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Chapter Text

It was a typical day in the Stray Kids dorm, but little did the members know that a seismic shift was about to occur. I.N had been jokingly campaigning for fun during a live stream, but somehow, his charisma had captivated the nation. In a shocking twist, he had been elected president.

As the news broke, the members gathered around the TV, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Is this a prank?” Bang Chan exclaimed, holding his phone like it might shatter any second.

“Nope! He’s our new president!” Hyunjin replied, barely able to contain his laughter.

I.N, now wearing a tailored suit that still managed to look slightly oversized, stood at a podium. His first address was full of youthful enthusiasm.

“Thank you for electing me! Now, let’s talk about my new rules!” He clapped his hands, and the audience cheered, Stray Kids among them. The rest of the citizens looked at each other, aghast. They murmured together in concern. Just what kind of president had they elected? It was a joke! He wasn't even supposed to win.

The first rule: “All citizens must worship me at 4 PM every day!”

The camera panned to Stray Kids, who erupted in cheers. “This is amazing!” Han shouted, already preparing a worship playlist.

“Finally, a president who understands my needs!” Felix grinned, bouncing in his seat.

But outside the dorm, the general public was less enthusiastic. Confused citizens filled social media with posts like, “What does worship even mean?” and “Is this for real?”

Day 1 of Worship:

At exactly 4 PM, I.N sat on a golden throne in a park, wearing a crown made of flowers. Stray Kids, dressed in matching outfits, led a very reluctant flash mob of fans in a choreographed dance, chanting, “We love I.N! We love I.N!”

“Can you believe this?” Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head at the spectacle. “This is totally bizarre!”

“Bizarre is the new normal!” Hyunjin replied, spinning in the choreography.

As the worship continued, a live feed was broadcasted nationwide. I.N waved at the camera, grinning widely. “Remember, every day at 4 PM it's I.N worship time! It’s mandatory!”

Rule Two: “Mandatory Ice Cream Day!”

The next day, I.N declared that every Friday would now be Ice Cream Day. Citizens were required to eat ice cream while dancing.

“Who wouldn’t want that?” I.N's friend Boemgyu said, already looking forward to the weekend.

Meanwhile, the media was in a frenzy. News anchors tried to remain serious as they reported on the bizarre new laws. “Experts warn that mandatory ice cream could lead to health issues, but President I.N seems unbothered…”

Public Reaction:

The city was divided. Some citizens embraced the chaos, painting their faces with ice cream and donning shirts with I.N’s face on them. Others protested, holding signs that read, “We don’t worship!” and “Ice cream is not a meal!”

Back at the dorm, Stray Kids held an emergency meeting. “What do we do about the protests?” Changbin asked, glancing at the latest news updates.

“Let’s throw an ice cream party!” I.N suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “They can’t resist free ice cream!”

The members exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. “You know what? That might actually work,” Hyunjin said, already planning the decorations.

The Ice Cream Party:

On the day of the party, I.N’s grand idea turned the protests into a celebration. Fans and dissenters alike showed up for free ice cream, music, and a chance to see their president. I.N beamed as he scooped ice cream for everyone.

“See? This is how we unite! Ice cream and fun!” he declared, as people danced and laughed, forgetting their grievances.

Stray Kids cheered him on, reveling in the madness. “This is the best presidency ever!” Han shouted, licking his ice cream cone.

Final Rule: “Dancing is Now a Form of Currency!”

In his latest press conference, I.N announced, “From now on, dancing is a form of currency! You can pay for your groceries with dance moves!”

The audience was mixed; some laughed, while others stared in disbelief. Stray Kids erupted in laughter, immediately planning a dance-off in the nearest grocery store.

As the chaos continued, I.N looked around at his members, a wide grin on his face. “This is just the beginning! Who’s ready for more craziness?” Stray Kids cheered. The entire nation groaned.

And for Stray Kids, the answer was simple: “Always!”

Epilogue:

Months later, the world had adjusted to I.N’s rules. Citizens danced through the streets, ice cream trucks were always around, and worship at 4 PM became a beloved tradition—albeit a strange one.

Stray Kids stood together, watching as I.N happily waved from his throne, the epitome of youthful exuberance in a world that had learned to embrace the absurdity.

“Long live President I.N!” they cheered, not quite sure whether to laugh or join in the worship themselves.

Chapter Text

It was a typical day in the Stray Kids dorm, with the members lounging around, scrolling through their devices. Suddenly, a loud announcement interrupted their peaceful afternoon.

“Attention, citizens! This is President I.N speaking!” His voice echoed through the dorm, crackling with excitement.

“Uh-oh,” Bang Chan muttered, knowing that I.N’s announcements often led to chaotic adventures.

“I’ve just secured a mission to retrieve an asteroid! Isn’t that cool?” I.N’s enthusiasm radiated through the speakers.

“An asteroid?!” Hyunjin exclaimed, nearly dropping his phone. “I.N, no!”

“Yes! I.N yes!” I.N replied, practically bouncing in his chair as he watched the members’ reactions through a video feed.

“Are you serious?” Seungmin rubbed his temples, trying to process the news. “What do you even plan to do with an asteroid?”

“Make it my pet!” I.N grinned, his imagination running wild. “Imagine taking it on walks! It’ll be awesome!”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Changbin said, crossing his arms skeptically.

“I’m not! Think of the publicity! The first president to own an asteroid! We’ll be legends!” I.N was already packing his space suit, completely unfazed by the protests of his bandmates. He ignored questions about logistics and where he'd even keep the damn asteroid. He'll figure it out later, he's sure.

The Mission Preparation:

The Stray Kids members gathered in the living room, brainstorming how to talk I.N out of this ludicrous plan.

“Okay, what if we distract him?” Felix suggested. “Like, what if we take him to an amusement park? He loves roller coasters!”

“Not if he knows we’re trying to distract him!” Han countered. “He’ll just find a way to convince us to take him to space anyway.”

“Then we need a plan to stop the launch!” Hyunjin proposed. “We can’t let him go up there!”

As they debated, I.N was in the background, video calling the space agency, waving enthusiastically. “I want the big asteroid—the one that looks super cool!”

Launch Day:

The day of the launch arrived, and the entire nation was tuned in. Stray Kids rushed to the launch site, frantically trying to find a way to stop I.N.

“Okay, we need to interrupt his speech!” Hyunjin said, spotting I.N at the podium, looking as determined as ever.

“Everyone, thank you for supporting my asteroid mission! Together, we will show the universe what I.N can do!” he announced, his fans cheering wildly.

“Hold on! I.N, wait!” Bang Chan yelled, pushing through the crowd. “You can’t go to space to get an asteroid! It’s dangerous!”

“Exactly! And you might get lost up there!” Seungmin added, running up beside him.

“Or worse, you could end up in an asteroid battle!” Changbin chimed in, dramatically waving his arms.

I.N paused, considering their words, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. “But think of the adventure! I need to do this!”

“Adventure doesn’t always mean a trip to space, you know!” Hyunjin argued, exasperated.

The Launch:

Ignoring his friends’ protests, I.N climbed aboard the rocket, a wide grin plastered on his face. “I’m going to get that asteroid!” He gave a final wave as the doors closed.

As the countdown began, Stray Kids watched helplessly, exchanging worried glances. “What if something goes wrong?” Han whispered, biting his nails.

“Why did we let this happen?” Felix groaned.

“3… 2… 1… Lift off!” The rocket soared into the sky, and the members watched in a mix of awe and panic.

In Space:

Meanwhile, inside the rocket, I.N was over the moon—literally! As he floated in zero gravity, he marveled at the stars outside the window.

“This is amazing!” he shouted, tumbling through the cabin. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this!”

After navigating through a series of comical mishaps—like accidentally launching a snack packet into the air and getting hit in the face with it—he finally set his sights on the asteroid. It was magnificent, glimmering against the dark backdrop of space.

“I’m going to get it!” I.N exclaimed, engaging the capture mechanism of the ship.

Back on Earth:

Stray Kids were on the ground, frantically coordinating with the space agency. “Can’t we just send a rescue mission?” Chan suggested, desperately hoping for a solution. His face was lined with stress and panic.

“They’re saying it’s too risky,” the technician replied, shaking his head. “We have to wait for him to return.”

Suddenly, a commotion erupted as a huge screen displayed I.N’s face. “Guys! I got it!” he shouted, holding up an asteroid bigger than his entire body triumphantly.

The members stared, dumbfounded. “He actually did it…” Seungmin muttered, half-impressed and half-terrified.

“I.N, bring it back safely!” Bang Chan urged, realizing their crazy president might actually pull this off.

Return to Earth:

After what felt like an eternity, I.N’s rocket landed, and he staggers out, holding the asteroid like a trophy. The crowd erupted into cheers, but Stray Kids rushed to his side.

“I.N, you’re insane!” Hyunjin exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Is it a pet now?” Han asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Of course! It’s a space pet!” I.N laughed, beaming with pride. “I’ll call it Astro!”

“Only you could think of owning an asteroid as a pet,” Seungmin sighed, half-smiling despite his concern.

“We’ve been through a lot, but I think we can handle this,” Bang Chan said, looking at I.N fondly. “Just… don’t try to take it for walks in the park, okay?”

“Promise!” I.N said, still bubbling with excitement. “Now, who wants to help me build it a little house?”

As the members rolled their eyes, they couldn’t help but laugh. After all, life with President I.N was never boring—and they wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Chapter Text

It was an ordinary morning in the capital when President I.N decided it was time for a change. He stood at the podium during a press briefing, excitement bubbling in him like soda fizz. Stray Kids watched from the sidelines, exchanging nervous glances.

“Citizens! Today, I’m excited to announce a new initiative: we’re turning all government buildings into water parks!” I.N declared, arms wide open, his grin as bright as the sun. “Yes, you heard me right!”

The press room erupted into chaos, journalists shouting questions and officials exchanging incredulous looks. “What?!” one government official exclaimed. “Where are we supposed to work?”

“Not my problem!” I.N replied cheerfully, shrugging. “Just think of the joy! Who wouldn’t want to work in a water park?”

The Reactions:

As the news spread, Stray Kids couldn’t help but burst into laughter backstage. “Only I.N could think of something so ridiculous,” Seungmin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“He’s serious, though. He actually wants to do this,” Bang Chan replied, trying to stifle a laugh. “I guess he really thinks it’ll boost morale.”

Hyunjin chimed in, “I mean, who wouldn’t want to slide into their meetings?”

The Transformation:

Within days, the capital’s government buildings began to transform. Slides sprouted from the roofs, lazy rivers wound through the hallways, and splash pads were installed in every office.

“Welcome to the new Water Park Bureau!” I.N announced at the grand opening, dressed in a colorful Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. “Now you can work and play at the same time!”

