Norm: What's wrong with that? Doofenshmirtz: What's wrong with that? Do you realize what would happen if all the other evil organizations found out we were sharing? "Oh, look! There goes L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.! They share! They're cocky and uncoordinated and don't wear name-brand jeans!" "Well, maybe people can't afford designer jeans, Julie!" Norm: (beat) Wow. That was--
Doofenshmirtz: Yeah, yeah, I heard it.
Carl: Sir, may I offer you one of my budget-saving hors d'oevers? It's an old family recipe: Strips of bologna and wadded out white bread.
Major Monogram: Where exactly are you from?
Carl: Chula Vista.
Parrot: Rawk! Polly wants a street fight!
Linda: Here's your stuff from the attic, Candace. I don't know why you couldn't find it.
Candace: I don't know. It must've been behind something. Heh heh. Linda: Candace, you didn't go up there, did you? Candace: Oh, Mom, I just couldn't go up there. It's all gross and webby. Linda: Candace Flynn, don't tell me you're still afraid of spiders. Candace: Spiders? Pfft. Why would I be afraid of an itsy bitsy SPIDER!!! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Linda: It's a hair clip...that looks nothing like a spider.
Candace: I knew that. I was just showing you how silly it was to be afraid of a spider.
Linda: (to Candace) Just remember, you're in charge, Miss Muffet.
Colonel Contraction: Major Monogram, I hold you personally responsible for turning one of our most sacred ceremonies into a grade A countrified debacle!
Major Monogram: Debacle? Colonel Contraction: DEBACLE! Now normally, I'd be able to forgive this kind of thing because of your tireless dedication and spotless record to OWCA, but it's clear to me you've totally lost our security deposit and that is something I cannot forgive. I'm forced to relieve you of command. I'll take that... (rips off the first "M" on Monogram's uniform) and that! (rips off his mustache) Monogram: Actually, sir, that mustache was mine.
Colonel Contraction: Not anymore. (leaves, then reenters) DEBACLE!!!
Tour Guide: Are you folks ready for a little adventure?
Lawrence: Oh, yes, we're ready for our journey of self-discovery while crawling through the belly of the Earth. Tour Guide: Say what? Lawrence: Well, like the ad said, "Inner Spelunking with Soul". Tour Guide: What?! Oh, no, no, no! It's supposed to be "Saul", S-A-U-L. That's my name, Saul. There will be absolutely no self-discovery. Lawrence: Awww.
Linda: You go on and self-discover, hun.
Young Candace: (on video) Thith ith Candathe Flynn. I'm five yearth old and it wath an awethome thummer! But I didn't get to do everything I wanted. Tho I made a litht of thingth that I want Future Candathe to take care of.
Candace: Oh, that's so cute. Of course, I'll take care of those things, Past Candace! Young Candace: (on video) First on the list, invent an ice cream flavor, win a first-grade spelling bee, ride a unicorn. Tho if you're watching, Future Candathe, don't— Young Stacy: (offscreen) Candace, don't forget number four, conquer fear of spiders. Young Candace: (on video) Okay, that one creepth me out a little bit, but that should be no problem for you, Future Candathe!
(Perry gets trapped in foam) Doofenshmirtz: Ha! You like that? It's a gift...foam-a me to you!
Doofenshmirtz: And to that end, I have created, tada!, my Shift-The-Earth's-Position-Further-Away-From-The-Sun-inator! Eh? I know. The name's a little cumbersome, but it's basically a tractor beam that uses the mass of Jupiter as an anchor to pull the Earth just slightly away from the sun to render my sunscreen effective. Eh. I guess my fortune cookie was right. I do tend to overcomplicate things. (picks up fortune) I wonder if that means these lottery numbers are— (gets punched)
(Cut to the virtual concert where the Earth is quaking. The crowd stops partying and starts screaming.)
Saul: Most people don't think life can survive down this deep, but most people don't know gastropods the way I do. Take a gander at this salamander. Notice anything unusual? Lawrence: Oh, yes, his gills are on the outside of his body. Saul: They are? Ew! Oh! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Lawrence: (to Linda) It didn't have any eyes either.
Linda: Thanks for not mentioning that.
Major-in-Charge Carl: (to Agent P) Is that goat still eating from the inbox? (Perry nods) It's a good thing I hid the outbox.
