Lincoln and Johnny were sitting under the shady boughs of the oak tree in their backyard with Sergo and wondering how they were going to spend their 104 days of summer vacation. It was a late June day, the Loud girls were out of town visiting their grandfather, Sid and Stella were both at math camp, and there was nothing to do. For a while, they argued over how to while away the time. Johnny wanted to go to the creek, but Lincoln wanted to go to the ice cream shop. They decided against both and tried to brainstorm some third option, but it didn't go so well: Johnny suggested a movie, since theaters are cool and dark, but the only matinees playing were The Day The Sun Exploded and Invasion of the Fire People. They went to the park, but a bunch of older boys in sunglasses and motorcycle jackets chased them away for blowing bubbles.

Sighing deeply, Lincoln laced his hands across the nape of his neck, tilted his head back, and stared up at the branches above. They rustled lightly in the mind and shafts of sunlight fell through them, tattooing little gold coins across the grass. "Trees are really great," he said. "So tall...so leafy…"

"Yeah, they 'ight," Johnny said.

"You know," Lincoln said, "sometimes I wish I could just -"

An idea struck him and he sat up straight. "Johnny, I know what we're going to do today."

"What?"

Lincoln grinned. "Build a treehouse."

He looked around. "Hey, where's Sergio?"

Inside, Sergio, now wearing a tiny little fedora, jumped into the toilet, flushed it, and was sucked down the pipes. A moment later, he dropped into a large room containing only a chair, a giant screen, and a control panel that ran the length of the far wall. The screen flickered on, and a man with a gray mustache appeared. "Agent Sergio, we have word that Dr. Goofensquirtz is building some kind of doomsday machine." The man sighed. "Again. The guy never learns his lesson. Seriously, how many times do we have to kick his butt?"

He shook his head. "Anyway, you know the drill, you do this everyday."

The screen went dark, and a tube dropped out of the ceiling, slurping Sergio up like a vacuum. He was deposited into the driver seat of a bird-sized hot rod. He strapped the seatbelt across his chest, turned the key in the ignition, and tore down the street, leaving little trails of fire in his wake.

Back in the yard, Lincoln and Johnny stood in front of the tree in hard hats and orange vests and went over a set of blueprints as heavy earth moving equipment tore up the grass. A fat, sweaty foreman shouted orders to his men, and orange and white striped crowd control barriers cordoned off large swaths of the lawn. "Hey, guys," Ronnie Anne said, walking up, "what'cha doin?"

"Oh, hey, Ronnie Anne," Lincoln said, "we're building a treehouse."

"Cool, can I help?"

"Sure," Lincoln said.

Johnny helped her into a vest, and Lincoln sat a hard hat on her head. A bulldozer pushed a giant mound of dirt away from the tree, and a team of guys dug a large trench along the fence. A cement mixer backed in from the side yard, beeping all the time, and a big dump truck rumbled past, making the entire world shake. Inside, Lincoln and Johnny's father grimaced and clutched a can of non-alcoholic beer in one bear-sized hand. On TV, Dusty Rhodes gave his storied and inspiring "Hard times" promo, and Jason Velazquest had been listening to it again and again since he got out of bed, the way he always did when he needed a pick me up. Only all those bleep engines and grumbling noises were bleeping up his concentration.

Growling, he got up and went into the kitchen. He opened the back door, stuck his head out, and froze. The backyard was filled with earth moving equipment and construction workers. Lincoln and Johnny stood in the middle of it all with Ronnie Anne, pointing and directing their men. Jason's face grew hot. "Boys!"

They glanced over at him.

"I'm telling Mom!"

Turning, he rushed back into the living room and grabbed his phone from the end table. Those boys were always doing this and no one ever believed him because at the last minute, everything they did just magically disappeared. Not this time.

He dialed and a moment later, his mother picked up. "Mom, Mom, the boys are building a giant tree house in the backyard and they have earth moving equipment and everything."

The line was silent for a moment. "Chil', you done lost yo mind."

"Mom, I swear."

"Get off my phone playin' like that. You and yo stories, boy, I oughta come out there and whip yo bleep."

She hung up.

Darn it.

