A/N: Did you ever wonder why Otto didn't find Odd Todd when he scanned the museum room for oddness?

Yeah. Todd wondered that, too.

--------

"Come on, come on, come on..."

Odd Todd closed his eyes and grimaced as he was enveloped in a flash of light. Opening them again, he turned around the gadget he'd just shot himself with to get a look at its screen.

3 colored pencils. 17 books. 5 clamshells. 1 computer. 1 person.

Same results as last time.

FLASH!

And the time before that.

FLASH!

And the time before that.

3 colored pencils. 17 books. 5 clamshells. 1 computer. 1 person.

Every time he tried, it was always the same.

Todd growled in irritation, slamming the device down onto his quilt-patterned bed.

"What am I doing WRONG?!" he demanded of the air, clenching his fists and glaring at nothing in particular. The air didn't answer.

He wished it had. That would've been odd. He could've used a little extra oddness right about now.

Half-muttering, half-snarling something to himself, he sat down on his bed next to that infernal gadget and folded his arms.

Why won't it work? WHY WON'T IT WORK?!

He stared hard at the triangular scanner, but it only blinked its lights in reply.

It has to be broken.

There was a chance of that. An admittedly slight chance, but a chance nonetheless. Odd Squad agents were so careless with their gadgets sometimes.

Thump.

He grabbed the gadget and set it down on his desk, probably with a little bit more force than necessary. It bleeped, almost as if in protest.

The desk drawer rattled as he opened it, and he swiftly pulled out his usual gadget-altering supplies. Screwdrivers, pliers, extra circuitboards...

He opened the gadget up and checked every part and wire twice. Then a third time. Nothing was out of order.

Well, at least it looked like nothing was out of order. He was no scientist, but clearly something was wrong with it.

For the next half-hour, the villain busied himself replacing nearly every part of the gadget. New shape circuits, new connectors, new wiring... After finishing, he studied the small device with a critical eye and finally decided to scratch a tiny, inconspicuous 43 on the bottom of the handle.

It was Gadget #43, after all. The regular number had worn off with years of consecutive use.

That done, Todd stood up from his desk, already feeling his anticipation rising.

It'll work now. It HAS to work now!

The self-proclaimed villain picked up the gadget, and quietly walked to the middle of his room. Various posters decorated the walls, and by the quilted bed that was just as colorful as his suit sat a mismatched pair of slippers, lying in an unceremonious pile. The ceiling fan hummed lowly overhead, and it seemed the entire room was waiting in anticipation.

It'll work.

...Right?

Instantly angry at himself for being doubtful, Todd glared at the gadget, whirled it quickly around, and pulled the trigger.

ZZZT.

With a flash, the beam enveloped him, and he tensed a bit at the buzzing feeling it gave him. But just as quickly as it'd started scanning him up and down, it finished, and the invention began humming quietly in his hands.

The room went silent once again, and Todd opened his eyes, breathing slowly and willing himself to stay calm. Carefully, very carefully, he turned the gadget back around.

Loading... the screen read.

"Come on," he growled at it, though with bated breath.

Letter by letter, the results appeared on the screen.

3... c o l o r e d⠀p e n c i l s . 
1 7... b o o k s .
5... c l a m s h e l l s.
1... c o m p u t e r .

He inhaled quietly. Deep breaths. Deeeep breaths, Todd.

. . .

The reading didn't continue, which made the boy growl and shake the gadget forcefully. There was a tiny click, and the screen continued typing the results.

1... p e r s o n .

Todd stared at the screen, hard, and if the gadget were a person or even an odd creature, it would've cowered in fear, thoroughly intimidated into offering him the answer he wanted.

However, a gadget is neither human nor an odd creature, and it didn't seem intimidated in the slightest.

Odd numbers only, the gadget deduced.

. . .

No other oddness detected.

It took him a moment—maybe even a couple moments, as Odd Todd slowly furrowed his eyebrows at the screen of the Oddness-Detectinator—but however slowly, realization sank in.

No. Nonononono. Nope. There's not just odd numbers. There's me. I am odd. I AM ODD. I'M ODD, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SCRAP METAL—!

