Er...I should have taken the time to post this months ago...Kooky-Nick isn't even in the race. Must ... post ... while ... still ... relevant.

Oh, hello. Welcome to my story. This is going to be a short-story collection of parodies based on the current U.S. Presidential election, with an Invader Zim theme. Promises to be interesting, eh? :-) The author of this story wishes for this to be fun and more-or-less non-partisan, in no small part because he argues about politics enough with close family that he does not need it interfering with his fun time. Along that vein he requests any reviewers not to do politically-based flames upon himself or one another. :-)

How long this story will be, I cannot say; it depends on the news and my inspiration. But I hope you enjoy!

(P.S.: For those interested, my other fic, "Dib in the PITS," will update soon. I promise.)

(P.P.S.: If you don't understand this first chapter, just search Youtube for "Kucinich UFO," and you should get the necessary info.)

Chapter One
Endorsements of the Doomed

Static…static…then, suddenly, Dib appeared on the little screen, staring at me.

"Okay, Keef, is the camera working?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so—how do ya tell?"

"Is the little green light on?"

"No, it's—wait, there it goes!"

"Okay, and did you remember to take the lens cap off this time?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good." Dib took a seat at his desk in the empty classroom, straightening out his trench coat and shirt. He ran a comb futilely through his hair, which flattened for a moment and then sprang back up into its usual shape, spikey and cool-looking, as Dib stowed the comb away. He sat up straight and put his hands folded together in front of him on the desk, smiling broadly. Dib doesn't smile enough, I think; he looks much better happy. "Okay, now just press the green button to start the recording."

"Yeah, okay. Hey Dib?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe after we do this, we can go out for ice cream! And then you can come spend the night at my house, and we can— "

"Keef?" Dib said, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, which was still spread into the happy, toothy grin he rarely showed.

"Yeah?"

"Just shut up and just press the green button." His happy face twitched a little as he spoke.

"Oh, okay…uh, get ready…okay, now!"

Dib quickly returned his face to its original grin. He paused for a moment, letting the camera have a moment to take him in, then began.

"Hello. My name is Dib Membrane, and I would like to talk to you today about Congressman Dennis Kucinich. Congressman Kucinich has a long and distinguished career serving our country, and continues to provide open-minded and unique perspectives that no other administration can supply. Therefore, I would like to officially endorse Congressman Kucinich in his run to become our next Presidentman. I feel— "

"Dib, what stupid thing are you doing now?"

Dib jumped; I quickly swung around, camera still in my arms, and watched as three new figures came into the shot, two scowling, the third grinning joyously.

"Gaz! GIR! ZIM!" I cried. More friends to play with!

"Keef, keep the camera straight!" Dib barked, then turned back to the others. "You three get out of here! You're ruining my video!"

"Okay, first of all, our last name isn't Membrane, even though everyone thinks it is," Gaz began. "And secondly, what are you doing?" she repeated, squinting up at Dib. Gaz doesn't open her eyes much, which is a shame, they're such a pretty shade of amber brown. She had her Game Slave in her hand, like always (she really likes video games, and she's really good at them too), but she had paused it now and was glaring up at her brother.

"I'm making an endorsement video for the election! Now get out of here— Keef, turn off the camera, we need to restart— "

"You're endorsing Kucinich?"

"What's wrong with Kooky-Nick?" I wondered.

Dib turned to glare at me. "Kucinich."

"What's wrong is that he dropped out of the race months ago," Gaz said in exasperation. "And he never even had a chance when he was running."

"Well— I'm trying to push for a kind of write-in thing, if he gets enough votes— "

"And why are you supporting him anyway?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "This is about that alien thing again, isn't it?"

"Hey, alien invaders are the most pressing issue facing the planet right now, and at least he's brave enough to stand up and admit that we have a problem!" Dib said, pounding his fist passionately on the desk. "We need a candidate with that kind of conviction, to face the problem" he jabbed a finger angrily at Zim "rather than ignoring it like everybody else!"

