| Well, thank you for inviting me!
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Author's warning: This story is not the . . .fluffiest on this Fanon. I thought it would only be fair to warn you in advance: if you are softhearted, expect a tear or two.
Bob Gweeni was sitting in the waiting room reading a newspaper feeling anxious. His seven-year-old daughter Iantha was next to him, playing with her favorite toy, a stuffed platypus. They had been sitting there for several hours, waiting.
"Daddy?" Iantha crawled into her father's lap. "How much longer?"
Bob sighed and looked at his watch. "Any minute now, dear."
A nurse popped her head into the room. "Congratulations!" she said. "It's a girl!"
Bob and Iantha quickly followed the nurse into the hospital room. Iantha's mother, Hilda, was laying in a bed holding something wrapped in a blanket.
Iantha peeked between the layers of cloth. Inside was a wrinkled pink thing that stared back at her with big, blue eyes. A dusting of red hair lay on its head.
"This is your new sister, Iantha. Her name is Trixie." Hilda said but Iantha wasn't listening. There was something in those eyes. Something that told Iantha that there was only room for one girl in Bob and Hilda's hearts.
And that girl wouldn't be Iantha herself.
An explosion rattled the windows of the Gweeni mansion. It was followed by yelling, the opening of a few windows, and a fire alarm going off. A family rushed out of the house: a middle-aged man and woman, and two girls, one six years old and the other thirteen. Soon a firetruck pulled up in front of the house and several men jumped out. They immediately hosed down the smoking house and left without a word.
The minute they were gone Bob Gweeni turned to Iantha and yelled, "When will you learn? I've told you over and over that inventing is dangerous! We could have been killed!" He stomped back into the house and returned minutes later with his arms full of Benson burners, beakers and chemicals, all of which he dumped into the trash cans next to the house. "There! I hope that will teach you! No more inventing in my house!"
Iantha frowned. Her father had threatened several times about taking away her supplies, but she never thought he'd acutally do it. She glanced at her younger sister, Trixie, who had a smug look on her face, like she was anticipating this very moment for quite some time.
Iantha's mother glared at her daughter and led her family back into the house, where Iantha immediatly raced into the basement.
"Don't even think about inventing down there!" Hilda called after her.
Iantha figured that she wasn't really disobeying since she was not thinking about inventing at all. As long as she kept the words "invent", "inventing" and "invented" out of her mind, she was perfectly innocent.
She ran to the end of the basement and opened a shabby, mildew-covered cupboard slouching against the wall. She opened it and took out her secret supplies: a chemistry set, assorted cooking oils, and a cup of liquid laundry detergent. Iantha smiled. Her father would never find these.
She was working on a secret project, one that would take a lot of supplies and a lot of hard work.
"But it's going to be worth it," Iantha said to herself. She was making a potion that would allow it's drinker to love. Far more than the average human could on its own. And she was going to give it to her family.
"Soon," she said, mixing chemicals. "Very soon."
"Iantha!" Hilda yelled. "Get ready. We're going to Trixie's award ceremony."
"That's my girl. So talented." Bob smiled at his younger daughter. "Just like her father."
When the family arrived at Trixie's elementary school, they took their seats at the front row of the auditorium. Bob, Hilda and Trixie all had smiles on their faces. Iantha, however, was concentrating on her love potion and how to mix the chemicals properly.
The third-grade teacher announced, one by one, the students in his class and how well they behaved. After most of the class had gotten their name called, the teacher paused and straightened his tie. A nervous expression was on his face.
"One of the most, er, sucessful students in my class is Trixie Gweeni. Her accomplishments in this school year include..." Sweat ran down the man's face. "...not only showing excellent self-control and tidiness, but also showing exceptional kindness to other students." The man looked away as if ashamed of what he had just said. Iantha raised her eyebrows. That didn't sound like Trixie. In fact, in sounded like the opposite. Trixie, a satisfied look on her face, marched up to the stage and recieved her diploma.
After the ceremony, Iantha caught a glimpse of her father slipping something - several dollar bills - into the third-grade teachers hand. She gasped. Her father had bribed the teacher into lying about Trixie's behavior!
Iantha ran over to her father. "I can't believe you bribed him!" she shouted.
"Lower your voice," Bob growled. "And I did it for my angel-baby's own good. Now everyone will think even better of her."
