"Victory!" Zim sneered at his pathetic human rival, if such a creature was even WORTHY of being considered a rival to ZIM. "Cower in your retreat, Dib!"
"Whoo hoo!" GIR cheered, pumping his little fists into the air. Confetti erupted from his mouth, like vomit. It was disgusting.
"Squeak!" Minimoose added, but no one paid attention to the floating droid.
Dib sighed and slapped his head.
"No, Zim. This isn't a retreat!" He explained, for perhaps the fifth time in this endless circle. Zim wasn't really listening to him, and Dib was starting to doubt why he'd come to even give Zim the courtesy of telling him that he was leaving the city. It wasn't like they would miss each other.
Perhaps it had been because of the years they had spent trying to destroy each other. It was a sort of bond, albeit a hateful one.
Zim was under the annoying impression that moving away was a mere retreat, and Dib wasn't happy about letting him think that.
"My family is relocating to Norrisville on my father's business," Dib said, adjusting the frames of his glasses. "I'm not going to be chasing you anymore, but honestly Zim, I don't think I need to. You do a good job of thwarting yourself, even without me. You stink, Zim."
Zim stared at Dib, a confused frown etched sternly in his face.
"Zim does not stink, Dib-beast! IT IS THE DIB WHO DOES WRETCHEDLY STINK!"
"Like a greasy stinky monkey!" GIR chimed in.
"SQUEAK!" Agreed Minimoose.
"I DO NOT STINK." Dib shouted, a defensive pitch rising in his chest. But then he dropped it. He'd never have to see Zim again, so what was the point?
"Whatever. You know... it's been great, Zim." Dib said nostalgically. "We had some great memories, even though you tried to destroy the world, and I tried to dissect you-"
"DISSECTING?" Zim recoiled in suspicion. "You'll never dissect Zim! GNOMES! REMOVE THE DIB THREAT!"
Enormous garden gnomes were geared into action. They circled around Dib, who had become agile over the years and was able to flip away from their range of fire. His legs sprung into a run, and he dashed down the street, away from lasers that bounced off the sidewalk.
Zim had a satisfied sneer.
"See ya, Dib!" He jeered, "Victory! Victory for ZIIIIIIMMMM!"
"Whoo hoo!" GIR cheered, exactly as before. The confetti was no less disgusting the second time.
"Squeak?" Minimoose thoughtfully wondered.
Cruising down the highway, Dib was approaching Norrisville while Gaz put her boots on the dashboard, much to his annoyance.
"You missed the exit," Gaz muttered, eyeing her brother's mistake as it flew past them.
"I know exactly where I'm going, Gaz!" Dib insisted, "I've got dad's GPS set right on our new address, so there's no way I could-"
"Make a U-Turn at next possible stop."
"See?" Gaz slumped, and she watched Dib bite his lip in frustration.
"Alright, alright, so maybe I wasn't paying attention to the GPS..." He mumbled. A lot was on his mind.
"Dad's a better driver than you," Gaz said accusingly.
"Well, dad was too busy doing his negotiation with Mr. McFist to join us," Dib defended, making his turnaround.
Gaz grunted.
Dib had only recently turned 16, old enough to drive. It wasn't difficult to pass his test- after all, he had experience piloting an alien spacecraft, and compared to that a car felt more like a plaything.
He understood how Gaz must feel, and it frustrated him just as much. But Prof. Membrane was an important, busy man. It was far-fetched to hope he'd be there with them.
Finally, they reached the city, and Dib was taking in the surroundings. Norrisville was very clean, he noticed. Maybe it was kept nice for all of the tourists.
"Look," Gaz said, her face to the window, "That gorilla over there is picking up garbage."
Dib peered over to where his sister was watching, and noticed two gorillas in uniform that were cleaning some discarded litter. One of them noticed the pair watching them, and lifted his cap. The other looked over and waved.
"Those aren't just gorillas, they're robots." Dib said, incredulously. "Wow! They have robots cleaning up the city! That's pretty nifty!"
"Pfft. Who cares?" Gaz grumbled.
Dib rolled his eyes.
"Ya know, Gaz, aren't you even the least bit excited when you see something new? Something a little mysterious?"
"No."
Dib chose not to reply. As he had gotten older, he slowly and painfully learned that Gaz wasn't someone who held a conversation well. Instead he chose to drive, stuck behind a bus for most of the trip that had the recognizable McFist logo plastered on the back. He squinted at it. It was an ad for shoes.