The gathered officials looked bewildered as they stared at the makeshift pools and inflatable decorations. “How are we supposed to get any work done in a water park?” one official shouted, clearly frustrated.

“Just think of it as team-building!” I.N replied, unfazed. “You can hold meetings on floating rafts! It’ll be fun!”

The First Day:

The first day of work in the water park government buildings began with chaos. Employees floated down the lazy river while trying to balance laptops, and the sound of splashing echoed through the halls.

“Is this really happening?” Seungmin asked, watching the mayhem unfold from a safe distance.

“It looks like a disaster waiting to happen,” Changbin chuckled, unable to look away.

In the middle of it all, I.N was having the time of his life, gleefully sliding down a massive water slide and cheering. “Come on, everyone! Don’t forget to have fun while you work!”

The Complaints:

As the weeks went on, it became clear that the initiative wasn’t exactly working as intended. Meetings were chaotic, and important paperwork was lost in the waves of inflatable fun. Officials were not pleased.

“President I.N! We can’t hold a budget meeting while people are playing with water guns!” one official complained, dripping wet and clearly exasperated.

“Just write it down on a waterproof notepad!” I.N responded, shrugging. “This is the future of productivity!”

“Are you serious? Our whole system is falling apart!” another official shouted, throwing their hands up in defeat.

“Maybe you should look at it as an opportunity for innovation!” I.N said with a grin. “Think of all the team spirit!”

The Consequences:

Despite the chaos, the citizens loved it. Social media exploded with videos of employees splashing around, having water balloon fights, and celebrating the new culture. Memes of “Presidential Water Park” circulated endlessly.

But the officials were growing increasingly frustrated. “We need to have a serious conversation about this,” one finally said, cornering I.N in the inflatable conference room.

“Sure! Just don’t splash too much,” I.N replied, unfazed. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is we can’t govern like this! It’s unprofessional!” the official exclaimed.

“Maybe that’s what we need! Less stuffy and more fun!” I.N argued back. “Look at the positivity! People are happy!”

The Solution:

After much back and forth, I.N finally agreed to compromise. “Okay, okay, how about we designate specific hours for ‘water fun’ and then regular work hours afterward?” he suggested.

“Fine, but we need to get back to normal operations!” the official said, relief flooding their voice.

“Normal is overrated!” I.N countered, but with a playful wink. “But I’ll make it work!”

And so, the water park government buildings found a balance. Employees learned to float and work simultaneously, holding meetings on pool floats and brainstorming while splashing around.

Stray Kids visited regularly, witnessing the bizarre blend of governance and water fun. “Only I.N could pull off something like this,” Bang Chan mused, watching people juggle paperwork while gliding down slides.

As the days passed, the laughter and camaraderie in the water park atmosphere truly did boost morale. I.N watched proudly, knowing he’d turned a mundane government job into an experience no one would forget.

In the end, President I.N’s water park revolution may have been chaotic, but it was undeniably entertaining. It was proof that sometimes, shaking things up—even in the government—could lead to unexpected joy. And with Stray Kids by his side, every day was a splash-filled adventure!

Chapter Text

It was the start of President I.N.’s most ambitious project yet: The Global Disruption Tour. The plan was simple—he’d visit countries, make a few little changes to the international dynamics, drop a subtle bombshell or two, and then disappear into the night like the true mastermind he was. The best part? No one would ever prove it was him.

First Stop: France
I.N. arrived in Paris under the cover of a perfectly scheduled state visit. The Eiffel Tower gleamed in the background, and President I.N. stood at the podium, giving his usual speech about unity and global cooperation. But as he spoke, his eyes gleamed with something much more mischievous.
“Friends of France!” he said, his voice dripping with charm. “As a token of goodwill, I bring you a special gift from the United States—a new French national motto. Forget ‘Liberté, égalité, fraternité.’ It’s time for something fresher. How about: ‘Vive la... croissant?’”
The crowd stared, baffled. Some laughed awkwardly, unsure if they should be offended or amused.
The next day, the croissant comment made headlines across Europe, stirring up debates about France’s identity and the meaning of its famous motto. Social media exploded with memes, while some radical cultural pundits called for a national referendum to change the motto officially.
President I.N., of course, was already on a private jet to his next destination.

Second Stop: Japan
In Tokyo, President I.N. was greeted with grand fanfare. A warm welcome, tea ceremonies, and smiles all around. But as he toured the ancient temples and admired the serene beauty of Kyoto, his mind was busy plotting.
He made an offhand comment to the press, something so subtle and simple that no one thought twice about it.
“You know,” I.N. said, looking out over the tranquil gardens, “I always wondered if Japan’s bullet trains would be even faster if they didn’t stop at every station. Maybe just one station. I bet the trains could break world records!”
The media, of course, seized on this, interpreting it as a comment about “streamlining” Japan’s famous rail system. Soon, debates raged about whether or not Japan’s beloved train stops were “too many” and whether this was an inefficient system holding the country back.
The Ministry of Transport immediately issued a statement assuring the public that there were no plans to change the train system—yet.
As for I.N.? He was already boarding a flight to his next stop.

Third Stop: Brazil
In Brazil, President I.N. was received with the warm hospitality that the country was known for. Samba rhythms filled the air, and vibrant colors painted every corner. But I.N. wasn’t there for the dancing or the beautiful beaches. No, his mind was set on one thing: football.
As the world’s most popular sport, football was sacred in Brazil. But President I.N. knew that just a little hint of disruption could turn the game on its head.
“I’m just saying,” he casually remarked to reporters at a press conference, “Brazil has the best football players in the world. But what if, just what if, the World Cup was played with… soccer balls in the shape of disco balls? The future of football is... dancing, right?”
The room froze. No one knew how to react. A few chuckled awkwardly, but the news spread like wildfire. The question of whether soccer balls should be disco balls became the next viral debate, with some people claiming it would make the sport more “entertaining” while others declared it a national disgrace.
Before anyone could even process the idea, President I.N. was on his way to the next country.

Fourth Stop: Germany
In Berlin, President I.N. knew exactly what he had to do. The Germans were famous for their precision, order, and no-nonsense attitude—so he decided to get... well, a little disorderly.
“I must say,” I.N. said, sipping his coffee in front of a crowd of business leaders, “the German autobahn is amazing. But you know what would make it even better? What if we added some surprises along the way—secret detours, unmarked roads, maybe even some dead-ends just to keep people on their toes?”
The audience blinked in confusion.
“A road system full of mystery,” I.N. continued. “A journey you don’t control. A place where the road decides where you go. The thrill of the unknown.”
That night, Twitter in Germany exploded with confusion. Would this be a new traffic law? Had President I.N. really suggested a mystery autobahn? Thousands of Germans started petitioning against the idea of randomly placed detours and closed lanes, and there was heated debate about whether their beloved autobahn would be ruined.
But by the time the dust settled, I.N. was once again on a private jet, flying to his next destination.

Fifth Stop: Australia
I.N. arrived in Australia with one goal in mind: kangaroos. He’d been dying to see the iconic creatures up close, and he’d also noticed that Australia’s national zoo was famous for its conservation efforts. Naturally, his mind went straight to… chaos.
“You know,” he said casually during a visit to a kangaroo sanctuary, “what if we started breeding kangaroos to be... bigger? Like, the size of small horses. Imagine the impact on tourism! Australia could be the first country to have kangaroo races!”
The sanctuary workers looked horrified. Animal rights activists picked up on the idea and immediately launched a campaign against “giant kangaroo breeding” before even realizing it was just an offhand comment from a visiting president. Australia’s news stations were flooded with mixed reactions—some people thought it was a hilarious idea, others thought it was unethical.
And President I.N.? He was sipping a coconut water on the beach, soaking up the sun as he texted Stray Kids about his next world tour.

Final Stop: The United States
I.N. returned to the U.S., but not as a president—oh no—he was back as an international enigma. A phantom. His staff had been trying to reach him for days, but every time they’d manage to contact him, he’d simply shrug and say:
“Oh, did something happen? I was just out there having fun. Not my problem.”
It wasn’t long before the global chaos he’d stirred started to settle, and countries began to realize—maybe they were overreacting. Maybe they were just a little too attached to their traditions, a little too set in their ways. Maybe a little bit of chaos wasn’t the worst thing for the world after all.
President I.N., for his part, sat back in his office, watching it all unfold on the news. He took a long sip of his coffee and whispered with a smirk, “Mission accomplished.”

Chapter Text

It all started innocently enough.
President I.N., back from his whirlwind tour of international disruption, had a small, curious problem: He wanted a kangaroo. Not just any kangaroo, but the biggest, most majestic one he could find. A creature that could match his larger-than-life persona.
After visiting Australia, where he’d jokingly suggested breeding giant kangaroos (a comment that, for the record, still caused minor diplomatic uproar), I.N. couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d fallen in love with the idea of having a kangaroo as his personal mascot. But there was just one little issue—the White House.
“Why can’t I have a kangaroo at the White House?” he muttered to himself, sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office. The thought of his office and its pristine decor filled with a lively kangaroo was... well, the kind of absurd joy he lived for.
The problem, of course, was that wild animals weren’t allowed inside government buildings—especially not in the Oval Office, and definitely not a kangaroo that could potentially kick an intern halfway across the room if it got startled.
But for President I.N., that was just a minor inconvenience. If there was one thing he was good at, it was bending the rules with style.

Step One: The Plan
He couldn’t just walk into a zoo and pick out the most adorable kangaroo. No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. He needed something more covert. So, I.N. called in his most trusted ally—the White House Chief of Staff, Carla.
“I need a favor, Carla,” I.N. said, trying to keep his voice casual.
Carla, who had long since given up trying to figure out the logic behind I.N.'s wild requests, raised an eyebrow. “What kind of favor are we talking about, Mr. President?”
“A kangaroo,” I.N. said, leaning back in his chair. “I want one. And I need it delivered discreetly.”
Carla blinked. “A kangaroo? Are you out of your mind? You’re the President of the United States! We can’t just smuggle a kangaroo into the White House!”
I.N. smiled his signature, mischievous grin. “You’re thinking too small, Carla. We can do this. I’ll handle the logistics, you handle the distractions.”
Carla sighed. “Right, because that always goes smoothly. I’ll get the security team to block off all the exits.”
“No, no. I want it to be a grand entrance,” he said, gleaming. “We’ll sneak it in through the back, maybe in an ice cream truck.”
“A what?” Carla asked, almost choking on her coffee.
“You’ll see. Trust me, Carla. This is going to be legendary.”

Step Two: The Great Kangaroo Heist
President I.N. had secured a small kangaroo from a private Australian animal farm (don’t ask how). He even gave the kangaroo a name—“Roo-volution.” The name had just the right amount of flair for the first-ever kangaroo residing in the White House.
The plan was simple: sneak the kangaroo into the White House in a way no one would expect.

