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Perry the Platypus and Business as Usual

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As soon as the boys left the room, Perry stood and settled his hat firmly on his head. After glancing around quickly to make sure the coast was clear, he lifted the living room rug and slid beneath it into the waiting chute.

He landed in the control room and hopped into his chair just as Major Monogram appeared on the screen. Sideways.

"Good morning, Agent P-- Carl, fix that camera!"

"Yes sir." The picture twisted, and suddenly the Major was upside-down.

"No, no, that's-- oh, never mind. Anyway, Agent P, Dr. Doofenshmirtz is up to something. He's bought up every one of those little sticky memo-pad things in the Tri-State Area. We need you to get to the bottom of this."

Perry saluted and headed out.

"Carl, I'm docking your pay."

"Sorry, sir."

---

Perry sailed through the air with his trusty hang glider, headed for Doofenshmirtz Evil, Inc. One of the windows was open, and he swooped straight through...

...and was immediately caught in a trap. A large, sticky spiderweb on a metal frame had been waiting for him just inside, and Perry was stuck to it, upside down.

"Well that wasn't very smart, was it?" came a voice. "Did you really think I'd just leave a window open for you to fly right through and foil me? You're usually smarter than that." The frame spun around and Perry could see the evil Dr. Doofenshmirtz in his lair, standing next to a bizarre machine with a clunky base, a control panel on the front, and a novelty-sized, gloved hand reaching out of the top.

Suddenly, the hand rose up and slapped Perry on the bill, leaving a little yellow square of paper behind. There appeared to be writing on it. Perry crossed his eyes.

You never wipe your feet before barging into an evil lair. It's happened 178 times -- I counted. I'm very disappointed in you, it read.

Perry looked up at the doctor.

"Yes, Perry the Platypus," Dr. Doofenshmirtz crowed. "Tremble in fear at my... Passive-Aggressive-Note-inator!"

Perry raised an eyebrow.

Doofenshmirtz waved a hand at him. "I know, I know, it's a little long," he said. "I was going to call it the Post-It-inator, but there are trademark problems and, really, it just wasn't a battle I wanted to fight, you know? I think this name has its own charm, I mean it's exactly what it says on the tin, that's refreshing, right?"

Perry had taken the opportunity to struggle against the spiderweb. He had managed to flip himself right-side up and was working to free his last limb from the trap when the evil scientist noticed.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Doofenshmirtz cried, pressing a button on the remote control he was holding. Ropes shot out of the walls and bound Perry tightly and securely. "Really, it's not polite to make your escape before I've even finished describing my evil plot! What kind of manners do they teach you over there at the agency, anyway?" He set the remote down on a convenient table and wandered over to the odd machine.

"Now where was I? Oh yes, my Passive-Aggressive-Note-inator!" He began to fiddle with the controls. "This world is full of people who are too wimpy to face their problems head-on, so they leave snippy little notes for other people to find instead. That's what I've always liked about you, by the way, you're very direct in your conflict resolution." The hand swung around. "This machine will go through the town, slapping these little notes on every door in the Tri-State Area! Imagine, all those people coming home from a hard day at work, only to find a cowardly note berating them! They'll be so frustrated and irritated they'll be grouchy to everyone they meet for the rest of the day, just spreading the misery!"

Perry looked at him expectantly.

Doofenshmirtz frowned. "What? That's it. That's the whole plan."

Perry's brow furrowed.

"Oh, I suppose it doesn't really help me take over anything exactly, if that's what you're wondering. I'm just, you know, I'm not really in the mood today. But it does spread gloom and mild discomfort throughout the Tri-State Area, right? And that's evil enough for me! Now, let me see here…" Doofenshmirtz leaned down to concentrate on the machine's controls.

Perry saw his chance. He jerked his head, jarring his hat loose, and tilted it a bit to let the hat roll down his arm into his hand. With a flick of his wrist, he threw his hat across the room, right into the remote on the table. The ropes retracted, freeing him. Perry charged toward the machine.

"Huh" Doofenshmirtz looked up. "Oh drat, I knew I should have put that remote in a drawer or something. Not so fast, Perry the Platypus!" The evil scientist jerked a lever and the hand swatted at Perry. He rolled out of the way and continued to advance on the machine.

"Oh come on, stay still a moment!" The machine slapped and smacked in a circle around itself after Perry, missing him each time as he skillfully dodged and leaving a trail of yellow paper squares in its wake.

Perry jumped up onto the controls.

"Aha!" Doofenshmirtz crowed. "I've got you now!" The hand came down.

At the last moment, Perry jumped aside, and the giant mechanical hand landed squarely on an innocuous red button near the edge of the console. Immediately, the machine began to buck and shake. And then it turned its assault on Doofenshmirtz.

"Ow!" he shouted as he tried unsuccessfully to get out of the way. "What on earth-- an Attack the Creator button? There's no possible constructive use for that! Have I been sleep-inventing again?" A smack on the face sent Doofenshmirtz tumbling to the floor, and it was all over. The machine whacked him over and over again, covering him in slips of memo paper.

Perry strolled over to the table and retrieved his hat, and then, his work done, grabbed his hang glider and sailed out the window, headed for home. Behind him, he could hear Doofenshmirtz wailing.

"Ouch! Hey, that's a public street and a perfectly legal parking space! Ouch! I didn't know my dirty laundry was bothering anyone, why didn't you just tell me-- ouch! Curse you, Perry the Platypus!"