This fanfiction's sort of an exploration of alternate universe fanfictions. In AUs, there's usually one big difference between the canon and the AU. To that, I say, why have one big difference when you can have several smaller differences? I don't own Invader Zim, because if I did I wouldn't have made the decision to put it on Nickelodeon.

Difference #1: Irk is a police state. It shows.

This is the story of a terrible person named Zim, and he almost deserved it. Zim was a little green alien called an Irken who worked for a fast food restaurant on a planet called Foodcourtia, where he manned the cash register at Shloogorgh's. The cashier's job was simple: he sat at the register and pushed buttons. This is what the cashier was supposed to do every day of every month of every year, along with much, much janitorial work, as this was the only way the Control Brains that ruled the Irken empire thought he could be productive, for, as you see, this little shit had gone and fucked everyone's day up.

About a year ago, this little shit, once nothing more than another cadet, had proved himself to be one of the most competent soldiers in the Irken Empire. So vast was his fucking up of the enemy that he was being trained to be an invader, a rank no one below five feet tall had ever taken before. Under normal circumstances, he would be considered a subversion of the height hierarchy, proof that short people were worth so much more than waiting tables and shining shoes.

However, under these abnormal circumstances, this guy not only fucked up the enemy, he fucked up his own people. And it kind of pissed them off.

But because of the Control Brains' interest, they could not kill him. And because of the Control Brains' interest, they hated him all the more. When the Tallest spoke to him, he was scolded for speaking back. When the Tallest touched him, he was reprimanded for soiling his flesh. Hell, if the Tallest pissed in his drink, he'd probably get the shit beaten out of him for letting his unworthy face near the Almighty Tallest's holy piss.

So done was he that he lost all his ability to can, and in doing so, just fucked all of his fellow invaders up.

Productivity, conformity, stability, the original manifesto went. However, the original manifesto, as it had been first written, had been lost for hundreds of years, and was actually buried under a pile of snacks in someone's closet, but that was beside the point. The point is, as most people would, he considered it soul-rending, hating every moment that a customer walked up to him. And Zim was not happy.

If you've read beyond that point, then you're either bored, given up hope on finding better fanfiction, or hoping that somehow, in some way, that little green alien will spontaneously learn to love. This paragraph's here to tell you that that's not going to happen, but hey, what can you do?

One day, something very peculiar happened- something that would forever change Zim. Something he would never quite forget. He was taking his break, having to flop into a chair after a horrible adventure with a toilet monster that he was pretty damn sure was the Shloogorgh mascot, and had turned on the TV to hear this:

"You've just tuned in, you're watching live as the crowd gathers on Conventia to watch the Great Assigning for Operation Impending Doom II!" An announcer boomed as the screen switched to a few invaders munching on nachos from a vat. "Ooh, looks like the crowd is being treated to nachos!"

"Impending Doom II?" Hey, he'd been in the first Impending Doom! He had to be there! …Well, it was kind of his fault that there needed to be a second one, but he didn't like to dwell on that. He leapt up, knocking over a mop bucket, but disregarded the mess. "I'll be late! I've gotta get out of here!"

He ripped off his Shloogorgh's uniform to reveal that he'd been constantly wearing his old invader's uniform, which didn't really matter that much because it wasn't like he'd get any bigger. "Nachos!" He screeched as he bolted out the back door.

The door to the break room creaked open as Zim's boss, a towering, greasy frylord lumbered in. He walked up to the puddle that the mop bucket had spilled and picked up the mop.

"Nobody escapes from Sizz-Lorr," he growled as he glared at the open back door. A great screaming came across the sky in Foodcourtia: "I will find you, Zim! I will search all of space's dark corners to HUNT YOU DOWN! AND I WILL FIND YOU!" Everyone on the planet momentarily shivered in fear, except for the people who actually witnessed the incident, who simply wondered why he didn't just go after the escaped war criminal himself. Hell, why didn't they do anything? It was a mystery that would haunt them all.

"Welcome, brave Irken soldiers," the announcer… announced. "Welcome to Conventia, the convention hall planet. Please proceed to the docking ring and take the complimentary teleporters to the planet's surface!"

Irken ships crowded to Conventia, parking in the artificial ring around the pink planet, then teleporting their pilots to the surface of the planet through warp streams. Swarms of Irkens poured into a convention hall with a giant cartoon-y robot sitting on the entrance chanting "Galactic conquest is here!" as monitors hover above the city displaying the announcer.

"Be sure to visit the gift shop for all kinds of cheap, useless stuff! If you're here for the Great Assigning, please remember where you parked and proceed to the convention hall!"

