Story [Disney] The Adventures of Milo Murphy

Author:Chancellor_Ewok
Current Characters:Milo Murphy, Melissa Chase, Zack Underwood, Cavendish, Dakota, Doofenshmirtz, Perry, Cavenpuss, Scrooge McDuck, Della Duck, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, Launchpad, Gyro Gearloose, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera
Genre:Adventure, sci-fi
Era:Starts within canon
Disclaimer: Obviously, I am playing with Disney’s toys.

Season One
The Duckburg Incident

Episode One

When Milo Murphy came to his senses, he didn’t know for a second where he was. He was sprawled across the deck of the Octalian starship that his friends had taken from Earth after he had been abducted for the second time a few days ago. The large, heavy backpack that he normally carried everywhere was wedged awkwardly beneath him, digging into the small of his back. A pool of sunlight spread across the deck through a crack in the opposite bullhead. Milo’s head was throbbing and there was a large lump on the back of his skull from where his head had hit the deck after he had been knocked over. One eye was swollen shut and he could taste blood in his mouth. He lay still for a moment, assessing and feeling for additional injuries. As far as he could tell, there weren’t any. Milo tried to sit up. Everything swam and he suddenly felt slightly nauseous. He fell back and let his nausea subside.
From somewhere in the corner of his vision, he thought he saw a flicker of motion. Much more slowly, Milo turned his head.A tall man with a very thin frame was slowly getting to his feet. His normally fastidiously neat suit was rumpled and the small spectacles that were normally perched on the end of his long, thin nose were askew. His top hat was missing.
Milo groaned. He swallowed some of the blood in his mouth and said, “Cavendish? What happened?”
Balthazar Cavendish started slightly at the sound of his name, then looked visibly relieved. “Milo,” he said, “thank god, are you all right?” He started to pick his way across the bridge to where Milo still lay spread eagled on the deck. By the time he reached Milo, the 13 year old boy was slowly getting to his feet.
Milo wobbled slightly as he surveyed the scene. Zack, Melissa and Dr. Doofenshmirtz lay limp on the deck. He spied a red and gold tracksuited figure slumped in a corner where he had hit the rear bulkhead. The primary control console had been knocked off of its base, the wind screen was a spiderweb of cracks and the deck plates were buckled. He turned back to Cavendish. “Where are Perry and Cavenpuss?”
“I don’t know, Milo,” said Cavendish. “We should check on the others.”
Milo nodded and moved toward where Zack Underwood lay face down. Milo let his backpack fall to the deck with a dull thud and stiffly knelt down over Zack. He took Zack by one shoulder and gently shook him. “Zack? Can you hear me?” he said, “it’s me, Milo.”
Zack moaned softly and said, “Milo? I think my wrist is broken.”
Milo took Zack both shoulders and sat him up. “Can you stand?” he asked. Zack nodded. Milo looked relieved, “c’mon,” he said, “we need to check on Melissa.” The two boys got to their feet and walked over to Melissa, who was already sitting up. She had a cut over one eye, but otherwise appeared to have come through the crash unscathed. Next to her a teal coloured platypus chittered its teeth in greeting and a very tiny figure with Cavendish’s face and the teal body of its companion nodded at them.
“Its good to see the three of you on your feet,” said Cavenpuss in Cavendish’s clipped English accept.
“Are you and Perry alright?” asked Milo.
Perry chittered again and Cavenpuss nodded. “Yes, we seen to have come through the ordeal unscathed. Thank heavens for small mercies.”
“Where are Cavendish and Dakota and Dr. Doofenshmirtz?” asked Zack.
“Over there,” Milo started to say, but he stopped and look around.”Where’s Diogee?” He had to fight down a moment of panic. He was’t sure he could deal with any of this without his faithful dog. However, as if on cue, a barrel chested dog on with a long nose came trotting out from behind a corner on short legs and wagging its stumpy little tail. Milo sighed in relief and turned to Zack and Melissa. “Do either of you remember what happened?” he asked. He looked around at the wreckage. He tried got search his mind a remember what had happened, but it was all a blur. “Did I do this?”
“Oh, no dear boy,” responded Cavenpuss. He nodded to where Cavendish, and his partner, Vinnie Dakota, were huddled with a lanky looking round shouldered man in a lab coat. “This wasn’t Murphy’s Law,” he said.
“Of course,” Zack interjected with a sigh.
Melissa rolled her eyes. “Who else but Doofenshmirtz.”
They broke off their conversation as Cavendish, Dakota and Doofenshmirtz approached. Dakota had one arm in a sling made from a ragged strip of cloth torn from the hem of Doofenshmirtz’ lab coat.
“You kids OK?” asked Dakota in his gravelly voice.
“I think my wrist is broken,” replied Zack.
“Let me see that,”said Cavendish. Zack held out his injured wrist. Cavendish took it. He probed it gingerly with his long thin fingers. Zack winced. After a minute or two Cavendish let go of Zack’s wrist. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said. “You merely have a very bad sprain.”
“We’re probably all lucky to be alive,” said Dakota, shooting a venomous look at Doofenshmirtz.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” he asked, looking aggrieved. “OK, fine I crashed the ship, you think I did it on purpose or something.”
“Oh, come on,” Zack interrupted, “we could have been killed and we need this ship to get home.”
“Alright,” said Cavendish holding up his hands in a placating gesture, “we are alive and relatively uninjured.”
“No thanks to him,” said Dakota, glaring at Doofenshmirtz.
“Dakota, you’re not helping,” responded Cavendish.
“But what about Milo,” asked Melissa. “Even if we can repair the ship, there’s still Murphy’s Law.”
“You know she has a point, Cavendish,” said Dakota. “You know what we-I mean…..” Dakota trailed off. None of them needed to be reminded of how they had thought that they had found Milo adrift and dying amid the debris of the ships that had brought him to Octalia to disrupt the Sphere of Calamity. There was a minute or two of silence during which nobody looked at anybody else. It was finally Cavenpuss who broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Well, what do I know,” began Cavenpuss slightly sarcastically, “I’m only three days old, but Melissa is quite correct. Milo seems to have an unusually rapid and powerful effect on the Octalians’ technology. It might useful to find a way to counteract Murphy’s Law.”
“Well, OK,” said Dakota, “but how do we do that?”
“What about those kids we ran into when the Pistachions tried to take over the world last year,”said Zack, “you know the ones from the other side of town?”
“Oh yes,” said Cavendish slowly, “those remarkable stepbrothers,” he thought harder, “let me see, what were their names.”
“I think their names were Phineas and Ferb,” said Milo. “I remember them, we helped them build the Murphy’s Law suit.” The Murphy’s Law suit had allowed Phineas and Ferb to channel the negative probability field created by Milo’s body into a tightly focused beam of probability, which had allowed them to defeat the Pistachions.
“Those two kids would be helpful to have around right now,” said Dakota. “Too bad we didn’t think to pick them up before we went looking for Milo.”
“There was no time,” replied Cavendish with a shake of his head.
“It’s OK, Dakota,” said Milo, “as my Dad likes to say, sometimes if you to save an alien planet, you have to break seventeen bones.”
“Back to the question at hand,” said Cavendish, “how do we mitigate Milo’s negative probability field so we can go home?”
“Well,” said Zack thoughtfully, “could we reproduce the effect that Phineas and Ferb had on Milo?”
Everyone turned to look at Doofenshmirtz.
He threw up his hands in exasperation. “What are you all looking at me for?” he said in annoyance. “You crash an alien spaceship one time and nobody every lets you forget it!”
Perry chittered at him.
“Yes, I know I did, Perry the Platypus, but I-“
Perry chittered again.
“Oh fine,” said Doofenshmirtz in annoyance. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he said the others, who had been watching his conversation with Perry.
“Melissa, didn’t you study Murphy’s Law?” asked Zack. “Maybe you could give Dr. D a hand.”
Melissa tried and mostly succeeded to hide a look that said thanks, Zack. Out loud she said, “yeah sure, I never really found a pattern to Murphy’s Law though, so I don’t know how much help I can be.”
Doofenshmirtz gave a lazy wave with one of his large hands. “Well, come on,” he said to Melissa. “We had better get started. We’ll need to scavenge parts from the ship.”
Melissa looked slightly alarmed. “Ummmm……is that a good idea, Dr. D?” she asked.
“Well, if I was in my shed with all of my inators, it would be easier,” he began, “but this is an alien spaceship, I’m sure nobody will notice if a few parts here and there go missing.”
“Well, OK,” replied Melissa slightly doubtfully, “what do we need?”
Doofenshmirtz rattled off a list of parts.
“Ummm, OK,” said Melissa, “I have no idea what any of those are.”
Perry chittered.
“Yes, thank you, Perry the Platypus,” replied Doofenshmirtz.
Melissa looked from Perry to Doofenshmirtz and back again. “What did he say?” she asked
“He knows where to find the parts we need,” responded Doofenshmirtz.
“But how does he know that?” asked Melissa.
Doofenshmirtz waved a hand. “You’d be surprised,” he said. “Perry the Platypus is very resourceful.”
“Well, ummm, OK,” said Melissa, “I guess we have an inator to build. We should get going.” She turned to leave the bridge, with Doofenshmirtz following behind her and Perry bringing up the rear.