Major-in-Charge Carl: It's intel from Agent Squab, our French surveillance pigeon. Hmm, there's a small shift in ambient temperature, there's civil unreasonableness at City Hall, and L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. is convening for a secret meeting?! Oh no! Why did this have to happen on my watch?! Monty: Wait a minute, you got all that from this? (Cut to the letter to reveal it is just slashes and foot markings.)
Major-in-Charge Carl: Yeah, that's how Agent Squab types, all hunt-and-peck.
Major-in-Charge Carl: (to the goat) Agent G, quit eating those memos and get out into the field! (to the dog) Agent D, go see what you can dig up! (to the owl) Agent O, go find out who's who! Agent Possum, play dead! (Agent Possum does so.) Excellent! (To the bear who is shredding documents) Agent B, go into the woods and...see what's out there!
Major-in-Charge Carl: Hey, Monty?
Monty: What? Major-in-Charge Carl: Thanks Monty: No problem. Oh, and, uh, (takes off fedora) can I have a different hat? This one smells like a litter box.
Major-in-Charge Carl: (referring to the mustache) Yeah, you should smell this thing.
Monogram: So, uh, how'm I doin', boss?
Jeremy: Yeah, this is the part of the job I hate the most, but... Monogram: Yep. Say no more, sir. I completely understand. You don't have to fire me. (He takes off his uniform and gives it to Jeremy.) I resign. Jeremy: But— Monogram: (leaves, saluting, half-naked) Say no more. (hums)
Jeremy: But...but... I was just gonna ask him to clean the bathroom.
(Perry rescues Roger from the mob in his rocket car and places him on top of the roof.) Roger: Thank you, good Samaritan platypus! (Perry leaves him there.) Although I'm not sure this is much of an improvement. I mean, I really don't know how to get down from here...and it's getting noticeably colder up here. Oh! It's a good thing I wore my sweater.
Phineas: That's odd. I can't remember a single Danville summer where I needed to wear anything more than a T-shirt.
Baljeet: But the part that perplexes me the most is that, for some reason, the sun algorithm that I created keeps coming up with the wrong result!
Buford: 'Splain? Baljeet: The diameter of the sun can be calculated from the distance between the Earth and the sun. Since we know the time taken for the Earth to go once around the sun, P equals one year, and the distance traveled by the Earth in this process, 2πa... (During this, Buford starts to fall asleep.) BUFORD!!!
Buford: Stop 'splainin'! Stop 'splainin'!
Doofenshmirtz: Now, why do we always have to meet in drafty abandoned warehouses? I mean, why can't we meet in a drafty abandoned poolside cabana?
Rodney: Secondly, no one under any circumstances, is allowed to say "bananas for cabanas." Dr. Bloodpudding: (offscreen) Noted.
Rodney: Gentlemen, we will now begin our takeover of...the world!
Monty: (gasps, then covers his mouth) Rodney: What was that? (Cut to Monty.) Dr. Diminutive: (offscreen) Maybe the building's settling. Rodney: (offscreen) So to you, a building settling sounds like someone inhaling sharply? Dr. Diminutive: (offscreen) Well, I live in a strange building. Monty: I've got to warn Carl. Rodney: (offscreen) Okay, tell me you didn't hear that! Dr. Diminutive: (offscreen) Still the building settling.
Rodney: So our building has a sudden urge to warn Carl?
Phineas: Alright, Isabella, let me have it one more time.
(Cut to the backyard, where Isabella is experimenting with a tennis ball.)
Isabella: Well, according to our data, this is the relative position of the sun, and this is where the Earth should be on its orbit this summer. But for some reason, we're here. (sighs) Tennis balls don't lie.
(Cut to a view of the Earth, which explodes. Suddenly some end credits appear on screen, all credited to Buford. Pull out to reveal it is a computer simulation.)
Buford: And that's what would happen if we grew magnets under the Earth's core. Phineas: The credits were a nice touch.
Buford: Well, there's so many people behind the scenes that deserve a mention.
Phineas: Well, Baljeet, what have you got?
Baljeet: I have composed a simulation for turning the Earth's core into a gyroscope. Maybe that would... (groans)
Buford: And roll credits!
Saul: Okay, now we're gonna squeeze past this stalactite... I mean, stalagmite. Wait, which one is on top? Lawrence: Actually, I believe that's just a hole.
