Bully For You
Bully For You

It was an odd feeling, Buford decided, being in on a secret that no one else wanted to recognize.

Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz. Eccentric CEO of "Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated." Secret ruler of the Tri-State area.

No one really wanted to acknowledge that last bit, but Buford had met the man before he was famous. He knew his goals and talk of 'Evil' weren't just marketing. Even Candace, as wonderful as she was, only wanted to take Doofenshmirtz down because she assumed he was the 'Mysterious Force' she was all worked up about. She didn't really understand the level of authority she was resisting.

And Dr. Doofenshmirtz was definitely in a position of authority, legally or not. Buford knew his haphazard style, his manic need for acknowledgement. His signature was writ large across Danville in its very atmosphere and architecture; sometimes literally.

The man certainly wasn't actually Evil, not even with a little 'e,' much less the capital 'E' he insisted on; Buford knew that much. No one truly evil would give out free meals and help rebuild the city out of his own pocket money, even if he was the one who destroyed it with giant raining meatballs. But that didn't make him a good person either.

Doofenshmirtz was... flawed. Buford's blood called for him to resist him as an authority, but his heart, which pumped that blood saw Doctor D. as a kindred spirit struggling against a world that didn't appreciate him.

Idly, Buford wondered if Doctor D. remembered him. They'd spent most of a day together discussing their world views while trying to turn Mount Danville into a statue of the 'evil' scientist back before he achieved his goals. One line still stuck in his brain "Oh you're not gonna need friends! You're gonna be on top of the heap! It's lonely at the top; but you know? It's the top, so it dulls the ache."

Buford didn't regret his choice. Not that he'd ever be caught admitting it, but there was more to life than power. Poetry, art... friendship; if he had to give them up for power, well that just wasn't a trade that Buford was willing to make. Power didn't make him happy. It couldn't. Rebellion wasn't about gaining power over others, it was about stopping others from controlling you.

There really wasn't anyone that Buford could talk to about his musings. Well, there was Brigitte. He still wrote her occasionally, but there were some things you didn't want to commit to paper and Brigitte was halfway across the world in France.

It was sort of a shame that Candace's rebellion was crushed. She was definitely the sort of person who would believe him about Doctor D, but Buford didn't think her mom was going to let her out of the house until she was eighteen at least.

Every so often Buford thought about calling Doofenshmirtz. He still had the man's number in his phone from when he had worked for him. It had only been three years, he would probably remember him, right? On the other hand, it had been three years, and calling out of the blue seemed... Buford didn't quite feel right about it, though he wasn't sure why.

Maybe not calling was in itself his own form of rebellion. His mom had found out about Phineas and Ferb's summer internships and had been making noises about improving his college resume; as if all the extra-curricular activities he already took weren't enough. It was already hard to keep up with practicing six separate instruments, not to mention his Latin classes. He just didn't have time to do that and an internship. If he called, he'd probably have to ask if Doctor D had space for another intern, and he really didn't have much to offer. Phineas and Ferb were the science experts. There really wasn't much use for the humanities in a mad science organization. By not calling Buford didn't have to acknowledge the reality of the connection. Right now his mom just thought he was friends with a pair of interns. if she knew he'd interned himself for a day before quitting to save his friends... She'd probably be okay with that reasoning? But she'd definitely want to see if he could mend those bridges.

Buford didn't want things to change, but it wasn't really his control, was it? He hadn't really had a chance to hang out with Phineas and Ferb over the past few summers, but hanging out with Isabella and Baljeet wasn't too bad of a consolation prize. He missed the chance to see his friends and he was certainly seeing Candace much less, but he'd been able to get his poetry published under a pseudonym. Change was coming to Danville whether he wanted it to or not. Buford could feel it in the air.

Buford took out his phone and stared at the number that Doctor D. had programmed in. His fingers cycled between the buttons to call and the button to delete.

Buford sighed and placed the phone back in his pocket. Three years on and he still couldn't decide.

Change was coming to Danville, but change was always coming to Danville. There was no point rushing into things now. He had a few more years left to go until he really needed to think about getting a job; the number would be there later.

Buford smiled and lay back, staring up at the sky. Doofenshmirtz was probably right about it being lonely at the top. Buford didn't need to make a decision now. He could still enjoy spending time with his friends. In the future that might change, but the wonderful thing about the future was that no one really truly knew what might be in store.

Buford still had time and he still had options. There was no sense in not making use of both.

The End
 
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Quest: Luck be a Lady- The White House Always Wins
Call it idle curiosity.

Director Riddle was a curious man. A tempered curiosity, of course, you didn't get very far in his profession with a lack of caution. But you were also unlikely to even begin it without that fundamental desire to understand more. Theodore had known he was special from a young age, and his desire to understand that uniqueness had only pushed him further.

He was a busy man, now. Yet between idle politicking, administrative duties, and the occasional experiment he would not trust anyone else with, there were still chances to be alone with his thoughts. Not in the way that most people thought they were, but truly so, a lightless ship upon a shadowed sea. And so his footsteps took him through the offices of his subordinates and peons, his mind prevailing on each of theirs in turn to overlook, to miss, to turn their heads at just the right moment to ensure his walk was undisturbed. And so he ended up… ah.