As Melissa left with Doofenshmirtz and Perry following behind her, Dakota said, “OK, so let’s say they manage to build a negative probabilityinator, we still need to fix the ship. How are we going to do that?”
“Perhaps the Octalians can help us,” said Zack. “We did help them save their world, after all.”
Cavendish nodded, “an excellent suggestion. Let’s go talk to them.” He turned and made his way toward the gap in the bulkhead where the sunlight spilled across the floor. Dakota and Cavenpuss fell in behind him. Milo lingered for a minute, picking up his heavy backpack where he had dropped it earlier, and shrugged it onto his shoulders. Zack watched him for several seconds.
“Are you, going to be OK, Milo?” asked Zack.
Milo turned to look at him. “Admittedly, the is one of the weirder things that has happened to me, but I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”asked Zack. “They cloned you, and abducted you-“
“Twice,” Milo interjected.
“And, I mean, well, you had us worried for awhile.”
“I appreciate it, Zack, but don’t worry about me.” Milo placed a grateful hand on Zack’s shoulder. “I’ll be OK.”
The two boys followed Cavendish, Dakota and Cavenpuss out of the ship into the light.

The walk from the ship back the the Octalian city only took about an hour. They had not had very much altitude when the crash had happed. Multicoloured figures were coming toward them from the ruined city. No doubt, the Octalians had heard the sound of the crash and were coming to investigate. As they got closer Milo thought he recognized Loab, Khone, Orgaluth and her mother. Loab reached them first. He surveyed the four battered looking humans and Cavenpuss. He was approximately Milo’s height and very thin with aquamarine skin.
“Milo,” he said in surprise, “what happened?”
“Hi Loab, we had an accident with our ship,” replied Milo.
“Murphy’s Law?”asked Loab.
“No,” said Cavendish, in response to Loab’s question.
“Some nutjobber, who shall remain nameless, damaged our primary control console,” continued Dakota. “We were hoping you could help us fix it.”
“Oh, of course,” replied Loab, gesturing with one tentacled arm to a tall magenta coloured Octalian a short distance away, “You should talk to Commander Grunthos.” Together with Loab, Milo, Cavendish, Dakota, Zack and Cavenpuss walked over to Commander Grunthos and Orgaluth. Milo, Cavendish and Dakota took turns in relating what had happened and the condition of their ship.
“Of course, we’ll help you,” she said, “after all you’ve done for us, how could we not.” She turned to Loab and Khone. “Give then whatever help they need.”
Loab saluted with two of his tentacles and said, “yes, Ma’am.”

Loab and Khone went back to the ship with Milo, Cavendish, Dakota, Zack and Cavenpuss. Together the seven of them spent the rest of the day and into the night surveyed the ship and assessing the extent of the damage. It was almost morning by the time they were done. The ship was not as badly damaged as they had feared and repairs went quickly. In the meantime, Melissa, Doofenshmirtz and Perry had dissembled the inators that Doofenshmirtz had brought with him and together with the parts that they had scavenged from the ship, had been able to cobble together an inator that they thought would cancel out Murphy’s Law.
“OK, gather round everyone,” said Doofenshmirtz, “this is the Murphy’s Lawinator, which will cancel out Murphy’s Law!”
“We hope,” said Melissa, “this is our first chance to test it.” She gestured to the strange conglomeration of assorted parts sitting on the console in front of the large bridge window. “Milo, we need your backpack.”
“Sure.” Milo took it off and tossed to her.
Melissa opened it and began taking out the contents, which included a flashlight, a rolling pin, a length of rope, an umbrella and a bowling pin. “This is a pretty simple experiment,” she said as she emptied Milo’s backpack of its contents, “anything that can go wrong around Milo usually does.” She gestured to Doofenshmirtz and the Murphy’s Lawinator. “We figure that as Milo carries his backpack practically everywhere its contents will be heavily saturated with negative probability ions. Any bad things that can happen to them probably will.”
Doofenshmirtz made a few final adjustments to the Murphy’s Lawinator and then turned it on with the snap of a switch. Several green and blue lights glowed on here and there on the Murphy’s Lawinator, but otherwise it was silent. Everyone stared at the assorted items arrayed on the console in front of them, waiting for something to happen.
After what seemed like a long time, Zack said, “Umm, Milo, I don’t suppose you can try make something happen?”
Milo shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry, Zack. Murphy’s Law doesn’t really work that way.”
“Well, we’ve been standing here for nearly twenty minutes,” said Dakota. “I think if something were going to happen, it would have happened already.”
Cavendish nodded. “I am inclined to agree,” he said. “The Octalians have almost finished the repairs and are going to run a few final checks. We can depart in the morning.”

 

The city of Duckburg lay on a bend in the Drake River between Bear Mountain and Mallard Bay. Scrooge McDuck sat on the large terrace behind McDuck Manor, enjoying the early morning sunshine, along with the view and a cup of nutmeg tea. In the middle of the bay, at the end of a long stone pier, the gilt finial of the Money Bin glinted in the morning sun. On the far side of the bay, he could clearly make of the shapes of skyline of New Quackmore, in the early morning haze. Farther along the coast, the skyscrapers of St. Canard were only barely visible. Scrooge took his eyes off the view from the top of Bear Mountain and turned to the leather folder next to the bone china tea pot emblazoned with a gold dollar sign. He opened the file folder, took out the papers inside and scanned them quickly. They were mostly the mundane details of running a large corporation. A mining operation in Wronguay. The construction of a new factory in Cape Suzette. Stock price updates. An update on the repairs to Von Drake Seed Vault. Same old, same old, he thought. He continued scanning through the various reports and projections until one in particular caught his eye. Ah, he thought. The heading at the top of the page read:

Project#843-257-971

Inter-dimensional Quantum Mirror

Dr. Gyro Gearloose

What have you cooked up now, Gyro, thought Scrooge eagerly. He began to read the file more intently. It was full of technical jargon, physics equations and and exploded engineering diagrams. A stable inter-dimensional gateway, thought Scrooge eagerly, very impressive. Scrooge’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him on the terrace. He turned to see his maid, cook and confidant, Mrs. Beakley approaching.
“Good morning, sir,” she said. “I have your schedule for today.”
“Oh, yes about that,” said Scrooge, “please cancel my morning appointments, and have Launchpad bring the car around to the main entrance, oh, and have Della and the kids meet me in the front hall in ten minutes, I’ve decided to go down to the Bin. Gyro has a new project that he wants to show me, and I thought I’d take Della and the kids.”
“Very good, sir,” said Mrs. Beakley. She picked up Scrooge’s breakfast tray and disappeared back into the mansion.

Ten minutes later, Scrooge stood in McDuck Manor’s vast entrance hall. Sunlight fell on through leaded windows onto gleaming suits of armour. Portraits of past patriarchs and matriarchs of Clan McDuck hung on the oak and mahogany panelled walls. The footsteps of his niece, Della Duck, and her three sons, Huey, Dewey and Louie, along with Mrs. Beakley’s grand daughter, Webbigail Vanderquack, echoed off of the black and white checked marble floor.
“Ah, good,” said Scrooge excitedly,“you’ve all arrived. I’ve got a special treat for you today. Gyro has new project he wants to show us.”
“Ooooh!” said Huey excitedly. “I wonder what it is.”
“A new Gizmoduck suit?” speculated Dewey.
“A time machine?” wondered Webby.
Louie said nothing. He could always be counted on to feign disinterest.
“Actually, you’re all wrong,”said Scrooge, “Gyro has built an inter-dimensional quantum mirror.”
“Whoa! Cool!” said Huey, in amazement. “Gyro cracked inter-dimensional space folding? How did he do that?” Huey pulled a battered and well thumbed book out from under his red baseball hat and quickly rifled through it. “According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook it would take the energy of a neutron star to hold open an inter-dimensional wormhole.”
Scrooge merely smiled at his three nephews. “I‘m sure Gyro will be happy to answer all your questions.” He pulled a gold pocket watch out of his red and black frock coat. He glanced out of the leaded windows on either side of the double front doors in time to see the limousine tooling around the large circular front drive. A tall, barrel chested figure in a battered flight jacket, boots and a baseball hat got of the driver’s side door. He walked around to the rear passenger side door and opened it, then covered the distance from the car to the front door in three or for long strides. “That’ll be Launchpad with the car.”
No sooner than Scrooge had spoken, than the front door was yanked open and Launchpad McQuack stood framed into the opening. “Good morning, Mr. McD!”
“Morning, Launchpad,” said Scrooge genially.
“Hi kids,” said Launchpad garrulously to Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby. The kids gave him an enthusiastic wave in return. For the last decade Launchpad had served has Scrooge’s driver and personal pilot. Launchpad was the only person that Scrooge knew who was as crazy and dangerous as he was. Launchpad stuck out a friendly hand and said, “Morning Della.”
Della gave Launchpad a cool and reserved, “Hello, McQuack.” Della had disappeared a decade earlier, shortly before the birth of her three sons. In the intervening ten years she had been stranded on the Moon. Della had missed a lot and was still trying to figure out where she fit in Scrooge’s unorthodox family. Returning only to find that Launchpad had replaced her as Scrooge’s pilot hadn’t helped. Scrooge, Della and the kids piled into the back of the limo. Launchpad shut the passengers’ side door and walked back around to the driver’s side door. He sat down behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life and Launchpad put a big, booted foot down on the accelerator. The limo tooled down the long winding driveway that led up McDuck Manor and through the elaborate wrought iron gates.

