"I'm Your Next Class President!"
Story Written by Freedom Fighter
And here I go, continuing to roll with new "Phineas and Ferb" stories. I just seem to be full of ideas.
Anyway, this is a direct sequel/follow-up to "Phineas is Mine!," which was released last fall. It also follows the one-shot "My Salty Sweetwater." Reading both beforehand is encouraged, but not required... though expect there to be jokes referring to definitely the former and probably the latter as well.
In reference to the show, this takes place in-between the second and third seasons. But the story itself takes place during the school year after the summer, which for convenience, though not necessarily truth, I consider the first two seasons of the show. Yeah, at this point the show might have run out of the '104 days of summer' and may have moved onto a second summer at some point, but that's a debate I won't be getting into here.
Also for convenience... with a few exceptions, all the kids are in the same grade and are the appropriate matching age(s).
And if Dan, Swampy, and Disney Channel do decide to go ahead with a 'Fireside Girls' spin-off... they can't do a school election story, because I'm claiming it now... wink, wink.
Enough chatter from me, you say? Let's begin then!
Disclaimer: The characters of 'Phineas and Ferb' belong to Disney.
Chapter One - I'm Running for President! (03.28.11)
"I do solemnly swear..."
[Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, reciting the Presidential oath]
Isabella and Gretchen were standing in front of one of the elementary school's numerous billboards. In particular, they were gazing at a poster that was advertising the upcoming class elections. It was not a very original poster... someone had taken the famous Uncle Sam one, modified the American colors to match those of the school - which happened to be orange and yellow - and edited the words to say 'I Want You... To Run For SGA.' SGA being an anagram for Student Government Association, naturally.
Underneath, in smaller print, the poster read 'Interested candidates pick up a nomination packet in Room 108A by Friday.'
"I know that look," Gretchen observed keenly, seeing the smile on Isabella's face. "You're thinking of running?"
"Naturally!" Isabella replied sweetly. "But not just office. THE office that everyone looks up to! CLASS PRESIDENT!"
On that note, Isabella daydreamed about her victory speech...
The students cheered as Isabella stepped up to the podium. An adult placed on her a sash that read, in gold letters, 'Class President.' Isabella was also offered a black top hat, which she put on her head, and a fake Lincoln beard, which she politely passed on. She then stepped up to the mic to address 'her people.'
"Fellow future sixth graders," she began, "thank you for electing me, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, your class president! As president, I promise no homework on Fridays, to extend recess to half an hour, and to push for cultural diversity and healthier options in our lunch menus!"
The young crowd cheered loudly, and they started to chant her name.
"Isabella! Isabella! Isabella!"
She calmly raised her right hand up, and they immediately went quiet so that she could continue.
"But first things first! I am appointing as my 'First Gentleman,' the wonderfully talented... and handsome... Phineas Flynn!"
Phineas walked onto the stage, to the cheer of the crowd.
"So, Miss President," Phineas said as he grabbed Isabella's hands with his own and gazed into her eyes, "what does this 'position' require of me?"
"Well," Isabella rattled off, "you have to be in the same class as me and be seated next to me, you have to promise to sit beside me every day at lunch, AND when we graduate next year, you MUST let me ride you into the sunset to live out the rest of our lives!"
To no one's surprise, Phineas was now a centaur: half boy, half horse.
"Why wait?" Phineas asked with a smile. "I can take you away now."
Isabella nearly melted out of her shoes upon hearing Phineas wanting to skip ahead so quickly. So she hopped up on his back and waved to the crowd as they ran off the stage and up into the air, with Phineas galloping along a road made out of a rainbow. The students again chant Isabella's name as the two of them ride off into the distance...
"Chief! Chief! Chief!"
Isabella shook her head, snapping out of her dream upon hearing Gretchen's voice.
"Sorry," Isabella apologized. "I was out of it again, wasn't I?"
Gretchen smiled. "The centaur dream?"
The two started walking down the hall.
"Say," Isabella wondered aloud, "do you think it's possible for Phineas to become half-boy, half-unicorn?"
"Trust me," Gretchen assured her, "you DON'T want to hear the probability of that!"
After parting ways with her best friend and second-in-command, albeit briefly, Isabella made her way to the SGA office. Luckily, it was empty save for the SGA's teacher sponsor, who was the one handing out applications to interested students.
"Isabella Garcia-Shapiro!" she introduced herself as she stepped up to desk. "Applying to run for 6th Grade President, ma'am!"
"Aren't you cute?" the female teacher swooned. "Here you go, sweetie! You have until the end of school Friday to return this, fully completed."