Letting out a loud yell of anger and utter frustration—at himself, this infernal gadget, and Odd Squad in general—Todd snarled and spun on his heel in a jerky half-circle, before slamming the gadget down as hard as he possibly could.

It made a loud crash as it landed, bouncing slightly on his hard wooden floor, but to his disappointment, it didn't shatter into fifty-odd pieces and fizzle into nonexistence. It didn't even seem to break.

As much as he wanted to stomp on it then and there, or blast it with his purloined Puddinginator or his hijacked Halfway-into-Next-Weekinator, something made him merely pause, and he didn't. Instead, he only stared at the blue-and-white gadget, getting a very sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

...What... if it's right?

Of course it wasn't right. He wasn't just an odd villain with an odd theme—he was a very odd villain with oddness itself as his theme. This didn't make sense.

It doesn't make sense!

He clenched his teeth, face emotionless. Though somewhere inside he was angry and upset all in one, he suddenly felt drained.

He only stared distantly at the offending gadget, clenching and unclenching his fists for what felt like hours. Though, it couldn't have been more than a few moments, because it was then that he just barely caught the tap-tap-tap sound of feet approaching the foot of the staircase downstairs. Like a flash, he snatched up the gadget again, holding it against himself just in case.

"Todd?" A familiar female voice rang up from downstairs. Even having heard her coming, he instinctively froze, trying to recall anything he'd been doing that might've been a problem. "Is everything okay up there?"

"Yeah, Mom!" he yelled back, but only after taking a few slow breaths to calm himself down. He slumped against the wall, trying to force the seething edge out his voice. "Just having a major identity crisis, that's all," he muttered at the broken gadget in his hands.

The unharmed gadget merely blinked, oblivious to the trouble it was causing.

His mother didn't sound convinced. "If you say so..." she replied, and Todd gripped the gadget more tightly, because it sounded like she was contemplating coming up to check in on his room. After a moment, however, he heard her merely sigh. "Be careful, Todd."

He forced a half-smirk into his voice, relieved and guilty all at once. "Aren't I always?"

A quiet chuckle.

There was a pause, before he heard the tap-tap-tap of his mother walking away again. Todd, upon realizing he'd been holding his breath, relaxed noticeably and blew it out.

He loosened his death grip on the scan-inator gadget, glancing down and turning it over in his hands.

I've stolen and chewed 957 wads of gum from a museum. I've made misleading graphs and given people lemon heads. I've swapped the place values of ages and turned kids into adults. I unleashed a PIENADO, for crying out loud!

What part of that isn't odd?!

Gritting his teeth, Todd stamped a foot again, shaking his head in irritation. Taking a deep breath, he strode up to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and stuffed the gadget he held down into his otherwise-organized socks, slamming the drawer shut again.

His anger all but spent, Todd let out an inaudible sigh, resting the heels of his palms in the edge of the dresser. Atop the old piece of furniture, his worn-out fish phone taunted him, the glassy look in its painted black eyes seeming to convey a mantra of You're not odd... You're just strange.

You're not odd...

"I am odd," he answered it, though his eyes were strangely empty and downcast. "I'm plenty odd."

He glanced around his room, from his mismatched curtains, to his Tardis gumball machine, to the pile of his Odd Squad awards in the corner that he kept meaning to either hang on the wall or just throw out.

Rhythmically balling his hands into fists, Todd could only find it in him to stare at his room before finally letting out a tired sigh.

"I know I'm odd," he decided to himself, glancing over at his open closet, where his usual Odd Todd suit hung, perfectly dry-cleaned and ready for action. He glanced back over at his sock drawer, and his eyes narrowed.

Then suddenly, a thin, dry smile formed on the rogue agent's face.

"If some machine can't see it... then I guess I'll just have to step up my game."

-----------

A/N: I have no idea if that gadget was called the Oddness-Detectinator, or if it was Gadget #43. Noooo idea. Someone please tell me if there's any canon info contradicting any of that! I don't think there was, but I'm way too lazy to check. :P

Well, anyway. R&R if you like (meaning if you want to; don't only read and review if you've hit the little star button!), and I'll see you next chapter!

This is Basil Grey, wishing you... a good night.

Or day. Despite popular belief, I don't actually know when you're reading this...