The drive down from McDuck Manor through downtown Duckburg to the Money Bin only took half an hour. At this early hour, there were very few car on the road and Launchpad was able to negotiate through the light morning traffic with ease. The limo turned off the highway which ran along the waterfront and onto the long stone pier which stretched like a long finger into Mallard Bay. Ships of various sizes rode at anchor far out in the harbour. The Money Bin loomed large in the near distance., casting a long square shadow over the pier that connected the rocky island on which it was built to the mainland.
The limo pulled into the yawning garage at the base of the Money Bin and rolled to a stop in front of Scrooge’s private elevator. Launchpad parked the limo, turned off the engine, got out and walked around to the rear passenger side door. He opened it and Scrooge, Della, Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby piled out. The seven of them walked from the car to Scrooge’s private elevator. On most days, Scrooge and the kids would have gone up to his office, which occupied most of the top floor of the Money Bin. Scrooge’s inner sanctum consisted of his private study which contained his desk, a display case containing his Number One Dime, a stock ticker and a vault door ten feet in diameter and four feet thick which allowed access by way of a diving board to the cavernous space that contained the majority of Scrooge’s considerable fortune and made up the majority of the Bin’s internal volume. Various doors led from Scrooge’s study to a waiting room which was accessed from a different elevator, a private dining room and attached kitchen, a bedroom and an attached bathroom, as well as a large conference room and a secure archive which could only be accessed by himself and Miss Quackfaster, his personal archivist. On the floor below, which was accessible from a spiral staircase concealed behind a false bookcase in Scrooge’s study, were the heart of the Bin’s formidable security system, secure storage for the more valuable or dangerous artifacts that Scrooge had collected in his travels, a worry room, in which he would often pace and think out problems, and a fully stocked armoury, should the Money Bin need to be actively defended.
Today, however, was different and as the seven of them entered Scrooge’s private elevator, he pushed the button, not for the top floor and his private study, but the bottom most level of the Money Bin’s basement. The Money Bin’s basement was eight levels deep and consisted mostly of storage rooms for the Bin’s more mundane needs and filing cabinets which contained the records of McDuck Enterprises’ various business activities. The elevator stopped with a gentle bump on the bottom most level of the Money Bin’s basement and the doors parted with a soft chime. Scrooge, Della, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby and Launchpad stepped out of the elevator into a spotlessly clean corridor. It was lit with utilitarian fluorescent lighting fixtures spaced at regular intervals on the ceiling. The concrete walls were unadorned and painted hospital white. The floor was covered with drab looking linoleum tiles. They walked from the elevator to the far end of the corridor and came to a stop in front of the security door that marked the entrance to Gyro’s laboratory, which took up most of the Bin’s deepest sub level. Scrooge place his hand on the biometric scanner next to the door. They heard a loud beep as the Bin’s security system read his palm, and a flat electronic voice said, “McDuck, Scrooge, access granted.” The corridor echoed with the sound of electronic tumblers sliding back into some hidden recess and the security door opened. The seven of them stepped inside and the door automatically swung shut again. They could clearly hear the electronic tumblers slide back into place.

Gyro Gearloose’s laboratory consisted of a well equipped workshop where the eccentric scientist did most of his fabrication and assembly, a design studio, secondary lab for basic experiments and a library filled technical manuals and a wide variety of academic journals on a wide variety of subjects. As with Scrooge’s inner sanctum on the top floor, Gyro’s laboratory was his personal fiefdom and contained a kitchen with an eating area and a bedroom with an attached office and bathroom. He also suffered few trespassers gladly and fools not at all.
At the sound of the security door opening and closing, a head appeared through an open door, beyond which a large electron microscope and a mass spectrometer were partially visible. Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera stepped out into the corridor. “Mr. McDuck,” he said, “what an unexpected surprise. Nobody told us you were coming.”
Scrooge shook Fenton’s hand in friendly greeting. “Yes, I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced like this, I know that Gyro doesn’t like surprise visitors,” or visitors at all really, thought Scrooge, “but I read Gyro’s report and-“
“Oh,” Fenton interjected excitedly, “so you’re here to see the quantum mirror, actually that was my idea.”
“Was it, now,”said Scrooge, clearly impressed, “well, it seems that you and Gyro are both to be congratulated. A stable doorway to another dimension is no small accomplishment.”
“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the mirror,” said Fenton eagerly. He turned, and the others followed him down the corridor. They eventually stopped in front of a hermetically sealed clean room. Fenton took several clean white smocks off of the hooks by the door and began handing them out to Scrooge, Della, Launchpad and the kids. “You’ll need to put these on before we go inside.” Fenton began pulling on his smock. “The mirror’s components are built to the smallest possible tolerances that we can measure. The slightest speck of dust could affect the functioning of the mirror.” After Scrooge, Della, Launchpad and the kids had finished pulling on their smocks, Fenton placed his hand on the biometric palm scanner next to the door. The scanning plate glowed blue and beeped. The same flat electronic voice said, “Crackshell-Cabrera, Fenton, access granted.” The outer door opened with an almost silent swish. They stepped into the chamber within. Fenton pushed a button on a panel next to the inner door and the outer door closed. He pushed a second button and they felt a blast cool air, then heard gentle sucking noise as the air in the room was recycled. The inner door swished open.
The interior of the clean room was absolutely spotless. The walls, floor and ceiling shone immaculately under the bright overhead lights. As Scrooge, Della, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby and Launchpad followed Fenton into the room they all squinted momentarily as their eyes adjusted to the bright light reflecting off of the walls and floor. Several work carts bearing tools, diagnostic equipment and computers were scattered around the perimeter of the room. In the centre of the room stood a pair of vertical black rectangles. They were six feet tall, three feet wide and placed four feet apart from each other. They stood a foot off the floor on a raised circular platform. A thick power cable snaked from the platform to appeared to be some kind of generator standing in a corner. It hummed quietly and green and blue lights blinked in sequence on its face. A thin figure stood with his back to them muttering and inputting data into a tablet. At the quiet click of Scrooge’s cane on the concrete floor, the figure turned in annoyance and began to say, “I don’t know who you are and you got in here-“
“Good morning, Gyro,”said Scrooge calmly.
Gyro Gearloose gave Scrooge his full attention.“Good morning,” he said. “I see you read my report.”
“Of course, I read it,” replied Scrooge. “I read everything that relates to McDuck Enterprises. This is truly a remarkable accomplishment. You and Fenton have my most heartfelt congratulations on your achievement.”
“Yes, well, Fenton may have helped a little,” said Gyro. He cast a suspicious eye over Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby. “The little people can stay, but they can’t touch anything.” Louie was poking around some cryogenic coolant tanks in a corner. Dewey and Webby were looking at the generator in the opposite corner. Huey was examining the mirror itself. He pulled the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook out from under his baseball hat and began flipping through it again.
“Ummm…..Dr. Gearloose,” he began hesitantly, “I have some questions about the mirror, according the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, a stable wormhole requires the energy of a neutron star to hold open the-“
Gyro didn’t let Huey finish his question. “The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook was written by small-minded people who have no idea what they are talking about. The mirror utilizes negative matter to stabilize the event horizon.”
Huey’s eyes widened. “You figured out negative matter,” he spluttered in amazement. “But how did you do that. Negative matter violates the laws of physics as we know them.”
Gyro sighed in annoyance. “Alright, I’ll just show you shall I?” He turned back to the tablet in his hand and swiped aside the calculations that he had been working on. He tapped open a different app and his fingers began dancing over the computer screen. As soon as he began inputting commands into the tablet, the overhead lights flicked from white to a deep electric blue and klaaxons blared loudly. Dewey, Louie and Webby stopped what they had been doing and looked around.
“What ever it is, I didn’t touch anything,” said Louie.
“What’s happening to the mirror?” asked Webby. She pointed at the centre of the room. In the deep blue haze that had descended over the room, the tendrils of energy writhing between the two black rectangles seemed extra bright. A rod telescoped upward from the platform bearing a pair of curved panels. It began to rotate, slowly and first, then faster and faster until it was a spinning blur. It pulled the writhing tendrils of energy toward wrapping them around itself. A needle thin beam of energy shot down from the ceiling. There was a loud noise like a thunderclap. A bright flash of white light caused everyone to shield their eyes. When the noise and light faded away, they were met with an impossible sight. It was as if they were looking through a window at two boys in a suburban backyard sitting under a tree, on a bright sunny, summer day.