Interesting.

Whatever had befallen special agent Bob Russ, it still hung over his office. It was empty, untouched, unperceived except to the janitors who dutifully ensured the space remained clear of dust even as their minds slid off the subject of who might once have worked here. An entire life left in stasis, likely never to be resumed. Riddle had never spared the man much thought, and yet a part of him wondered just what had been left behind it all. He flipped the lightswitch, illumination reflecting off his bald head, and pulled out the master key afforded to him. He slowly opened the man's desk. It didn't even squeak.

The usual detritus was inside. Pens, stamps, markers, a spare Colt revolver; what any other operative would keep filed away. His fingertips reached inward and grasped a small, commemorative Mickey Mouse pin. He snorted, and tossed the thing aside. It landed badly, and scraped itself on the edge of a file, scoring a mark across the surface. He ignored it.

He was just about to shut the drawer and continue on his way when he noticed it. A small white box, left tucked in the back of the desk. Not anywhere it would have been hidden, not by the department's standards certainly. Somewhere it would be found.

There was a cipher on top, one Riddle knew was meant to be solved. He did so quickly, piecing together the message imparted. In the most extreme case, a useful bargaining chip. Riddle opened the box, and indeed it was. A computer chip, ensconced in silvery metal. He sifted through his memories for the password he had skimmed off Agent Russ' mind months and months ago, and activated the man's computer. He slid the chip in.

Well. Wasn't that interesting.

He knew the details of the Sands Gala, of course, but to think… the annoying man had been holding out on him the whole time.

The Palladium Chip, perfectly copied with every shred of data inside. Not the cutting edge artifact it once was, but still.

Potentially useful.

Director Riddle pocketed the chip and stood up. It had been worth the visit after all. Now, to return to his offices and plan the next step of-

A shrill beep interrupted his thoughts. Frowning, he pulled an unmarked phone out of his pocket.

"This is an emergency number." He scowled.

"Sir!" A panicked voice on the other end of the phone began, distorted by unknown interference. "Something's gone wrong! We're losing containment, we-"

"Be quiet." Riddle growled, frustrated the digital link prevented him from simply taking the needed information directly from this fool's mind. He did not even recognize their voice. "Where?"

"Sir, Witch Mountain sir. She- she's awake!"

Director Riddle sucked air in through his teeth. One press of the phone ended the call, and the next pulled up his own emergency contacts.

"I need a hypersonic flight to Searchlight. Now."

===

Witch Mountain was the home of many superstitious stories where it rose over the edge of the Mojave Desert. Strange lights, ghastly noises, mysterious disappearances. Many of them were true. Below tons of its rock, the Council for Anomalous Internal Affairs buried anything that could not or would not be allowed in the light of day. Supernatural criminals, alien technology, Wasteland artifacts, and a thousand other things never meant to leave. Riddle was in charge of several of them, and Riddle was a man who believed in rational curiosity.

The tests had been invaluable, providing a wealth of understanding of supernatural processes normally considered beyond humanity and of realms only tangentially related to Earth. Well worth the mess it had taken to bring it in. Now, however, it seemed the mess was only getting larger.

Tense guards showed Riddle to the containment chamber without pausing. It was much the same as he'd left it, albeit with a few new devices for sample acquisition and stimulation that had been refined over the course of testing.

Oh, and there was the small matter of the hairline fractures spread across the entire specimen tube, in a rough map of America's leyline convergences, interlaid with unknowable runic patterns written in a dead tongue.

"How long has it been-"

WHERE IS HE?

Riddle blinked as the words forced themselves into his head.

The viscous black creature inside the chamber slammed itself into the reinforced glass once again. There was no physical noise- it wasn't really there. Instead, Riddle felt the supernatural energy pulse out from the tube, spreading cracks yet further along its surface. A burst of inky tendrils quested towards the edges of the tube before being rebuffed by inscribed warding schemes, only to squirm into long, dangling, scrabbling things like the legs of a spider. Two angry, intelligent eyes watched from over something that looked like a child's drawing of a nose. Even as Riddle watched it grew and shrunk in time with the spiky black protuberances around its head, at one point looking like swoops of oily hair before resolving into the points of a star.

"Who?"

I DIDN'T FORGET!!! she screamed, followed by a low, horrible wail that forced everyone present but Riddle to clap their hands over their ears. IT HURTS! IT HURTS! I'LL RIP HIS HEAD OFF!

"No, you will not, for a multitude of reasons. You there, increase the power to the disruptor and prepare to burst it again on my mar-"

NO!!! she screamed again, and the lights in the room flickered. AAAARGH. I'LL JUST DESTROY YOU FIRST THEN. ALL OF YOU. She declared, and sent a spike of power directly at Riddle, who parried it even as he frowned at the first chip of glass to fall.

"Sir!" One of the technicians declared. "The systems are breaking down. She's destabilizing them faster than we can-"

"It!" Riddle interrupted, gleaning all he needed to from the man's mind and then moving on. "It, for god's sake! Maintain-" Riddle cut himself off as an explosion sounded somewhere in the facility. "Fine then. I think I have enough. I'll just have to cut my losses."