"Ha!" Zim laughed, folding his arms. "As if that pitiful hyuman could hope to stand up to the mighty mightiness that is the Amazing ZIM! What's he gonna do— Department of Peace me to death?!"

Zim laughed heartily. I didn't really get the joke, but I began to chuckle under my breath too, until Dib shot me a dirty look. I quickly stifled my laughter, and Dib went back to glaring at Zim. Those two don't like each other that much, which is a real shame, because they could have made such good friends, they have so much in common and everything. Doesn't it stink when things like politics or suspicions of plans to conquer humanity get in the way of a perfectly good friendship? But I was still hoping that I could make them be friends, so that the three of us could be bestest friends forever, and move into an apartment together and get jobs fixing copying machines and--

Dib jumped from his chair, glaring at Zim and breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Stay out of this, Zim! You're an alien! Aliens don't get to vote! And who would you be supporting anyway," Dib asked, crossing his arms over his chest, "the American Nazi Party or something?"

"Actually, I'm endorsing Obama," Zim said airily, polishing his sharp, gloved fingers on his shirt.

"Yeah, I fig— wait, Obama?" Dib raised an eyebrow, his head falling to one side. "As in Barack Obama? What would you be supporting him for?"

Zim bent down and began to rub his hands together, a broad, happy, twitchy smile spreading over his face. (Zim looks so nice when he's happy, it's a shame he doesn't smile like that more.) "Because, foolish Dib-stink, with all his talk of peace and change and hope, he is the perfect hyuman to lead this planet right into my hands! He will weaken this planet's already PITIFUL defenses, and when the Tallest come with the Armada, Earth will be ours for the taking!"

Zim threw back his head and laughed again, a nice, cheery sound that made my heart swell, even as it made Dib's face harden.

"But doesn't Obama have a plan to drastically expand the military?" Gaz asked apathetically, her attention now immersed again in her Game Slave.

"Mwa-ha-ha— what?" Zim said, his jolliness cut off abruptly.

"Yeah. And he's also the one who's made all those big threats to invade half the countries we're suppose to be allies with, so I don't think fighting an invading alien army is going to be much of a moral quandary for him."

I was hurt to see that Zim's happiness quickly vanished; instead his eyes had gone a bit wide and jumpy, and his healthy green complexion began to pale to one of worry. He shot a look at Dib and smiled nervously. "Hmm…uh, maybe Kooky-Nick isn't so bad an idea after all…"

"It's Kucinich!"

"I like the crazy guy!" GIR called out suddenly, his head suddenly spinning around on his body. (Zim must be really good with dogs, because GIR can do all kinds of really neat tricks like that.)

"You mean Kucinich?" Gaz said, as her game beeped out a high score.

"No, the taaaall crazy guy."

"Ron Paul?"

"I like Ron Paul! He gonna give me tacos!" Gir yelled, and suddenly a taco shot out of the top of his head and fell into his hand. He began to chomp on it happily. Like I said, he knows some really cool tricks.

"Hmm, I don't remember him giving that campaign promise. Though knowing him I wouldn't be surprised," Dib said, rolling his eyes.

"What are all you horrible children doing here?"

"Agh!" everybody yelled, jumping— I spun the camera around again to see Ms. Bitters sitting at her desk, glaring at us through her glasses, apparently just having woken up.

"Ms. Bitters!" Dib cried, startled. "When did you come in here?"

"I'm always here," she said dryly, bending over in a very snakelike way. Rumor is she has no bones. I once tried to convince her she should become an acrobat and join the circus, but she didn't take to the idea. "Now what are all you horrible children doing here after skool hours? Something horrible, no doubt?"

"We're talking about our political candidates!" I said, smiling up at her. "Zim and Dib want that Kooky-Nick guy, and GIR over there wants Ron Paul."

"Taco man!"

"Kucinich. KU! CIN! ICH!"

"Yes, Kooky-Nick is clearly the best choice," Zim was saying now, using his smartest voice and ignoring Dib's panting rage. "With his plans to cut Earth military spending and all, he would make an excellent presidentman, and--"

"You don't want the best presidentman! You're just voting for Kucinich because you want to enslave the Earth!" Dib cried, pointing an accusing finger at Zim.

