PaF-Backstory Time: Assignment

No matter how hard the platypus tried to relax, sleep wouldn't come. He was sure that he'd passed the final test. He knew he had. But... what if he hadn't? He'd stumbled and nearly fallen in the obstacle course, and he knew that he could have swum those laps faster. He'd actually forgotten to keep his eyes open at one point.

And the driving. He'd parked crooked. Still within the lines, but crooked.

And he'd been bluffing in poker. He hadn't even noticed that he had a straight.

And...

There was a knock at the door. The platypus chattered, and the door opened, revealing... Major Monogram?

Major Monogram? What was he doing there? Why would he come to the platypus's door? He didn't give out the test results personally. What had the platypus done? Had he done something wrong? Had he failed?

"Sorry to bother you, but..." began Major Monogram. He paused, and knelt down further to get a better view of the platypus's room. "Uh... Are you okay? You look kind of... You're hyperventilating. Is that healthy?"

The platypus controlled his breathing, smiled, and gave a thumbs up. Whatever the problem was, he'd face it with dignity.

"Well, you're probably wondering about your test results, you know, how you... did... Uh..."

So it was about the test. Had he failed? He'd failed, he knew it. He wished he hadn't taken so long to escape that barbed-wire cage.

Major Monogram shifted uncomfortably a few times, then said "Why don't we discuss this outside?"

The platypus nodded dully. Anything to put off the bad news.

Major Monogram withdrew, and the platypus followed him out to the hallway, and then to his office. He felt like pulling his fur out, for some reason. Just grabbing a tuft of fur in his bill and yanking it out.

"Okay, uh, take a seat," said Major Monogram when they got to his office.

The platypus sat down in one of the small animal sized seats. He never had figured out what to do with his tail, so he just sat on it. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was more comfortable than the other options.

"I've always said you were the best trainee to come through this facility," began Major Monogram.

The platypus nodded sadly. He was sorry to have disappointed him.

"And now we have proof!" continued Major Monogram, suddenly cheerful. "You got the highest score in the history of this institution!"

The platypus nodded sadly again, then realised what he'd heard and stared. He'd... passed?

And done well?

Major Monogram patted him on the head. "Congratulations... Agent P!"

The platypus stared.

Major Monogram wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry, I... I just get so choked up..." He handed the platypus a hat.

The platypus held it in his hands and turned it around a few times.

After a few seconds, Major Monogram said "You can put it on if you want."

The platypus snapped out of his reverie and looked at him.

"Go ahead, Agent P!" said Major Monogram. "I... wanna see how it looks on you."

Slowly, the platypus put the hat on his head.

Major Monogram inspected him. Then he coughed a couple of times and said "I'm... I'm sure you'll grow into it."

The platypus took the hat off again.


That night, he and the other newly qualified agents were taken to the assignment centre in a big van. As part of their cover, they had to travel in cages. Agent P was in a cat carrier. He didn't really care, but it did make it hard to see out the window. He craned his neck, trying to get the best view. He'd trained in driving many types of vehicles, but he'd never left the facility before.

He could see sky, dimly lit trees, and some buildings, but nothing else. He wanted to get out under that sky and go on a mission.

Dr Gatti drove, while Carl sat behind with the agents. He was supposed to spend the whole time briefing them, but he condensed the explanation down to  thirty seconds and spent the rest of the ride asking if he could drive. He had a learner's permit now. He was responsible. He could drive, just this once.

The first time he brought it up, Dr Gatti said "You're not driving," and ignored him for the rest of the trip. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to get a response from her, Carl switched to annoying the agents about it.

"You think I should drive, right, Agent T?" said Carl. "What about you, Agent P?"

Agent P didn't react at all. He was practicing his relaxed look. The examiners had all complimented him on his "dumb animal impression", and while he wasn't sure if he should be offended or not, if they thought he looked dumb, his host family would think the same.

"Don't you think I'm mature and responsible enough to drive, Agent P?" Carl pressed.

That name was going to take some getting used to.

Carl reached into his coat pocket. "Look! I got a gold star on my tenth grade report card!" He shoved a sheet of paper into Agent P's face.

Agent P looked. Carl was right. It was a gold star. It was a good thing that he was so excited about being assigned, or Agent P would have been a bit annoyed. Carl had lived a lot of years and Agent P hadn't even lived one. Agent P should not have been the more mature one in this situation.

They arrived, and Carl began unloading the agents, still complaining that he should have been driving. Agent P got a cage on a floor. It was no larger than the cat carrier, and didn't look very comfortable, but if he was lucky he wouldn't be there for long. Unfortunately, that was all up to the humans who were coming to adopt them.

Agent P turned around and around, trying to find the best position for sleep. The assignments wouldn't start until the following morning because as he understood, Carl had to be home by ten. Finally, he sat down and closed his eyes.


He woke up to voices, and stood up on four legs. Where was--? He was going to be assigned! Excitedly, he stared out the clear door, remembering just in time to stay relaxed.