"McFist makes shoes?" He wondered aloud.
"They're called McKicks." Gaz replied.
"They look like trendy overpriced shoes. I thought McFist made mass produced electronic junk for the most part, not fashion!"
"Shows what you know," Gaz said spitefully, "Which is that you're stupid."
"Why would I pay attention to shoes, Gaz? There's more important things-"
"You should buy some," Gaz continued, "They might make you less weird."
"I'm just saying, Gaz-"
"Be quiet." Gaz slipped a pair of headphones over her ears. Heavy music blasted from the speakers, and Dib was forced into silence or talking to himself.
A little further and they parted ways from the bus, and Dib found the street of their new house. He pulled into the driveway, in awe of what he saw. It was not just the house, which Dib was used to living in a decent sized house, but more gorilla robots. They were unpacking the trucks and setting up their things!
"Gaz! Look! The gorilla bots are movers! Wow!" Dib hopped out of the car, leaving Gaz in the passenger seat. She looked unimpressed and gave another grunt before swinging her car door open. She loosely followed Dib up the front steps.
Inside, the house looked almost completely set up. Their old furniture had been laid out, appliances were being set up, and picture frames were being straightened by an entirely robotic crew.
Dib approached one.
"Hello, Mr. Robot Monkey, sir?" Dib said carefully. The robot turned around.
"Hello Mr. Membrane, I am not a monkey. My name is Craig. Is there something you needed, sir?"
"Oh, sorry Craig." Dib looked around. "I was just wondering why everyone working is a robot?"
Craig shrugged. "We do what we can to make a decent living wage." He said.
"We do not make a wage at all." Another robot added.
"Oh." Craig shrugged. "I do not know why, then. We are built by McFist Industries. We do what Mr. McFist wants. These were Mr. McFist's instructions."
"McFist? Of course!" Dib smiled to himself. "Then McFist sent you here as a service for my dad!"
"Dib, let the monkey do his job and just shut up." Gaz said, pushing past him. She stalked up to her room, which she seemed to find without any hesitation. Dib opened his mouth to say something, but Craig gave him a warning shake of the head.
"I'm just... I'm gonna go to my room, too." Dib said, resigned. It had been a long trip, he might as well lie down. He ascended the stairs and located his door, which was already plastered with stickers. These robots really took care of everything. Dib went inside.
Everything looked like it had already been set up. Dib was happy to see that even his network of computers had been hooked up and powered on.
He sprawled across his bed, sighed, and tried to imagine what his life would be like.
No more Zim.
That was a relief. Sure, Zim was probably still going to cause trouble at home, but it wasn't worth worrying about anymore. Zim was an incompetent moron. And if anything alarming happened, he did have Swollen Eyeball connections who would contact him or possibly dispatch an agent to take care of it. Aliens were a thing of their specialty.
For once, Dib thought he could have a normal high school experience. Maybe he'd try to be cool for once. It was a new beginning.
"Hey!" A booming voice, with a tone familiar to Dib, caught his attention.
It was his second day in Norrisville. Dib and Gaz attended Norrisville High, and this was where Dib hoped to make a better name for himself.
"Excuse me?" Dib asked, looking up. The boy was incredibly large.
"How comes I've never seens you around before?" The boy pointed accusingly. "I woulda noticed that big head thing o' yours!"
"My head is in proportion to the rest of my body!" Dib relented. "And for your information, I just moved here!"
"Ha! New kid!" He laughed. "Well by Bash Johnson's rules, that means yous is only 9th grade level respect!"
"Who is Bash Johnson?" Dib asked, squinting.
"Who?"
"Bash Johnson? You just mentioned him?"
"Yo, I'm Bash Johnson!" He shouted, "What's a shoob like you doin' talkin' about me?"
"I- never mind." Dib said, backing away. "I'm sorry to have bothered you..."
"Yeah! That shoob said the sorry word for botherin' me! All nice like! What a shoob!" Bash laughed, returning to his circle of friends. Dib growled under his breath. Idiots were everywhere, he surmised.
"I've only gotten through half a day and already it feels like home," He complained to himself. He looked over and noticed Gaz sitting alone, and dumped himself next to her.
"You just made enemies with McFist's son." Gaz stated.
Dib groaned. "Yeah, it figures."
"You're a shoob." She added.
"Really, Gaz?" Dib glanced at her. "I'm your brother! Shouldn't you like, take my side a little more?"