Riddle placed a hand to his head, and concentrated. This would take all of his mental focus. Even as he closed his eyes, another pulse raced through the room, and another and another. The glass tubing finally shattered, leaving the being free for the first time. A tiny smile, barely more than a thin white line, appeared on her face.

FINALLY. She said happily.

The next burst brushed aside the remaining wards like cobwebs. And with that, the tempest disappeared.

One of the guards slowly lowered his arms when the silence did not abate. "What-?"

"It was all in your head." Riddle replied.

WHERE… WHERE DID… YOU ALL GO? The inky thing muttered to itself. It floated there for a moment, uncertain, before flitting to the side in sudden decision. OH WELL. THERE'S MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM! OH, FREE, FREE AT LAST! SO MUCH TO DO, BUT FIRST!

Behind her, reality broke. A gash was ripped in it, and even though it was but a pale shadow reflected in the Mindscape, Riddle could not repress a twinge of concern at what might be on the other side. The creature slipped through it and the rip snapped shut, sending a gust across the unreal.

Director Riddle brushed off his white suit, ended his mental camouflage, and took stock. A destroyed runic array, a lost specimen, and…

Oh, intriguing.

While the rift had closed behind the creature as it left, an… 'echo' remained. Riddle examined it with active fascination. Now this was a potential treasure trove. The imbeciles newly under his employ had no idea what a threat the unseen world could be. Any opportunity to study its workings needed to be taken, any resource exploited, lest unknown danger come from the worst place. He lifted a hand and began to analyze. It would require tests, of course, and a redoubling of safety measures. And yet…

"I can use this."

===

Beyond the veil, she slunk along unseen roads. HEHEH. HEHEHEHEHEHE. She chuckled to herself. Her grin grew wider than it should have. SWEET DREAMS, MR. RUSS…

===

The US Government has gained a copy of the Palladium Chip.

RER=8 Another faction discovers a link to…Someplace Else.

She's Out.

Random Event Rolls have changed.
 
So... the dream Queen escaped then? That's bad.

What's the Palladium chip to us as a threat? does it include Mirage's misdeeds?

We're on the Clock now. We need to get Russ before she does.
 
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the occasional experiment he would not trust anyone else with
That right there is bad science.
His fingertips reached inward and grasped a small, commemorative Mickey Mouse pin. He snorted, and tossed the thing aside. It landed badly, and scraped itself on the edge of a file, scoring a mark across the surface.
I'm not sure what timeline you think you're on Riddle but round these parts that pin is worth more than you in both emotional and economic value.
The Palladium Chip, perfectly copied with every shred of data inside. Not the cutting edge artifact it once was, but still.
Sure.
"It!" Riddle interrupted, gleaning all he needed to from the man's mind and then moving on. "It, for god's sake!
Is he being a jerk or is this a 'naming them gives them power' situation.
RER=8 Another faction discovers a link to…Someplace Else.
Considering that on paper Riddle works with someone who has directions to this someplace. This will end poorly.
Bring it. You ain't even RED lady.
 
Okay, on second thought, with that description the odds of this being Nerissa just plummeted through the ground and then kept going some. Can anyone think of female telepathic ooze monsters in Disney canon?
 
I think I just figured it out.

The Nightmare King is a character from Little Nemo that rules the nightmare realm. He can turn into a black blob monster.

I think the dream queen is his wife/opposite/whatever.

I think that makes Little Nemo, the dream realm, and the nightmare realm part of the quest now.
 
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I think I just figured it out.

The Nightmare King is a character from Little Nemo that rules the nightmare realm. He can turn into a black blob monster.

I think the nightmare queen is his wife.

I think that makes Little Nemo, the dream realm, and the nightmare realm part of the quest now.
It would certainly fit, but Little Nemo isn't a Disney property in any way I can tell
 
Hmm. It says distributed by Disney.

But that doesn't really matter.

Isn't that forest area in Michigan from a non Disney property? Studio ghibli or something.
 
Hmm. It says distributed by Disney.

But that doesn't really matter.

Isn't that forest area in Michigan from a non Disney property? Studio ghibli or something.
The Toxic Jungle isn't in Doofquest (though it is in normal Gridlocked), Studio Ghibli's movies are distributed by Disney in the United States, and from what I can tell Little Nemo was distributed by Hemdale Film Corporation.
 
I can try to guess at what she's not: She's not Doubtfinder, an evil figment of Dreamfinder's mind that gains self-awareness, because he's male-presenting and also Dreamfinder is fine and well here; She's not the Klimpaloon, those live in the himalayas and are magic talking pants; She's not the Nightmare Beast, that's a weird monster from Ducktales that lacks psychic powers; She's probably not the Wraith, that was a bit villain in Once Upon a Time with barely any characterization; She's not Zhan Tiri, that's from Tangled the Series, which isn't Gridlocked; And that's pretty much the A-Z in the category "monsters" of Disney Wiki. She might be an OC just like Russ is.
 
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