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Rumpelstiltskin AU

Mark gulped. In front of him sat a game console, one he hadn't seen before. It was slick, shiny, and quite honestly one of the strangest contraptions he'd ever seen. Standing behind him was the president himself, President Kjellberg. Mark didn't want to turn and face him, but considering that he had just been kidnapped by the most powerful person in America, it would probably be a smart idea. "Um, why am I here?"

The presidents shoulders slumped, age on his face and in his hair. "Do you know the organization known as Game Grumps?" Mark nodded. Everybody knew them. The richest party in the world, these men created legendary game consoles and games. Mark had never been able to afford one, his money earned from being a middle school teacher and singing at local pubs just allowing him get by. "Well, they've created a game console that has an unbeatable game in it. They say that if anyone can beat it, they will help bring our nation out of its massive debt."

"And this has to do with me personally how?" Mark asked, anticipation and curiosity swirling and swamping in his gut.

"From all accounts on everything we could gather, you are the best gamer in the entire country." Even as Mark began to shake his head the president put a hand up, stopping any protest he could form. "I know, its a lot to ask, but we need you to beat this. You have tonight to figure this out. If you can even get the game open, I'll consider not throwing you in jail."

Mark's jaw had dropped, and he was frozen in place. His anger thawed him out quickly. "You can't do this! You've kidnapped me and now you're asking me to do the impossible!? You must be insane!" The presidents face hardened and he turned to leave the room. However, right before he left, he looked back once more.

"I'm sorry Mr.Fischbach, but desperate times call for desperate measures." With that he swiftly closed the door, a sound click echoing behind him. Mark rushed to it, his heart sinking to his stomach to find it was, indeed, locked. He turned, running a hand through his hair and scanning the room. It was completely bare besides the console, a small toolbox, a clock on the wall, and a rug. No windows, nothing to break the door open with. There was no way for him to escape.

"Well isn't this just fantastic!" He yelled sarcastically, his baritone voice echoing through the room just as smoothly as the lock sound had. He walked over to the console, crouching down so that he could take a better look at it. For all accounts, it didn't seem to have any buttons, screws, or openings of any sort. A quick look at the back end and underneath it confirmed this. "What am I supposed to do?"

He leaned back on the balls of his feet, brain whirring with questions and concepts as he reached for the toolbox. Opening it only helped to further his doubts, however, as its contents were filled with pristine objects, yes, but nothing that looked helpful.

This continued on for hours, nothing but him looking hopelessly over the console, poking at it with every tool at his arsenal. He even contemplated throwing the blasted thing at the wall, but right before he did, a clanking noise came from above him. Clunk clunk. He looked up, silver box poised behind his head, and saw something he hadn't before. A vent. Clunk clunk. He set the console down, his curiosity overriding his anger. Suddenly-

Clunk, clunk, ker-SHREIK

The shrill noise was followed by the vent swinging open and a body, male appearing, jumping down, landing mere inches from Mark himself. The man straightened himself, looking a little jarred from the impact. "Oh, hello! Mark, is it?" The man had an accent, Scottish or Irish, and pronounced his name funny, adding extra H sound.

"Y-yeah." Mark looked up into the vent once more before looking back at the man. "How did you break into the white house?"

"Unimportant" he said, waving Mark off as he picked up the console, turning it in his hands. "You're in quite the predicament, aren't ye?"