Elizabeth.

Throwing the phone down, he ran up the stairs and found his wife cleaning out the attic, a red bandanna wrapped around her forehead. In her Mom jeans, she was looking thick and Jason took a moment to check her out before spilling his guts. "Liz, Liz, the boys are tearing up the backyard with dump trucks and union crews, come quick."

Elizabeth sighed. "Jason, I'm sure you're imagining things."

"But -"

"But nothing, help me with all of this junk, most of it's yours anyway."

Jason slumped his shoulders and stomped. "Don't wanna."

"Jason…"

He threw his head back. "Fine, God!"

Across town, a giant building towered into the air, sleek and modern with many windows shimmering against the sun.

~Goofensquirtz Evil LTDDDDDD~

Inside, a tall, bird faced man with pallid skin and an eye patch stood in front of a digital map of the city, his hands behind his back and a mad, leering smile on his thin face. He wore a rumpled white lab coat and a red arm band with two interlocking Zs in a white oval. A team of henchmen stood at strategic locations, holding walkie talkies, while a few techs sat at the control panel, pushing buttons and pulling levers. Sergio slunk through the shadows, pressed to the wall and out of sight. He crouched behind a random red barrel and watched. Dr. Goofensquirtz preened at the map, where a bunch of red dots glowed like evil eyes, and Sergio tensed himself for a fight.

Before he could spring into action, however, a net shot out of nowhere and snared him like a spider web. He was hoisted up and swung from side to side, his fighting and fluttering doing no good. Dr. Goofensquirtz wheeled around and came over, his smile wide and sick. "Ah, Sergio ze Parrot," he said in a comically high pitched German accent. "You zhought zat you could sneak up on me, but I haft become very sensitive to ze sound of little bird claws clicking on ze floor. I heard you a mile away. You should veally be more careful next time." He turned around and clasped his hands behind his back. "You are just in time to zee ze unveiling of mine latest creation. For you zee, Sergio, today iz a very special day, it is ze day zat I vill get revenge on mine greatest enemies: Ze mean boys who vould not let me join their treehouse club vhen I vas but a child."

Sad violin music played and Sergio looked around in an attempt to determine where it was coming from.

"I vanted only to be a part of zheir merrymaking, Sergio, but zhey vould not let me. Zhey said zat I was veird und that I smelled. I vas poor, Sergio, I could not afford to bathe. Zat vas not mine fault. I haft carried zhis vith me for many years, und today I vill unleash mine vengeance in ze form of…"

He stepped aside, and the floor opened up. A giant missile thrust up and Sergio quivered. "Ze Tree House Eliminator Anator."

Dr. Goofensquirtz craned his neck to look up at the massive rocket. "Vun push of ze button und all ze treehouses in ze vorld vill be reduced to teeny, bitsy piles of ashes. Ze boys and und girls in zhem will be turned to cinders, Sergio, und they vill never make other children feel bad about zhemselves even again." He shot off a crisp, stiff arm salute. "Seig bleep"

Sergio thought of his friends Lincoln and Johnny.

They were building a treehouse!

Sergio's face darkened and he started to thrash violently.

Sixteen blocks southwest as the pigeon flies, Lincoln and Johnny looked up at the tree. The treehouse was rapidly taking shape. Just a few minutes ago it was a bare, skeletal frame, now that the external walls had been raised, it resembled their vision, a grand palace on a perch where they could chill and get away from it all. Upstairs, unseen by them, their father pressed his face to the grimy glass. He swept the yard and zeroed in on a man wearing a white hard hat and a suit. "Liz! Look! The building inspector! This is serious!"

Elizabeth knelt in front of a steamer trunk crammed with wrestling VHS tapes and gangsta rap records from the nineties, her back to her husband. "Yes, dear," she said, humoring him, "do you want to keep these?"

"Liz, you gotta believe me!"

"I believe you. Do you want to keep this Melle Mel record or not?"

She held it up and Jason's brow furrowed. "Is that the one wth Stupid Mutha Bleepas on it?"

"Yes."

"GIVE IT HERE, I LOVE THAT SONG!"