Attempt One: The Ice Cream Truck
The first attempt was the most disastrous.
I.N. had arranged for a delivery of premium ice cream to be brought into the White House, knowing the staff would be distracted by the sudden, unexpected treat. As the truck rolled up to the back gate, I.N. himself was wearing a giant mustache and glasses in an attempt to blend in (because who would suspect the President in disguise?).
“Are you sure this will work?” Carla asked, eyeing him suspiciously from behind the security gates.
“Absolutely,” I.N. said, grinning like a kid on Christmas. “Who can say no to ice cream?”
The doors of the truck opened, and out jumped I.N. in his ridiculous mustache and sunglasses, with a small cage tucked under his arm. He casually sauntered toward the back door, while the Secret Service staff were too busy marveling at the “free ice cream” to notice that the kangaroo was hopping out of the cage behind him.
Carla stared in horror as the kangaroo began bounding wildly across the lawn, bouncing toward the White House's front steps.
“Mr. President!” Carla shouted, realizing what had happened. “The kangaroo—!”
By the time I.N. was inside the building, the kangaroo was gone, hopping straight toward the Rose Garden. And now, every Secret Service agent was chasing after it, shouting at the top of their lungs.
It was mayhem.
I.N. walked calmly through the doors of the White House, admiring the chaos he'd left in his wake. “Well, that didn’t work. But I’m not giving up.”

Attempt Two: The Diplomatic Box
The next plan involved a much more refined approach—one that wouldn’t involve public chaos.
President I.N. decided to disguise the kangaroo as a gift from Australia—a “token of international friendship,” he said. The kangaroo would be packaged in a giant gift box, and I.N. would “present” it to the White House staff as part of a new diplomatic initiative.
The plan was going perfectly—until the box began hopping.
Inside the Oval Office, I.N. was attempting to give a speech about “promoting wildlife conservation and good relations with Australia,” when suddenly, the box started to jiggle. And then, with a loud thud, a kangaroo’s head popped out of the side, its ears twitching and its tail whipping around.
Secret Service agents froze, staring at the kangaroo, which was now awkwardly standing in the middle of the Oval Office, looking like it had just walked in on a meeting.
“What is this?!” one agent asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Before anyone could react, I.N. jumped to his feet. “Roo-volution is here to celebrate unity!” he announced with a flourish.
The room went silent. And then... a very serious conversation began about “White House pet policies” and “national security risks.” I.N. was immediately escorted out of the room by Carla.

Attempt Three: The Disguised Kangaroo Costume
Desperate, I.N. decided to go full theatrical. He dressed up in a kangaroo costume himself and tried to sneak the real kangaroo into the White House as part of a “special performance for the press corps.” The plan was simple: he’d walk into the press room wearing the costume, and the kangaroo would be hidden inside a giant pouch on his front.
The first part of the plan went perfectly. I.N. walked in, giving an exaggerated kangaroo hop with the fake pouch—only to have the real kangaroo start kicking inside the costume, causing him to stumble awkwardly across the floor.
“Oh no,” I.N. muttered under his breath as the kangaroo inside his pouch leapt out. “This isn’t supposed to happen. Stay in there, Roo!”
But it was too late. The kangaroo was now on the loose, hopping freely through the press room, knocking over podiums, dodging reporters, and causing complete chaos. I.N. was caught between trying to calm the kangaroo and trying to keep up appearances.
“This is fine,” he said, grinning through the mayhem. “Everything’s under control.”

Step Four: A Disastrous Victory
Eventually, after countless failed attempts to sneak Roo-volution into the White House, President I.N. decided that the kangaroo’s official arrival had to be... a grand event.
On national television, he walked onto the White House lawn, holding the kangaroo on a leash. “Today, I present to you Roo-volution—the official mascot of my administration!”
The crowd went wild. But it wasn’t long before Secret Service began placing calls to animal control and emergency services, realizing they were dealing with a wild kangaroo who was now bouncing freely across the lawn, scaring interns, knocking over potted plants, and causing full-on chaos.
Carla rubbed her temples. “Mr. President… Why?”
With a wink, I.N. raised his hands. “Because everyone needs a kangaroo in their lives. Welcome to the revolution, Carla!”

Chapter Text

It started with a tweet.

@PresidentJeongin: Effective immediately, Mondays are officially canceled. You're welcome. #NoMoreMondays

Stray Kids’ dorm, 7:00 a.m.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU CANCELED MONDAY?!” Bang Chan shouted, nearly dropping his coffee as he stared at the TV screen.

On the news, Jeongin—flawlessly dressed in a sharp navy suit—stood behind a podium, waving to a crowd of cheering citizens. “It is my pleasure to announce that, after much deliberation, I have signed the Monday Abolition Act. From now on, we will skip directly from Sunday to Tuesday. Thank you.”

The camera zoomed in on Jeongin’s smug smile as confetti rained down behind him.

“This is a joke, right?” Lee Know asked, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Nope.” Han pointed at the screen, where people were already throwing “Bye Bye Monday” parties. “He’s serious.”

Day 1: The Realization

At first, everyone was thrilled. No more Mondays meant no more post-weekend dread, no more dragging themselves out of bed for early schedules.

“It’s genius,” Hyunjin said, lounging on the couch and scrolling through memes about Monday’s demise. “Jeongin might be the best president ever.”

But then the cracks started to show.

“Wait,” Seungmin said, looking up from his planner. “If there’s no Monday, what happens to everything scheduled for Monday? Like, practice?”

“And our meetings?” Bang Chan added, already sweating.

“Eh, just move them to Tuesday,” Han suggested, munching on a bag of chips.

“Tuesday is already packed!” Seungmin snapped. “This is going to ruin everything!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Mingi chimed in from his gaming station.

“Wrong group, Mingi!” everyone shouted at once.

Day 2: The Chaos Begins

By skipping Monday, the world lost an entire day of preparation. Meetings were double-booked, deadlines clashed, and people had no idea what day it actually was.

“Hyung, where’s our schedule?” Jeongin asked innocently during breakfast.

“You canceled Monday,” Chan groaned, clutching his head. “The scheduler is a mess! Everything is backed up. Even the company doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“It’s fine,” Jeongin said breezily. “Just skip it!”

“YOU CAN’T JUST SKIP WORK, JEONGIN!” Chan shouted.

“Technically, you can,” Jeongin replied, sipping his juice.

Day 3: The Protests

While some people loved the new Monday-free life, others were struggling.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Lee Know grumbled, scrolling through social media, “but people are protesting to bring back Monday.”

“Why?” Hyunjin asked, horrified.

“Apparently, teachers are complaining they don’t have enough time to cover material, offices are overwhelmed, and calendar companies are suing because they have to redesign everything,” Seungmin explained.

“Can’t they just get over it?” Han said. “Mondays sucked anyway.”

“Exactly!” Jeongin said, striding into the room like he hadn’t just caused global chaos. “I liberated humanity from Monday. They should be thanking me.”

“Jeongin, you’ve created a time disaster,” Chan muttered.

Day 5: The Meltdown

By the end of the week, things were falling apart.

“HYUNG, THERE’S NO MORE FOOD DELIVERY!” Felix wailed, holding an empty snack bag.

“Why not?” Jeongin asked, confused.

“Because restaurants don’t know when to restock,” Felix said, throwing his hands in the air. “Monday was their inventory day!”

“Guys,” Hyunjin said, running into the room, “the hairstylists canceled our appointment. Apparently, their whole week is booked now because everyone moved their Monday appointments to other days.”

“We haven’t even practiced properly,” Seungmin added. “We’re doomed for our next stage.”

The group turned to Jeongin, who looked less smug than before.

“Okay, maybe this is a little more complicated than I thought…” Jeongin admitted.

“Ya think?!” Chan yelled.

The Resolution

Two days later, Jeongin held another press conference.

“I have heard your concerns,” he began, looking uncharacteristically serious. “And after careful consideration, I am reversing the Monday Abolition Act. Mondays will return starting next week. Thank you for your patience.”

Back at the dorm, the members sat in stunned silence.

“You caved,” Lee Know said, smirking.

“I fixed my mistake,” Jeongin corrected.

“Admit it, you missed Monday,” Han teased.

“Never,” Jeongin said, crossing his arms.

Despite the teasing, the group couldn’t help but laugh.

“Next time,” Chan said, patting Jeongin’s shoulder, “maybe consult us before signing a global decree?”

“Fine,” Jeongin grumbled, but the small smile on his face betrayed him.

As the dorm erupted into bickering, Chan sighed. At least Monday—and the chaos—was back where it belonged.

Chapter Text

It was an ordinary day at the White House—or it was supposed to be. I.N. was supposed to be sitting in the Oval Office, meeting with world leaders about pressing international issues. Instead, he was sitting at his desk, staring at a strange book titled “Dragons of the World: Myths or Reality?”
“Hmm… dragons...” he muttered to himself, flipping through the pages, his finger tracing the illustrations of enormous, scaly creatures with wings like sails.
Carla, his ever-stressed Chief of Staff, burst in, holding a stack of briefings. “Mr. President, we need to discuss the ongoing trade negotiations with Japan. And then there’s the emergency summit with the European Union. And—”
“I’m going dragon hunting,” I.N. interrupted, standing up suddenly and grabbing a map of the world.
Carla froze mid-sentence. “Excuse me?”
I.N. didn’t even look up from the map. “Dragons. They’re real. I’ve found proof. And I’m going to find one. Right now.”
Carla blinked twice. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re the president of the United States! We’ve got a country to run, and you’re going off to find dragons?”
“Yep,” I.N. said with a grin, not even breaking a sweat. “Not my problem.”

The Search Begins
It didn’t take long for word to spread that President I.N. was leaving the White House to embark on an epic quest. Staffers exchanged worried glances as I.N. marched out of the Oval Office, wearing his signature leather jacket over a t-shirt that read “Dragons Are Real.”
“Mr. President, you can’t just leave! We have national security issues, global crises, and—” Carla trailed off, but I.N. was already heading for the exit.
“Hey, guys, I’m going dragon hunting!” he called over his shoulder, giving a thumbs-up.
“I’ll handle this,” Vice President Aria said, with a forced smile. “You all go… try to find dragons.”
I.N. simply nodded. “That’s the plan. You’ve got this. Just make sure everything’s going okay while I’m gone. I’ll be back with something amazing!”

