Chapter Text
Perry had been gone for a while. It wasn't clear why, but he had been saving up the vacation days, so Major Monogram politely asked Heinz just to stay harmless until the platypus came back. Heinz agreed, albeit discouraged, and thought it'd be a good time to catch up on the newest Adult-edition Ducky Momo Comics while he had it, not without his good friend, piracy, that is. Nobody's paying that much to read some gore comics with ducks in them. He was sure it wouldn't count as a future ass-beating from his nemesis, so he leaned back in his chair without a care in the world while the first comic began to download. It was basically harmless, so there's no way Francis would care, right?
In the OWCA building, Major Monogram folds and unfolds a paper airplane with some document papers, sitting unenthusiastically with half-lidded eyes and a slightly unshaven stache. He hadn't had anything to do since Perry started his break. Apparently, a lot of villains were also taking the opportunity, actually, to get a life; there were already 4 who had quit entirely, a 5th regularly calling in to consider it. Sure, other villains were an event, but Heinz's antics were always... Entertaining, something so pathetic that it's cute to wait for and watch. The first time Carl came over that day, it was at 8:00 in the morning. Francis turned upon his shoulder being tapped, met with that anxious pout that always meant something bad had happened, and usually it was something Heinz-related. His eyes sparkled open, and his mouth opened before Carl's could.
"Carl, what is it? Is it Heinz? Did he do something?" Carl took note of Francis' uncharacteristic joy at the topic, and slowly shook his head.
"No, sir... It's... There's a new villain that we need to register." Carl mumbled that Carl mumble, and Francis groaned, leaning back in his chair, turning slightly.
"Paperwork... Again... Just week after week of it," He leaned forward again, looking at Carl in silence for a moment much too long. "Are you sure Heinz didn't do anything? Make sure to look closely at the paperwork to make sure it's not him, okay? I need to know." Carl nodded, and Francis turned back to his desk, pretending to look through papers. Carl almost left, but thought it wouldn't hurt to pry a little.
"Sir, if I may... Why do you suddenly seem to be so eager to hear about Dr. Doofenshmirtz?" Carl tilted his head as he asked, and Francis froze in his seat, thumb underneath a page about something forgotten years ago. Why was he so eager? Why wouldn't he be?!
"Carl, I've been burning for an interesting case for almost a month now with Perry gone. Nobody else is doing it for me," Francis spins back around. "Y'know, sure, sometimes the 'Bombs in the sewer' call can be Interesting if you play your cards right, but nobody else would think of a... a mayo-inator! A lice-inator! A... Lice-in-your-mayo-inator! Only Heinz has the creativity for something more than the 50th call to bomb control." Francis rants with a growl, and Carl nods along, somewhat confused.
"So... It's just boring without him, then?" Carl confirms to himself. "I guess that... Makes sense, Dr. Doofenshmirtz is pretty creative-"
"I guess he is kind of pretty, yeah..." Francis mutters, rubbing his moustache. Carl's eyes widen in a sort of horror for a moment.
"W... What. Sir, that isn't what I said at all... Are you-" Carl was cut off by Francis pushing him harshly, but not enough to fall.
"Don't you have paperwork to do? Get on with it!" Francis turns around to his desk with a harsh flutter of a few papers, and Carl nods as he turns away, the thought never leaving his mind. Francis' object of attraction.
Cut to the present. That same bored expression falling onto his features, eyes looking for something to grab onto and fidget with to kill time, and its evil brother, boredom. How was there a building so big with nothing to do? It was an impossible feat to have something so plain. He looked at the screen in front of him, tapping it uselessly a few times and hoping it'd turn on for once to let him play a game, call an agent, anything. The monitor remained a mocking black; all he could see from it was his own expression. Was that really what he looked like? How did he let his hair grow out that far? He looked like one of those Pinterest teens mixed with the stereotypical homeless man from every boomer comic he’s seen on Facebook. Unfortunately, for the look, it’s not good for the major of an extremely important organization. How did he get like this, anyway? Usually, he’d be on call with Perry and see his own face in the corner of the screen. If he got too disheveled, he’d make note and do as much as he could until he looked right again, but the calls he got recently were all the boring ones on the normal phone; he hadn't seen his face in a while, and it was all because of that damn platypus. At this point, people were only villains for the animal nemesis rather than actually committing crimes, and it showed.
Carl stumbles back into the room, unconcerned, but whatever he had still seemed important.
“Sir, Dr. Doofenshmirtz has been… Pirating Ducky Momo comics? I know it’s small, but I think you’d want to know with your recent obsession.” He adjusted his glasses, looking through a stack of papers held to his chest. “He’s currently downloading volume 3, or, well, last time I checked, he was.” Carl’s grip on the stack of papers shook along with him, Francis’s hands gripping his shoulders.
“WHAT?!” He shouted, leaving Carl extremely concerned for his own safety and his boss’s sanity. “Carl, that’s 30 dollars being lost for the Ducky Momo producers!” He exaggerates each word with a movement of his hand, being pinched in a claw-like shape. Carl nods slowly.
“Yes… But, sir, the creators do make millions a day from merch alone. I don’t think 30 dollars really matters all that much.” Carl adds, leaving Francis in his own personal shock, slowly releasing his shoulder. “YOU have pirated before, too, remember?”
“Shut up, Carl, this is Heinz Lovell Doofenshmirtz we’re talking about; he could be using those comics to kill someone,” Francis whispers dramatically, Carl staring at him in horror, concern, and mostly, fear.
“I… He’s using digital comics to… Kill people?” Carl confirms, “That… That’s not how that works. You can’t kill someone with a digital copy of a Ducky Momo comic.”
“YET,” Francis adds, deciding the conversation would be better spent if he picked up papers during it, “Carl, you don’t know what he’s capable of; we need to keep an eye out.” He insists, flapping papers in Carl’s face as he picks more up.
“Sir. Heinz has never killed ANYONE. You and I have witnessed him crying because he thought his hamster had died.” Carl joins Francis on the floor, helping him pick up documents. He had gotten pretty good at picking papers up off the ground at this point. “I don’t think we need to keep this case. There’s a bunch of paperwork to do, and Perry isn’t in at the moment.”
“You’re right, we’ll go there ourselves!” Francis shoved papers at Carl that he wasn’t ready to catch, scattering more pages on the floor all over again. He stood up and made his way to the office exit, leaving the intern picking up pages. As much as Carl wanted to discourage this idea of Francis’s, he knew he’d get nowhere. He never gets anywhere trying to convince that man of anything. Carl was just glad Francis didn’t believe in anything inherently evil, which helped his work. He sighed as he stacked more papers on top of each other, but it was time better spent than if he were to help Francis with whatever it was that he was planning.