Chapter Text
Perry
Really, "nemesis" is a blanket term. Yes, some can be pretty dangerous, but only the best recruits get assigned the least threatening nemeses. It sounds counterproductive, but it's to ensure that if the top agents are shipped off to stop a real threat, nothing bad will happen while we're gone.
Which brings me to my current situation.
"Ah, Perry the Platypus," Heinz Doofenshmirtz sneers as he walks up to the yellow cubic trap I'm "stuck" in from the shoulders down. "You cheddar watch your step!"
Heinz's puns are always groan-inducing, but this? I glance pointedly down at the trap. This one would have been easy enough to avoid - A big yellow X on the floor? Really? - but it makes Heinz happy to think he's starting out with the upper hand. If he's caught on to my little ruse by now, he hasn't mentioned it.
"I-I know you're not trapped in a block of cheddar cheese, but come on! You swiss watch your step. It doesn't work!" A grin spreads slowly across his lips. "It seems your plan to thwart me is…full of holes! Ha ha!"
Still not great, but it makes more sense thematically.
Heinz has been keeping one hand behind his back this whole time, and I'd like to know what he's hiding and what it has to do with swiss cheese. Major Monogram informed me that Heinz was spotted buying swiss cheese at the local grocer's. "I know that doesn't sound evil," the major said to me and my skepticism, "but he bought the store's entire supply. So, either he has no concern for his digestive health, or he's got something up his sleeve."
Funnily enough, I was joking with Pinky yesterday that Heinz's next scheme would involve filling in all the holes in swiss cheese. We'd both gotten a chuckle out of that.
"But, that's enough clever wordplay for one scheme," Heinz says. "So, you know how I hate a lot of things? Bellhops, taxi drivers… You remember that song." I do. "But, one thing I never told you I hated- I checked my notes, and this was not part of the song. Something I hate that you don't already know about...is swiss cheese. I-I will admit that I like the flavor of swiss cheese, but-but the concept really pushes my buttons. Look at that!" He gestures to the trap with his free hand and an aggravated expression. "Look at all those holes! It's like we're deliberately being served only part of the cheese. The cheese industry is ripping us off, Perry the Platypus!"
Is he… He's not going to…
"So, I started buying all the swiss cheese in the Tri-State Area so the stores couldn't rip us off when they sell it…but then I realized that I was getting stuck with it. My kitchen is full of the stuff! Do you like swiss cheese, Perry the Platypus? If so, help yourself when you leave. There's plenty," he adds with an eye roll at his own stupidity. "Anyway, after I found places to put all the cheese, I came up with a much better solution."
He finally reveals the object behind his back. It's a handheld ray gun that's pale yellow in color and shaped like a block of cheese with a little laser poking out of one end. He also unironically painted slightly darker spots on it, resembling holes.
With his free hand, he gestures grandly to it and shouts, "Behold! The fill-in-the-hole-inator! With this, I shall fill in the holes of every block of swiss cheese in the entire Tri-State-Area! That way, no one can get ripped off anymore."
I was joking.
Guys. Readers. When I told Pinky that filling in the holes of swiss cheese was Heinz's next scheme…I was joking.
Heinz is too busy rubbing his chin and examining his inator to notice my shock. "Now that I say it out loud, I realize that would be more beneficial than evil."
While he ponders that, I wiggle out of the trap; the hole is pinning my arms to my sides, but it isn't very tight.
"Maybe I could use it to fill in all the potholes on the streets! No. Wait. That would also benefit society. Hm… Well, I'm committed now-"
I cut him off with a punch to the face, knocking him on his back. Then I dive for the inator, but Heinz is closer and has longer arms. He grabs it and rolls to his feet, keeping his eyes on my movements the whole. He aims the inator at me but doesn't fire, only dodges my punches and kicks.
He's watching my movements instead of fighting back. And, there's a sharp intensity in his eyes that isn't normally there when we fight.
Any change in behavior is noteworthy, but this is especially true with evil scientists like Heinz Doofenshmirtz. Especially Heinz Doofenshmirtz. He isn't watching what I do so he can know when to dodge or where to strike.
He's observing me as though I am one of his machines and he's doing a test run of me.
I don't like it. It's out of character, and it makes me want to grind my teeth.
So, I stop playing.