The Hunt for Dragons
I.N.’s first stop: a remote mountain range in Nepal, where rumors of a dragon sighting had emerged. As he climbed up the rugged terrain, he was greeted by a group of local guides who were extremely confused to see the President of the United States asking about dragons.
“Excuse me, my friend,” one of the guides said carefully, “You are the president?”
“That’s right!” I.N. grinned. “Now, show me where the dragons are. I’m here to find them.”
The guide, unsure of how to respond, simply gestured to the mountains. “Well, there are many caves. We have heard strange sounds, but… dragons?”
“Yes, dragons!” I.N. said, eyes wide with excitement. “I know they’re here. Just trust me.”
Back in Washington, Carla was pacing in the Situation Room, staring at the live broadcast of I.N. hiking up a mountain in Nepal. She could hear him shouting into the camera.
“I’m gonna find it, guys! A real dragon! This is gonna be legendary!”
“Carla,” Maya, the Press Secretary, said, coming into the room, “What are we supposed to say? The President of the United States is… chasing dragons?”
“I don’t know!” Carla exclaimed, exasperated. “We’ve got crises everywhere, and he’s out in the mountains looking for some mythical creature! I need him back now!”

Meanwhile... On a Mountain Top
I.N. had just reached the top of the mountain. His eyes gleamed with excitement. “This is it. I can feel it,” he said to himself, gazing at the vast, rocky landscape.
Suddenly, there was a noise—a deep rumble. The ground shook beneath him. I.N.’s face lit up. “It’s happening. It’s happening!”
He turned to the camera, ready to document the moment. “Alright, people, here it is! The first-ever live dragon hunt, brought to you by President I.N.!”
And then—nothing. The rumbling stopped. The mountains were eerily quiet again.
“Uh... I’m sure it’s just getting ready to reveal itself. Dragons take time, right?” I.N. said, nervously looking around.
Back in the White House, Carla was watching the stream, her hands gripping the table. “This is insane. The economy is crashing, and the president is chasing dragons!”
Suddenly, a call came through from the Vice President. “Carla, we need him back! The UN summit is in five minutes, and he’s not answering his phone!”
Carla was about to respond when she saw I.N. on the screen again, his face red from the mountain air. “Sorry, guys, no dragon yet… but don’t worry! I’m sure one will turn up! You know, dragons don’t always show themselves when you want them to. It’s like… mysterious and majestic. I’m committed, though! I’m on this, people!”

The Great Return (or Lack Thereof)
Back in Washington, I.N. was starting to gain international attention for his strange quest. People were starting to forget the national crises and becoming more intrigued by their dragon-hunting president.
“Maybe it’s a good distraction,” Maya said, glancing at the TV where I.N. was currently singing to himself in front of an empty cave, convinced that the dragons were just waiting for the perfect moment to appear.
But then, news came in that the stock market had crashed even further, and tensions in Eastern Europe were escalating. The world was spiraling, and the President of the United States was... singing songs to an empty mountain?
“I need him back now,” Carla finally said, taking action. “We have to stop this madness.”

The Dragon’s Revelation
Days passed. I.N. continued his quest, even building a dragon-catching contraption out of rope, pulleys, and a giant net. Nothing was working.
Until finally, just as the world was about to implode without him, I.N. had a revelation.
“You know what?” I.N. said, standing atop a mountain peak. “Maybe the real dragon... was the friends we made along the way!”
He looked into the camera, grinning. “I don’t need a real dragon. I’ve got this beautiful, mythical country to lead! Time to go back, people!”
And so, the President of the United States returned, having learned absolutely nothing about solving real problems. Carla, upon hearing of his return, was speechless.
“Mr. President, you do realize the country is on fire, right?”
I.N. grinned confidently. “You know what? I did a lot of soul searching out there. Now, I’m ready to conquer the dragons of diplomacy. Let’s fix this!”
Carla buried her face in her hands. This was going to be a very long presidential term.

Epilogue:
Months later, I.N. still insisted that dragons existed, but now he was convinced they lived somewhere in the “heart of diplomacy.” World leaders began sending him dragon-themed gifts in hopes of receiving his attention. It was a bizarre era, but somehow, the world had adjusted to having a dragon-hunting, mythical creature-obsessed president.

Chapter Text

It was a day like any other in the White House—well, mostly. The staff was buzzing with activity, papers flying, phones ringing, and President I.N. was supposed to be reviewing an urgent national security briefing. But where was he?
Not in the Oval Office.
Instead, he was backstage at Madison Square Garden, standing next to his fellow Stray Kids members, warming up for their big performance. His hands were in the air, ready to go, when a staff member burst into his dressing room, panicked.
“Mr. President!” The aide’s eyes were wide. “You need to get back to the White House! There’s a situation with the economy, and we need you to—”
I.N. held up a hand, grinning. “Hold on, hold on. I’m just about to drop my solo stage. The people need to hear me rap, and I can’t leave them hanging!”
The aide’s face twitched with the tension of diplomatic urgency. “Sir, the country is literally on the verge of a crisis. You can't be serious about this concert right now!”
I.N. adjusted his leather jacket, his signature "Presidential" swag, and shot the aide a wink. “You don’t understand. The fans are waiting. They’re counting on me. We’re counting on me!”
The aide, still frazzled, tried to get a grip on the situation. “Mr. President, this is serious. You can’t just abandon the country like this!”
“I’m not abandoning anyone,” I.N. said with a smirk, taking a microphone and testing it. “I’m going to save the country with the power of music! Let’s call it… ‘Presidential Performance Diplomacy.’”

Back at the White House…
The rest of the staff was in a full-blown panic. Carla, the Chief of Staff, was pacing around the Situation Room, talking to the Vice President, who was nervously flipping through notes on the state of international relations. “I can’t believe this is happening. He’s supposed to be running the country, not performing at a concert. We’re in the middle of a trade negotiation, and he’s in New York with a microphone!”
Vice President Aria looked up, rubbing her temples. “I don’t even know how to begin managing this. Should we interrupt the concert? Should we announce that the President is on a ‘musical diplomacy mission’?”
Carla slammed a hand on the table. “The President can’t just decide to drop everything and sing! We have a national economic collapse happening right now!”
Meanwhile, a junior staffer walked in with the news that President I.N. had just taken the stage with Stray Kids. The security footage showed him waving to the crowd, his face beaming with that trademark confidence. The crowd was losing its mind.

Backstage at Madison Square Garden...
I.N. was in his element. The lights were blinding, the crowd was screaming, and the music was pumping through the speakers. He stood with Stray Kids, riling up the crowd as they prepared for the next song.
“This is it, guys!” he shouted into the mic. “We’re going to give them the show of a lifetime!”
The members of Stray Kids looked at each other, all slightly nervous about their “special guest” suddenly becoming the focus of the concert.
“We should’ve probably told them he was the President,” Bang Chan murmured, half-grinning. “This might be a little more chaotic than we expected.”
I.N. winked. “It’s all part of the plan. Let’s make history, guys.”
Suddenly, a call came through on his phone. He glanced at the screen. It was Carla.
“President I.N.,” she said, her voice sharp. “Where are you? You’re needed in the Situation Room right now! The stock market just tanked, and the global summit with China is in crisis. You can’t just run off and perform. The country needs you!”
I.N. paused, holding the phone away from his ear as the sound of screaming fans reached his eardrums. “I can’t. Not right now. I’m in the middle of something important.”
He switched the phone to speaker mode, so his entire audience of 20,000 could hear Carla’s frantic voice. “Mr. President, get back here immediately!”
I.N. smiled and tossed the phone up in the air, letting it land softly in the hands of a nearby security guard. “Sorry, Carla,” he said into the mic, “but I’ve got fans to entertain. You can handle this for a bit, right?”
He turned to Stray Kids and the audience, who were all watching him with rapt attention. “Let’s give them something to remember!” he shouted.
With that, they dove into an electrifying performance of God’s Menu, with I.N. delivering an impromptu rap about “leadership” and “world peace” that made no sense but sounded completely epic. The crowd went wild.

Meanwhile, back at the White House…
Carla was pacing in the Situation Room, trying to hold it together. The Vice President was on the phone with international leaders, while she reviewed several national security reports. “This is unbelievable,” she muttered. “How does one man… one President… manage to throw everything into chaos just to perform?”
Her phone buzzed with another alert. A new poll was released showing I.N.’s approval rating had skyrocketed—after his impromptu concert. “What the hell?” she muttered, reading the numbers. “We’re in the middle of a crisis, and he’s out there doing a concert, and this is somehow good for his approval rating?”

Back at Madison Square Garden…
I.N. was now standing on stage with Stray Kids, doing the iconic “idol handshake” with fans in the front row. It was total pandemonium, but I.N. was thriving.
A final phone call came through—this time from Maya, his Press Secretary. “Sir,” she said, barely able to contain her frustration, “We need you back in the Oval Office. We’ve got an international incident on our hands, and we can’t do this without you.”
I.N. was completely unfazed. “Maya, listen. I’m doing this for the greater good. You’ll handle the international incident. I’ll handle the international crowd. The world needs music, and right now, they need me.”
He held the mic up, grinning. “Stray Kids and I are going to rock the world, one song at a time. I’ll be back to save the day tomorrow. But tonight? It’s my time to shine.”

A Few Hours Later...
The concert ended with an encore so loud that the walls of the venue seemed to shake. Fans were still screaming as I.N. stepped offstage, feeling triumphant. His phone buzzed again. Carla’s name popped up.
Sighing, he answered. “Alright, I’m back. What’s the crisis?”
“Nothing too major,” Carla said, trying to keep it together. “But the stock market is still shaky, and you did miss the emergency summit. The world is wondering where the President is...”
I.N. laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome. I just helped boost global morale. And trust me, that’s a win for everyone.”

Chapter Text

President Yang Jeongin was bored. Not with his job—he took his duties somewhat seriously—but with the way he entered his job.

Every day, it was the same: walk through the grand doors of the Presidential Palace, nod at the staff, sit in a chair. Dull. Lifeless. Unworthy of his status as the coolest president in the nation's history.

And so, after a particularly mind-numbing budget meeting, he made a decision.

He needed a better way to enter meetings.

—

"You're going to what?" Chan, his Chief of Staff, looked absolutely exhausted, which was not uncommon, but Jeongin liked to think he contributed to it in unique ways.

"Jump out of a helicopter," Jeongin repeated, swinging his legs idly over the armrest of his chair. "Straight into the next meeting. BAM. Instant respect. Maximum efficiency."

Chan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sir, do you understand how many things are wrong with that plan?"

Jeongin shrugged. "I don't see the issue."

"The issue," Seungmin, his Press Secretary, deadpanned, "is that you would be skydiving into a room that has a roof."

Jeongin considered this. "...Right."

"Also," Seungmin continued, flipping through his notes, "you have a meeting with the agricultural department today. Do you really want to plummet through the ceiling just to discuss wheat subsidies?"

Jeongin frowned. "Fine. I’ll think of something else."

—

"Sir. I beg you. Just walk into the room like a normal person." Chan’s plea fell on deaf ears as he watched, in horror, as construction workers installed a giant waterslide that started from Jeongin’s office and ended directly in the middle of the presidential conference room.

