Disclaimer: I don't own Phineas and Ferb or Futurama.

This story was written as a birthday present for my younger brother to combine his favorite TV shows. It is meant to be read as an extended episode of Phineas and Ferb.

Enjoy and don't forget to review.

It's a beautiful day in Danville. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and a disembodied band is finishing up with a last "dah-duh," and a strummed guitar chord.

Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher are sitting under the tree in their backyard. Phineas is holding a wrench in his hands and he's looking at it excitedly, as if it had just transformed into a left-handed plumber's wrench. It hadn't, though. It is still just an ordinary right-handed wrench.

"Hey Ferb," Phineas exclaims, turning to look at his stepbrother. True to his habitual silence, Ferb's eyebrows rise in response.

"Isn't it so cool how, despite hundreds of years of technological advancements, we still use some of the same tools as our great, great, great, great grandparents did? I wonder if they'll still be using wrenches and hammers and stuff in the future." Phineas babbles.

Ferb nods with a soft squeaking sound, like door hinges that needed to be oiled.

"That's it!" Phineas jumps up, triumphantly holding the wrench above his head. "Hey Ferb! Time to dust off that time machine! I know what we're going to do today!"

"Hey Phineas," Isabella chimes as she enters their backyard. "Whatcha doin'?"

"We're going to redesign a time machine so we can see what kind of tools they use in the future." Ferb answers. Phineas' and Isabella's jaws drop. Ferb looks at them.

"What?" He defends in his strong British accent. "You always answer, so I thought I would this time."

Phineas shrugs, deciding that his brother has a point.

"Alrighty then." Isabella smiles, "I'll go get Buford and Baljeet."

As she speaks, Baljeet walks into the backyard.

"Oh, hello Isabella," he greets, "Hello Phineas. Hello Ferb. Have either of you seen Buford anywhere? He missed our nine o'clock noogie session." The Indian boy is getting more and more frantic as he speaks in his pronounced accent, and now he is waving his arms around wildly. "It is not like him to miss a noogie session! Oh, Phineas! What if something terrible happened?"

Phineas puts an arm around his friend. "Don't worry, Baljeet. Buford is a tough guy. I'm sure he'll show up later."

"Speaking of missing things, where's Perry?" Isabella asks, noticing that the Flynn-Fletcher pet is absent.

Phineas shrugs again. "Maybe Buford's with him. He's a platypus, though. They don't do much."

"Neither does Buford," Baljeet mumbles sourly.

Perry presses his foot against the side of the tree. The ground opens under him, and he pulls on his fedora as he slides down. When he lands in front of a door, he is surprised to see a sign reading, "No entry without tuxedos."

Shrugging, Perry reaches into his hat and pulls out a tuxedo and a pair of dark sunglasses. He enters and is immediately blinded by the flashing of cameras and loud music. It was a runway.

Well, there had been weirder entrances.

Perry struts down the runway towards the doorway at the other end of the massive room packed with people. He pauses at the end of the runway, posing while letting out his signature, "gajkhasdfsa" sound. A group of women in the audience squeal, and Perry winks at them. Then he makes his way into his secret headquarters.

"Ah, good morning, Agent P." Major Monogram greets as Perry throws off the tuxedo and sunglasses. "I see you've discovered our secret male-model runway entrance. I commend you on your mastery of Blue Steel. Very impressive for a platypus."

Anyway, Agent P, we have a special mission for you today. In an effort to promote human-animal cooperation, the Organization Without a Cool Acronym, or OWCA, is starting a new adolescent agent program. As our top agent, we need you to train the new recruits. Agent Silent G will be covering for you today with Dr. Doofenschmirtz. He said something about blogs and blown covers, and anyways, get down here, Agent P! Monogram out!"

Perry's hand shoots up to his forehead in a salute as the screen turns black. Then, he presses a few buttons on the console and the floor under his chair folds up, forming a small helicopter that flies out through the opening in the roof.

"Wow, really?" Candace asks, lying on her bed with her phone at her ear. "You had to wait for three hours?"

"Three days?!" Candace exclaims, sitting up in shock. "I couldn't wait that long for anything! What? No! That was way different. It was a super-rare, once-in-a-lifetime, blink-and-you-miss-it Ducky Momo collector's edition auction!"

Jenny's voice answers, and Candace blushes. "No I'm not too old for Ducky Momo!"

The sound of a power drill rings through Candace's open window. "Sorry Jenny. Looks like I'm going to have to call you back. Good luck saving the endangered star-nosed mole!"

