I.
"Man, who are these people?" Ron asked as he and Kim surveyed the line snaking out of their local polling station.
"Turnout does seem to be high," she said as they joined the queue.
"Yeah. You'd think they were giving away Bueno Burro toys," he said, thinking of the super-hero pack animal action figures he'd recently been collecting at Bueno Nacho.
Kim cocked a doubtful eyebrow.
"Hey, free stuff rules, KP," he protested. "Besides, it's sunny and seventy degrees. This is perfect weather for some late fall marinating."
"Admittedly, we haven't had this nice a day in weeks," Kim conceded. "But voting is ferociously important."
"I know, but so is not getting slammed by Reeve Barkin," Ron sighed, referring to his gruff English 101 instructor. "What are the odds that my arch-foe would have a brother who teaches at my college?"
"I thought Monkey Fist was your arch-foe," Kim observed.
"Hey, I can have two arch-foes, can't I?"
"Multitasking now, are we?" she said with a mischievous smile
Ron shrugged. "Just taking after my bon-diggity, overachieving GF," he responded with a huge grin. "Still, while you can do anything, the Rondo cannot. I'm going to have bail on you if I'm going to make it to class on time."
Kim frowned but relented.
"Promise me you'll vote later," she said as she gave him a buss on the cheek.
"You got it, Kimbo," he agreed as left the line and headed to class.
II.
It was one in the afternoon when Ron walked by the polling station. He could stand in the still-lengthy line or he could head to the Student Union to play a few games of Space Squid before his history class.
In this election, democracy didn't stand a chance.
III.
Ron ran from class towards the field house. He glanced at the library clock tower to see if he had time to make a detour to the Collegetown polling station before football practice. He realized he did – but only if he wanted to do the crab walk around the football field's perimeter.
Ron Stoppable knew that ticking off his presidential preference on a ballot was important. But not ticking off Reeve Barkin, who was not only his English professor but also the assistant coach, was even more important. He headed straight to the locker room.
IV.
Ron's path to the polling station took him by the old movie house. He looked at the poster by the ticket window. It hadn't been there the day before.
"No way," he said in awe. "This is badical!"
While Ron had planned to secret himself in a voting booth, there was no way he could resist the lure of secreting himself in a theatre hosting a Fearless Ferret Festival.
V.
The basso-voiced African-American reporter adjusted her lapel mike, looked into the camera, and, when the red light turned green, began to speak.
"This is Tricia Labowski, reporting from Collegtown, where voter turnout, fueled by intense interest in this year's presidential election, is running at an all-time high …"
VI.
"Kim's gonna kill me," Ron said as he looked at his watch as he stood in a polling station line that never seemed to moved. He pulled out his cell-phone and dialed her number. He was put into her voicemail, which didn't surprise him, since he knew she had a service club meeting. "Yo, KP," he said. "Looks like Voter Boy is gonna miss dinner with you tonight …"
VII.
Even though the line had been moving, albeit slowly, the voting booth appeared to be no closer than when Ron had first entered the building. His feet were tired and, worse, his stomach was growling.
Loudly.
Visions of Tex-Mex began dancing before his eyes. Mouth-watering chimeritos. Tummy-pleasing burritos.
Ron tried to be strong.
He tried to be diligent.
He tried to tough it out.
He succumbed to the call of the Naco.
After all, he could always come back to vote after dinner …
VIII.
"Aw, man," Ron whined when he returned to the polling station, only to find the line was still ridiculously long.
He debated what to do next and decided to head home. As he walked to the dorm, he consoled himself with the fact that while he'd failed to do his civic duty, he'd scored his third-best-ever Space Squid score, had a crab walk-free football practice, finally seen the rarely-aired Fearless Ferret Arbor Day Special, and scored not one, but two, Bueno toys at the Nacho.
Besides, he told himself, it wasn't as if his vote actually mattered.
IX.
The assistant meekly entered the sitting room. There, in the presidential suite of the luxurious Arizona Spa, Hotel and Mondo Putt-Putt, sat the silver-haired man who would be president. Jack McQuade, who had been watching news reports with his family, looked up.
"Senator, I've got some news …"
"Yes?" the GOP nominee said to the surprisingly nervous young woman. McQuade had always been impressed by her sang-froid.
"Something, uh, unexpected, seems to be have happened …"
X.
The flummoxed campaign advisor walked into the well-appointed conference room. There, in a 97th floor meeting room with a stunning view of Go City and Lake Go, the eloquent African-American who would be president sat with his family and friends watching news reports. Barry O'Malley looked up.
"Senator, I've got some news …"
"What is it?" the Democratic nominee said to the normally unflappable aide. O'Malley had always been impressed by his steeliness.
"Something, uh, unexpected, seems to have happened …"
XI.
Kim and Ron were eating popcorn as they watched the election returns in her dorm room.