"Nonsense, Chan. This is innovation."

"This is lunacy."

"This is HISTORY."

"This is coming out of your personal budget."

Jeongin gasped, scandalized. "You wound me."

—

The first test run was, objectively, a disaster.

Jeongin entered the conference room at Mach speed, hydroplaned across the glossy table, and sent half the cabinet diving for cover. Papers flew. A laptop crashed to the floor. The Minister of Finance screamed.

Jeongin, meanwhile, sat up, grinning. "Perfect landing!"

Chan buried his face in his hands. "Sir, please."

—

In the end, Jeongin begrudgingly agreed to occasionally enter meetings like a normal person.

But only occasionally.

Because, as history would one day remember, President Yang Jeongin was not just a great leader.

He was a legend.

Chapter Text

President Yang Jeongin had never been one for tradition. Sure, he showed up to meetings, signed important papers (sometimes in crayon, just to keep people on their toes), and gave speeches about the “future of democracy” or whatever—but he firmly believed that being president should be fun.

That’s why he carried around a foam sword at all times.

At first, people thought it was a joke. A gimmick. A harmless bit of flair to lighten up the stuffy halls of government. But then… the bonking started.

“Mr. President, with all due respect—”

BONK.

A senator rubbed his head, looking personally offended. “Sir, did you just—”

“Yes,” Jeongin said simply, resting the foam sword against his shoulder. “Next question.”

Over time, the bonks became strategic. Disrespectful lawmakers? Bonked. Journalists who asked boring questions? Bonked. World leaders who took themselves too seriously? Bonked.

The citizens, however, were less enthusiastic.

“I was just walking down the street,” a man ranted on the news. “And BOOM—bonked out of nowhere!”

“He hit me in the middle of a press conference,” a political analyst complained. “I lost my train of thought!”

“My child got bonked,” a mother seethed. “He loved it, but that’s not the point!”

Despite the growing controversy, Jeongin remained unfazed. The foam sword was a part of him now. A national treasure, even.

And he had support.

“He’s a genius,” Minho said, watching as Jeongin bopped a particularly annoying billionaire on the head. “This is real leadership.”

“Honestly, I don’t see the problem,” Felix agreed. “The world needs more bonks.”

“I wish I’d thought of it first,” Seungmin muttered.

“I can make him a new one,” Chan offered. “Stronger. Faster. Maybe with LED lights—”

Jeongin overheard and gasped. “Hyung, that’s brilliant.”

And so, the foam sword was upgraded. Now it glowed in the dark. Now it had sound effects.

Now, every bonk echoed with a resounding “FOOMPH” throughout the White House.

The people remained outraged.

“He’s making a mockery of this country!” a senator wailed.

But the youth? The people who understood true power? They rallied behind him.

Memes flooded the internet. #BonkForDemocracy trended daily. A movement began—one dedicated to upholding the sacred art of the bonk.

And when re-election season arrived, Jeongin stood at the podium, sword in hand, and said just one thing:

“Four more years?”

The crowd erupted.

Victory was inevitable.

Chapter Text

President Yang Jeongin sat at the head of the grand conference table, beaming. Around him, his newly appointed cabinet members settled into their seats—some curling up, some wagging tails, and one trying to eat a government document. Chan, his ever-suffering Chief of Staff, was pinching the bridge of his nose so hard ilooked like he might pass out.

“Innie,” he said, voice strained, “why are there… pets. In the Cabinet?” Jeongin leaned back in his chair, sipping a juice box. “Because government is about trust, and I trust them with my whole heart.” Chan looked like he was about to ascend to another plane of existence. Seungmin, Press Secretary and long-time witness to Jeongin’s crimes against professionalism, just sighed. “Alright. Let’s get this over with. Who’s doing what?” Jeongin clapped his hands. “Glad you asked!”
A projector flickered to life, displaying a PowerPoint slide titled: "A Pawsitive Change in Leadership!"

Secretary of Defense: Dori (Minho’s’ cat)
Dori immediately declared war on the White House curtains and was last seen clawing at a general’s uniform. All military strategies were now based on whether or not Dori was in the mood for violence.

Secretary of Agriculture: Kkami (Hyunjin’s dog)
Kkami rolled around in the Rose Garden and ate an important trade agreement before anyone could read it. Farmers nationwide were now receiving subsidies in the form of belly rubs and treats.

Secretary of Treasury: Berry (Chan's dog)
Berry knocked over a stack of budget reports and then walked across a keyboard, accidentally wiring half the country’s funds into a Swiss bank account named "MiaowMiaow1337." Chan was devastated. “She’s trying her best,” he whispered.

Attorney General: Ppoppi (Seungmin’s dog)
Ppoppi’s method of resolving legal disputes involved intense staring contests. Whoever blinked first was found guilty. The Supreme Court was in absolute shambles.

Secretary of Transportation: Soonie, Doongie, and Dori (Minho’s cats)
All cars were banned because the trio found them “too loud.” The entire nation was now a pedestrian zone. Minho refused to see the issue.

Secretary of Energy: Jeongin’s Fish (Name Undisclosed)
The fish contributed nothing, but Jeongin insisted its presence was “inspirational.”

One week into the new administration, the government had effectively collapsed.
“I swear to God, Jeongin—” Chan slammed a newspaper on the desk. “Look at this headline! ‘NATION IN CRISIS: TREASURY EMPTIED BY STRAY CAT’—”
Jeongin waved a hand dismissively. “Fake news.”
Seungmin, sipping coffee like it was the only thing keeping him from screaming, scrolled through Twitter. “There’s a petition to impeach Dori.”
Jeongin gasped. “Over one little international incident?”
“That ‘one little incident’ involved her clawing a foreign ambassador in the face.”
“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have looked at her funny.”
Chan groaned into his hands. “The country is in shambles, Jeongin.”
Hyunjin, who had been watching this entire disaster unfold, nodded sagely. “Yeah, but the vibes are great.”
And honestly? That was enough for Jeongin.

Chapter Text

The Situation Room was in chaos. Advisors shouted over one another, papers were flying, and Chan—ever the voice of reason—was desperately trying to keep his blood pressure at a survivable level. In the middle of it all, President Yang Jeongin sat with his feet propped up on the table, looking way too relaxed for a man who had just signed an executive order approving the first-ever dinosaur cloning project.

“Innie,” Chan said, voice dangerously thin, “please tell me this is a joke.” Jeongin grinned. “Nope! We’re making dinosaurs.” Chan inhaled sharply through his nose. “And why, exactly, are we doing that?” Jeongin threw his hands up. “Because dinosaurs are cool, obviously.”

Seungmin, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling like he was questioning all his life choices, finally spoke. “Jeongin. Have you seen Jurassic Park?” “Of course,” Jeongin said. “It was awesome.” Seungmin’s eye twitched. “That was a horror movie.” “Eh.” Jeongin waved him off. “More like an adventure movie.”

The advisors erupted into another round of panicked shouting.
“This is a national security nightmare!”
“We don’t even have the infrastructure to contain them!”
“What if they escape?!”

Through all of this, the rest of Stray Kids sat off to the side, absolutely delighted. “This is the best idea I’ve ever heard,” Hyunjin whispered, eyes shining. “I can ride a raptor to work,” Felix said dreamily. Minho leaned forward. “Are we talking, like, just herbivores, or can we get a T-Rex?” Jeongin pointed at him. “I like the way you think.” Seungmin groaned. “Oh my God, they’re encouraging him.” Chan slammed his hands on the table. “Jeongin, please. If this goes wrong, we’ll go down in history as the administration that brought back prehistoric murder lizards.”

Jeongin tilted his head. “Or,” he countered, “we’ll go down as the coolest administration ever.” Hyunjin clapped. “He’s so right.” Chan was about to have an aneurysm.

One Month Later
The dinosaurs were very much real. The White House now had a dinosaur habitat on the lawn, because Jeongin refused to keep them in a lab. A triceratops casually roamed the Rose Garden. A group of velociraptors had taken over the basketball court.
And, as expected, things were not going well.

“There’s a pterodactyl on the Washington Monument,” Seungmin read from his phone. “It won’t come down.” Minho, holding a clipboard and wearing sunglasses like he was thriving in this disaster, nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right.” “The Secretary of Defense was chased down the hall by a raptor,” Seungmin continued. “He has officially resigned.” Hyunjin hummed. “Weak.”

Chan looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. “Jeongin. I am begging you. Shut this down before we have a full-blown dinosaur uprising.”
Jeongin considered it. “Hmm.”
Chan looked hopeful.
Jeongin grinned. “Nah.”
Hyunjin, Minho, and Felix cheered.
Seungmin put his head in his hands.
And thus, the world entered the age of Jurassic Democracy

Chapter Text

President Yang Jeongin had officially stopped using cars, planes, or even helicopters for transportation.
Why bother when he had a T-Rex? The dinosaur’s name was Chompy. Jeongin rode him everywhere—the White House, Congress, international summits. It was majestic, powerful, absolutely terrifying—and also a complete nightmare for his staff.

"THE PRESIDENT CANNOT RIDE A DINOSAUR TO WORK.” Chan had yelled that exact sentence at least thirty times in the last week alone, more than he ever thought he’d have to. And every time, Jeongin had responded the same way: "Why not?” Chan gestured wildly at the news playing on the TV.

BREAKING NEWS: PRESIDENT YANG ARRIVES AT PEACE SUMMIT ON BACK OF A T-REX, FOREIGN LEADERS FLEE IN TERROR.

“They’re being dramatic,” Jeongin shrugged. "They’re filing COMPLAINTS,” Seungmin deadpanned. “International complaints.” Jeongin clicked his tongue. “Boring.”

Minho, sipping a coffee in the corner, looked unimpressed. “They just don’t understand what it means to be iconic.” Felix nodded in agreement. “This is a power move. We’re showing strength.”

“Chompy ATE a senator,” Chan hissed. There was a long pause. Jeongin tilted his head. “Well… was he important?” Chan looked ready to throw himself out a window. “YES.”

Hyunjin, lounging on the couch, waved a dismissive hand. “Okay, but hear me out—if you don’t want to get eaten, just run faster.” Seungmin rubbed his temples. “That’s not how government works.”

Jeongin, ignoring them, scrolled through Twitter. “Oh, look! #TyrannoPresident is trending.”
“
Sir,” an aide said, poking his head into the room, “um, Chompy just ate the Vice President.” A brief silence. Then Jeongin sighed dramatically. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll find a new one.” The staff let out a collective breath of relief.
Jeongin brightened. “Maybe a pterodactyl this time.”
Chan screamed into a pillow.