I jump up and spin, slamming my tail into his side. He cries out in pain, the inator goes flying. I use my momentum to propel myself off of Heinz and higher into the air. I slap the inator with my tail, sending it careening into the linoleum floor. I land on my feet and wince internally when the inator shatters and launches a green blast into the air. It shoots past the balcony to parts unknown.
Heinz is laying on his side and lifts his head to look in the direction the blast went. "Well, something just got filled in. I hope someone was at least mildly inconvenienced by it."
I hope it didn't hit an innocent person and fill every orifice on their body. It's a blessing and a curse that I'm better at finding the evil applications of these inators than Heinz is sometimes.
But, there's nothing to be done about it now. Let's just pray that there isn't a news story about someone's orifices sealing shut for seemingly no reason. If there is, I'm going to take it out on Heinz during his next scheme.
Either way, my job is done.
"Hey, hold on, Perry the Platypus!" Heinz calls after me when I start to run to the balcony. I stop and turn around. He climbs to his feet and dusts off his lab coat. "I meant it when I said you could take some cheese with you. U-unless you're lactose-intolerant. But, I know platypuses sweat milk- Well, I know only the female platypuses sweat milk and only when they have babies to feed." He grimaces. "Which…is a weird mental image, you licking your own mother."
I roll my eyes because it's no weirder than a baby Heinz sucking on his mother's nipples. Oof. Now I have a weird mental image.
"But, I figure dairy is probably safe for you. So, could you maybe get rid of some of this for me? Like I said, there's so much of it. Wait until you see my kitchen!"
Anyone else would be leery of their nemesis offering them food. But, Heinz wouldn't try to poison me. Despite his villain persona, the man has a strict moral code. There are a lot of lines he would never cross, and poisoning is one of them. Besides, I'm off the clock now that the scheme has been thwarted. I can be a little more friendly.
Plus, I do like swiss cheese, holes and all. I could stick some in the break room at headquarters and maybe even sneak some into the refrigerator at home. Candace is lactose-intolerant, but Linda is going to be competing in a cheese-based cook-off next week.
I follow Heinz into the kitchen, and I can safely say that I've never so much cheese in one place before. Not counting the boys' Cheesetopia last summer, as I only saw that from the outside on the cameras.
There is swiss cheese on every table and countertop and even a bunch sitting on the floor. I'm certain that if I open the fridge and the cabinets and possibly the freezer, I will find more cheese.
I look up at Heinz in disbelief. He responds with a glare. "What? I told you there was a lot of it."
Yeah, but…seriously?
Heinz scoffs and shoves a plastic shopping bag in my hands. "Just take some, Perry the Judge-ypus."
Okay then.
I leap on to the counter - I refuse to grab it off the floor - and drop a few of the plastic-wrapped blocks into the bag. I spot a few labeled "Dairy-Free" and grab one for Candace.
The entire time, I feel Heinz's eyes on me. He should be rambling about what a "dummkopf" he is for buying all this. Or, pondering another cheese-based scheme just to find a use for it. Or, considering recipe options.
He. Is. Silent.
Heinz Doofenshmirtz doesn't do silence. There was only one time in our entire relationship when he didn't talk while I was here, and it was because he had laryngitis. He was furious that he had to write down his monologue for me, and naturally his scheme that day was to make everyone else unable to speak as well. And, he still tried to curse me on my way out. It sent him into a coughing fit. I stuck around to share ice cream and watch a movie with him to make him feel better.
That incident wasn't a red flag for me because Heinz wasn't silent by choice.
Now? My fur is standing on end.
"Is there a problem?" I ask over my shoulder. He can't understand me, but I can't stand the silence. Not when it comes from the most talkative person I know.
I don't miss the intensity in his gaze. Intensity that he tries to hide the moment I start looking. He waves off my chittering. "Don't mind me, Perry the Platypus. Just-just take your time."
Heinz wouldn't tamper with food or drink but, it might be a good idea to send this cheese to the lab as a precaution.
The bag is only a quarter-full, but I decide that it's enough. I hop back on to the floor and drag the human-sized bag behind me. I tip my hat to Heinz in a cautious thanks.
"You're welcome," he says. "You enjoy your cheese. Even though it's filled with holes and you could have had more of it if you hadn't destroyed my inator- You know, that really was a beneficial inator, wasn't it? Ah, well. You live and you learn."
