Lara Bergen: Runaway Hit

“I know it’s a bit of a mess,” he went on. “I’m just putting the finishing touches on my latest maniacal plan. You’ll see, in a few minutes,” he explained, his voice growing more demented and evil-sounding with each word. “I will unleash an unprecedented reign of terror upon the entire—” he held a magnifying glass up to the middle of his map and enlarged a small area on the eastern coast of the United States “—tri-state area. And Perry the Platypus,” he added with glee, “will never be the wiser!”

Perry stared up at him and whipped off his disguise dramatically.

“Ah!” Dr. Doofenshmirtz gasped. “Perry the Platypus! You’re a temp ?” he asked, surprised. “Are times that hard?”

But he soon realized that Perry was doing the same job he’d always done — attempting to foil the doctor’s plans.

“Sorry, Perry the Platypus,” he said, smirking, “but you are too late.”

He reached for a giant lever and pulled it. The building around them began to shake, and, within seconds, what had seemed like a regular office high-rise transformed into a thirty-story robot with long, pincer arms and feet the size of locomotives. Perry was now trapped inside a giant robot with Dr. D.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” laughed Dr. Doofenshmirtz as his robot rose up from the ground and began to stomp across the city.

“When it comes to havoc,” the villain crowed, “nobody wreaks it like me!”

But Perry wasn’t about to let Dr. Doofenshmirtz destroy the entire city of Danville — or the tri-state area! While Dr. D.’s back was turned, he yanked a panel out of the wall and touched two wires together. The robot turned and marched in the opposite direction.

“Whoa! Wait, wait!” the villain cried when he saw what Perry was doing. “You’re not supposed to touch that! Hey! No fair! Very clever, Perry the Platypus. I was trying to ignore you, but you’ve forced my hand.” He reached for a button over his shoulder and pressed it — hard. Instantly, mechanical arms sprang out of the wall and clamped around Perry.

“And now…” said Dr. Doofenshmirtz, as he finished reprogramming the robot to continue its destruction, “I shall relax with a nice, tasty deli platter.” He sat down and began to fill a plate with salami, olives, and cheese from a large selection in the center of the table. The robot stomped along, crushing buildings, parks, cars, and anything else in its path, while Dr. D. looked with delight at the food in front of him. It was well known that few things went with mayhem and destruction quite like a fine deli platter.

“Oh-ho-ho! Where are my manners?” He looked over at his prisoner, who was pinned to the wall. With all the charm of a gracious host, he fixed a plate for Perry.

“Here you go, Perry the Platypus,” he said, setting it down on a nearby table. “Care for some pepper?” He pulled out a pepper mill. “Just say when… ”

He leaned over Perry’s plate and began to grind away. Perry didn’t say when, so Dr. D. kept on grinding.

“Any time…” The pile of pepper grew higher and higher.

Perry surely would have smiled… if only platypuses could.

Back at the mall, Candace was fuming. First she’d had to deal with Phineas and the Ferb-Tones, and now her mother had outfitted her in a brand-new pair of hideous, black-rimmed glasses.

“Argh. I told Mom I don’t need glasses!” she muttered as she stomped out of the mall. “What the…”

Candace blinked, then blinked again. She yanked off her glasses and stared straight ahead.

No way! she thought. But there it was, as plain as day: a bus with Phineas and Ferb’s faces and P.F.T. all over it!

Well, at least, Candace thought, her mom would believe her now.

Or would she? The bus was pulling away!

“No! No! Wait!” Candace begged, calling after the bus.

But hang on!

Was that a picture of Phineas and Ferb plastered across the side of an office building? Candace grinned and headed back into the mall. “Oh, Mo-om !” she called.

She ran through the mall until she finally found her mother in a department store.

“Mom!” cried Candace, grabbing Linda by the arm. “Come here, you’ve got to see this!”

“But Candace,” said Linda, who was still trying on a jacket, “I haven’t paid for this yet!”

Candace didn’t care. She dragged her mom right out of the store, jacket and all.

Woo-woo-woo! went the alarm as Candace and her mom passed through the detector at the door.

“Hey!” yelled a security guard as he started chasing them through the mall.

“See?” cried Candace as she led her mom outside. She watched her mom’s face as she pointed behind her to the wall where she’d seen the huge sign for P.F.T.

Linda looked where Candace was pointing and said nothing. Curious, Candace turned around.

“Aaagh!” she screamed. The building wasn’t there!

That particular building had resided directly in the path of Dr. Doofenshmirtz’s building-robot and had been demolished only seconds before Candace arrived with her mother.

Candace stood frozen, trying to figure out where the building had gone while the mall guard walked up and nodded sternly at Linda. “Uh, ma’am?” he said. “You’re going to have to come back and pay for that.”

“Yes, of course, officer,” she replied, blushing.

As Linda followed the guard back inside, he turned to look at her more closely. “Hey, weren’t you Lindana?” he suddenly said.

Linda smiled shyly. “Yes, I was,” she said with a chuckle. “I can’t believe you recognized me.”

“Well, I was a huge fan,” he told her. “I loved that hit single you had in the ’80s—‘I’m Lindana and I Want to Have Fun.’”

Linda smiled more brightly. Somebody actually remembered her!

“You still have to pay for the jacket,” he said.

Linda nodded. “I know,” she said with a sigh.

So many things were happening at once. Dr. Doofenshmirtz’s pepper pile was growing higher and higher. The giant robot was marching on. Candace’s blood was boiling, and her mother was paying for her new jacket. And in yet another part of the city, the biggest record company in the world was offering Phineas and Ferb the deal of a lifetime.

“Boys,” said Ben Baxter, the president of Huge “O” Records, “let me start by saying, we love your act, and we want to be in the Phineas and the Ferb-Tones business.” He gestured to the other executives gathered around the conference table. “Uh, by the way,” he added skeptically, “aren’t you a little young to be pop stars?”