Chapter Text

The Secret Service had one simple request: "Mr. President, please stop sneaking your friends into the White House."
President Yang Jeongin, of course, took this as a challenge.

Attempt #1: The Classic Trench Coat Trick
“Sir,” an agent said flatly, staring at a suspiciously tall man wearing a trench coat and fedora. “We can see the extra legs.”
“What? No, you can’t,” the man (who was definitely three people stacked on top of each other) replied.
Chan, from somewhere inside the coat, whispered, “Jeongin, my knees are buckling—”
“Shhh, you’re ruining it!”
They were immediately escorted out.

Attempt #2: The Janitor Disguise
Jeongin confidently pushed a massive cleaning cart through the front gates, whistling.
Seungmin, sitting inside the cart under a pile of mops, muttered, “This is humiliating.”
“Shhh,” Jeongin hissed.
Felix, crouched behind a trash can on wheels, tried to stay quiet but was literally glowing thanks to his sparkly shirt.
An agent sighed. “Sir, we know that’s not a real janitor cart.”
“Pfft. Prove it.”
The cart immediately toppled over, sending Seungmin crashing to the ground in a pile of brooms.
They were escorted out again.

Attempt #3: The “Animal” Strategy
“Sir, that’s a horse.”
The Secret Service stared at the clearly fake horse standing in front of them. It had a suspiciously fluffy tail and was shaking slightly.
“Uh-huh,” Jeongin said casually. “This is my new official White House horse.”
The agent folded his arms. “And why is it… growling?”
The horse made a low, threatening sound.
“I—uh, that’s just his stomach!” Jeongin said quickly. “Horses get hungry, y’know?”
The back half of the horse (Minho) sneezed.
The agent groaned. “Sir, please tell me you didn’t shove Minho and Hyunjin inside a horse costume.”
Hyunjin’s muffled voice came from the head. “No, of course not.”
The horse suddenly collapsed as Minho shoved the costume off. “I TOLD YOU this was stupid.”
They were once again escorted out.

Attempt #4: The Statue Gambit
The next day, the White House lawn mysteriously gained eight new statues.
The statues were very lifelike.
Too lifelike.
The Secret Service stared at the one statue that was very obviously Felix.
“…Sir, why is this statue wearing Crocs?”
“I don’t know,” Jeongin shrugged. “Art is weird.”
Seungmin, who had been holding still for ten minutes, cracked. “THIS IS SO STUPID—”
The agents immediately tackled them.
Escorted out. Again.

Finally, the Secret Service had had enough.
“Sir, if you want them in the White House so badly, just—just give them clearance.”
Jeongin blinked. “Wait. I can do that?”
The agents nearly collapsed.
“YES. YOU ARE THE PRESIDENT.”
Jeongin grinned. “Oh. Cool! Then yeah, they can come in.”
Seungmin looked like he wanted to strangle him. “You let us suffer for nothing?!”
Jeongin patted his shoulder. “No, no. We learned something today.”
Hyunjin frowned. “And what exactly did we learn?”
Jeongin grinned.
“That I look amazing in a mustache disguise.”

Chapter Text

The Stray Kids world tour had officially reached Washington, D.C. The venue was packed, the energy was electric, and among the thousands of excited fans sat President Yang Jeongin, flanked by his deeply concerned bodyguards.
“This is nice,” the Vice President whispered, relieved that for once, Jeongin seemed content just watching from his VIP seat.
That was their first mistake.

Halfway through the concert.
Felix was mid-verse, the bass was shaking the venue, the crowd was screaming—
And then, out of nowhere, President I.N vaulted onto the stage.
Pandemonium.
The audience went feral. Secret Service agents lost their minds. Chan, mid-dance, nearly tripped and died.
“What the—?!” Seungmin yelped as Jeongin grabbed a mic from backstage.
The music cut out.
The crowd froze.
The Vice President nearly fainted.
Jeongin raised the mic to his lips, the stadium dead silent.
And then, to everyone’s horror, he started rapping.

THE RAP:
“Yo, it’s President I.N in the house,
Running this country, I’m leading with clout.
I sign the bills, I make the rules,
And I ride a T-Rex straight into school—”

“OH MY GOD, SOMEONE STOP HIM,” Chan screeched.
Security scrambled onto the stage, but Jeongin dodged like a man who had been evading responsibility his whole life.
Hyunjin was on the floor wheezing. Minho had given up and was just letting it happen.
“WHY IS HE FREESTYLING?!” Seungmin shouted.
Felix hyped him up from the sidelines. “GO, MR. PRESIDENT, GO!”

Jeongin kept going.
“I got policies, I got style,
If you talk back, I’ll make it a trial.
Executive power, I’m breaking the norm,
Congress in shambles? Sounds like a storm—”

Meanwhile, the Secret Service was losing their minds.
“HE’S A NATIONAL SECURITY RISK—TO HIMSELF!” one agent yelled.
The Vice President had his head in his hands. “We’re going to get impeached. We’re actually going to get impeached.”
The stage hand was yelling at the production crew. “CUT THE MIC! CUT THE MIC!”

Too late.
Jeongin hit the final line:
“SKZ forever, you know what I mean,
Now drop that beat—AND GOD BLESS THE SCENE!”

Silence.
The audience… ROARED.
The entire stadium erupted into cheers. Twitter exploded. The rap was already trending.
Chan slumped to the floor. “I need a vacation.”
Hyunjin wiped tears from his eyes. “That was… the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”
Jeongin handed the mic back with a grin. “I think that went well.”
The Vice President turned to a Secret Service agent. “Can we arrest the President?”
The agent sighed. “No. But God, I wish we could.”

Chapter Text

It started, as most things in President Yang Jeongin’s administration did, with a completely unnecessary executive order.

The nation woke up to BREAKING NEWS: "PRESIDENT YANG DECLARES NATIONAL SLIME-MAKING HOLIDAY. WHITE HOUSE TO HOST OFFICIAL SLIME TOURNAMENT."

The Press Conference.

The Press Secretary, already looking like she regretted every career choice that led her here, cleared her throat. “The President will now take questions.”

A journalist stood. “Mr. President, why did you feel the need to make slime a federal holiday?”

Jeongin, leaning back in his chair, twirling a glob of neon green slime in his hands, smiled. “Because sometimes, the people just need to vibe.”

Silence.

Another journalist hesitantly raised a hand. “Sir… what does that mean?”

Jeongin shrugged. “Look. Running a country is stressful. Wars, the economy, traffic—it’s a lot. So, I decided to give everyone a day to just chill, make slime, and decompress.”

The Press Secretary looked like she wanted to throw herself into a volcano.

Another journalist cautiously asked, “And the slime tournament?”

Jeongin sat up, grinning. “Oh yeah. That’s real.”

The press room erupted.

“Mr. President, will there be teams?”
“Is this taxpayer-funded?!”
“Who’s on your slime squad?!”

Jeongin slammed his hand on the podium. “MY SLIME SQUAD IS ELITE.”

Minho, lounging behind him, sipped his coffee. “It’s us. We’re the slime squad.”

Chan, looking like he had aged ten years overnight, groaned. “I hate everything.”

The White House Slime Tournament

To the horror of Congress, the White House lawn was transformed into a battlefield of slime.

Long tables were set up with every color of glitter, glue, and foam beads imaginable. Judges were appointed. Spectators gathered.

Secret Service agents, standing stiffly in their suits, wiped neon goo off their sunglasses.

“Sir, we are begging you—”

“TOO LATE, THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN!” Jeongin launched a glob of slime at Chan, who barely dodged.

“HEY!” Chan shouted.

“FREE-FOR-ALL MODE ACTIVATED!” Hyunjin yelled, hurling slime at reporters.

Felix, already covered in sparkly pink slime, was living his best life. “This is the greatest day of my life.”

Seungmin, from under a table, deadpanned, “I’m filing for political asylum in another country.”

Meanwhile, Congress was in complete disarray.

“Madam Speaker,” an exhausted senator muttered, “we have actual issues to discuss—”

A slime-covered Vice President sighed. “He’s the President. What are we supposed to do?”

The Speaker of the House, wiping blue slime off her blazer, muttered, “I hate this country.”

The Aftermath.

The United Nations issued a formal complaint.

CNN labeled it “the most ridiculous White House event in history.”

The White House janitors filed an emergency request for hazard pay.

And the people? The people LOVED it.

#NationalSlimeDay trended for a week. Merch was printed. Elementary schools across the country petitioned to make it an annual event.

President Yang Jeongin, coated in slime, victorious, and grinning ear-to-ear, raised his hands to the sky.

“I HAVE UNITED THE NATION THROUGH GOO.”

Chan, from the ground, whispered, “I need to lie down.”

Chapter Text

The White House budget meeting was already off to a terrible start.
Secretary of Treasury Lee Know stared blankly at the official spending report in front of him. He had been silent for five minutes.
That was never a good sign.
Finally, he looked up and asked, in the flattest voice imaginable:
“Mr. President, why is there a $500,000 budget for a giant ice cream machine?”
The room went dead silent.
Across the table, President Yang Jeongin smiled.

"Because I want to take it apart, put myself in it, and finally find out what it’s like to live like ice cream."

There was a full thirty seconds of absolute silence. An aide, who had been mid-sip of coffee, slowly lowered his mug. “Sir… what?”
Jeongin leaned back in his chair, sighing like a man burdened with great wisdom. “Think about it. Ice cream is soft. Chill. Sweet. Everyone loves it. I just—” He stared wistfully out the window. “I want to know what that’s like.”

Lee Know rubbed his temples. “You want to experience… the existence of ice cream?” Jeongin nodded solemnly.
The room collectively lost its will to fight.
An economic advisor put her head down on the table. The Secretary of Defense looked like he wanted to launch himself into space.
Chan, sitting beside Jeongin, groaned, “I can’t believe I have to say this, but YOU CAN’T CLIMB INTO AN ICE CREAM MACHINE.”
Hyunjin, who was absolutely loving this, gasped dramatically. “Don’t suppress his dreams, Chan!”
Minho slammed the budget report onto the table. “NO. STOP ENCOURAGING HIM.”
Seungmin, the only rational person left, turned to Jeongin and said, in the most exhausted voice possible:
“Innie, this is literally not how ice cream works.”
Jeongin huffed. “Not with that attitude.”
Felix, clearly on his side, raised a hand. “What flavor would you be, though?”
Jeongin didn’t hesitate. “Cookies and cream. A classic.”
The entire room started yelling.

Chapter Text

The White House had seen a lot of disasters under President Yang Jeongin.
The dinosaur incident.
The slime tournament.
The failed attempt to sneak Stray Kids in using a horse costume.
But nothing—NOTHING— had prepared the staff for this.
Because the President was currently trying to climb into a custom-built industrial ice cream machine.

"Mr. President, PLEASE GET OUT OF THERE."

