How they believe the first living thing they see is their mother?
Perry knows that isn’t true. He doesn’t remember much (he was very young at the time), but the first person he ever saw was Carl.
And the first thing he ever heard was “Carl! Why are you standing there! I’m supposed to be the first person newborn Agents see!”
((Requested in an Ask by Fanfic-Inator795))
Following up on my last post in this series, here I analyze the academic lives of the high school and college kids in the B plot. I was going to do all the teens, but I finished these three before completing the others and decided it was better to share this progress than hoard the results until that portion could be completed.
(I apologize in advance for speaking at great length about Vanessa Doofenshmirtz.)
The Daily Doof’s recent tweet reminded me of a headcanon that has been floating around in my head for some time. I haven’t done the calculations to see if this is mathematically plausible, but even if it isn’t the idea is cute.
One day Perry shows up at DEI a bit earlier than usual to find Heinz decorating the lab with streamers and balloons, a table set for tea and pastries, music playing in the background- the whole nine yards. This startles Perry because he knows it isn’t his birthday, and that Heinz doesn’t celebrate his own birthday in this manner anymore, and their nemeversary had only just happened last month (hadn’t it?). The monotreme is stumped and can’t figure out what event or date he’s forgotten this time.
This is when Heinz notices Perry, and starts to get nervous. “Perry the Platypus, I wasn’t expecting you! And by “wasn’t expecting you” I mean “actually expecting you, but not quite so early!’”
"In 1996, I was with Clinton when he went up to Keene, New Hampshire to campaign. Picturesque town square. I wandered off and went into the local diner. Asked the woman behind the counter if Clinton had been in there four years before, during the hotly contested 1992 primary. She replied: “Oh, yes. All the candidates were here. In fact, the waitresses all got together and agreed that we would vote as a bloc for the candidate who didn’t just shake hands with the owner. Every one of them came in and shook hands just with the owner. All except Clinton. He came in, shook hands with the owner, shook hands with all the waitresses, and then went into the kitchen and shook hands with the busboys and cooks. We all voted for him."
— How to avoid getting 47-percent’d. (via cheatsheet)