Irken Security monitored the crowd on hovering pods, x-raying everyone coming in. On the stage at the front of the convention hall was a disk-shaped metal pod. Electric currents charged between the ceiling and the pod, lighting the hall. The Irken invaders stood on a platform curved around the back of the metal pod, some looking surprised, some not. The former were probably the ones that were just scraped out of the academy, the latter being the ones that had lived through the first Great Assigning. The monitors displaying the Conventia Announcer hovered over to the sides of the pod.

"Now, wiggle your antennae in salute, because here they are! Your all-knowing, all-powerful leaders, the almighty Tallest!" He declared as he introduced a completely optional to read paragraph.

A spotlight shone down from the ceiling. The pod opened up, emitting smoke. The Irkens proceeded to wiggle their antennae in salute toward their leaders. The top half of the pod began to rise to the ceiling as small floating spheres emerged from the bottom half of the pod and rose above the audience. The metal spheres emitted lasers in all directions, which probably blinded a couple of people. Two posts lowered from the ceiling pod, which creates a holograph between them, distracting from the hover disk that detached from the bottom of the ceiling pod. It lowered downwards, with the towering, almighty Tallests, conveniently color-coded red and purple- also named Red and Purple for whatever reason- standing on it. The Tallest waved and the disk emitted lasers from the rim. The audience cheered.

Okay, after that hot mess of transcript copying, Purple started shouting and waving at the crowd. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"See, told you they'd love the lasers," Red remarked under his breath.

Purple restarted the argument that they had started earlier backstage, momentarily forgetting that he was speaking at full volume. "Everything is lasers with you! I'm telling you smoke machines are what the people really- ARGH!" He said, cutting himself off as a laser beam hit him in the eye. As he fell over, screaming in pain, the audience cheered some more, because Irkens don't really give a fuck if anyone dies or if they're in pain.

"See?"

The platform landed on the lower half of the pod. Purple got back up and rubbed his eye as Red started up his speech.

"Welcome, mighty Irken soldiers! You are the finest examples of military training the Irken army has to offer! Good for you. Standing behind us, however, are the soldiers we've chosen for roles in one of the most crucial parts of Operation Impending Doom II!"

The hologram behind them went from a blank screen to that of a gargantuan galactic map, marking planets for conquest.

"You in the audience just sit and watch," he chuckled.

"You should have tried harder!" Purple shouted into the crowd.

"These superior ones-"

"-Not quite as superior as us, of course!"

"Pfffft, duh! These less superior than us- but still quite superior- soldiers will each be assigned to enemy planet!"

They turned to address the invaders themselves, rather than the crowd. "There, you will blend in with the hideous native inhabitants…"

"All while gathering crucial information, assessing the planet's weaknesses, making it vul-ner-a-ble to our…" Fuck, Red had forgotten the word. Fuck. "Big… spaceship… gang!" Yep. Nailed it. Smooth.

"The Armada? Now, let the assigning begin!"

The crowd was completely silent. Then some asshole in the back made it more awkward by just yelling "woooo!"

Um. Well, then. "Step forward, Invader Larb," Red said flatly.

Larb hopped up onto the pod, then walked up a little ramp to stand before the Tallests.

"Ah! You seem to have grown since last you stood before us, soldier!"

"You've been assigned to the planet Blorch!" Purple told him as he tapped Blorch on the map, pulling up a picture of Larb being attacked by giant, rabid rats. "Home of the slaughtering rat people!"

"Why would you draw that?" Larb asked as he started tearing up.

"However, because of your increased height, we have decided to give you the planet Vort-" Red said as he tapped the screen again, changing the picture to a picture of Larb relaxing on a huge couch. "Home of the galaxy's most comfortable couch." I don't know where he got that picture! I really don't fucking know! It sounded like they just changed his assignment on a whim, but drawing that takes time! If they planned that ahead of time, did they just tell him that he was supposed to go to the horrible planet of rats for goddamn fun? Tap-dancing Christ, what did I tell you people about Irkens not giving a fuck about anyone else's wellbeing?

"Yes!" He took his assignment sheet from Purple before sliding away joyfully.

"Next, Invader Spleen!"

As Spleen stumbles up, both Tallests emitted an "Ooooooh!" They seemed impressed by his enormous, swollen head that kind of made it hard to walk due to the top-heaviness. Meanwhile, just above Conventia, a trashed Voot flew towards the docking ring as a green munchkin road rages.

"Move it, move it! Invader coming through! Move it! Argh, move it! Get out of the way!"

"And last…" Purple peered into folded, gauntlet-clad hands to look at a smudged note scribbled inside. "Invader… Skbudge!"