Linda: (on Saul, to Lawrence) Do you get the feeling that this might be his first time down here, too?
Rodney: There we go! With that, we've captured all of OWCA's agents.
Doofenshmirtz: Almost all of them. Remember Perry the Platypus. He's still out there somewhere. Rodney: Thank you for reminding me, Dr. Bringdown. Villain #4: Excuse me, I'm Dr. Bringdown!
Rodney: Put a sock in it, David!
Rodney: Soon, the world will bow to us, like Doofy's neck bows to his back.
(The other villains laugh.) Dr. Diminutive: His posture's poor.
Man #2: Your fall is ruining summer.
Woman #2: You made me buy a blanket with sleeves!
Man #3: My toilet seat's cold.
Doofenshmirtz: Number 2: pretzels.
Rodney: Really? That's how you give demands? Doofenshmirtz: What? What was wrong with that? I was gonna go for one of those big tubs from Lotsmo. Rodney: You sounded like a bashful Santa Claus pitching softballs to a girl in a bikini.
Doofenshmirtz: Alright, number four... Wait, you don't know what that sounds like!
Candace: Oh, I sure hope there aren't any spiders in here.
Rodney: Well, that was fun. (closeup to reveal Rodney and Doof carrying the grilled cheese flavored ice cream cones.) We should go get ice cream more often.
Doofenshmirtz: Didja have to order for all of us, Rodney? I'm not crazy about this new grilled cheese flavor. Rodney: You get what you get and you don't get upset!
Doofenshmirtz: Wow, he's strict!
Rodney: Well, what have you got to say for yourselves?
President Obama: Uh...you'll be happy to know that we've...uhhhh...met all of your demands, except for the...uhhhhhhh....pretzel thing. Rodney: What?! How dare you!! Do you know what this means?!
President Obama: Look, we're sorry. Uh...We had them, but the Vice President left the tub on the roof of the car, and we...uhhhhhhhh...
Candace: Uh, Phineas, the holographic thingy shows that the Earth is moving in the wrong direction!
Candace: Maybe it needs more power. I'm increasing the burn!
(Cut to the rockets blaring. Cut back to Phineas.) Phineas: No, Candace, don't!! Never push it into the red! That's a bad thing!! Turn down the thrusters!!!
Buford: This must be a special episode. He's yelling at his sister again.
Phineas: You must have overloaded the power relay on the control panel. You're gonna have to get a spare electromagnetic coupling fuse.
Candace: (on radio) Where would I find a thing like that? Phineas: Ferb has one in a box in the attic. Candace: (on radio) The attic?! Where all the spiders are?! Phineas: Yeah, the attic. (Cut to Candace's eyes as they widen in fear. Cut to the backyard and the city.) Candace: (offscreen) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! (Cut to L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. as they hear the scream.)
Dr. Diminutive: That's just the building settling again.
Doofenshmirtz: But this is crazy talk! I-I'm an evil scientist, not a mad scientist! Th-There's a difference! Subtle, I grant you, but, still, y'know, I don't really like the new direction this organization is taking and I think we need a little fresh air. (he walks out)
Rodney: You also need a chiropractor, Slouchy! (The villains laugh.)
Dr. Diminutive: Good one! Because he slouches!
Monogram: (to a rat) And as an agent, you get to wear a nifty fedora. I made that one out of an old newspaper. Yes, sir, OWCA is perfect for a guy like you, but-but, sadly, not for me.
Doofenshmirtz: Francis, what happened to you? Look...y-y-y-you're a washed-up mess! This whole weather thing is your fault, you know!
Monogram: My fault?!
Doofenshmirtz: Okay, technically, it's my fault. But if you weren't sitting around in a cold alley whining to rats and feeling sorry for yourself, this whole situation wouldn't have gotten so out of control! Before, I was a regular evil scientist, and now, suddenly, I'm part of this big organization of supervillains bent on world domination! I'm not comfortable with that! The point is you should've been there to stop me! And you weren't!
Monty: Wow, good work, Agent P!
Major-in-Charge Carl: Great! Now we get all his health!
Monty: You play way too many video games, man.
Candace: Come on, Candace, you can do this! What's a couple little spiders compared to the fate of the world? (climbs back down) Oh, who am I kidding?! I need support! (She dials her phone.) Stacy, I really need your help!