Iantha was shocked. "I've had four times as many award ceremonies, and I don't remember the teachers saying anything great about me, let alone you bribing the teachers!"
"This is none of your business! What I do with my daughter is none of your concern!"
"I'm your daughter, too!" Iantha screamed, on the verge of tears.
Bob grabbed her arm and gestured for Trixie and Hilda to join them. "We're going home." He barked. "Now."
Iantha began working on the potion the minute she got home. She needed it more than ever, and so did her family.
She carefuly poured several poisonous liquids together in a plastic cup and stirred. What had made her mother and father so, so cruel? Trixie wasn't the only daughter they had. it. Why couldn't they realize that?
"Iantha!" She heard her mother call from the top of the basement stairs. She sounded angry.
Iantha slowly walked up the stairs and saw Hilda holding a flask of green liquid. Bob and Trixie stood next to her. Uh-oh, Iantha thought.
"Look what we found in your bedroom, Iantha." Bob snarled.
Iantha took a deep breath. She didn't keep any chemicals in her bedroom, and she had never seen the qreen liquid before in her life. "I don't know what that is, or how it got in my bedroom," she said calmly.
"Don't play with me, young lady," Hilda stomped her foot. "We exspressively told you that inventing is not allowed in this house!"
"And I expressively told you that I don't know how that got in my bedroom!"
Iantha knew how it got there. She had suspected Trixie would do something to her, but never like this. Trixie had framed her.
Bob turned red. "And what will we see if we go into the basement?" He gestured at the basement door.
"Don't!" Her love potion was down there, uncovered. Bob would definitely find it, and her work would be ruined. So would her family.
Her father smirked and opened the door to the basement.
"Please don't! It's for your own good!" Iantha felt tears forming.
Bob wouldn't listen. He, holding Trixie's hand, walked clamly down the stairs. Hilda followed, pulling Iantha along.
There was Iantha's potion, on her work table. Bob spotted it and a smile crept on his face. Trixie had a smug grin on her face, the same expression she had when Iantha accidentally caught the house on fire.
Bob grabbed the potion and held it high. "I thought you said you wouldn't invent anymore!" He yelled in Iantha's face. "What do you think this is?"
Iantha grabbed the potion out of her father's hands. It slipped out of her grasp and the contents poured on her head. All her hard work, and her family's future, gone to waste.
But had it?
Iantha began to experience change at the very moment it spilled. She grew shorter, and felt something on her face. She put her hand to her nose, and felt something soft and rubbery. It was a duck bill.
"Bob, do something!" Hilda cried. "She's turning into a monster!"
Bob just stood and stared as Iantha's body continued to change. Her sneakers sank into her feet and soon formed webbed toes. Her skin was changing color, a dark bluish-purple. Iantha muffled a scream as she felt something else on her - a large, orange tail.
She had become a platypus.
Iantha was not unhappy with what had happened. In fact, she was quite impressed. She had mastered something she could never accomplish: transformation.
But her father was seething. "Look what you've done!" he roared. "You brought this upon yourself. I told you not to invent, and look what happened!" He picked up her remaining supplies and threw it on the floor. "Get out!" he screamed.
Horrified, Iantha froze. Get out?
Iantha ran, and didn't stop until she was out of the house. She only turned back once, and saw Trixie, sitting back and looking satisfied. Blinking back confused tears, Iantha raced down her home street, struggling to run with her webbed feet.
After running over a mile, Iantha sat down on a curb and wept. All she was trying to do was bring her family back together. And now look at the mess she had created!
She stood up after a few minutes and suddenly felt exhausted. She realized that she didn't have anywhere to spend the night.
She heard some noises from behind the house she was sitting in front of. Feeling suddenly bold, she ran into the backyard of the house. She saw a tree, two boys, a girl, and a ferris wheel. Wait.
A ferris wheel?
"Hi!" One of the boys called cheerfully. "What's your name?"
"I'm Iantha," she said, still in awe of the ferris wheel.
"I'm Phineas, and this is my brother Ferb, and sister Candace!" He smiled. "What brings you here?"
"A love of inventing," Iantha replied without thinking. "Do you think I could stay here for a few nights?"
"Sure, if our mom says you can! Would you like to help us finish this ride?"
A grin crept upon Iantha's face. "Yes. Yes I do."