"… And turnout across the nation is at a record high," Tricia Labowski declared. "As improbable as it seems, it appears to be approaching one hundred percent and the voting in our own state is expected to be almost evenly divided."
"Wow," Kim said. "This is so ferociously amazing. We're living history."
"Yeah," Ron gulped, a pit growing in his stomach as he watched the Electoral College projections indicating a tie. "I'm all about the history."
The auburn haired hero and college freshman had known her best friend boyfriend almost her entire life and could now detect every nuance in every inflection of every word he uttered. She looked at him and his face confirmed what she already knew.
"You didn't vote, did you?" she said.
"I almost got a personal best in Space Squid," he said lamely.
Kim sighed and fell back on the sofa. "Ron, I love you but sometimes you are so maddeningly irresponsible."
"I'm sorry, KP, but stuff just kept getting in the way—"
Ron's apology was interrupted by what sounded like scuffling in the hallway accompanied by language worthy of a Marine (or Nana Possible the year she'd lost two out of three in the Chez Leisure shuffleboard tournament). With instincts formed by years of working together in the field, the two heroes rose to their feet and carefully approached the door.
"Cover me," Kim ordered.
"You got it, KP," Ron said.
She flung the door open, expecting to find one of her villainous foes. Instead she found Jack McQuade and Barry O'Malley.
"I got here first," McQuade said as he tried to give his opponent a noogie
"In your dreams," O'Malley countered as he broke free of McQuade's grip and then tried to put him in a headlock.
"Can we help you?" Kim asked as she watched the two men go at it.
The two politicians turned from their grappling to look at the redhead. One was about to answer when a tow-headed young man joined her.
"Ron Stoppable!" they both shouted.
"Coolio!" Ron exclaimed. "They know my name!"
Kim rolled her eyes.
"So," Ron continued, "what brings you dudes here?"
The two men disentangled themselves, adjusted their jackets, straightened their ties, extended their hands, and looked Ron in the eye.
"I want your vote," they both said.
"Can I call a jinx?" Ron asked Kim who slapped her forehead, then headed back into the room, trailed by her BF and the two men who would be Leader of the Free World.
"Mr. Stoppable," O'Malley said as Ron and Kim sat down on the couch, jostling McQuade aside, "We've determined that you are the only registered voter in America who has not yet cast a ballot and that given the split vote in this state, you can decide who will serve as the next president. I would be honored if you would choose me, change you can believe in, and the future of our great country."
"Like you, Ron," McQuade said as he grabbed O'Malley's arm and yanked him away, "I've fought villains my entire career. I know how concerned you are about our great country's future. My friend, I would be honored if you voted for me."
Ron rubbed his neck. "Well, since you guys came all the way here to personally ask for my support, I guess I should get down to the polling station to cast my vote."
Kim beamed. "Way to go, Election Boy!"
"I'd be happy to give you a ride," O'Malley offered.
"So would I," McQuade added.
Ron looked at the two overeager candidates, then to Kim. "We're walking, aren't we?"
"We're so walking," she said.
The foursome left the second-floor apartment, headed down the stairs and out the front door into the unusually warm November evening. The candidates made their way towards their campaign battle buses, while the two heroes began heading to the polling station. Before going far, Ron turned and called after McQuade and O'Malley.
"Dudes, KP and I have watched all of the debates, and I've read about you guys and what you stand for on-line. The economy's not doing all that well and the world situation looks like it's being managed by Drakken. Before I vote I need to ask each of you a question."
"Okay," McQuade said.
"Sure," O'Malley agreed.
Kim looked expectantly at her BFBF, pleased that he was making the most of his moment in the democratic process sun.
"I'm pretty sure that Bueno Nacho's been cutting back on how much Diablo sauce it puts into those little packets. What do you think?"
"Ron!" Kim exclaimed. "So not the time!"
"I'm for more Diablo sauce and no earmarks in every packet," McQuade said. "Unlike my opponent who wants to tax your Diablo sauce."
"If you elect me president, ninety-five percent of all Americans will have more Diablo sauce," O'Malley said. "If you vote for my opponent, you'll have four more years of not enough Diablo sauce."
Kim looked at her watch. "Come on, Ron. The polls are going to close in a few."
"I'm with you, KP," he said before he turned to the two political hopefuls. "Just one more thing. What's your position on guys named Barkin teaching—"
"Ron. Voting. Now!" Kim bellowed.
"Gotcha," he said meekly as he took his girlfriend's hand and let her lead him to the polls.
After all, Ron knew that while either Barry O'Malley or Jack McQuade would be elected the next president of the United States, Kim already wielded executive authority in the Possible-Stoppable relationship …
KP © Disney.
The candidates © The Author.
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Election Day is on November 4th. If you're an American citizen, 18 or older, make sure to vote!