Author's Note: I'm so hyped for this story to get going. First off, I'd like to thank Prepare-for-the-crazy for giving me permission to write this sequel to Extended Stay and for being such a great buddy. (She is currently writing a Kim Possible fanfic, so please read that one too.) I'd also like to thank Jubalii and anyone else who may be reading this for sacrificing their time in their busy lives by doing so. Please review, favorite, follow and most importantly enjoy! (By the way, please be mature when you're reviewing this fanfic. Flames and trolling will promptly be ignored.)

-Voltalia

Disclaimer:

Superjail! (c) Augenblick Studios, Titmouse Inc., [adult swim] and Cartoon Network

The Warden kids and William Queen (c) Prepare-for-the-crazy

Other OCs (c) me

As a giant silver-white pod landed on the outskirts of what was formerly known as Washington D.C., a young mohawked bleach-blonde couldn't help but gawk at its simplistic yet advanced beauty. She didn't know how exactly to describe it. Breathtaking? Chilling? Uncanny? No. There wasn't a word that truly fitted it.

"H-hello?" she asked sotto voce. "Is there anyone in there?"

She trudged toward the pod but stopped when its door opened up. Out emerged three people in military uniforms: a man who appeared to be middle-aged with salt-and-pepper hair, his strikingly beautiful raven-haired wife, and their equally beautiful teenage son, who was fifteen going on sixteen. That last person stumbled out from behind his parents and proceeded to tumble off the ramp and into the grass.

"Aw, poor baby." the older woman said as she helped her son up on his feet. He then puked a bit.

"Yo. Is he okay?" the mohawked lady asked a bit out of concern.

"Oh, he'll be fine." the middle-aged man replied with a hand-wave. "We just now found out he gets motion sickness."

"Who are you guys?" the mohawked lady asked again. "And what's with those uniforms?"

"Huh? Oh, we're the dictators of the world and we've come to settle in the White House." the older man answered. "I'm the Warden and you're a punk..."

"Well, duh." the mohawked girl snarked while rolling her eyes.

"...and this is the Mistress." Warden continued, pointing to the black-haired woman. "My Mistress."

"So then this handsome guy is your son?" the bleach-blonde asked once more, pointing to the boy who just threw up.

Warden nodded. "Yep. His name is Edward or Eddie for short."

"Okay, then. But why the White House of all the places in the world? I guess Buckingham Palace was out of the question?"

"Because, Miss..."

"Genie."

"Because, Miss Genie, the White House is where the power of the most powerful nation in the world comes from. You know that, right?"

"Dude, I know. I learned that back in school. You don't need to tell me again. How old are you anyway?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked how old you were. Jeez."

"Well, if you must know, I am one hundred thirty seven."

"One hundred thirty seven? You're shitting me, dude."

"I have photos of me as a three-and-a-half-year-old boy from 1900." Warden then produced a photograph of himself with one of the hired help who used to work for his father.

Seeing the proof in front of her instantly shut Genie up. She then turned away and called out, "It's okay, guys! He's legit! They all are!"

In a flash, more youngsters arrived to gaze at the three newcomers and their fancy pod. There were about twelve youths besides Genie in total: a ginger-haired skinhead named Rocko, Maksim the coal black-haired masked Russian lad, a tanned skin golden-blonde named Iggy, a black guy with dreadlocks named Dante, an Afro-Japanese girl named Velvet, two identical wavy-haired brunette Puerto Rican girls who called themselves Aurelia and Flavia, Jillian the pompadoured ginger girl, another black dude named Absalom who bore resemblance to the African equivalent of Hercules, a biracial (mostly white and part black) lad named Seth, a white-blonde New Zealander lassie named Sally, and a black Scottish woman named Bette. All of these youths tried to catch a gaze at these three arrivals, with Rocko and Iggy and Bette the only ones successful to do so.

"Ah, so dey are leh-git, huh?" Iggy asked as she studied her subjects.

"Yeah." Genie replied. "What do you think?"

"Dey're impressive in de eyes, but dey don't look like da dictators we was hearing about." Iggy bluntly stated.

"Well, sorry to get your hopes up so high." Mistress said. "But we really need to get going."

"So where y'all heading to anyway?" Iggy asked again.

"The White House." Mistress simply replied.

"Uh-uh." Iggy shook he head violently. "Our leader lives dere. Ya can't just waltz on in and kick out our great Delilah!"

"I never saw anything about a 'Delilah' living in Washington D.C., let alone the White House." Warden cut in, rather confused.

"Gee, for being dictators of the world, you really suck at your jobs." Maksim snarked.

"Just take us to the White House, please." Mistress said.

"C'mon, guys." Genie pleaded a bit. "We really need to get them there. The sun looks like it's gonna go down anyway."

"Aw, fine." Iggy gave in. "C'mon, you lucky bastards. Off we go!"