 

Glad you liked it. I don’t exactly know what branch of fandom you would put this under, as I am attempting to mash up Milo Murphy’s Law, Ducktales, Big Hero 6 and Phineas and Ferb.

 

Either of those would be fine. I don’t have a particular end goal in mind, but I’ve had some general ideas, like Big Hero 6 and Gizmoduck swapping cities, or Glomgold tries to Milo’s negative probability field to ruin Scrooge or Cavendish and Dakota running time agent missions in Duckburg and Phineas and Ferb building cool tech for everybody else. I’ve also been toying with taking a leaf from the Harry Potter books and letting the characters age over time, as Milo, Zack, Melissa, Phineas, Ferb, Hiro, Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby are all between the ages nine and 14.

 

Episode Two

Hiro Hamada, Wasabi, Go Go Tomago, Honey Lemon and Fred Fredrickson III sat around their usual table at The Lucky Cat. Hiro’s personal healthcare companion, Baymax towered silently over them, observing their conversation. The morning sunlight fell through large front windows onto the interior of the little café, which was owned by Hiro’s aunt, casting the other diners in bright squares of morning light. The six of them had been on night patrol for the last three nights looking for any looking for any signs of Negaglobby and keeping an eye on Sycorax.
“Well, maybe there isn’t a connection between High Voltage, Negaglobby and Sycorax, after all,” said Hiro after swallowing a sip of his pandachino.
“But, who else could it be, Hiro,” asked Honey Lemon
Go Go nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we saw what happened to High Voltage. You’d need a pretty sophisticated set up to do.”
“And why would you do that,” put in Wasabi.
“All very good questions,” replied Hiro, “and the only way we’re going to get answers is if we find whoever is behind these attacks.”
“Or maybe,” Fred interjected excitedly, “this is like Captain Fancy #248, The Revenge of Vegetrons, in which Captain Fancy must foil the Vegetrons’ evil plot to replace everyone with plant people!”
Go Go signed and said , “Oh for the love of-plant people? C’mon Fred.”
Hiro interjected. “No, actually Fred might be on to something.”
“Of course,” said Honey Lemon, “a copy cat.”
“Well, OK,” said Wasabi, pensively, “but how, and why?”
Hiro frowned for a moment, thinking, then said, “Baymax, scan for anything unusual.”
Baymax blinked at Hiro. “‘Anything unusual’ is too broad for my programming to comprehend,” said the tall, white robot. “Please state your request more precisely.”
Hiro frowned again, pondering how to restate his command. “Baymax, scan for energy sources that deviate from accepted norms.”
Baymax blinked again. “Scanning,” he said calmly. Baymax was silent for a moment or two, then intoned, “scan complete. I detect no anomalous energy signatures.”
They all sighed. “Looks like we’re back on night patrol,” said Hiro.

The city of San Fransokyo blazed with neon coloured light. Signs and skyscrapers glowed green and purple and electric blue. The wind turbines floating above the city winked with red and green marker lights. In an abandoned warehouse along the waterfront, however, also of this went unseen. The space was mostly in darkness and was lit only by a few floodlights in the centre of the room and the glow of computer screens. A tall figure stood in the harsh glare cast by the flood lights. He was tall, and thin almost to the point of being emaciated. A thin purple scar snaked its way up his gaunt and angular face. Where his left eye had once been, the optical sensor of a bionic implant gleamed in the semi-darkness. microservos whined softly with his slightest movements. The man formerly known as Obake stood in front of a bank of computer screens displaying an endless stream of calculations and projections. His hands moved over the keyboard, imputing data. The endless stream of numbers and graphs shift in accordance with his new data. The man who had on hand once been called Obake had been born as Robert Aken. In his youth he had been a brilliant student, and a bright and promising future had seemed to stretch before him, but a lab accident had almost cost him his life. He had recovered, but ever since he had been….different. The accident that had left him with the pulsating purple scar had also altered the physical structure of his brain. He had been offered treatment for his injury and had declined. He had felt as if shackles had been lifted from his mind. Free. Liberated. He had decided drop out of school in order to pursue his research unfettered by the petty concerns those people who had formerly been his friends. It was this path that had led him to the Energy Amplifier. The Energy Amplifier would have changed everything.He would have been respected. Adored. Loved.But the boy named Hiro Hamada had gotten in the way. At first, the man who had once called himself Obake, had been curious about Hiro and his friends and had sought to test them. He had been initially impressed with Hiro’s leadership and by their resourcefulness and collective intelligence, however, the boy and his friends had become a nuisance and he had been forced to eliminate them, however, they had outwitted him yet again and directed uncontrolled build up of energy released by the Energy Amplifier away from the city. He had woken up in the hospital afterward with no memories of his life prior to the explosion. He remembered the name Hiro Hamada as well. How did he remember that name, he wondered? He didn’t know. He continued to enter calculations into the computer. The endless stream of equations shifted again and the program chimed softly. He smiled thinly and brought up a set of engineering diagrams on the monitors in front of him. He studied them for what seemed like a long time, then he turned to the piled assemblage of parts in the gloom beyond the pool of light cast by the floodlights that illuminated his workspace. He walked over to the pile of parts and pick up one of two six foot tall rectangular carbon fibre panels he examined it with a critical eye. Yes, he thought, satisfied, it will work Soon they would remember him.

 

His reputation precedes him.

Love Scroogey!

Oh right, I'm slowly recalling the dynamics of the show ... good to see them again.

Ahah, now I need to catch Big Hero 6. Work is crazy ATM, but I shall try.

Glad to see this here with all the great stuff that can come from cartoony action and characterization! Welcome.

 

Big Hero 6 is a really awesome show, hence they got included. I decided to include Obake as a possible villain because it occurred to me that he’d be very, very interested in Milo, and as he’s a psychopath, Milo definitely wouldn’t want to encounter him.

Plus Baymax makes everything better.

 

Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher sat in the shade of a tall tree in their suburban backyard in Danville on a sunny afternoon. Phineas sighed morosely. He was ordinarily an optimistic and outgoing boy, but the disappearance of his beloved pet platypus had saddened him deeply. It had been several days since Perry had disappeared and there been no sign of him. Phineas had known Perry to seemingly vanish on more than one occasion before, but he always turned up eventually. Phineas wondered, for what seemed like the hundredth time, where Perry might have gone. “I hope Perry is OK,” he said out loud to no one in particular. They had systematically searched Danville to no avail.
“Well,” said Ferb hesitantly, as though he were about to say something sacrilegious, “he was just a platypus. He didn’t do very much.”
Phineas said nothing at this uncharacteristic comment from his stepbrother. Ordinarily, Ferb barely said two words a day. The two boys were rarely separated from each other and could read each other’s thoughts and moods without having saying so much as a word to each other. They were so attuned to what the other was thinking and feeling that to outsiders it often seemed as if Phineas and Ferb were two halves of the same person.
A girl with a round face and shoulder length black hair poked her head through Phineas and Ferb’s backyard gate. “Hi, Phineas,” she said, “what are you do-“ She stopped talking upon seeing the two boys sitting under the tree and looking morose.
“Oh, hi, Isabella,” said Phineas glumly. “We’re waiting for Perry to come home.”
“You mean, he still hasn’t come yet?” she asked.
“No,” replied Phineas. “Its been almost a week. I hope he’s OK, where ever he is.”
Poor Phineas, thought Isabella. He looks so lost without Perry.Isabella had always had had a soft spot for Phineas and didn’t like to see him upset. She walked into the backyard and sat down in the shade of the tree so that Phineas sandwiched between Isabella and Ferb. She took his hand in hers. Phineas looked surprised.
“Isabella, I-“ he began to say. She had never held his hand and he didn’t know how to react to her gesture.
“It’s OK, Phineas,” she said. “You don’t need to say anything.”
He gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Isabella,” he said. It was the first time he had smiled in several days. “I really appreciate it.”