"Pfft. Shoob." Gaz got up and took her tray to a different table. Dib watched her sit next to a girl with a twirl team uniform and another goth kid. She was already using their slang and fitting in? How was Gaz doing it but not him?
It sort of made Dib wish he were still at odds with Zim. At least then he wouldn't be sitting by himself.
Viceroy was pacing around the office, much to McFist's annoyance.
"Viceroy, if you don't stop that, you're going to make me anxious!" He complained, slamming his fists on his desk. His scientist gave him a look.
"You don't understand, Hannibal!" He said, "This is Prof. Membrane! You do realize who this man is, don't you?"
"Yeah, he's a man with an enterprise that could put me out of business!" McFist spittled, continuing to knock on his desk. Viceroy rolled his eyes and huffed.
"Membrane doesn't care about money, dummy! He's only interested in science!" Viceroy explained, rubbing his temples.
McFist grinned.
"You're right, Viceroy!" He said, leaning back. "The man's a scientist, not a businessman! I've got this merge under control!"
Viceroy sighed. "With all due respect, sir-"
A buzz emitted from the mic on McFist's desk.
"Oooh! That must be the scientist!" McFist pressed a button. "Let him in!"
The door slid open, and the pair stood tall as Membrane was let inside. For once the man had made a physical appearance, which was rare. Viceroy looked between the two.
"Hello! Sorry I'm a little late, it's really unlike me." The professor said, striding with his hands behind his back. "I understand there was some final paperwork to go over to finalize our collaboration?"
"Yes, yes, professor, we just needed your hand signature." McFist said, giving the man his camera-worthy smile. "Viceroy, the papers? Get them for the professor please, he's probably not able to stay long!"
Viceroy handed him a stack of papers.
"You'll need to sign by all the x's." He said, also giving him a pen.
"Very well!" Membrane said, looking over the papers. "Hmm. Ownership of patents... Costs of production... Profit cuts... Fair use... Licensing... Mhm, mhm, ahhh..." He scribbled his name a few times, nodding curtly now and then.
"See Viceroy? Business!" McFist whispered.
"I see, sir."
Membrane handed them back the stack, all signed. "All right, that seems to be in order!" He said cheerfully. "When can I expect the first line of my latest invention to be produced?"
"Oh, very soon! Trust me!" McFist said, beaming. "How about we celebrate a little? Viceroy?" He nudged the other man, who laughed nervously.
There was a beep, coming from Membrane. "Sorry, I have to take this." He said, and he switched tabs on his goggles. "Hm, Smitters, what's this about? Mhm. Oh. Pencil me in, I can make it if you cancel my appointment number six hundred and forty seven. I can't even remember what that one was for. Alright."
He coughed. "Sorry about that, Mr. McFist, but I'll have to do a rain check for that celebration. Smitters called from my lab, and I must hurry if I will make it in time. One of my experiments they were trying to transport has gotten a little agitated, you must understand!"
"Oh, of course. It's not a problem, you take care of that experiment." McFist reassured him. Membrane shook his hand.
"It was an honor starting business with you, Mr. McFist! I can't wait to start working together! For science!" Membrane strode out, the door closed smoothly behind him. McFist chuckled.
"We did it, Viceroy!" He said, putting an arm around his shoulder. "You're working with the most brilliant man in history, and you're both gonna make me rich!"
Oh, you're already rich, alright." Viceroy scoffed.
"What's the matter, Viceroy?" McFist asked, nudging him. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Jealous? Viceroy doesn't get jealous." He insisted. "But I can't believe you're only using this man for your own profit!"
"Sounds like the most unsurprising thing about me, Viceroy, you gotta admit."
"Sir, I know, but have you thought about how highly respected he is? How he could find out about your feud with the Ninja? That you're in cahoots with an evil ancient Sorcerer?"
McFist laughed.
"Oh, Viceroy! Like he'd believe the Sorcerer was even real! Besides, he's so busy, I bet the Ninja could come in here with all three of us, naked, and he wouldn't even notice!"
"I could have done without the mental imagery." Viceroy said, making a face.
"Then don't worry about it!" McFist reminded him. "I know what I'm doing, Viceroy! Besides, we could use his brains to make something to catch the Ninja!"
"A clever idea, sir." Viceroy said.
He briefly wondered what appointment number six hundred and forty seven could be. That was a lot of appointments. It was possible that Membrane wouldn't notice anything at all.