I allow myself a small relieved breath. Heinz's rambling brings some comfort after the awkwardness in the kitchen, but that scene is going to stick out in my mind. What was that about?
While he's busy acting more like himself, I pull my hovercar key out of my hat and press a button to call Ramona to me. Her sleek white and teal paint gleams in the sunlight as she flies up to the balcony. Poor girl's gonna smell like cheese, though not as much as I do after being in that trap, but I can take care of both of those things once I get this bag to the lab.
I toss the bag into the trunk - sorry, Ramona - and get in the driver's seat. As I'm flying away, Heinz runs up to the balcony, crying out, "Oh, I almost forgot. Curse you, Perry the Platypus!"
Sweet normalcy. Too bad it's off-set by Heinz's strange behavior. He was watching me far too closely for my liking. I'll have to remain on guard.
The test results show that the cheese is harmless, so I leave some in the break room and take the rest home with me. After washing the smell off of Ramona and myself, of course.
Linda doesn't think much of the extra blocks of swiss, simply saying, "Wow. I bought more cheese than I thought!"
I'm sure Candace will be grateful for the dairy-free swiss once she's done sulking about the boys' invention disappearing.
Buford, Isabella, and Baljeet are staying for dinner, and everyone is crammed together at the table once the food is ready. Pinky the Chihuahua is here too. Both of our bowls are filled with our respective pet foods.
Phineas is the first to notice my return, announcing it with the usual, "Oh, there you are, Perry."
"Hey, gang," I say in response as I walk on all-fours to my bowl next to Pinky. He and I are the poster children for "mindless domestic pet." At least as far as our families know.
"I still can't believe it!" Buford whines. "We finally make a bread bowl hot tub, and what happens? Right as we're about to fill it with chili, a random green ray from the sky swoops in and seals the hole on the top! Then it's just a big wad of bread!"
Oh, thank God that ray didn't hit a person! Just the fact that it came that close to hitting one of the kids makes me shudder. Though, Heinz would be happy to know that the stray shot mildly inconvenienced someone.
"I still do not understand why you had to roll it away," Baljeet says. "Could we not have simply cut out a new hole?"
"It's the principle," Buford insists.
I tune out the rest of the conversation when Pinky gives me a curious sniff and asks, "Why do you smell like cheese?"
Damn it. I thought I washed that off. Then again, dogs are famous for their sense of smell. "Funny story about that. You know how I made that joke about Doofenshmirtz filling in the holes in swiss cheese?"
Pinky's eyes widen, and his ears perk up. "He didn't."
"He did." Nothing more needs said.
That's the beauty of the humans not knowing what we're saying. Pinky and I can discuss these things in public without blowing our covers.
Pinky huffs a disbelieving growl. "Aye caramba! That's the third time this happened!" To add insult to injury, he checks examples off on his paw. "First, you joked that he would force you to be his butler if he could; two days later, he brainwashed you into thinking you were his butler. Next, you joked that if he got laryngitis, he would be so pissed about not speaking that he would make it so no one else could speak either. Which he attempted to do a week later. Now the cheese thing!" Pinky eagerly wags his tail. "Make another joke at his expense, Perry!"
I grimace and shrink back a little. "No way! I'm terrified that I'll be right!"
Pinky laughs and digs into his food. I start eating out of my own bowl and let the friendly conversation among the humans drown out my thoughts.
Until Pinky continues our own conversation. "Doofenshmirtz is pretty wacky, isn't he? Poofenplotz is crazy, but at least I can count on all her schemes being centered around her looks or her popularity. Based on what you've told me, Doofenshmirtz sounds like someone you just can't predict." My friend since the Academy doesn't bother fighting his giggles. "I think it's both impressive and hilarious that you can predict his schemes like that!"
I huff and roll my eyes. "I think it just means I'm due for a vacation." Then I recall Heinz's strange behavior today and add, "That being said, Doofenshmirtz surprises me more often than you think. You're right to call him unpredictable."
And, I have a feeling that Heinz is up to something I won't see coming.
Heinz
It all started one week ago.
I was having evil scientist's block, so I did what any struggling evil scientist would do; research my nemesis's species. In this case, the ornithorhynchus anatinus. Also known as the platypus.