The flight from Octalia back to Earth had only taken a week, but to Milo it seemed like several lifetimes. There had been no way to calibrate the Murphy’s Lawinator that had been built by Melissa and Doofenshmirtz. As a result, there had been no way to anticipate any unexpected side effects that using the Murphy’s Lawinator might have. The longer the Murphy’s Lawinator had been on, the more it had effected Milo. The effects of the Murphy’s Lawinator had on Milo had begun to manifest on the first full day after they had left Octalia. The initial effect had been minor. Milo’s pinky finger on his left hand had gone slightly numb, but he had eventually started to experience headaches, dizzy spells, muscle cramps and joint pain. He could feel all of the places where the Octalians had healed his broken bones and it made walking difficult. They had discussed turning off the Murphy’s Lawinator, at least temporarily, but had decided against it. In an attempt to minimize his discomfort, Zack and Melissa had scavenged the ship and rigged up a makeshift hammock for Milo to lie in. It hadn’t really helped, but Milo appreciated their efforts all the same. Earth loomed large in the window. With some difficulty, Milo extracted himself from his hammock. He got up and walked rather unsteadily to the window. The planet filled most of the window and Milo could see from pole to pole in a single glance. They were crossing the terminator from night into day. The transition for darkness to light was drawn across the planet as if with a ruler and happens with the suddenness of flipping on a light switch. Puffy white clouds dotted the oceans and islands were scattered here and there like crumbs of land. Milo momentarily forgot his aches and pains at the sight in front of him. Then a wave of dizziness hit him and he slumped against the control console.
Zack took hold of Milo’s shoulders and steadied him before he could fall. “Are you feeling OK, Milo?” he asked. Zack had to work to keep his concern out of his voice. Milo had been through a lot and it was starting show.
Milo took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Zack shook his head. “No you won’t,” he said. He steered Milo back to his hammock and gently pushed him down into it. “We’ll be home soon, but you should stay off your feet for now.”
As soon as he said this, the view out of the window suddenly slanted sharply to the left and Zack and Milo heard the pitch of the background hum change slightly. The two boys felt themselves settle slightly as though a weight had been settled on to their shoulders. In the distance, the horizon began to rise up toward the top of the window then disappeared. As they sank lower into the atmosphere, tendrils of ionized gas played across the windscreen as the outer hull began to heat up due to the friction of re-entry.
They burst out of a low cloud bank on the outskirts of Danville and arced into a wide circle. The ship settled to a stop and hovered in mid-air before lowering gently to the ground. They stepped outside. After being cooped on an alien starship for a week and on Octalia before that, it felt good to see green grass and feel the breeze on their faces again.

By the time Zack and Melissa walked Milo home, Milo was practically dead on his feet. He had been waylaid by the vagaries of Murphy’s Law for a day or two on several previous occasions, but he had never been gone for this long before. His older sister, Sara, practically flew at him, shouting, “Milo! Think god, are you all right? Where did you go?”
Milo winced a little as she threw her arms around him. At the same time he heard the usual clatter of various small objects falling to the floor as a result of Murphy’s Law. “I’m OK,” he said. “I’m just kind of tired.” He extricated himself from her embrace and head up stairs. He didn’t remember anything after the knob to his bedroom door coming off in his hand.

 

Poor Milo *and I bet he hears these words a lot* and his trials just to lead a mostly normal life.

I was delighted to see that Ming-Na Wen and Brett Dalton are featured in the Milo series, being fans of theirs from Marvel's Agents of SHIELD.

Nice imagery.

 

Thanks, and yeah, poor Milo. I think he’s had to learn to be kind of a tough kid, since he walks around in the middle of a hurricane of chaos.

 

Episode Three

Milo slept for an entire day. When he next woke up, it was mid-afternoon. He had fallen asleep in his clothes. When he got out of bed he found that a day of sleep had done him a world of good. He felt some residual stiffness, but most of the aches and pains that had been brought on by exposure the Murphy’s Lawinator had mostly dissipated. He got out bed and pulled his housecoat from the back of the bedroom door. The coat hook fell from the back of the door and landed on the carpet with a dull thud. He bent over, picked it up and put it on the small bookcase next to his bedroom door. The bookcase collapse. For a moment, Milo, debated stopping and putting back together, but decided he would do it later. He stumped down the hall to the bathroom, open the door and went inside. Milo shut the door, locked it and proceeded to start pulling off his clothes. Soon he was completely undressed. He left his sweater vest, golf-shirt, underwear, socks and shoes in a pile by the door. Milo turned to look at himself in the bathroom mirror over the sink. He was round shouldered. His knees and elbows were scarred from all the times he had fallen on to concrete or asphalt due to some unexpected occurrence of Murphy’s Law.Years of dodging Murphy’s Law had left Milo’s thin frame fit, if not exactly muscular. Faded bruises from his experiences on Octalia had left his chest and back a fade patchwork of purple and yellow blotches. Milo turned away from his reflection in the bathroom mirror, which promptly shattered and stepped past the toilet toward the shower. He pushed aside the shower curtain, reached into the shower and turned on the water. It came gushing out of the faucet and splashed over Milo’s feet. He turned the temperature up, almost as hot as he could stand it, and pulled the stopper. The water coming out of the faucet slowed to a thin trickle. There was a loud gurgling noise from behind the bathroom wall and a second later hot water came blasting out of the shower head. Milo felt the piping hot water hitting his body, running through his hair and down his chest and back. He stood under the hot water, letting it seep into his pores, The hot water felt good Milo’s various contusions. He stood under the torrent for what seemed like a long time, letting the bathroom fill with steam. Eventually, the water began to turn cold. Milo turned off the water and got out of the shower. He towelled himself dry and pulled on his housecoat. He turned to the bathroom mirror to pull a comb through his wet and tousled hair, then remembered that mirror had broken. Milo stepped carefully across the broken glass. He opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hall. He walked back down the hall to his bedroom, accompanied by the clatter of pictures falling off the wall. Milo pushed open his bedroom door, stepped inside and shut it. He turned to the mirror on the back of his closet door and ran a comb through his wet hair. He then pulled open the closet door, which came off in his hand. He set it aside and began rummage through his closet, pulling out a sweater vest, a golf shirt and a pair of shorts. Milo then opened a drawer and pulled socks and underwear. As he pulled on his clothes, Milo’s stomach rumbled and he suddenly realized that he was very hungry. He went out into the hall and began to make his way downstairs to the kitchen.

As soon as he reached to top of the stairs, Milo put his foot through the top stair. He pulled his foot out and proceeded downstairs into the kitchen. When he got to the bottom of the stairs he found Zack, Melissa, Amanda and his older sister, Sara sitting around the kitchen table, along with his parents.
“Afternoon, Milo,” said his father. ”It’s good to see you up and around.”
“Oh, hi Dad,” said Milo.
“Milo,” said Amanda, “everyone’s been so worried about you.” For a second, Amanda looked as though she wanted to throw herself at Milo, the way Sara had. Then the moment passed and she got up, walked around the table and gave him a hug. Milo hugged her back, and as he did, suddenly realized that he had missed her, “It’s good to have you back safely,” she said. And then she kissed him. Milo blushed.
For a second, Milo didn’t respond, then his brain seemed to click into gear and he stammered, “I-uhhh-thanks, Amanda. It’s good to be back.” Milo’s stomach rumbled loudly again, and he remembered why he had come downstairs. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. The door handle came off in Milo’s hands. He laid the door handle aside, opened the refrigerator door and proceeded to start rummaging through its contents, pulling out bread, ham, Swiss cheese, lettuce and a tomato. He assembled his sandwich and sat down at the table with everyone else. Milo took a big bite. He was famished.
“So, Milo,” began Melissa, “how are you feeling?”
“Yeah, we were worried about you,” said Zack, “You went through a lot.”
Milo’s father nodded his head at Zack, Melissa and Amanda. “They showed up first thing this morning-“
“And said they wouldn’t leave until they made sure you were all right,” finished Sara.
Milo looked from his family to his friends. He didn’t know what to say to that, expect to stammer, “I-ummm-thanks guys.” He looked at Zack and Melissa. “What about the two you?” he asked, “Weren’t your parents worried?”
“Of course,” replied Melissa, “my dad’s a firefighter, remember?”
“Both of our parents called the police,” continued Zack, “but when they told the police that the last person we had been seen with was you, the police just said that we’d all turn up eventually.”
Milo’s father chuckled. “Yeah, the police know all about Murphy’s Law. Someday Milo will have to tell you all about the penguin incident.”
Milo suddenly looked a little embarrassed. “Dad, I though we agreed to never speak of the penguin incident again,” he said.
“Oh, sorry Milo, I forgot.”
“Where did the three of you go?” asked Amanda, “you disappeared for almost a week.”
Now it was Milo’s turn to chuckle. “Oh, yeah, this was a weird one, even for me,” he said. Over the course of the next half hour Milo, Zack and Melissa took it turns to tell Amanda, Sara and Milo’s parents the whole story of their various encounters with the Octalians going all the way back to when they had stolen a sample of Milo’s DNA when he had been very, very sick and tried to replace him with a robot. “A shoddy robot,” Milo had interjected around bites of his sandwich.“Is it really too much to ask that the mysterious aliens replace me with a robot that actually works properly?”
Zack laughed. “Yeah, when it called us losers, that was kind of a give away that something was up.”
“So, how were you able to get home with Murphy’s Law?” asked Amanda.
“That was all thanks to Melissa and Doof,” replied Milo.
“Well, more Doof than me,” said Melissa, feeling slightly guilty. “We were able to cobble together a Murphy’s Lawinator-“
Amanda looked confused. “A-I’m sorry, Melissa, what is a Murphy’s Lawinator?”
“It was something that we built to cancel out Murphy’s Law,” replied Melissa. “Dr. Doofenshmirtz is actually pretty good at coming up with these weirdly specific gadgets.”
Zack shot Milo an apologetic look. “The only problem is that most of them don’t work very well.”
“Yeah,” agreed Melissa, “and this one was no exception.”
Sara looked at her brother. “What did it do?” she asked.
“It canceled out Milo’s negative probability field,” responded Zack.
Milo’s father looked delighted. “You mean you three figured how to-“
Milo cut his father off. “Not exactly, Dad,” he said.
Melissa nodded in agreement, “Yeah like I said, Mr. Murphy, it worked, but not very well.” She paused. “There were side effects.”
“What sort of side effects?” asked Milo’s father.
Milo waved a hand airily. “Oh, you know, just the usual side effects of every strange device built by a former mad scientist, numbness, headaches, fatigue, joint pain, but I feel much better now.”
“Oh,” said Sara, “no wonder you looked so ragged yesterday.”
Milo’s father put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’re just glad to have you back safely.”
“Thanks Dad,” said Milo.