Outside, a crane sat the roof on top of the treehouse and a team of people climbed on to nail it down in place. Lincoln loaded buckets of plaster and hand tools into a cherry picker, Johnny and Ronnie Anne joining him. "You guys ready?"

"Ready," Johnny said,

Lincoln raised the platform until it was flush with the treehouse then stopped. Johnny went inside, followed by Ronnie Anne, each carrying supplies.

Back at Goofensquirtz Evil Ltd, Dr. Goofensquirtz stood with his back to Sergio and stared up at his rocket with a lustful smile. "I am such a genius, Sergio ze Parrot, you should be thankful to haft such a vorthy foe, not every little secret agent animal gets to go against ze best, you know." He shook his head. "Zee, ze rocket is a genius design, it hast a self destruct button on ze top part zat you could trigger, but you cannot reach it, Sergo, so it is zhere to mock you, my vay of laughing at you. It iz zo close yet zo far away." He threw his head back, hooked his fingers, and cackled like a madman, "You can not defeat me, Sergio, you are a loser. I feel so bad for you, I almost vish there vere some vay you could vin, but zhere isn't."

Sergio rocked the net back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster. It came loose from its moorings on the backswing and he escaped in a flutter of wings. Dr. Goofensquirtz turned just as Sergio lunged at him. The German screamed and ducked. "Fire ze rocket!" he screamed.

"Launch sequence initiated," a voice boomed over the loudspeaker. The world started to shake and white smoke gushed up from around the missile's base. Henchmen scrambled around like chickens with their heads cut off and Sergio's heart raced. He had to get to that self-destruct button.

He flew at the payload at the top of the behohmoth's shaft. Below, Dr. Goofensquirtz staggered to his feet and shook his fist. "Get avay from zhere, Sergio, leave mine rocket alone! Let me vin just zhis vnce!"

The rocket lifted off in a blast of smoke, and Sergio flew faster, his head down and his wings beating furiously. He reached the top and spotted a blinking red button. He hit it with his beak, and without warning, the rocket's internal thrust cut out and it started to fall, hurtling toward the Goofensqurtz Evil Ltd Building. "Nein!" Dr. Goofensquirtz yelled. "Ze rocket! Ze rocket ist coming!" He ran around in a circle while all of his techs and henchmen fell over themselves to get away. The missile hit the building sideways and exploded, the shockwaves blowing out windows and tripping car alarms for six blocks in every direction. The building imploded on itself in a puff of thick, gray smoke, and Sergio took off his hat and held it over his chest in respect of his very vorthy foe.

In the rubble, Dr. Goofensquirtz sat up and coughed, having miraculously survived with nothing worse than a few scratches. "I vill get you vne day, Sergio ze Parrot!" he cried at the escaping bird, "mark mine vords! MARK MINE VORDS!"

The treehouse was finally done. Ronnie Anne, Lincoln, and Johnny stood in the main room and looked around. A decorative T-rex head hung on the wall, a pink armchair and a yellow bean bag chair faced an old school television set with knobs and stuff, and the bare wood rafters were strung with Christmas lights. Outside, the construction workers filled in all the trenches, ruts, and tracks left by their equipment, then patted down the soil and replaced the grass.

Ronnie Anne plopped down on the beanbag. "This place is pretty neat," she said.

"And it only took us an hour to build," Lincoln said, "that's gotta be a new record."

Johnny sat on the chair and crossed his legs. "Anyone up for a little Call of Honor?"

"Sure," Lincoln said, "but -"

Sergio fluttered through the door and perched on the back of Johnny's chair.

"Oh, there you are," Lincoln said.

In the house, Jason dragged his wife through the kitchen. "Come look, come look!" he urged.

She sighed. "Alright, Jason, show me the construction zone you swear our backyard has become."

Oh, he would.

He opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing with his arm. Wah-lah.

Elizabeth blinked. "Oh...the boys built a treehouse. That's nice."

Jason's smile fell and he stuck his head out the door.

It was gone.

All gone.

The diggers and backhoes, the Mexicans, the trucks and cement mixers and OSHA inspectors. The ground was green and unbroken and it was like nothing had never happened.

"Not again," he muttered.

Then began to cry.