The Obama Drama. (Aka, The Worst Quackity Fanfic)

Chapter 1: The Obama

The sunlight breaks through the crack in your curtains, waking you from your deep sleep. A soft, honey-like glow fills your messy room and you sit up, trying to remember whether you have school or not. Even though you're upstairs, you can still smell the pancakes frying. You grin to yourself. Saturday morning is pancake morning.

"Obama, wake up! The pancakes are ready!" Your dad shouts from the bottom of the stairs.

Without a second thought, you pull your large hoodie over your pajamas and head for the stairs.

"Good morning, Dad," You say to him as you take your seat at your small table.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"

"Certainly better now that it's the weekend,"

He passes you a plate of pancakes, but doesn't sit down with you. You look up at him, confused.

"Are you not hungry?" You ask through a mouthful of food,

"I'd love to stay, but Brad's called in to work last minute with a broken leg. They need me at the construction site,"

"Oh okay. Joe Biden and I were going to go to the mall this afternoon, so I guess I won't see you until dinner time,"

"Promise me you'll be good? Joe can get a little crazy sometimes,"

"Don't worry about her, Dad. We'll be okay,"

He grins at you to show you that he trusts what you're saying.

"Alright, have fun. Oh, and if you record a video, please don't scream at the game you're playing, the neighbors have already called me twice this week about you disturbing the peace,"

You laugh and then nod.

•••

Once he's gone and you've finished your food, you go upstairs to record a video. Today's episode is a classic jump-scare horror game about an evil nun in an asylum. It makes you scream and even cry once, so you consider it a successful recording.

Although you don't have very many subscribers on YouTube (only about a thousand), you still love playing for an audience in case you're one day discovered by the YouTube gaming community. Being the president of the United States hadn't been covering the bills, so when you had finally finished your second term in office, you had been inspired by all the hilarious people who played video games for a living. Now everyday when you came home from school, you recorded a video, edited it, and then posted it for your audience to see. Kind of a repetitive lifestyle, but you figured that if you kept it up, you could someday be like your idol, Quackity.

Quackity. Ever since you had accidentally stumbled across his video titled FORTNITE IS THE WORST GAME EVER, you had been watching his content. If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, you felt as though you might even have a slight crush on  him. Of course, he was so big and famous, you knew you would never have a chance. After all, you weren't like other girls, so there was no reason he would like you back even if you did meet one day. It was hopeless.

Or was it?