 

Okay, now I'm curious about the penguin incident. *points to avatar*

Side effects sound nearly as awful as the original malady; he sounds equable about them all, though.

 

I made that up on the spur of the moment. Unlike the llama incident, Milo doesn’t really like to talk about that one. As for the side effects of the Murphy’s Lawinator, I’m picking up exactly where season 2 stopped and the show in on hiatus for the next year while the animators work on a new Phineas and Ferb movie, so I needed a way to get everybody back to Earth without Milo accidentally killing everybody, but I didn’t want him to simply turn it on and leave it on either, so I needed to subject him to some non-fatal but unpleasant side effects in order to explain why he wouldn’t be interested using it again. I think he was actually very touched that Zack, Melissa and Amanda were actually that concerned about him, especially Amanda, as he doesn’t really know how he feels about her yet and she was kind of uncertain about Milo at first. She’s super organized and he’s obviously a walking disaster, but she has had gradually warmed up to Milo after he saved the school dance and when they discovered that they both like the same extreme cooking show.

 

Cavendish and Dakota stood under the hot sun in an empty field on the edge of town. Cavendish was fuming. “Outrageous,” he muttered, stabbing a piece of garbage. He deposited it into the garbage bag in his hand, “Simply unbelievable!”
Dakota stopped in the act of picking up a piece of garbage and turned to face his partner. “Cavendish, you need to let it go.”
“I know I should let it go,” said Cavendish, “but I can’t.”
Dakota sighed. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “It’s Milo. He’s a likeable kid. What are you gonna do?” He could guess where this was going. Cavendish had already gone rouge once, after having unknowingly witness Milo’s initial abduction by the Octalians. Dakota hadn’t believed Cavendish at the time and his skepticism had almost ended their friendship. On top of that they had received a formal reprimand from their supervisor, Mr. Block. “Boys, you were take of off time agent duty because of your inability to follow orders,” he had said genially. “And now you’ve gone haring off to an alien planet without filing the proper paperwork.”
“But, Sir,” Cavendish had protested, “the boy who was abducted was a rather unusual case-“
Mr. Block had not been willing to let Cavendish finish, “I’m sorry boys,” he had said. “You went off-world, which is a clear violation of your mission mandate. I have no choice to give you a formal reprimand.” Cavendish’s communicator had beeped, indicating an incoming message, no doubt it was their formal reprimand. “If you violate your mission mandate again, I will have no choice but to send to Ancient Rome, where you’ll be assigned cleaning latrines. Have a good day, boys.” Mr. Block had signed off.
Cavendish savagely speared a piece of alien garbage. He took a deep breath to calm himself and looked at Dakota. “Yes,” he said, “Milo is a perfectly pleasant young man and the incident with Octalians wasn’t his fault, but they cloned him, replaced him with a robot and attempted to kidnap him twice.”
Dakota shrugged. “They were desperate,” he said. “They should have just asked him for his help. You know what Milo is like. He practically bends over backwards for people, even people who don’t really want him around.”
“Yes,” agreed Cavendish, “that is one of Milo’s many admirable qualities, but that’s not the point.”
Dakota looked confused. ”Well then, I don’t understand,” he said, “what are you getting at?”
Cavendish sighed. “Don’t you see?” he asked. “The Octalians were sufficiently interested in Milo’s negative probability field to be willing to kidnap him twice.”
“Uhhhhh…….Isn’t that a little dark?” asked Dakota, a note of skepticism creeping into his voice.
“Considering what they put him through, no I don’t think it is,” responded Cavendish.
Dakota looked confused. “So, what are you getting at?” he asked. “Are you saying that you expect somebody to take Milo again? Isn’t that kind of a stretch?”
“Ordinarily, I would say yes it is,” replied Cavendish, “but most people don’t spontaneously cause things to happen the way Milo does.”
“Which is-“ began Dakota.
“-not his fault,” finished Cavendish, “but I must consider the possibility that there are others who might be interested in Milo and have less than noble intentions.”
“OK,” replied Dakota slowly, “so what are you suggesting, that we follow Milo?”
Cavendish shook his head. “No, not exactly,” he said. “Milo is capable of looking after himself, but we should keep an eye out for any unusual occurrences around Danville.”
Dakota laughed. “You want us to watch for weird stuff around town, with Milo walking around? Milo causes half the strange stuff that happens around Danville.”
“Well, I never said that it would be easy,” replied Cavendish, “but-“
Dakota shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, what are you gonna do,” he said, “it’s Milo.”

 

Episode 4

The other kids were staring at Milo as he walked from his house down the street to the bus stop the next morning. Melissa, Zack and Amanda were already waiting at the bus stop in the early morning sunshine. Milo waved at them. “Hi guys,” he said brightly.
“Morning, Milo,” said Amanda.
Milo heard somebody snort loudly behind him. He turned to see who had made the noise and found a boy with black hair and rimless glasses looking incredulously at him. “Oh, hi, Bradley,” he said flatly.
Bradley Nicholson stared at Milo in annoyance. “Typical,” he exclaimed, waving his arms, one of which ended in a woody tendril, “just typical, Milo disappears and everyone welcomes him back like he’s some sort of hero or something.” For reasons that Milo had never really understood, Bradley had never liked him.
“Hi, Amanda,” said Milo, ignoring Bradley’s outburst. Milo felt a large, heavy hand land on his shoulder. He turned to see who it belonged to and found himself staring at the broad, fleshy face of Mort Schaeffer. “Hi Mort,” said Milo genially, “how’s your blocked chakra?”
“Hi Milo,” said Mort. “My chakras are balanced again, thanks for asking. I figured you three would turn up again. I felt emanations from my rose quartz.” The quarterback for the Jefferson Middle School Geckos, Mort was a broad shouldered, barrel chested boy a couple of inches taller and a good ten pounds heavier than Milo.
“Well, it’s nice to know I was missed,” said Milo.
“Oh, yeah,” said Chad Van Coff, appearing at Mort’s side as if out of nowhere, “we noticed you were gone, because Bradley kept complaining about how quiet everything was without you around.”
Milo was slightly confused. “Really?” he asked, “because Bradley has never exactly liked me.”
Mort nodded, “Oh yeah,” he said, “he put out all kinds of bad emanations.” Mort pointed to a spot in the middle of his forehead. “I could really feel it in my Third Eye. I had to spend a lot of time meditating on my second chakra.” Mort shrugged. “I offered to show him some relaxation techniques from my yoga class, but he wasn’t interested.”
Milo’s conversation with Mort was interrupted by the squealing of tires on asphalt. Milo turned along with everyone else to watch as the school bus came barreling around the corner. It rode up on two wheels as it skidded into the turn, then fell heavily back on to all four tires with a distant thud. It sped down the street toward where all the kids were standing and Milo’s hand whipped out, grabbing the back of Zack’s belt and pulling him backward out of the way. The bus careened off the road and hit a nearby tree with a loud crunch of rending metal.
Zack uttered a startled, “hey what the-“ then turned to see who had grabbed him and found Milo standing behind him. He smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Milo.”
Milo shrugged and smiled at Zack, “anytime,” he said.
Bradley snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Well, it looks like the Milo show is back on the air.”
Amanda pulled out her phone and began flicking through her schedule. “We should get going if we don’t want to be late for school,” she said. “I only allow fifteen minutes to get from the bus stop to school and it’ll take twenty minutes to walk.” She set off without waiting to see if the others were following her.
Melissa stared at Amanda’s retreating back. “Well, it looks like we’re walking to school today.”
Milo hefted his heavy backpack higher on to his shoulders. “At least it’s nice morning for a walk,” he said.

