On Irk, there is a tradition. A made-up tradition; but a tradition none the less. It is cold and brutal, just like the Irkens who are willing to put themselves through such deadly torment. To them, it is nothing. The Irkens who suffer through this fate have everything to gain, and only one thing to lose.
They lose it.
It's not always bloody, and sometimes, that only serves to make it worse. Sometimes, the Irkens cry out and beg for mercy, pity, death, any fate they can get instead of this. They don't know that death awaits them even if they succeed in this gruesome new mission.
There is no open audience. There have been no survivors. When the cage doors click- when the lights flick on- when they see the haunting face of their opponent- they lose it.
Three claws drummed over a slick metal control panel, the other hand holding up a certain lethargic red-eyed leader's head. "Yes, Zim, you're so interesting. Please continue." His tone begged him to stop.
"Thank you, My Tallest! I will!" Zim replied happily, pleased that they were so deeply intrigued by his report. They could barely hold themselves up with their astonishments! "I have made a BRILLIANT new discovery of this planet! It seems that these HUMANS have GIANT production lines solely for the purpose of making snacks! Not as impressive as our FoodCou-" Zim froze in place, mouth still parted in a small 'o' from the unfinished word. He didn't like speaking of that place, and he definitely didn't like reminding his Tallests of the job he was actually supposed to be performing at this very moment.
As if they could forget.
In the background the familiar face of an adolescent Dib popped into view. That weird… human… thing was making so many appearances lately - and if he wasn't there, Zim was very likely to be talking about him- that the Tallests barely even looked at him but to acknowledge the fact that he was, indeed, there. And mocking Zim.
"Not as impressive as… our IRKEN places that is. Our places like… uh… like NOT FoodCourtia! Who mentioned that place? Not that the Tallests made a poor decision in its creation! I mean-!" Zim was cut off this time by long arms wrapping around his shoulders as the taller boy bent nearly double to rest his chin on the sitting Irken's head.
"Making a fool of yourself as usual, Zim?" This odd Dib thing smirked down at Zim and, as plain as day, Zim's eyes lit up in happiness at his appearance, the beginning of a large smile flashing onto his lips. Until he remembered exactly what he was doing down here in the first place.
"DIB!" Zim screeched. "GET OFF ME!" He beat the laughing human away with his fists and stared back at the camera, alarmed and obviously flustered. "I apologize, my Tallests! Please pay this pig-slime NO attention!"
"Isn't that the large-headed creature again?" It was Purple's turn to speak up. "I thought you had plans to kill it. Five years ago."
Zim's face darkened in obvious embarrassment; both at his failures of ridding himself of the human when he had the intentions to do so and at the new plans he had yet to announce to his ever-attentive leaders. Dib would never willingly betray Earth, but, when Zim finally finished his mission, he had full plans to steal the boy away and bring him back to Irk. Zim had grown horribly fond of the stupid creature and Dib seemed to be feeling the same strange pull. Zim planned to use this, tricking the boy into a false sense of security and then destroying the planet while he wasn't expecting it so that he had no choice but to follow Zim back home! He couldn't say this with Dib standing RIGHT there, though, and as he searched for an explanation that wouldn't excite Dib's curiosity, the idiot human felt the need to fill the silence.
"He can't kill me," he taunted to all three Irkens present, "he likes me." Zim's pinkish eyes widened the second those words were out and he tried to punch Dib in the gut, but the human dodged and Zim ended up flinging himself out of this chair and straight into his unforgiving floor.
"I hate you! And I have told you FIVE times to GET OUT OF MY LAB!"
Tallest Red groaned on screen. He was growing extremely tired of these worthless reports that were often ending in Zim and this Earth human rolling around on the floor like a pair of smeets. Even the reports that were actually useful or interesting- if Zim were a real invader, that is- bored him. He had no idea how Purple could still muster enough concern to even semi-participate in these chats with Zim. "Invader Zim, your report has been recorded and we'll take special note of-…." He forgot what Zim was even reporting about in the first place.
"Of the snack factories?"
"Yes, those. We will take special note of the 'snack factories'. Thank you for the information, it is most helpful to us. How about we call you first next time?"
"That's a great idea, my Tallests! Unless of course Zim finds something that should immediately be repor-"
"Yes, that's great."
"I wasn't done talk-"
"We'll call you first!" The screen went black on both sides.
In the control room, Tallest Red rubbed his aching cranium. "I can't take much more of this. Can't we just banish him again already?"
"We can't banish Zim! He just… QUITS being banished! And then he comes back!"
"What can we DO to him? It's like he just doesn't die! OR banish!"
"There's always…"
"What? Purple, if there is ANYTHING to get rid of him, tell me now!" Red was not above begging at the moment.
"The Tradition. We haven't held one of those in a long time." The air around them went still as if even it was horrified at what Purple had mentioned. Both Irkens, and the crew surrounding them, went even more still with sober thoughts. None of their crew had not been around long enough to know exactly what this was, but there had been whispered rumors of such a thing. And anything said in that dark of a tone of voice could be nothing but terrible.
"The Tradition…" Red smirked. He already liked this idea. In fact, he already couldn't wait. "And I know exactly who we'll use ."