doofenstrudel: (Default)
[No one in Mayfield had warned him about this. Oh sure, there was that phone call, but it didn't really make any sense! It was probably just something misdirected, and it had fallen out of Doofenshmirtz's head immediately.

But one moment he was coming home from work and the next he was disoriented and sitting up in an unfamiliar bed while wearing a tux that was a little too tight at the waist.]


What in the heck is this?!

...is that salmon? I think that's salmon.

[It was after a long day of work. He was hungry for something that wasn't a pastry. Red sheets and suspicious bed shapes (and bed partners) were ignored so he could confirm just what smelled so good, over there.

He was already unbuttoning the tuxedo jacket.]


This is probably a trap. But oooh! Little green peas!
doofenstrudel: (Bwahaha!)
[Action A - Friday the 19th - 457 Stone Street, morning]

[Doofenshmirtz bolts out of bed with such force that the blankets are thrown to the side of the room. Gasping, flailing, he pats himself down to assure himself that he's fine. Head, shoulders, knees, toes, guts, all of them are actually in place... but he's not quite ready to be relieved yet.]

...I'm alive.

[Still in his pyjamas, staring blankly ahead and trying to process the previous day's trauma, he makes his way down into the kitchen. He's hungry. He's thirsty. Unfortunately, someone had apparently already brought the milk in, setting it on the kitchen counter. Convenient! In his semi-drowsy post-ressurection daze, he pours himself a big glass and downs it.]

I'm alive. Alive! ALIVE, I TELL YOU! Ahahahahah!

[Looks like the guy got the hormone free milk.]

[Action B - Same Day - 457 Stone Street, outside, day]

[The garage at 457 Stone Street is wide-open, and there's a horrible ruckus coming from inside it. Objects are being tossed out into the driveway with gusto, and then are retrieved minutes later by a dirty, raving Doofenshmirtz. Sometimes there is hammering. Sometimes the crackle of welding. Occasionally, there's the KER-ZAP of electricity.]

Come on! DO SOMETHING! Arc! Spin up! Work! WORK! WHY AREN'T YOU WORKING!??!

[He's hitting a crudely-constructed metal box with a wrench, over and over and over again.]

[Action C - Same Day - Phone]

I... I am hopeless. Hopeless!

[He sobs into the receiver]

It doesn't work! I've... I've lost my touch! I can construct frames, shells, yes, and wiring really is only wiring and switches are so simple but... but what good is a big red button that does nothing when you press it?!

[A pause, while he blows his nose noisily.]

They took it away from me! My genius! THEY ROBBED ME OF MY GENIUS!!! How am I going to build a Curdleinator and save us all from this horrible place without my genius?!?! THOSE BASTARDS! I WILL MAKE THEM PAY!!!

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Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz

December 2011

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