Jobi the poop

6 ((Jobi's campaign))

"I WILL DOMINATE THE UNITED STATES, YOU SWINES!!!!!!!!!!"

Jobi was making tons of money from his campaign, and had used some of it to buy his very own home. (He spent the rest on Lamborghinis and Ferraris. But hey, what do you expect from a literal piece of poop?) "Awwwwwwww yissssssss!!!!!" he exclaimed one morning. He poured a bowl of Cheeri-nos and turned on the TV to the news. 

"Good morning, everybody! I'm Ricardo Ricardoson, and I'm reporting to you live from Washington, DC! Today, we're scheduled to have an interview with the one and only Jobi D. Poop! It appears that he isn't here yet..." He frowned.

Jobi spit out his orange juice. "WHAT?!?!?! I HAVE AN INTERVIEW SCHEDUELED FOR TODAY?!?!?!?!? WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME ABOUT THIS?!?! OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!" He leaped off his chair, and yelled at his reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair–uh, wait. Jobi doesn't have hair. He's an emoji. A poop emoji. Jobi, are you even aware of that?

"Yes," he snapped at me, the narrator, "I am aware of that, Rebecca. You don't have to remind me. Now, go back to narrating this amazing piece of literature."

Jobi obviously isn't supposed to break the fourth wall like that, but hey, neither am I. Let's continue. Jobi put a tie around his neck and a pin campaigning his presidential run. He ran outside. "Yo, Ricardo Ricardoson!" he exclaimed, out of breath. Not literally, then he would be dead. "Hey, Ricardo. You should be sorry you're early, idiot." He rolled his eyes. "Alright, then. Let's get this interview over with already."

Ricardo sighed. "I apologize, Jobi, Sir. So, what made you decide to run for President, Jobi? We would all love to know."

He let out a breath. "Wow. What made me decide to run for President? Well, I'm getting a boatload of money from my campaign, and I'll make even more if I win, so that's why I decided to run for President of the United States." He stared at the camera, and smiled at all the viewers watching. "Vote for me, or not, whatever you feel like! Just kidding. Vote for me or I'll begin the end of the universe and every single person you love shall die and feel my burning, painful wrath! I approve this message 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000%!" 

Ricardo moved away from him. "Oh, that's a pleasant message you've just given to our viewers at home! Must've taken you hours to write." He offered the camera an extremely nervous smile that practically screamed pain and 'ohmygoodnessgetmeoutofhereoriwillshoveaguavadownyourthroat'.

Jobi shrugged. "Eh, not really. I actually just wrote that speech inside my head. But pretty good for a piece of poop, I'd say, and hopefully you agree with me, Ricardo." He inched closer to the reporter's ear. "Agree with me, or you shall face fiery hell for all eternity, Ricardo."

Ricardo's eyes widened. "Yes, J-Jobi, I certainly agree with every single word that comes out of your freakishly tiny mouth!" He looked at the camera. "Vote for Jobi...Vote for Jobi...Vote for Jobi..."

Jobi grinned. Mind control! Nice. He looked at the camera and said, "Well, viewers, remember to Vote for Jobi–myself–in the 2016 United States Election! Ricardo seems to think that you should, too, so do it or else." He gave the camera a thumbs-up. "This is Jobi D. Poop, signing off for Ricardo Ricardoson! VOTE FOR MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!"

He ran back inside his mansion, and laughed manically. A few hours, drinks, and episodes of Friends later, he heard a knock on the door. "WHO IS IT????????" he screeched, walking up to the door. He opened it, and his jaw dropped. 

"VIVIAN???? MY EX GIRLFRIEND??????"