I learned some interesting things. Their diet consists mostly of worms, insects, and small crustaceans, which explains why Perry the Platypus always orders shrimp when we go out to eat and it's on the menu. They share DNA with mammals, birds, and reptiles. The babies are called puggles. The females feed their young by sweating milk. They don't have stomachs. They don't have teeth either (yet Perry the Platypus does?). The oldest living platypus on record was twenty-four years old, and the average lifespan of a platypus in the wild is ten to twelve years.
That made me stop researching, wonder how old Perry the Platypus is, and I did not cry!
All very interesting. Some disturbing. One downright depressing. But, there was one fun fact that stood out to me: poisonous ankle barbs.
Now, I already knew about those from an incident with a platypus hunter and lovely platypus I called Steven. (I wonder whatever happened to Steven.) However, it occurred to me that Perry the Platypus never used his ankle barbs in our fights. I'm not complaining. Apparently, the venom is powerful enough to kill small animals and cause excruciating pain in a full-grown human, so I'm definitely not complaining. My best guess was that Perry the Platypus is too nice of a guy to hurt me like that, which I greatly appreciated.
Then I remembered that I've grabbed his ankles more than once when we were fighting and never felt anything pointy or painful there.
Then I read that only the males have ankle barbs.
I was mortified, thinking that I had been misgendering my nemesis all these years. The next time I saw "him," I apologized over and over for thinking "he" was a boy and asking why "he" never corrected me. When I saw how confused he was, I mentioned that I found that only the males had ankle barbs and I'd realized that "he" didn't have any. Perry the Platypus was kind enough - or desperate to not actually be misgendered - that he caught my attention and mimed writing something down. I gave him a pen and notebook so he could explain.
He has lovely penmanship, by the way.
It turns out that Perry the Platypus did have poisonous ankle barbs once. Alas, when he was still in training, he developed some platypus illness called "venom displacement." A very rare and very dangerous illness that causes the platypus's venom to seep into his own body. Perry the Platypus had to have his ankle barbs and venomous glands surgically removed as a result. He was hospitalized for two weeks and had to spend another week recovering. He missed so much training that he had to take remedial courses to catch up with his peers.
I was pretty bitter about it, Perry the Platypus had written, but it ended up being a blessing in disguise. My instructor was phenomenal, and I swear I learned more in those remedial classes than I did in my normal ones!
Two things happened the day he told me about this. First off, Perry the Platypus had told me one of his backstories! He'd never done that before! I was so excited that I didn't even notice he'd escaped my trap!
The second thing was that I realized that even with the research I did, I didn't really know anything about platypuses.
After that - well, after Perry the Platypus thwarted my scheme and I instructed Norm to clean up the resulting mess - I scoured the internet for information. I wasn't merely looking up fun facts this time. No, I was serious. I wanted to know everything. Biology. Natural habitat. Possible diseases (I figured venom displacement wouldn't be an issue anymore, but you never know). If it was platypus-related, I wanted to know about it.
Before I knew it, I was down a rabbit hole - or, dare I say, a platypus burrow - of nature websites and YouTube videos and an adorable plushie or two. Or, seven. Coming in the mail.
Don't judge me.
I learned a lot, but there's still something I don't understand. No matter where I looked, there was no information on how they can switch between quadrupedal and bipedal. Nor, how they can safely eat things like ice cream and chicken breast. Nor, why other platypuses don't have teeth but Perry the Platypus does (unless he has dentures). I also don't know how they can do kick-flips and operate complex machinery when everywhere I turn, so-called experts are saying that platypuses "don't do much."
Bah. Bah, I say!
But, the more I studied, the more I wondered if those so-called experts were on to something. Every video I watched showed platypuses digging holes or swimming or adorably losing their balance and rolling into the water. And, isn't it odd that no one talks about platypuses fighting unless it's to mention the ankle barbs? Platypuses have a shocking amount of predators, so you would think they'd all have fighting skills like Perry the Platypus. I don't expect them to be on his level - they can't all be secret agents - but surely they have a few tactics that don't involve venom! What about the males like Perry the Platypus who lost their venom? Or, the females who start out with poisonous barbs but lose them when they get older (which is totally unfair, by the way)? They have to defend themselves somehow!
Yet, as far as the internet is concerned, platypuses are cute but brainless creatures who just happen to be poisonous or sweat milk, depending on their gender.
It makes no sense.