The room was chaos.
Secret Service agents were panicking. Minho was physically trying to drag Jeongin out. Chan was having a full-blown breakdown.
And Hyunjin? Hyunjin was filming everything.

30 Minutes Earlier.
Jeongin, grinning ear to ear, stood before the biggest ice cream machine in existence.
It took up half the kitchen. Engineers had been working on it for weeks.
Felix, inspecting the controls, whistled. “Wow. You actually got them to build this?”
Jeongin shrugged. “I’m the President. I can do whatever I want.”
Seungmin, crossing his arms, glared. “I don’t think that’s how democracy works.”
Jeongin shrugged. “Details.”

15 Minutes Ago.
Jeongin stood on a stool, looking at the churning vat of freezing, creamy goodness.
“…Do you think if I go in headfirst, I’ll turn into ice cream faster?”
Minho, already exhausted, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you hear yourself?”
Hyunjin clapped his hands. “We should dunk him like a fondue fountain.”
Seungmin smacked the back of his head.

Present.
Jeongin had both legs inside before Chan fully snapped.
“THAT’S IT—WE’RE PULLING HIM OUT.”
Minho grabbed one arm. Seungmin grabbed the other. Felix was trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.
“Sir, you are NOT meant to be ice cream!” an agent desperately shouted.
Jeongin, fighting for his life, kicked his feet. “I WAS BORN FOR THIS!”
Minho yanked him backward. “NO, YOU WEREN’T!”

10 Minutes Later.
After a full-on struggle, the staff finally pried Jeongin out.
Jeongin, pouting, covered in half-frozen vanilla mix, crossed his arms. “This is discrimination.”
Chan groaned. “Against WHO?”
Jeongin huffed. “People who wanna be ice cream.”
Silence.
Hyunjin, wiping away fake tears, whispered, “His bravery… his commitment to the cause…”
Seungmin smacked him again.

The Aftermath.
CNN reported: “WHITE HOUSE IN CRISIS AS PRESIDENT ATTEMPTS TO BECOME ICE CREAM.”
The Vice President submitted her fifth resignation attempt (denied, as usual).
The White House janitors were once again furious.
And the worst part?
The public LOVED IT.
#LetHimBeIceCream trended worldwide.
Protestors gathered outside the White House demanding justice.
An ice cream company released a limited edition ‘President I.N’ flavor.
Jeongin, holding up a pint of his own flavor, smirked.
“See?” He took a victorious bite. “I am ice cream.”
Minho threw a spoon at his head.

Chapter Text

6:00 AM – White House Staff Arrival
The morning started like any other.
Secret Service agents walked their usual patrols. Staff filed in, half-awake and clutching coffee. The sun rose peacefully over Washington, D.C.
And then, someone saw it.
“…Why is there a rollercoaster?”
Silence.
A junior aide slowly turned their head. “I—I’m sorry, what?”
“The—THE ROLLERCOASTER.”
The aide followed their colleague’s shaking finger out the window and—
Oh.
There was, in fact, a full-sized, brightly colored, fully operational rollercoaster running through the White House.

6:05 AM – The Crisis Meeting
The emergency meeting room was chaos.
Advisors shouted over each other. The Secretary of Transportation was hyperventilating. The Vice President, who had just entered the room, took one look outside and left.

Seungmin slammed his hands on the table. “HOW DID THIS HAPPEN OVERNIGHT?”
Felix, eating popcorn, grinned. “I dunno, but it looks sick.”
Minho, rubbing his temples, muttered, “I don’t get paid enough for this.” And then the door swung open. In strolled President Yang Jeongin, wearing sunglasses and holding a churro.

"Morning, losers. Who wants to ride the Presidential Coaster?"

Dead silence.
Chan, already on the brink of a breakdown, took a deep breath. “Sir. Please. Explain. WHY. There is a rollercoaster. In. The White House.”
Jeongin took a bite of his churro. “Because I wanted one.”
Chan looked ready to throw himself out the window.
Minho slapped down a stack of legal documents. “Do you know how many building codes you violated? How much of the budget you just—just THREW AWAY?”
Jeongin shrugged. “I dunno. A lot?” Seungmin glared. “A lot.” Felix, still admiring the coaster, nudged Hyunjin. “How do you think he even got this built?”
Hyunjin, filming the chaos for historical purposes, grinned. “He’s the President. He just asked, and people made it happen.”

A trembling intern raised a hand. “Sir… where exactly does the coaster go?”
Jeongin brightened. “OH! GREAT QUESTION.” He pulled out a fully laminated map. “The ride launches from the South Lawn, takes a sharp turn through the Oval Office, does a loop around the Press Briefing Room, and ends with a big drop off the roof.”
Every face in the room wore a look of pure horror.
Seungmin physically dropped into a chair. The Secretary of Defense muttered, “I need to retire.”
Meanwhile, Chan’s eye twitched. “The Oval Office? You—YOU BUILT A ROLLERCOASTER THROUGH THE OVAL OFFICE?!”
Jeongin nodded, completely unbothered. “Yeah, it does a corkscrew right over my desk.”
Minho grabbed Chan before he could lunge.

6:30 AM – The Test Ride
Somehow, despite the overwhelming objections, Jeongin convinced (read: forced) his cabinet onto the rollercoaster’s first official ride.
The train shot out of the station at full speed.
Seungmin immediately started screaming.
Minho cursed in three languages.
Chan was too busy holding on for dear life.
Meanwhile, Jeongin and Hyunjin had their hands up, laughing.
Felix threw double peace signs.
And somewhere along the way, the Speaker of the House threw up.

6:45 AM – The Aftermath
When the ride finally screeched to a stop, the cabinet stumbled off like they had survived a natural disaster.
The Vice President, who had refused to board, looked at their dazed colleagues and sighed.
“We’re all gonna die under this administration, aren’t we?”
Jeongin, happily taking another bite of his churro, gave a thumbs-up.
“Worth it.”

Chapter Text

5:45 AM – National Security Briefing Prep The Situation Room was calm. Silent. Professional. Analysts reviewed reports. Generals checked intelligence. Aides prepared documents for the most important meeting of the day. And then. Someone heard a ‘baa.’ Silence. Another ‘baa.’

A junior staffer, frowning, looked up from his laptop. “Did… did anyone else hear that?” The Secretary of State slowly lowered her coffee. “Hear what?” ‘BAAAAA.’ Now everyone looked up. There was a long pause. “…That was a goat.”

5:50 AM – Full-Blown Goat Crisis An intern sprinted into the room, panting. “SIR—THE PRESIDENT—THE ANIMALS—” And then a duck waddled in. Pure, deafening silence. The duck quacked. Then a chicken strutted in. A baby goat trotted after it. A llama appeared in the hallway. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff stood up so fast his chair fell over. “WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?”

5:55 AM – The Arrival of the Madman And then. President Yang Jeongin strolled in, grinning ear to ear. Wearing overalls. Holding a tiny piglet. Behind him, Hyunjin walked a miniature pony on a leash while Felix carried a basket of baby bunnies. Minho followed, facepalming aggressively. The entire cabinet just stared. Jeongin beamed. “GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE! WELCOME TO THE WHITE HOUSE PETTING ZOO!”

6:00 AM – The Absolute Collapse of Government The Secretary of Defense physically left the room. Chan, who had just arrived, took one look at the chaos and made direct eye contact with a goat. The goat screamed. Chan screamed back. Seungmin, who had been quietly suffering in the corner, stood up, took off his badge, and said, “I quit.” Jeongin gasped. “YOU CAN’T QUIT! YOU HAVEN’T EVEN MET THE BABY COW YET!”

6:10 AM – Damage Control (Or Lack Thereof) Minho, who had officially given up, glared at Jeongin. “WHY. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?” Jeongin, feeding a goat out of his palm, shrugged. “I thought the Situation Room was too stressful. Now it’s more chill.” Seungmin pointed at a chicken sitting on top of a nuclear briefing folder. “THAT CHICKEN IS ON TOP OF CLASSIFIED DOCUMENTS.” Felix, petting a rabbit, smiled. “Yeah, but look how cute it is.” Hyunjin, filming everything, grinned. “History will thank him for this.” Chan, still shaken from his goat encounter, groaned. “This is literally a national security nightmare.” Jeongin huffed. “You guys are acting like I put a tiger in here or something.” A muffled roar came from somewhere outside. The entire room froze. Minho slowly turned to look at Jeongin. “…Jeongin. Tell me there is NOT a tiger in the White House.” Jeongin’s smile was way too innocent. “I won’t tell you that.” Seungmin threw a stapler.

6:30 AM – Aftermath By some miracle, security managed to relocate the petting zoo to the South Lawn. The staff was traumatized. The Secret Service debated a mass resignation. The public, once again, loved it. #WhiteHousePettingZoo trended worldwide. A local farm gifted Jeongin a goat named “Commander Baaaiden.” And worst of all? Congress was now legally required to debate adding an “official White House petting zoo” to the annual budget. Jeongin, watching the news, eating an ice cream cone, smirked. “Another resounding victory for Yang Jeongin.” Minho threw a pillow at his head.

Chapter Text

10:00 AM – White House Press Briefing
The White House Press Secretary was mid-sentence when a reporter raised a hand.
"Can you comment on the reports that President Yang is attempting to annex a Chuck E. Cheese?"
The room fell silent.
The Press Secretary blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”
The reporter held up their phone.
BREAKING NEWS: "PRESIDENT YANG JEONGIN DECLARES CHUCK E. CHEESE A NATIONAL TREASURE, ATTEMPTS TO ANNEX IT."
The Press Secretary dropped her papers.

9:30 AM – One Hour Earlier
In the Oval Office, chaos was unfolding.
Minho, arms crossed, scowled. “I just got a call from the Secretary of State. Why is there a formal request to annex Chuck E. Cheese?”
Jeongin, reclining in his chair, twirled a token between his fingers. “Because I said so.”
Seungmin, voice strained, asked, “Innie, do you… do you understand how ANNEXATION WORKS?”
Jeongin waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, international law, whatever.”
Hyunjin, reading the proposal, gasped. “Bro. You’re calling it the ‘Great Pizza Liberation Initiative.’”
Felix nodded, impressed. “That’s kinda fire.”
Chan, holding his third coffee of the morning, sighed. “Jeongin. You cannot just declare a Chuck E. Cheese part of the United States.”
Jeongin grinned. “Watch me.”