She handed a packet to Isabella, who took it graciously. All applicants received a packet depending on their current grade level. Isabella quickly opened to the second page, which detailed the requirements for running for President (or Vice President, but the latter did not matter to her and they were pretty much similar anyway).
Isabella read over the requirements aloud.
"Must currently be averaging at least a B across all subjects for the current school year. Check! Must complete the application for nomination in full. Peachy easy! Must obtain signatures from each of the following: a parent or guardian, your teacher, and from 25 different students in your current grade level. Easy, easy, and... not to sound overconfident, but... can get those in my sleep!"
"You sure about that, Izzy?"
Isabella looked up from her nomination packet and all of the color nearly drained from her face when she saw who was standing in the doorway. The young brunette, whom Isabella knew very well, was wearing a short-sleeve yellow shirt with a petunia stitched across the chest, and a pair of black shorts that stopped just above her knees. But her most identifiable feature was the red headband in her hair.
"Isabella! Hi! So... whatcha doin'?"
Isabella growled upon her catch phrase being used by someone other than herself as she addressed the girl. One who was a fellow Fireside Girl, a classmate, a friend, and for one brief day, a romantic rival.
"Again with using my full name?" Adyson giggled as she walked up to and past Isabella and to the teacher's desk. "Really, Isabella. We're budding young girls who've known each other for years. First names only, girlfriend!"
"You know I only say your first AND last name when I know you're up to something! Especially when it's something that I'm doing that you want to do too that involves a competition!"
"Pot calling the kettle black, aren't we?"
Adyson smirked at Isabella before turning to the teacher and asking for...
"One application for sixth grade Class President, please!"
Adyson received her packet, and upon turning around, she got the reaction out of Isabella she expected... one of anger.
"How DARE you run for class president after finding out that I decided I was going to run for class president!"
Adyson mock gasped. "You are running for class president, Izzy? I swear I so, so, so, so, SO wasn't expecting that at all!"
"As your commanding officer, I demand that you give that packet right back and end your intentions to run for office!"
"You command me? Isabella, this isn't Fireside Girls. This is school! Two different places, two different sets of rules, two... well, you get the point."
"Look. In the Fireside Girls, you by far deserve to be troop leader. Sure, the position is voted on. But honestly, none of us have the clout or the natural talent for the position quite like you. Even I'm not a match for you!"
"True," Isabella blushed, "as a Fireside Girl, I do rock. Hard."
"But here at school, it's different! There are so many people that are good at loads of various things! You might be the most charming girl in school... but that can only get you so far!"
Isabella put her hands on her hips, interested to hear what foolish claim would next come out of Adyson's mouth.
"As for me? I'm pretty, more popular, and I could have most of the boys in our class cater to my every whim with just a snap. And, last time I checked, there are a LOT more boys in our class than girls!"
"You think you can beat me just because you dress like a junior high student? Do you know it's girls like you that have parents pushing for the school to require mandatory uniforms next year?"
"Oh, be reasonable. The shorts I wore last Friday were even shorter than these!"
"And ANOTHER thing... what do YOU know about politics, Addy?"
"Me? I know the capitals of all 50 states by heart!"
Isabella frowned. "I don't see what that has to do with..."
"Alabama, Mobile! California, Santa Monica! And Texas... Arlington!"
Adyson smiled, waiting for Isabella to declare her 100 percent correct. But...
"One, with those answers, I question if you even have the B average to be eligible to run! And two, STATE CAPITALS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS!"
"So... so what? If I've learned anything from the President of the United States, it's that the smartest person doesn't always win!"
Isabella smirked upon hearing that little slip-up come out of Adyson's mouth.
"Wait a minute..."
"You know what," Isabella decided, "if you wanna run for Class President against me, then there's nothing I can do to stop you."
Adyson smiled upon hearing Isabella conceding to letting her run.
"Glad you realize that."
"BUT! We need to lay some ground rules!"
"Ugh," Adyson rolled her eyes. "Again with the rules..."
"We run clean campaigns! No funny stuff, no searching for dirty laundry, no negative advertising demeaning each other! Got it?"
"Fair enough. I hate slinging mud anyway... you would not believe how hard those stains are to get out in the wash."
"And we agree to accept the outcome, no matter what it is. Deal?"
The two girls shook hands, making the agreement official. With that settled, Adyson turned and started to head for the door.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to find myself a campaign manager! A boy who will ensure me victory!"
"I'm sure you'll charm someone into helping!" Isabella yelled after her rival. "Just don't charm the pants off him!"
"You would know!" Adyson shouted back from the hallway. "Last day of summer, remember?"
Isabella gasped, then blushed a dark red. First in embarrassment, then in rage as she ran out to chase Adyson down.
"I THOUGHT WE AGREED! NO DIRTY LAUNDRY!"
To be continued...