 

The sun shone through the large windows of the engineering lab at the Danville Academy for Gifted Children, casting Phineas and his drafting board in a large square of bright sunlight. The mop of unruly red hair on top of his head made him look as though he was on fire. He frowned, chewing on the end of his drafting pencil, and stared at the half completed set of drawings. He turned away from his half finished plans and bent over without getting out of his chair. Pausing momentarily to give Perry a scratch behind the ear, Phineas rummaged in his bag and pulled a battered looking project book from his bag. It was full of sketches, scribbled notes and calculations. Phineas quickly rifled through it until he found the page he wanted. He studied the drawing on the page carefully for several minutes, then made several additions to the plans on the drafting board, which consisted primarily of a pair of upright carbon fibre panels on a raised platform. Phineas waved to get Ferb’s attention. “Ferb,” he said, “hey, Ferb, come over here and tell me what you think.”
A boy with tousled dark green hair and a slightly cocked eyed appearance got off his chair and walked over to where Phineas was working. Ferb studied Phineas’ half completed technical drawings with a critical eye. “Hmmmm,” he said thoughtfully, “yes this looks good.” Ferb rattled of a list of additional modifications.
Phineas flipped to a blank page in his project book and began scribbling. He looked at his notes and then back at the plans on the drafting board in front of him. He pointed at several places on the drawings. “We could place muon traps here, here and here,” he said.
Ferb studied the indicated positions carefully. “That would interfere with the antiproton array,” he said.
Phineas thought for a moment. “Maybe we need some sort of shielding for the antiproton array?” he suggested.
Ferb nodded, “yes that would seem to be a reasonable solution,” and he rattled off a list of possible shielding materials.
Phineas scribbled more notes and then studied the drawings again. “Hmmm,” he said after several minutes contemplation, “this is really more Baljeet’s area than mine.” He turned again and waved to a brown skinned Indian boy what was smaller that he was. “Hey, Baljeet,” he called, “come over here for a second.”
Baljeet Tjinder walked over to where Phineas and Ferb were examining Phineas’ drawings. As soon as he saw them, Baljeet shook his head. “These are wrong,” he said in his high pitched voice. He pointed at the locations of the muon traps, “if you put these here,” he pointed to a different of locations, then pointed to the antiproton array, “and put this over here,” he pointed to another location, “they will not interfere with each other and you are more likely to achieve a stable event horizon.”
Phineas scribbled out some calculations. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s much better.” He turned his attention back to the unfinished set plans on his drafting board and began to make Baljeet’s modifications

 

The afternoon sunlight slanted through the grimy windows that ringed the warehouse’s upper storey. The man who was once called Obake had not slept in three days. Several days of stubble darkened his face and he needed a shower. A half eaten plate of food sat unattended next a laptop on a work cart. The array of computer monitors continued to display an endless stream of mathematical calculations. He ignored these, however. A portable clean room had been set up in the middle of the circle of computers and work carts. The pristine white cube looked totally at odds with the grimy surroundings of the abandoned warehouse. A TV droned unattended in the background, with the help of Boss Awesome, Big Hero 6 had foiled the plans of Baron von Steamer and Supersonic Sue. He ignored the TV. He cared nothing for the petty adventures of Big Hero 6. Let them fight their small battles. His gaze was set higher. He pulled on the white smock, which had hanging by itself on a coatrack next to the outer door, and cycled through into the interior. The interior of the clean room was completely spotless. In the middle of the floor stood a raised platform, the surrounding space filled with work carts loaded with tools, equipment and sundry items needed to complete the project. Thick power cables snaked here and there across the clean room floor. A pair of carbon fibre panels stood stacked in one corner, while a generator sat in the opposite one. The man went over the nearest laptop and input his latest data. The endless stream of calculations changed slightly. The man nodded. He picked up one of the muon traps. He hefted the instrument in his hand, as though he could gauge its effectiveness just by holding it. He walked over to a work bench at the edge of the room bearing a large and powerful microscope. The muon trap was was the size of a sheet of paper and about as thick as a paperback book. It was designed to channel excess energy away from the antiproton array and stabilize the event horizon. He placed the muon trap under the microscope and examined it carefully. The surface was pitted with tens of thousands of microscopic dimples. He zoomed in closer and studied the component for several more minutes, then he nodded to himself in approval. He pulled the component out from under the microscope and walked over to where the half completed machine stood in the middle of the room. The muon trap was designed to fit into a graphed framework embedded in the floor of the platform. He bent down and slipped the component into the open receptacle. It fit perfectly and the mounting arms underneath took it and pulled it all the way down into the receptacle, where it was connected to the machine’s energy grid with a soft metallic click. The man once called Obake smiled thinly. He stepped away from the platform and walked back to the work cart bearing the laptop. He typed a few commands and the endless stream of equations disappeared and he opened a different window in its place. He keyed in some more commands and a electric blue haze descended over the clean room, along with a high pitched whine. The man stood and listened for what seemed like several minutes, then input a few deft keystrokes. The blue lights overhead clicked off and the high pitched hum faded, leaving only silence. His project was coming along nicely.

 

Gosh, she's efficient. Poor bus driver, let's hope ambulances came soon!

Good depiction of setting the stage for something big to happen.

 

Amanda is organized almost to the point of being OCD. Initially, I wasn’t really keen on the writers setting up Milo and Amanda as a possible couple, but I decided to run with it because it occurred to me that one of Milo’s coping strategies for dealing with the insanity that is his life is that he has had to learn to be really, really organized, which probably means that he has more in common with Amanda that you might think. And considering that Gyro, Obake and Phineas and Ferb are all working on interdimensional wormhole generators, yeah something big is going to happen eventually, I just haven’t worked what that something is yet.

 

It was bound to happen, writers being the romantic slobs they we are. Happy plotting!

 

Yeah, that’s OK, I’ve had a few thoughts about what might wind up happening to Milo and Melissa. My thinking is that they both get time agent training and get partnered together.

 

Episode 5

The rain pounded against the roof of Heinz Doofenshmirtz’ shed, in Milo Murphy’s backyard. It was almost one in the morning and he was staring at a white board full of complex calculations. He frowned at it, as if something was missing. After a long moment he turned to Perry, who was standing, on top of a pile of boxes examining the white board. He chittered his teeth at Doofenshmirtz, who sighed.
“Yeah, I know Perry the Platypus,” said the disheveled looking scientist, “but the möbius loop collapses almost immediately, look.” Doofenshmirtz picked up a pad of paper, scribbled out some calculations and handed them to the platypus. Perry took them and studied them intently. He shook his his head, chittered at Doofenshmirtz, picked up a pen and wrote a new set of equations. He handed them back to Doofenshmirtz, who took them and examined them closely. He muttered under his breath, “Hmmmm….well, perhaps….maybe if….and then….yes.” He looked up and turned to Perry, “yes,” he said excitedly, “that might work.” Doofenshmirtz walked over to the white board and wiped it clean. He picked a marked and began to hurriedly write out Perry’s calculations, pausing here and there only to make slight modifications. The mathematical equations that Perry had written describe a modified möbius loop which would allow a properly shielded vehicle to travel along the length of the loop, stop at any point and return the temporal co-ordinates of its starting point. Of course, mapping out the mathematics of temporal physics was easy, actually building a vehicle that could safely navigate the time stream would be much, much harder. It would require facilities and precision equipment and funding and…..he pushed the thoughts away with difficulty. Perry had generously arranged to provide Doofenshmirtz with all of his OWCA pay as seed money for Doofenshmirtz’ research, and he was grateful for that. Doofenshmirtz had owned a large building in downtown Danville, however, his building had been destroyed by the Pistachions when they had tried to manipulate the timeline and take over the world. As a result he had lost his building, all of his personal effects, his equipment and most of his inators. Because of this, Doofenshmritz was living in a shed in the backyard of a 13 year old boy, who by all accounts, including his own, was a walking catastrophe.
Doofenshmirtz pushed the thought away with difficulty. He knew he should be grateful to Milo and his family for taking him in and giving him a place to stay, but thoughts of his childhood came bubbling to the surface any way. Heinz Doofensmirtz had been born in Gimmelshtump, Drusselstein. From an early age Doofenshmirtz, had shown considerable intelligence, which had gone unrecognized by his family and teachers. The other children at school had claimed that the young Doofensmhirtz had smelled, and consequently the intelligent young boy had had no friends. As a result of his isolation Heinz had retreated into himself, focusing on building his inators, which became increasingly complex over time. When he was ten, Heinz was taken the Gimmelshtump Public Wetness Maker on one of the alternate Thursdays in which it was full of water. In the traditional rite of passage, Doofenshmirtz has been made to climb to the top of the tallest diving board and jump into the water below, however upon reaching the edge, his nerves had failed. Disappointed, his parents had disowned him. Shortly thereafter, Heinz’ father had brought home a puppy, which as if the emphasize the point, he had named Only Son. Only Son had gone on to become a champion show dog and had brought fame and wealth to Doofenshmirtz’ father, however, for Heinz there was nothing but misery. The family lawn gnome had been confiscated and Heinz had been dressed as a lawn gnome and forced to stand in front of his parents’ house in its place. Around the same time, Doofenshmirtz’ mother announced that she was expecting again. Convinced that the baby would be a girl, his mother had sewn a large number of dresses. To their surprise, the baby had been a boy, who, they had named Roger.
Roger quickly became the darling of his parents’ eye, while Heinz continued to receive nothing but neglect. He was forced to wear the girl’s clothing that his mother had made while she was pregnant with Roger, which had led to even more ridicule from the other children. In an effort to win his parents affection, Heinz had spent his entire allowance for a year on a teddy bear, which he had given to his mother, who immediately gave it to Roger. As Heinz grew into his teenage years he began to develop an interest in shadow puppetry, and as young man was eventually sent by his parents to seek his fortune in America, where he developed an interest in art. For awhile he struggled to find his muse, but eventually painted a masterpiece, at least until Roger spilled food on his work. Discouraged, Heinz abandoned art and attempted to become a poet, however he met with little success and his career as a poet proved to be short lived. He attempted to reinvent himself yet again, this time selling bratwursts. When this failed, Doofenshmirtz became determined to get back everyone who had ever wronged him and enrolled in evil school, which he failed after failing to blow up the moon in an effort to impress his teacher Dr. Gervaarlik. Around the same time, he briefly dated a young up and coming singer named Linda Flynn, but the relationship didn’t last. A short time later, he married and fathered a daughter named Vanessa, but this relationship also hadn’t lasted.
In the intervening 16 years, Doofenshmirtz has devoted himself to doing evil. During this time his activities had come to the attention of the Organization without a Cool Acronym. OWCA had assigned Perry to thwart Doofenshmirtz’ many evil schemes. In spite of their often combative relationship, Doofenshmirtz had come to view the platypus as a friend. He supposed that was because he had always known where he stood with Perry. After OWCA had offered him the choice of prison for his many misdeeds, or community service, Perry had been assigned to keep Doofenshmirtz out of trouble. The previous year, shortly before he had lost his building, he had an encounter with a future version of himself, as well with a pair of time travellers from the late 22nd Century. He had been astonished to learn that he would eventually become the inventor of time travel. He stared around the cramped and cluttered shed. The rain drummed like incessant fingers on the medal roof. Boxes of inator parts were piled haphazardly in the corners and mathematical equations and sketched designs for new inators were taped to the walls. An unmade bed occupied the majority of one wall and a workbench occupied the majority of the opposite wall. Doofenshmirtz turned his attention back to the calculations on the whiteboard. They seemed to stare inscrutably back at him. Could he actually do this? he wondered, unlock the complexities of time travel in just fifteen years. For a second it seemed as though his hunched frame became even more round shouldered, as if was trying to hold up all the expectations that had ever been heaped on Doofensmirtz and wasn’t quite succeeding. He rubbed his eyes and stared and the equations again. Perry chittered at him.
Doofensmhirtz turned to face the platypus. “Yes, it’s late, Perry the Platypus,” he said. “Perhaps one more pot of coffee.” He picked up an empty coffee pot balanced unsteadily on top of a pile of books, walked to the door and went out into the rain.