Yesterday I decided to pay more attention to the way Perry the Platypus moves and acts. But, I must have been too obvious, because his glares and "krkrkrkrkr" sound were oozing suspicion. I need to observe platypuses who aren't Perry the Platypus so I can compare.
That's why I find myself at the Danville Zoo, stationed in front of the platypus habitat. I've been standing here for an hour - my feet hurt, but the nearest bench is too far from the enclosure for me to still get a good look - but so far I haven't seen much. The most interesting thing that happened was the light teal platypus getting stuck under a cardboard box and running around in a panic until the brown platypus knocked the box off of her with his bill.
I know their genders because there's a sign revealing that the teal one is a female named Junie and the brown one is a male named Brutus. There's also a covered up portion of the sign, implying that there was another platypus, but it must have passed away.
Not. Thinking. About. Perry's. Age.
I am so bored. Junie is napping in a shady spot under a tree, but Brutus sits there, looking at me with that vacant, wall-eyed stare that isn't anything like Perry the Platypus's laser-focus.
"I can't take it anymore!" I shout. I point angrily to Brutus since he's the one paying attention. "Why won't you do anything? Don't sit there with your head tilted like you don't know what I'm saying! Do a backflip! Run around on two legs! Do something!"
Brutus stands up on all-fours, spins around, lifts his tail…and takes a dump right in front of me.
My disgust is quickly replaced with annoyance. "Okay, that was just rude! You are rude!"
He walks away, laughing at me. I know he's laughing because his chittering sounds exactly like Perry the Platypus's laughter. Except it's at my expense. Which it sometimes is when Perry the Platypus does it, but that's not the point!
I point angrily again as Brutus joins Junie in the shade. "Don't act all mindless! I know you did that on purpose!"
"Uh…"
I lower my hand and turn my head. There's a woman in a zookeeper uniform standing next to me.
"Can I help you?" she asks cautiously.
"Yes. Yes, you can," I inform. "You can give a stern talking-to to that Brutus fellow in there. He has absolutely no manners! My nemesis is a platypus, and he has the decency to use the toilet!"
The zookeeper makes a face like she wants to be somewhere else, but she remains professional. "These are wild animals. We have no control over what they do. Besides," she gestures with both hands to the habitat, "you're looking at platypuses. They don't do much to begin with."
"'Don't do much.'" I mock. "I am getting so sick of hearing that! You should see my nemesis when he gets going!"
The zookeeper takes a step back. "Sir, unless you have a genuine question about platypuses-"
I wave my hands in front of me, stopping her from leaving. "Wait! Wait! I do have a question." She looks at me expectantly. "Do platypuses have, like, a dormant mode and an attack mode? Is that why these ones aren't doing anything? Are they in dormant mode?"
The zookeeper just stares at me before walking away, saying, "I think you watch too many cartoons."
"But-but-but-"
My stammering is ignored.
Could it be true? Could platypuses really…not do much? Then, what does that say about Perry the Platypus? He does, well, everything! He's like a human being but two feet tall and covered in fur and has a duck bill and a beaver tail and-
Okay, physically he is nothing like a human being, but he's basically the same on the inside! Not biologically, considering the venom and the fact that platypuses don't have stomachs-
The point is that Perry the Platypus is highly skilled and intelligent, and from what I've seen, other platypuses are…not. (With Steven being the exception, though I'm starting to wonder if he is a secret agent as well.)
What makes Perry the Platypus so unique? It can't just be his secret agent training, can it? I've seen and learned enough to know that it can't possibly be that simple. There must be more to it than good teachers. If platypuses aren't naturally suave personifications of unstoppable dynamic fury - or at the very least, capable of literally finding their way out of a cardboard box - then no amount of training could make one as competent as my nemesis.
A casual survey of the enclosure has me asking, "Hey, where's Brutus?" as the platypus in question has disappeared. "Ah, whatever. He's rude anyway." I cup my hands around my mouth and call out to Junie, who is now awake and looking at me with that blank expression, "I hope he's not your husband, Junie, because you could do so much better!"
Behind me, I hear a little boy say, "Mommy, why is that man yelling at the animals?"
"Just ignore him, Billy," his mother replies.
I should probably go before I embarrass myself any worse.
But, I know what I'm gonna do tomorrow. I'm gonna learn what makes Perry the Platypus tick.