"Yeah, well, you're only voting for him because you want to save the Earth. How is that fair, hmm?" Zim retorted, leaning forward to glare.

"I'm voting for Hillary Clinton," Ms. Bitters said brightly, leaning backwards and tenting her fingers.

Everybody was silent for a moment. Finally Dib said, "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me at all."

"Family has to stick together," Ms. Bitters said, nodding sagely.

"I like McCain!" I piped in, enjoying the conversation. "My dad says he's a war hero and— "

"Shut up, Keef!" everyone yelled together, taking me somewhat aback.

"Quit trying to turn this into some kind of evil scheme, Zim!" Dib cried, pushing Zim backwards roughly with both hands.

"Yeah, well, why don't you try and make me, election-pig!" Zim shot back, pushing Dib.

"Why don't you both shut up?" Gaz muttered. "I'm trying to play my game."

"Presidential elections are about doing what's good for the country, not about— "

"Nothing could be better for this country than to be ruled by the awesomeness of ZIM!"

"You're just trying to subvert the whole democratic process!"

"I said shut up," Gaz growled, her eyes narrowing even tighter towards her Game Slave. She can get a bit grumpy when people make noises during her game. That's how I got in the hospital the first two times.

"Ha! Pitiful hyuman democracy! Your planet is doomed to fall, choosing your most important leaders based on something as stupid as the opinions of a bunch of ignorant pig-worms, rather than on the basis of height!"

Dib let out a harsh laugh. "You're arguing for the height system? It doesn't matter who we elect, then, you'll never rule the Earth. You're even shorter than Kucinich!"

"Why you little— "

Zim dived at Dib, his clawlike hands outstretched; Dib's eyes went wide as he realized he had pushed the argument too far. He stumbled backwards and fell, and Zim landed on top of him, and the two of them began a violent wrestling match on the floor, each trying to pin the other down and clench his fingers around his opponent's throat.

"Guys, don't fight!" I cried, trying to move into the fray to separate them, still watching them out of the lens of the camera. "Come on, why don't you— "

"Agh!"

Dib seemed to have pulled off all of Zim's hair in one big clump; Zim let out a cry of pain (or was it fright?) and quickly threw his hands over his head (what was that sticking out between two of his fingers?), as Dib let the hair fly through the air. It soared across the room and hit Gaz in the face. She fell backwards, her Game Slave flying out of her hand. It clattered to the floor and smashed.

"Uh-oh," I muttered, the camera shaking in my hands.

Gaz looked up, her eyes wide again, no longer pretty but very angry. Zim and Dib had both stopped fighting; they were frozen, one of Zim's hands covering his head and the other around Dib's neck, Dib's hand balled into a fist, but both staring at Gaz with wide eyes. She let out a growl and leapt.

"My GAME!"

She flew on top of both of them and the struggle resumed, with Zim and Dib both screaming. I hopped from one foot to the other, the camera's view shaking from side to side. "Come on, guys, don't fight. I— "

Just then Dib went flying out from the pile, having been thrown by Gaz. I let out a yelp as Dib hit me, the camera flying out of my hands. Everything turned back into static.

. . . . .

The static flashed across the TV screen in Ms. Bitters' class, then suddenly turned to black. Red, white and blue letters appeared over the black, with Zita's voice accompanying.

"DO YOU WANT ANY OF THESE WEIRDOES CHOOSING YOUR NEXT PRESIDENTMAN? NO? THEN VOTE FOR RALPH NADER, A CANDIDATE YOU CAN TRUST! Paid for by Skoolchildren for Nader 2008."

"Well," I said, leaning over to a heavily-bruised and depressed-looking Dib, who was slumping in his desk with his head in the hand of the arm that wasn't broken "at least someone wanted our video."

He sighed. "Shut up, Keef," he muttered, dropping his head onto his desk.

Ha ha…but seriously. Don't vote for Nader. Nader sucks. Although he can be good for sucking votes away from other candidates…