Major Francis Monogram Personal Journal

Entry 1

Monty has been on me all year, about how it isn't cool to sing opera. He really doesn't seem to get how important it is to me. I blame society for what my son is now, because wherever the snotty attitude came from, it did not come from me or his mother. He should look up to Carl, but instead he acts like the aspiring intern is an old, dirty, unusable rag that fell on his shoulder. He should want to visit his aunt and uncle, but when we told him he couldn't bring his phone he flipped out. I have seen him being very mean to some other kids. I mourn for my son. He did not choose the right path.

. . .

Phineas awoke from his slumber.

He was in a hospital bed.

"Oh, so you are awake?" Linda asked Phineas.

"Yes," Phineas responded.

"The doctors gave you thirteen stitches," Linda explained.

"Also, Isabella didn't tell me how you got hurt. Care to explain?" Linda asked.

"Buford and I got in a fight," Phineas admitted.

"Over what?" Linda inquired.

"He threatened Isabella," Phineas responded.

"Oh!" Linda exclaimed. "That thug!"

"When do I get to leave this hospital bed?" Phineas asked.

"Whenever you are ready," Linda answered.

And so they left.

. . .

When Phineas arrived back home, he went in and sat down. He heard Ferb even from the other room.

"Wait, are you telling me that Phineas Flynn, the most childish boy in the universe, got into a fight and actually grazed the other guy? I don't believe it. I just don't. Phineas couldn't hurt a mouse if it bit him in his-" Ferb started.

"Now, now, Ferb," Lawrence chided.

"That boy needs to man up! If he actually got in a fight, and the other guy didn't come out unscathed, he would actually be slightly manly, and I would eat my hat!" Ferb ranted.

"There are edible Mexican hats, the ones made out of tortilla chip and with salsa or beans or something in the rim of the hat," Candace interjected.

"It's a figure of speech, you Children's Encyclopedia!" Ferb countered.

"Hey! Those hats happen to taste really good!" Candace bellowed.

"Whoa! We're blowing it out of proportion! Calm down," Linda instructed. Ferb just left. Lawrence sighed and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, Candace, but Ferb has explained to me that he has ulterior motives. Just try not to take it too personally; he is going through a rough time," Lawrence explained. Candace gave a miniscule nod. She still didn't look convinced. Meanwhile, Phineas was thinking, with his palms on his temples.

"Why does Ferb think so little of me?" Phineas asked himself. "I remember when he wasn't like this. Those were the days; now Ferb is so stressed, I wonder if he even sleeps at night. Why do I have a sudden urge to- to pray for him? What good would that do? It doesn't help that I can neither prove nor disprove God's existence. He's just there, in the back of my mind, like he wants me to do something- Focus, Phineas. Christianity isn't considered cool anyways," he told himself. "Why does everyone think you have to be cool? Why can't you be cute like Isabella or scholarly like Baljeet? Apparently Buford is a stereotypical 'cool' kid. And I wish he never walked the earth. I am no longer childish, I am flat out anti-cool. And Ferb hates it. Why does he care whether I'm cool or not? He can't just end his friendship with me; we're stepbrothers. That 'ship' has already sailed. I hope he doesn't have anything important invested in this 'cool' business. Because he isn't very easily going to keep it," Phineas thought.

. . .

Ferb straightened his shirt. He thought back to Candace's hat comment from yesterday. It still annoyed him. It was completely benign, unless it was locked in a room with someone's reputation. If he wanted to rise to the top, he knew he needed to consult Buford, whether he liked it or not. Buford was a geek on cool, except he didn't talk about it like a geek, because it was a paradox, an oxymoron. You couldn't be a geek and a cool kid at the same time. He had knocked on the door thirty seconds ago. Ferb's black sunglasses complimented his overall appearance. Buford opened the door.

"Hey, man. I was wondering if you could help me with a goal of mine," Ferb explained.

"What is it?" Buford asked.

"I want to rise to the top of the charts. I want what Monty Monogram has," Ferb explained.

Buford looked visibly surprised.

"You know once you get there, you will eventually have to leave, and no one ever wants to leave. As a friend, I advise that you forget it," Buford advised. Buford might have been extremely mean to Phineas, but he was Ferb's friend, because Ferb was cool. It wouldn't ruin Buford's reputation to be nice to Ferb. But Buford felt that if he had done any less to Phineas than he did, it would have been very bad for his reputation. Even he was a slave to society. Society had a couple core people, the penultimate antagonists, the crafty vines that were only known to the "privileged". Power was all that they cared about. You had to be an insider to even know their names.

"No! I don't think you understand how much I want this!" Ferb yelled.

"All right! All right! Let me hook you up with my man, Hans," Buford offered. Buford offered the common sense that Ferb needed, but Ferb would not listen. Buford saw that. So he hesitated no more. "He knows a guy who knows a guy who knows how to get you exactly how to get you Monty's position, literally," Buford explained. Ferb stood wide eyed towards Buford.

"It is really that easy?" Ferb asked himself. Of course it wasn't, because you had to know the right people, but Ferb did. "Wow, great!" Ferb uttered ecstatically.

"Here is his number," Buford beckoned. On a strip of paper lied a ten digit number in this format: (***) - *** - ****

"Thanks," Ferb thanked. He ran out. He knew his next move.

I'm sorry that this took so long to write. I have just had a lot more to do, like writing my book. I am glad to have finally finished this chapter. By the way, I am planning on starting the next chapter on the same day Ferb is talking to Buford, but in Phineas' Point Of View. Poor Baljeet! I think he will play a bigger role later on. Inspiration for this chapter was from a song, Viva La Vida, by Coldplay, which needless to say, I do not own. I guess that is kind of like saying "I am not a cow from the moon!" XD If you thought I was a cow from the moon, be sure to PM me. If not, be sure to review! If you thought I just might be a cow from the moon, then I don't know what to say. 8-P