There were people in there. One of them was very young. She was holding a hamster and smiling.

Agent P was a little disappointed. Obviously he wouldn't be assigned to these people. Oh well. He couldn't expect to be assigned straight away.

He noticed that there was some food in the bowl next to him now, so he ate it pensively.

People came and went, and none of them gave him a second look. One young child pointed and yelled "what is that thing?" The kid's dad glanced at Agent P and said "I don't know. How about this one?". He pointed somewhere out of Agent P's view.

The place was run by a woman that Agent P had never seen before. Agent P wondered who she was, and if she knew that the rescue centre was a front. Surely she did. Wasn't Carl supposed to be running it? That's what Carl had said the night before, unless he'd misunderstood.

By the end of the day, Agent P still hadn't been adopted. He tried not to let it upset him. He wasn't the only one.

And then the woman took off her head.

It was Carl, wearing a woman costume. Agent P stared. He'd heard the woman talking. She had sounded very female. He had no idea how Carl had managed that.

"Okay, you can come out now!" said Carl.

Confused, but happy for a chance to stretch his legs, Agent P nudged open the door and walked out.

He stood there until a dog came up to him, growled, did a four legged bow, stood on two legs and adopted a fighting pose.

Agent P smiled. The dog wanted to spar. They'd fought before, and the dog beaten him a few times, but he wouldn't today. Not now that he was a full agent.


The second day was similar to the first. So was the third. Agent P was ignored, and occasionally pointed at. Nobody showed any serious interest. Agent P reminded himself to be patient, and reminded himself again. He'd find a host family. Eventually.

At the end of the third day, the amount of agents still to be assigned was dwindling dangerously. Carl came up and said "Don't worry, Agent P! We'll find a family for you soon!"

Agent P could tell that he was just saying that to make him feel better, but he smiled anyway.


The fourth day started like all the others. Nobody even looked at him, let alone showed any interest.

About an hour in, yet another family entered. Agent P looked them over. There were two adults and three children. One of the children, a girl, looked to be a preteen, and the other two, boys, were about preschool age.

To his surprise, the boys ran over to him. The shorter one said "Ferb! This one's looking at both of us at the same time!"

Agent P chattered. He could barely believe it. Somebody was interested in him. He couldn't make a single mistake.

Even Carl seemed surprised, but Agent P had noticed how quickly he'd come over when the young boys had shown interest.

One of the adults said that they'd take him, and Agent P had trouble not showing the relief on his face. He had a family to... He had a base to operate from.

"What would you even name a platypus?" demanded the girl.

"Bartholomew!" said the boys in unison. The taller boy had a strangely deep voice for such a young child.

Agent P chattered again. Bartholomew? It was an interesting name, he guessed. It had too many syllables in it. It made him sound more complicated than he was. Of course, he didn't have much say in it.

Once they were out of the building and onto the streets, the shorter boy, who was holding him, said "I'm Phineas, and this is my brother Ferb, and my sister Candace!"

Agent P chattered.

"Are you talking to it?" demanded the girl, Candace. "It's a platypus. It can't understand you."

Phineas looked at Candace. Then he looked back at Agent P. "He looks smart to me," he said.

"Let me say something to him," said Candace. She leaned down close to Agent P's carrier. "You're a stupid, smelly lump of... of stupidity and bad smells!"

"Candace!" said the woman that Aegnt P assumed was her mother, sounding shocked.

"What?" said Candace. "He is!"

"I don't know what you're mad about, but there's no reason to take it out on Bartholomew," the mother scolded her.

Agent P didn't particularly care what this girl thought of him. She was just a cover.

They got into a car and drove off. Candace didn't say anything more. Agent P wasn't an expert on children, but it looked like she was sulking.

Phineas kept talking all the way. He told Agent P all about his family, and how glad he'd been when his parents had got married, and how glad Ferb had been as well, because it meant they were brothers now. He told him all about a board game they were working on together, and all the rules they'd come up with for it, and how awesome it was going to be when it was finished. He told him how excited they were about starting school in the fall, and how many friends they were going to make.

Agent P started to feel a bit bad. This little boy was so excited about having a pet, and he'd got an undercover secret agent. He deserved a real pet. But what could Agent P do about it? He needed to live somewhere.

The car pulled up into the driveway of a house. Agent P looked at it with interest. He'd never been in a house before. Phineas carried him out, still talking, and took him inside.

It looked like a nice house. There was a couch that looked soft, and... No, he shouldn't think like that any more. He was a secret agent now. He had to stay serious.

He stood on the floor and chattered, unsure of what was expected of him. Phineas and Ferb stared at him.

"What do you think, Ferb?" said Phineas.

Ferb blinked.

"You're right, I don't think he is a Bartholomew," said Phineas. He looked at Agent P again.

Agent P chattered nervously.

"He's more of a..." said Phineas. "Wolfgang. No, a Perry! That's it! Perry! What do you think, Perry??"

Agent P chattered again. Perry. Well, he liked it better than Bartholemew. Not that it really mattered what name they knew him by.