She hangs up, and then runs to the window. "That's funny," she wonders aloud. She swears that the boys had already built that time machine at least twice before, including that one time at a museum where that kid stole a pterodactyl, but apparently yelling had been a worse crime. That was a weird place.

Candace makes her way to the backyard. Cutting straight to the point, she demands, "Haven't you guys already built this thing?"

She points to the time machine warily, remembering the time it sent her to the past and she had to face dinosaurs and wore a turtle as a helmet. Phineas turns towards her and waves.

"Oh, hey Candace. You're right, we have built this before. But we need to make some adjustments because this model can't travel far in into the future."

"You're going into the future," Candace asks suspiciously. "Why? I mean, isn't there enough stuff for you to do around here?"

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you. But Ferb and Isabella and I want to see what kind of tools they use a thousand years from now."

Excitedly, he begins to ramble. "I mean, sure, they might still be using hammers and nails and wrenches, but maybe they use futuristic particle colliders or telekinetic goggles or something! We have to check it out! You wanna come?"

Candace shakes her head. "No way. I'm staying right here, in the year 2013."

Isabella's voice calls out, "Pull Baljeet! Pull!"

"I am trying! I was not built for heavy lifting!" Baljeet responds, grunting as he tugs at a piece of metal.

"Hey, where's Buford?" Candace asks curiously. "Isn't he normally around for this kind of thing?"

"We think he'll show up at some point," Isabella answers, pulling her welding mask away from her face and shutting off her blowtorch. "Weren't you and Stacy going to the movies today? Where's she?"

"She cancelled last night. She said she had to organize her sock drawer." Candace replies, shrugging. "Well, you boys have fun with your little adventure. I'll just be here;" she pauses, "Waiting."

When the boys turn away, she pulls out her phone and sets it to video mode. She whispers, "Waiting for proof to show mom. You boys are sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" she takes an enormous breath, "BUSTED!"

Meanwhile, Ferb taps his hammer against the top of the newly refurbished time machine. The light on top glows blue. The new design is a closed capsule, rather than the open-air model, and all the wood has been replaced with metal. On the inside, there are three rows of seats, complete with arm rests, cloth seat covers, cup holders, and most importantly, gum dispensers. Ferb gives a thumbs up and somewhere in the background; a bell dings at the same time.

Completely coincidentally, of course. There is no correlation between the two events whatsoever.

"Alright guys. We're good to go." Phineas announces happily, pressing a button on the remote control. His friends pile inside, and he takes a seat in front of the control panel. "First stop, the year-"

He cuts off when Ferb nudges him and makes a wiggly, uncomfortable gesture.

"Oh yeah, sorry Ferb." He presses a button and the capsule door opens, letting Ferb run out. "Ferb had to use the bathroom."

After a few minutes, Ferb returns and straps himself in.

"All good?" Phineas asks.

Ferb gives him a thumbs up, and a bell dings inside the capsule. Again, completely coincidentally. Lots of sounds happen randomly inside a time machine. It has nothing to do with any sort of hand gesture that may have occurred. They weren't related. At all! Sheesh.

"First stop, three-thousand thirteen!"

"As members of OWCA, you have a lot of responsibilities. Fighting evil is your mission, first and foremost. But you will also be representatives of your species, working towards cooperation and new understanding between humans and animals."

Major Monogram turns, facing the line of teenagers in front of him. "Any questions before we begin recruits?"

Buford raises his hand. "When do we get to beat stuff up?"

"In good time," Major Monogram responds. "But first, you need training. Ah, yes. You in the back?"

"What species are you?"

Major Monogram groans. "A human. As I have mentioned before. Several times. You, what?"

"Do we have to wear the fedora?" Stacey asks miserably.

"Yes. The fedora is the most crucial part of an agent's inventory."

"But it's so ugly!" She complains. Major Monogram looks around uncomfortably, just as Agent P crashes through the wall.

"Ah, Agent P. Excellent timing. Recruits, this is Agent P, our top agent here at OWCA. He will be leading your training today."

Buford jumps up and down excitedly. "Hey, I know that guy! Perry! Perry! Over here, it's me, Buford!"

Agent P brings out a whistle and blows loudly. The sound rings through the training room, silencing all the chatter. He points to Buford, and then points downward.

"Aww, man." Buford grumbles, before beginning to do pushups. Agent P blows the whistle again, and everyone else starts grumbling as they have to do pushups too.

"Glad I'm not an agent," Carl comments to Monty Monogram, watching as Perry makes the recruits run through an obstacle course. A banana smashes against the wall, followed by a potato and a pineapple. "Very glad."

"You said it," Monty agrees as he types into the computer.