9:45 AM – The Secret Service’s Worst Day Yet
Security had rushed to a Chuck E. Cheese in downtown D.C.
Because Jeongin—fully suited, presidential seal on his jacket—had stormed into the building with a literal entourage.
A child pointed at him. "Mommy, is that the President?"
Jeongin saluted.
Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jeongin. Please. Let’s leave.”
Jeongin ignored him and stepped onto the prize counter.
With the entire restaurant staring, he cleared his throat and declared:
"From this day forth, I, President Yang Jeongin, claim this Chuck E. Cheese as part of the United States Government!"
Gasps. A child cheered. An employee dropped a pizza.
A manager ran over, panicked. “Sir—you—you can’t just take over the restaurant—”
Jeongin turned to him, solemn. “My people deserve unlimited skee-ball.”
Hyunjin whispered, “This is the greatest moment of my life.”

10:00 AM – The Aftermath
Back at the White House, Seungmin was holding his head in his hands.
Minho was pacing.
Chan was on the phone with Congress, trying to stop the inevitable hearing.
Meanwhile, Jeongin was back at his desk, looking smug.
Felix scrolled through Twitter. “Sir, #LiberateChuckECheese is trending.”
Jeongin fist-pumped.
A staffer ran in, breathless. "Sir—we just got word—Chuck E. Cheese corporate is sending legal action."
Jeongin leaned back. "So they want to challenge me."
Minho banged his head on the desk. “You are the President of the United States, not a warlord. STAND DOWN.”
Jeongin, whispering, “Never.”

10:30 AM – Congress Gets Involved
The Speaker of the House was yelling.
The Senate was in an uproar.
The Secretary of State had to explain to world leaders why the President was trying to seize a children’s arcade.
Meanwhile, outside the White House, protesters held signs that said:
"LET INNIE HAVE HIS FUN!"
"FREE THE GAMES!"
"WE SUPPORT CHUCK E. CHEESE NATIONALIZATION!"
Somehow, the crisis had escalated into a national debate.

11:00 AM – The Final Decision
After several emergency meetings, Jeongin was forced to hold a press conference.
He stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat, and—
“I regret to inform you all that, despite my best efforts, I will not be annexing Chuck E. Cheese.”
The crowd booed.
Felix wiped a tear. “A true tragedy.”
Hyunjin, dramatically, whispered, “They weren’t ready for his vision.”
A child in the audience sobbed, “But what about the skee-ball?”
Jeongin nodded solemnly.
“We will continue to fight for unlimited skee-ball. That, I promise you.”
The crowd cheered.
Minho stared into the camera, completely dead inside.
Epilogue: 3 Months Later
Congress, exhausted and just wanting peace, approved legislation giving Jeongin an official Chuck E. Cheese sponsorship.
The company renamed their VIP package "The Presidential Pass."
A custom arcade machine was installed in the White House, labeled:
"Dedicated to President Yang Jeongin – Champion of the People."
Jeongin, standing proudly in front of it, turned to his staff.
“Another victory.”
Seungmin threw a stress ball at him.

Chapter Text

8:00 AM – The Meeting That Changed Everything
The White House staff was relieved.
It had been two whole weeks since Jeongin's last unhinged idea. No dinosaurs. No petting zoos. No Chuck E. Cheese annexations.
Maybe, just maybe, things were calming down.
Then the doors burst open.
Jeongin strode in confidently, dropped a massive blueprint onto the table, and said:
"Boys. We’re turning the Washington Monument into the world’s biggest slide."

8:01 AM – The Entire Room Descends Into Panic
Minho knocked over his coffee.
Chan’s soul physically left his body.
Seungmin whispered, “I cannot do this again.”
A junior aide choked on his bagel. “S-Sir, did you say—a slide?”
Jeongin grinned. “A MEGA SLIDE.”
Felix leaned forward, fascinated. “How would it work?”
Jeongin flipped the blueprint around.
Hyunjin gasped. “You want to wrap a spiral slide around the ENTIRE MONUMENT?”
Jeongin nodded. “I’m talking a 450-foot-long, high-speed thrill ride. Straight from the top, down to the National Mall.”
Silence.
Seungmin, staring at the ceiling, muttered, “Why is my life like this.”

8:15 AM – The Arguments Begin
Chan rubbed his temples. “Jeongin. The Washington Monument is a national landmark. We can’t just—just—turn it into a slide!”
Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
Minho gestured wildly. “Because it’s literally one of the most important monuments in U.S. history?!”
Jeongin waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, but imagine how fun it would be.”
Felix, nodding, whispered, “I mean… he’s not wrong.”
Chan slammed a folder on the table. “THAT’S NOT THE POINT.”

8:30 AM – The National Park Service Gets Involved
By now, news had leaked.
The National Park Service director called in, SCREAMING.
“THIS IS A SACRED MONUMENT—”
Jeongin cut him off. “And I’m making it better.”
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT—"
"Yes, I can. I'm the President."
A dial tone. The director had hung up.

9:00 AM – The Pentagon Weighs In
The Secretary of Defense stormed in. “Mr. President, we have international concerns—”
Jeongin held up a hand. “Quick question. Would you ride the slide?”
“…What?”
“The slide. Would you ride it?”
The Secretary hesitated. “I mean… yeah, probably.”
Jeongin smirked.
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
The Secretary of Defense physically left the building.

10:00 AM – Congress Declares War (on Jeongin)
Congress held an emergency session.
The Speaker of the House shouted, “We CANNOT allow the President to turn a national monument into a thrill ride!”
Meanwhile, outside, the public was divided.
Some were outraged. Others chanted, “LET HIM SLIDE!”
Twitter was on fire.
Petitions flooded the government website.
Even worse? Tourists were already showing up, expecting the slide to be real.
Jeongin watched the chaos unfold from the White House balcony, sipping a juice box.
“They’ll come around.”

12:00 PM – The Final Decision
Under massive pressure, the Supreme Court had to get involved.
After three hours of intense debate, they delivered their verdict:
“The Washington Monument shall remain slide-free.”
A tragic day.
Jeongin refused to speak to the press.
Felix dramatically wiped away a tear. “They weren’t ready for your vision, bro.”
Hyunjin whispered, “Too ahead of our time.”
Seungmin, completely done, muttered, “This wasn’t a vision. It was a CRIME.”
Chan just lay face-down on the desk.

Epilogue: 3 Months Later
Congress thought it was over.
They thought they had won.
Until one day… Jeongin proudly unveiled the Presidential Super Slide™—a replica Washington Monument slide—installed on the White House lawn.
100 feet tall. Open to the public.
Felix and Hyunjin were the first ones down.
Minho stood there, dead inside. “I hate this job.”
Seungmin whispered, “We live in hell.”
Meanwhile, Jeongin stood at the top, arms wide, wind in his hair.
“This is my greatest achievement.”
Chan threw himself down the slide just to get away.

Chapter Text

7:00 AM – A Meeting Nobody Was Ready For
The White House staff had barely sat down for their morning briefing when Jeongin slammed a folder onto the table.
“Alright. We’re getting rid of Air Force One.”
Silence.
Minho, halfway through his coffee, froze. “I beg your pardon?”
Jeongin grinned. “We’re replacing it with a hot air balloon.”
Seungmin, horrified, choked on his water.
Felix gasped in delight.
Hyunjin nodded. “Bro, that’s actually so poetic.”
Chan, on his third breakdown of the month, just said, “No.”

7:05 AM – The Chaos Begins
Minho, already exhausted, asked, “WHY?!”
Jeongin sat back. “Think about it. Way more scenic. No noisy engines, just the gentle whoosh of the flame. Floating peacefully above the country, waving at the people below—pure vibes.”
Seungmin, clutching his temples, whispered, “Sir, Air Force One has advanced security, defense systems, high-speed travel capabilities—”
Jeongin waved him off. “Boring.”
Minho, voice rising, “Do you know how long it would take to get anywhere in a hot air balloon?!”
Jeongin nodded. “Yeah. That’s the best part! Imagine the suspense.”
Chan, staring at him in pure despair, asked, “Suspense for what?”
Jeongin leaned forward, voice dramatic.
“Will the President make it to the summit on time? Will the winds betray him? Nobody knows. That’s entertainment, baby.”

7:30 AM – The Pentagon Responds
The Secretary of Defense arrived within minutes.
“Sir, you cannot replace Air Force One with a balloon.”
Jeongin, reclining in his chair, asked, “What if it had a really big presidential seal on it?”
“THAT’S NOT THE ISSUE.”
“The basket could have a snack bar.”
“MR. PRESIDENT.”
Jeongin sighed, clearly disappointed by everyone’s lack of vision.
“Fine,” he said. “Then we’ll make it bigger.”
The entire room froze.
Chan, already fearing for his sanity, muttered, “Oh God, he’s doubling down.”
Jeongin slammed a new blueprint onto the table.
“Introducing… the Presidential Zeppelin.”

7:45 AM – The Press Gets Wind of It
Somehow, the news leaked.
Headlines flooded social media:
"PRESIDENT YANG JEONGIN WANTS TO REPLACE AIR FORCE ONE WITH A GIANT BALLOON."
"BIDEN RESPONDS: ‘WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING?’”
"CONGRESS HOLDS EMERGENCY MEETING."
Outside, protestors held signs that said:
"KEEP AIR FORCE ONE!"
"LET HIM FLOAT!"
"GIVE THE PRESIDENT HIS BALLOON!"
Meanwhile, Jeongin watched from his office, unbothered, sipping a Capri Sun.

8:30 AM – The Test Flight Disaster
Determined to prove his idea was brilliant, Jeongin ordered a test flight.
Within an hour, the Secret Service had prepared a massive red, white, and blue hot air balloon with the words "AIR FORCE FUN" painted on the side.
The staff watched in horror as Jeongin climbed inside.
Chan begged. “Jeongin, please—"
Too late. The balloon lifted off.
Hyunjin, waving, shouted, “FLY HIGH, KING!”
Minho, dead inside, turned to Seungmin. “We are going to lose our actual president to the wind.”

8:45 AM – Immediate Regret
At first, Jeongin was thrilled.
He posed for photos, waved to civilians, and yelled, "I AM ONE WITH THE SKY!"
Then.
The wind changed.
The balloon veered sharply toward a military base.
A fighter jet scrambled.
Secret Service screamed into their radios.
Jeongin, gripping the basket, yelled down at his staff. “Okay! So maybe this was a bad idea—”

9:15 AM – Emergency Landing
The Pentagon forced the balloon to land in an empty field.
Chan, on the phone with world leaders, tried to explain why the President of the United States had to be rescued from the sky.
Minho, furious, greeted Jeongin as he stumbled out. “SO. DO YOU GET IT NOW?”
Jeongin, dusting himself off, nodded.
“…Yeah.”
Relieved sighs all around.
Until—
"We should go bigger."

Epilogue: 3 Months Later
Congress banned him from ever attempting this again.
But Jeongin found a loophole.
At the next international summit, he arrived in a golden hot air balloon.
As he floated down to the confused world leaders below, he yelled:
"AIR FORCE FUN LIVES ON!"
Chan threw his clipboard.