Stacy: (on phone) Sorry, Candace, no can do. (Cut to Stacy, whose head and right arm are completely swollen from the spider bite earlier, in a hospital bed.) Stacy: I have to stay put until the swelling goes down. Candace: (on phone) Are you okay?
Stacy: I'll be fine. But until then, you're on your own.
Phineas: Well, what's the matter, Candace?
Candace: It's my fear of spiders. I've been trying to overcome it all day. Phineas: Well, that is a valid fear. You should be cautious around some spid—
Candace: Yeah! You know what? You're right? (Climbs all the way up.) If I could do that, then I should be able to walk across the attic, right? It's being silly. Heck, I don't even remember what I was afraid of. Phineas: Spiders. Candace: AAAAH!!! (climbs back down)
Phineas: Candace, you forgot the box!
Dr. Killbot: ¡Qué lástima!
Dr. Diminutive: Wait a minute!!! (record scratch) This is the same brawl we had earlier!
Villain #6'"': That's not what he said, but...yes, we should get out of here.
Phineas: Wow, I guess there are a lot of spiders up here.
Candace: In your face, arachnid!
Phineas: Candace did it, Isabella! She got the fuse!
Isabella: Um, Phineas, one of the main locking bolts came loose on the rocket, and, uh... (Long shot to reveal the rocket now leaning over to the right.)
Phineas: Huh. Yeah, we should probably fix that before Candace puts the fuse back.
Rodney: Oh, this is just ridiculous! You and I should just... (points somewhere) Oh, look! A Horse in a Bookcase!
Doofenshmirtz: A what?
(Rodney pushes Doof away and he lands on a wall, with a mop falling on his head.)
Candace: Why isn't this thing going in? What is it? "Righty-loosey, tighty-whitey?"
Rodney: There. I've disabled the reverse switch and the self-destruct button. So there's no—
(Rodney gets whacked by Doof with the mop.)
Doofenshmirtz: Nobody messes with my self-destruct button!
Candace: It's not moving, Phineas! It's like something's resisting our jets!
(Cut back to the gang dangling onto the rope.) Phineas: I was afraid of that! Listen, push the rockets up... (Cut back to Candace.) Phineas: (on radio) ...above the red line! Candace: But, Phineas, you said that would be bad! Phineas: (on radio) Well, there is a... (Cut back to the gang.) Phineas: ....slight chance of pulling the planet apart! (Cut back to Candace.) Candace: That's a bad thing! (Cut back to the gang.) Phineas: It's our only chance, Candace! We should be okay if we just do it slow and steady! (Cut back to Candace.) Candace: Oh, just like the rabbit in the story. (Cut back to the gang.)
Phineas: Yes, exact— Wait, no! Like the turtle! Like the turtle!
Roger: I don't know what's going on anymore.
(The inator lands in the backyard and takes the control panel with it.) Candace: Yeah. Well, that's to be expected.
Rodney: (to Doof) See ya later, Slouchy! Doofenshmirtz: Yeah, well y— Ugh! I can never come up with anything quick enough!
Colonel Contraction: Well, Monogram, nice work.
Monogram: Thank you, sir. Colonel Contraction: Unfortunately, we're still not getting our deposit back on that rental hall and that's really broken the budget. I'm afraid we have to close OWCA. Major-in-Charge Carl: Sir, why don't you start a new agency? Monogram: Good idea! What do we call it? Major-in-Charge Carl: (checks his phone) Oh, looks like the name "OWCA" just became available! Oh, and so did their old building! Monogram: Great! We'll call our new organization that and move there! Major-in-Charge Carl: Good idea, sir! Monogram: And to keep costs down, we're gonna have to cut some management positions. Colonel Contraction, your services will no longer be required.
Colonel Contraction: Yeah, well, that's to be expected.
Baljeet: You really did a good job, Candace.
Candace: Yeah, and not only did we save the world, but I did everything I promised five-year-old me I'd do!
Buford: Let's all pretend like we understood that!
(Pull out to the Earth, which explodes and everyone dies. The end.)
(Well, not really, because the director credit for Buford appears onscreen.) Everyone: Buford!!! (Cut to reveal everyone angry at Buford while looking on the laptop.)
Buford: I think there must be somethin' wrong with this program.