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| - -- Flyleaf, "Stand" A lot has happened since the kids and I were kidnapped, tortured, and almost murdered by a second dimension version of Bobbi. For starters, the kids don’t remember any of it. They remembered our first trip to the second dimension and they remembered my secret. They had to forget. I don’t doubt that even if they hadn’t remembered everything about my double life and OWCA they still would have wanted to forget. They were just kids, but they had been kidnapped, tortured. They even killed vampires. That is something no child should have to live with, even if they are Phineas and Ferb.
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| abstract
| - -- Flyleaf, "Stand" A lot has happened since the kids and I were kidnapped, tortured, and almost murdered by a second dimension version of Bobbi. For starters, the kids don’t remember any of it. They remembered our first trip to the second dimension and they remembered my secret. They had to forget. I don’t doubt that even if they hadn’t remembered everything about my double life and OWCA they still would have wanted to forget. They were just kids, but they had been kidnapped, tortured. They even killed vampires. That is something no child should have to live with, even if they are Phineas and Ferb. Also, OWCA recently sent an anonymous letter to the cops explaining the serial killings. Since Bobbi-2 had killed several teenagers in the other dimension, those teenagers’ other dimension selves were also killed, but there had been no proof of them actually dying. They dropped dead. So OWCA told the cops that these kids had a rare, non-contagious disease that caused all their vital organs to stop, without any symptoms. We told them that it is very unlikely for anyone else to contract the disease. It wasn’t our best cover story, but they, and the families of the dead teenagers, bought it. Ever since our near-death experience, everything went back to normal. Phineas, Ferb, and Jessie are back to being the fun-loving, crazy kids I’m glad to call part of my host family. But something’s not right. I can feel it. Call me paranoid; it’s part of the job. But there’s no such thing as perfect, and lately, things have been too perfect.
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