Mission Log of the Diabolical Baby Brigade

 As Logged By: Agent Chase   I'm dressed in fancy bows Atop a great fake rose. Family picture day is here. Am I supposed to cheer?   I'd rather focus on the flowerbed Than the camera straight ahead. There seems to be a cow, That has learned to meow.    Agent West is in for a diabolical surprise.     His family may be vacationing on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere.  That doesn't mean he had to trick his parents into convincing my parents to do their annual Christmas picture on that farm, too.   Now, look at me!   I'm in a dress that is puffier than a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.  A ribbon here and a ribbon there, not to mention the one in my non existent hair.   "Alright, I want you two on either side of the rose and your baby placed in the bed inside it," the photographer declares as he waves his hands.  One for my parents to follow and one, apparently, to direct me.     Really?   PPPHHHHHFFFFFFR...

 As Logged By:  Agent West   They hear honking in their sleep. This baby hasn't made a peep. How am I getting the blame For the feathered fiends' shouting game?   Honking, honking all night long. As loud as a banging gong.  There they go flying away. Now let's get someone to neigh.    "HONK!  HONK!  HONK!"   From the bed, Mommy flips over the edge and Daddy spirals down the side.   "West!  Stop that!"  Mommy shouts.   All the while, I'm in my crib with mouth hanging open and not a diabolical deed in sight.  How can Mommy assume I honked?  I'm not a goose.   But, there are two standing right outside.   "HONK!  HONK!  HONK!"   Mommy tumbles onto the floor and Daddy goes airborne.   "West, that's enough!"  Mommy screeches, her facing scrunching as she punches her pillow back in place.   "Have you taken away his toys?"  Daddy groggily asks.   "He doesn't have any...

 As Logged By: Agent Rose   Mommy's stuck fighting lumps That look somewhat like moldy bumps. But, it does smell quite delightful And I'm not yet full.   Down the hatch should they go? What if it tastes like old Play-doh? I'll have Mommy taste a bit. Hmm... Someone's having a fit.    What on Earth is Mommy making?   It better not be meant for eating!   Gooey, brown lumps keep dropping every time she lifts her spoon.     SPLAT, SPLUT, GLUNK!   Yuk.   "I can't get these lumps to dissolve!"  Mommy exclaims and gives the lumpy yuk another swift stir.  "What am I doing wrong?  Look, Rosie, what do you think?"   Before I can protest, Mommy picks me up.  Over to the stove she brings me to stare down into a pot of moldy bumps and steam.   Yuk.    "Can you believe what's happened to my gravy?"  Mommy asks and my eyes bulge.   That can't be gravy!   "I know, I know.  You're just...

 As Logged By: Agent Chase   I'm here to splash and play Like I'm doing water ballet. Bubbles flying everywhere. Until Mommy falls off her chair!   Splash, splash, splash galore. There goes Mommy on the floor. Wait, did I just yawn? Oh, poop.  The water's gone.    Slap!  Smack!     SPLASH!!!!   "Chase," Mommy huffs.  "You're driving me crazy."     She tries to give her very best glare, but I can't help laughing when her face's covered with bubbles like a bath time teddy bear.  As soon as she wipes them away, I splash the water again.   "Stop!  You're supposed to be calming down."   "Did you use the lavender bottle?"  Daddy asks and ducks his head in to check.   "Of course, I did," Mommy seethes.  "Can't you smell it?"   Smell it?   I give a sniff and, yes, there is a nice lavender scent.  How thoughtful of Mommy to make my bath time smell so lovely.  Should I...

 As Logged By: Agent West   Nigerian Dwarfs are so delightful Their colors are such a sightful! Have you heard the diabolical tale, The one involving a small hay bale?   Bugsy is in a tizzy! Worse than itty, bitty Lizzie. Slam!  Wham!  Bash!  Crash! No treats?  Well, gotta dash.    As if the chicken suit wasn't enough, now this diabolical dude is dressed in overalls and a hat made of scruff.   "Ah, smell that country air!"   All I can smell, Mommy, is the stink of animal poopy.   "Which horse is she going to be showing?"  Mommy asks the farmer, whom I assume is named Ted.   "That one over there," the farmer, that I've nicknamed Ted, answers.  He points at a tall horse, bigger than the stink of a stink bomb three thousand!  The dark grey steed lifts his head and poses.     Leading Mommy away from the horses, this farmer, who's very possibly named Ted, brings us to a group of animals that are as...

 As Logged By:  Agent Rose   The agents want a diabolical fright. I'm looking for a diabolical candy night! I'll use this costume to the max, Even it this chicken, 'quacks.'   Cousin Molly is up in arms. Eight legs, in fact.  Oh, look!  Kiwi farms! Ninjas, Ghostbusters, and more. Funny outfits and cuteness galore!   "Trunk or treat!"   "Quack!"   All the grownups start to laugh.  "Rose, chickens peep, not quack."   Ah, that may be, dear, dear Mommy.  But, look at my bag and look at the others.  Look at the fistfuls of candy being dumped inside.  More and more they pour.  All the while, they're too silly with laughter.   "Quack!"   Agent Chase and Agent West may want to pout.  And I get it, I understand.  We look abominably goofy dressed up as the three little chickies.     Three mounds of feathers, that's what our Mommies have turned us into...   BUT!   While one chick...

 As Logged By: Agent Chase   The mommies have dressed us as chickens! Meanwhile, the cold in my head thickens.  All I want to do is sleep! I'm not interested in making a peep.   Trunk or treat is the new in I don't even know where to begin. Sniffle, sniffle, snot, snot. Inspector Gadget is the hot spot.    How grand...   "Achoo!"   This baby is, now, dressed like a chicken.   "Achoo!"   From what I hear, Agent West and Agent Rose are too.  Apparently, our mommies all got together and thought it would be cute, or funny... cute and funny to dress us babies as one, big flock.   This calls for a serious diabolical plan...   "Achoo!"   Maybe some other time.   "Achoo!"    "Uh oh.  Sounds like someone has the sniffles."   This is more than sniffles!  How can a diabolical mastermind think when there's a vise squeezing around her head?   Well, a vise and a hood designed to look like a chicke...