmer started dancing along with the music.
"FINE. I'll get up."
Palmer turned the player off. "Thank goodness. I was about to hurl from that so-called music."
"Kid, that ain't music. It's noise someone compiled on a scratched CD."
"Can we do stuff now?"
"Sure… as soon as I am refueled by coffee."
"TWENTY-THREE BOTTLES OF POP ON THE WALL! TWENTY-THREE BOTTLES OF POPPPPPP!"
Perry sat sleepily on the edge of Palmer's bed. Palmer was belting out the song like there was no tomorrow.
Perry was supposed to get Palmer home and to sleep before his mother came home. Perry had thought that singing the pop song would bore Palmer to sleep after a few verses, but Palmer had decided to join in. LOUDLY.
"YOU TAKE ONE DOWN AND PASS IT AROUND…"
"Hey, Pal, why don't we call it a night and just… sleep, okay? Or at least pretend you're asleep so I don't incur the wrath of Poppy?"
"Mom doesn't have a wrath. But if she did, that'd be cool!"
"She does."
"What number was I on? I forget. I guess I'll just have to start over."
"Please… no…" Perry covered his ears.
"NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF POP ON THE WALL! NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF POP!"
Poppy threw open Palmer's bedroom door. "Hush, Palmer. Go to sleep."
Palmer crawled under the covers and innocently closed his eyes.
Poppy glared at Perry.
Perry gave her a nervous smile. "Hey, I got him IN the bed. That's something."
"Get." Poppy pointed at the front entrance.
"Someone's cheerful."
"I'm just tired."
"I suppose I'd better go, then. Tomorrow I have to plan for my party."
"I'm too tired to laugh at your jokes." Poppy muttered.
"I'm being serious."
"I'm already hallucinating. I have to get to bed. You have to go."
"I'm going, I'm going."
Dennis the rabbit emerged from the huge hole he had dug. He dashed toward a tree and leapt into its branches.
Finally. He was out. That was the hardest prison break he'd ever made. The instant he'd been let out into the high-security dirt yard for some "fresh air", Dennis had started digging his hole.
Now all he had to do was hide. The guards would find the hole, and probably even come rushing out of it any minute. Once they were gone, Dennis would put some distance between himself and that dingy old prison.
How could he ever face the rogues again, though? He had been defeated by a BABY. Shoved out of an airplane.
He suspected that Perry hadn't been able to hang on to that plane either. They had both been outside of it when Dennis fell.
So Perry was most likely out of the picture, and Palmer, that powerful little creature, was probably in Colorado, where the plane had been heading.
Dennis loved assuming things, because usually he was right. It made him feel smart.
Still, it never hurt to check up on things.
Dennis pulled out his videophone and dialed the number of Fir, a psychic bat he knew.
Fir's image shone on the screen. "Well, look at who FINALLY escaped from jail. I knew you would, of course, but I certainly hoped it wouldn't take you THIS long."
"Where's Perry?" Darren snapped.
"Perry? At this moment? Probably down at his nemesis' place. They're planning a party that is going to be a great hit. Poor thing isn't fond of parties though."
"He's alive?"
"Yes. I told you not to go on that plane. I told you you were going to fall."
"I brought a parachute."
"And look how well that worked out, landing right in prison."
"Stop it, Fir. Now what about Palmer? That little powerful agent of his?"
"Palmer's in a beat-up old garage down in Danville with…" Fir thought a moment. "A caveman? No. Caveanimal? Old… old… a very… Ah! An old platypus. I believe his name is Pepper."
"Great. Old animals can't fight. I can just go right in there and grab him-"
"You're much too hasty, Dennis. You need patience. If you want to succeed, do as I tell you."
Dennis shut his mouth. He hated Fir bossing him around all the time. But it was handy to know the future before it happened.
"Excellent. You'll be able to get Palmer easily tomorrow. That is, ironically, the same day that Perry the platypus is throwing his party. If you go today, you will wind up in the middle of a traveling circus parade, and I don't believe you would like that."
"I wouldn't." Dennis heard men shouting. "Fir, I have to go."
He hung up and crouched down on the branch, watching the confused policemen who had emerged from the hole.