The walk from his shed across the yard to the back door into the kitchen only took a couple of minutes, but in the pouring rain, Doofenshmritz was immediately drenched. He reached the kitchen door, pulled it open and went inside. A light over the stove cast a dim gloom over the room. He clicked on the overhead light and rummaged through the pantry looking for the instant coffee and the coffee filters. He quickly found them and filled up the coffee maker sitting next to the toaster oven at the end of the kitchen counter. He placed the coffee pot in the empty receptacle, pushed the button and waited for the coffee to brew. As he was waiting he heard the clatter of small objects hitting the floor overhead, followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. A second later, Milo sauntered casually into the kitchen. He was dressed in a pair of gym shorts, a faded Dr. Zone T-shirt and bare feet. As was always the case, his backpack was slung over his back. Without taking it off, he pulled open the flap on top and produced a grabber arm. He managed to pry open the refrigerator door, this time without breaking off the handle, reached inside and with the arm, pulled out six cans of Pep, depositing them into his backpack, one at a time.
“Oh, hi Doof,” he said causally. Distant chatter and laughter drifted downstairs through Milo’s open bedroom door. He had invited Zack, Melissa, Amanda, Phineas and Ferb over for a sleepover.
“Hi, Milo,” said Doofenshmirtz. His pot of coffee was almost full and the coffee maker gurgled loudly. Doofenshmirtz watched as Milo finished rummaging the fridge and turned to go back upstairs to his friends. “Uhhh…..Milo…..”he began awkwardly.
The thin, round shouldered boy turned to face the formerly evil scientist. “Yeah, Doof,” said Milo expectantly.
“Ummmm……look, Milo,” continued Doofenshmirtz, “I never…..I mean…..I’m not very good at this sort of thing, but I never thanked you…..for well…..” he trailed off into an awkward silence.
“Oh,” replied Milo, “well if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have been able to stop the Pistachions, and your building getting blown up was partially the result of Murphy’s Law, so I guess in a sense we owe you one.” He turned to go back up stairs, to where his friends were waiting for him.
As Doofensmirtz watched Milo turned to leave, he suddenly thought of his own chaotic childhood again and how this skinny kid calmly lived in the middle of a hurricane of chaos. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “how do you do it, Milo?”
Milo stopped and turned face Doofenshmritz again. “How do I do what?” he asked.
Doofenshmirtz looked stricken. He wasn’t sure at all why he was having this conversation with Milo. He felt as though he was asking the teenager to divulge an intimate secret. He wanted to say, “how do you live a normal life?” but couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. He started stammer, but Milo seemed to read his mind.
“Well, I had a really good babysitter,” replied Milo, after a second’s thought. The question had surprised him. No one had ever actually asked him how he managed to live with Murphy’s Law.“Veronica taught me a lot. She gave me my backpack.” He nodded at the heavy backpack still slung over his shoulders, “and Dad has been really helpful too.” Milo’s father had also been born with Murphy’s Law and Milo had come to greatly value his father’s advice and guidance. He looked at Doofenshmritz. “Why do you want to know?” he asked.
For a second, Doofensmhirtz looked as if he were about to confess his doubts about his future as Professor Time fifteen years from now, but he pushed the thought away. He was definitely not having that conversation with Milo. “Never mind,” he said dejectedly. “It doesn’t matter,” He picked the now full coffee pot.
Milo gave him a searching look. “Well, OK,” he said after a long moment. He turned and went back up stairs.
Doofenshmirtz went back out into the pouring rain.

 

Episode Six

As Milo walked back up stairs, his backpack loaded with drinks and snacks from the fridge, he paused to pick up the various family pictures that had fallen off the wall in his passing as he had gone downstairs to raid the fridge. As he proceeded down the hall past his sister’s bedroom, he noticed a chink of light spilling out from the gap under her door. He heard quiet giggles from the other side of the door. Sara was canoodling with Neal from the comic ship. Milo chuckled to himself and kept walking. He continued past the bathroom and stopped at his own door, which was opposite his parents’. Milo pushed open the door and went inside, just in time to hear Zack say “-and that was the story of the woodpecker incident,” amid a round of laughter. Diogee bounded over to him, knocking aside the game of Skiddley Whiffers that the six of them had been playing, sending the board and game pieces flying all over the room. He bent down and gave Diogee an affectionate scratch behind the ears. Diogee barked happily, wagged his stumpy tail and licked Milo’s hand. Milo pulled some dog treats out of his backpack. Diogee sniffed Milo’s closed hand and wagged his tail excitedly again. Milo opened his hand and a long pick tongue flicked out and scooped up the dog biscuits. Diogee crunched happily, licking the crumbs off of Milo’s open palm. Milo gave him another affectionate scratch. “Good boy, Diogee,” he said, then he pointed a dog bed in a corner. “I need you to go to bed, OK.” Diogee barked an affirmation then waddled over to the indicated corner, turned around several times, lay down and curled up in a furry ball.
Milo turned face to Zack, Melissa, Amanda, Phineas and Ferb. He put down his backpack with a thud and sat down cross legged next to it. “Ok,” he said, opening the flap and rummaging inside, “who’s thirsty?” He reached inside and pulled out a can of Pep. It burst in his hand, covering him dark, sticky soda. “Whoops,” chuckled Milo. Milo reached around behind himself, and without getting up, tossed it across the room into the garbage can next to his desk with a flick of his wrist.
Phineas watched him with an appraising eye. “Have you ever played baseball, Milo?” The younger boy asked. “You have a pretty good arm.” Phineas excelled at baseball, but then Phineas and Ferb excelled at practically everything.
Zack and Melissa choked back laughter as Milo rummaged in his backpack for a towel to dry his face. “Milo? Play baseball?” replied Melissa, still laughing. “That sounds like a recipe for some missing teeth.” Melissa subconsciously ran her tongue over her teeth. Melissa had false front teeth because she had once been hit in the mouth with a baseball
“Yeah, I don’t know, Phineas,” replied Milo, drying his face and putting the towel back in his backpack, “I tried baseball once, but after the incident with the Danville Tornados and the flock of sea gulls, well I decided that baseball wasn’t for me.” Milo reached into his backpack again, pulled out half a dozen chocolate pudding cups and began passing them around. As if on cue, one of them burst, covering Milo’s hand in sticky chocolate pudding. He licked the chocolatey glob off of his hand, pulled out his towel again and wiped the sticky residue off of his hand, then tossed the ruptured pudding cup into the trash can next to his desk, where it landed with a soft splat next to the burst pop tin. He reached into his backpack a third time and produced a box of plastic spoons, which he passed around without incident.