A tiny, chubby invader with a stained shirt and broken, consequentially sharp teeth walked up. "Invader Skoodge, reporting for duty!"

"Oh, now that's just sad," Red grumbled.

"Could you get any shorter?"

"You will be assigned to Blorch, home of the slaughtering rat people. Thank you."

A picture of Invader Skoodge being attacked by rat people appears on the screen, further affirming the Tallests' jackassery. Skoodge tears up, appropriately, as one of Irk's most infamous criminals pushed his way to the stage and security tailed behind. Frankly, I'm not sure why nobody noticed in canon. "Get out of the way! Move it, move it! Get out of my way! Move! You're in my way!"

"Thus concludes the Great Assigning!" Zim continued to scream and shove through the crowd. "Help yourselves to some nachos, and we'll see you at the equipping station."

"Yes, gorge yourselves, you moochers!"

"No, no, no! Wait!" The munchkin yelled, waving an arm from the front of the crowd, almost on the stage.

"That voice!" Red exclaimed as Zim crawled onstage.

"It can't be!"

Zim reared his head up to look at them.

"ZIM!"

"HEY, HOLD YOUR FIRE! Calm your antennae, I haven't seen so many guns since that Vortian wedding ambush!"

The entire audience had panicked, pulling their lasers, as every good Irken citizen was armed at all times. Zim walked up to the Tallest as Skoodge slowly backed away from him, going back to his place.

"Sorry I'm late, my Tallest. I couldn't find my invitation. You're lucky I made it at all."

"You weren't invited at all!"

"Weren't you banished to Foodcourtia? Shouldn't you be… frying something?" Purple sighed, he and his comrade looking down on the exile as if they were wondering what the fuck they just stepped in and why it was talking. Oddly enough, they were also the only ones there who didn't draw their guns.

"Oh, I quit when I found out about this." True, true.

"You quit being banished?" Purple said.

"The Assigning is over, Zim!"

"But you can't have an invasion without me! I was in Operation Impending Doom I! Don't you remember?"

"Oh, yes… we remember…"

A year earlier, on planet Irk, explosions blew half of the empire's capital to smithereens. As sirens went off, a Frontline Battle Mech wandered around, shooting haphazardly. In the cockpit, Zim- who the fuck else?- pulled levers while laughing maniacally. Some other operators of the mech were starting to question his methods.

"But sir, we're still on our own planet!"

"Silence! Twist those knobs, twist those knobs! You! Pull some levers! Pull some levers!"

They obeyed disdainfully, knowing that you should never tell defective Irkens that you want to haul ass. Them fuckers can smell fear. The Tallest watched speechlessly from a building as the mech stepped on everything in sight.

In the present day, Zim attempted to justify the flattening of half of his fellow invaders with "I put the fires out!" (The defense did not work, not because it was a flimsy excuse, but because "You made them worse!" "Worse? …Or better?")

Purple tried to discourage him further. "Besides, Zim, no invader has ever been so… very small. You're very small, Zim. You're a… tiny thing."

"But- hey, hey, could you not point those quite so close to my eye?" He yelled, turning to the security drones and their red laser pointers. "Invader's blood marches through my veins! Like giant radioACTIVE RUBBER PANTS!" It was ants, you idiot! You can't hear me, can you? Being the narrator is a shittier job than I expected. "The pants command me! Do not ignore my veins!" Yep, there he goes.

"As a… show of gratitude for your service in the past… eh, here's a sandwich," Red grumbled as he pulled a sandwich out of hell knows where.

"But!"

"Thanks for coming, everybody, good night!"

"No! No, no, wait!"

"Whaaat? You got your sandwich!"

"My Tallests, an opportunity to prove I truly can be an invaaadeeer is all that I ask! Gimme!" He hugged the sandwich of questionable origin.

Red paused, then whispered to Purple, "Hold on, I've got a plan," before turning back to Zim. "We see now that you are truly deserving!"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"You will be sent to a planet so mysterious, no one has even heard of it!"

"And those who have heard of it dare not speak its name!" Purple agreed, fully aware that they were probably sending him to a planet of broken glass, or maybe one of those exploding head planets.

"What's its name?"

"Oh, I dare not speak it!"

"Where is it?" Zim asked, looking skeptical. Which meant that they were doing a pretty terrible job. If you're bad enough of a liar that you don't even fool Zim, you probably deserve a medal for being so shitty.

"Um…" Red muttered, hovering around the hologram, looking for a nasty-looking planet. "Uh… um… right there!" He exclaimed, pointing at a sticky note on the side of the map that had a little circle with a question mark and said "planet?" on it. If it existed, it had to be tiny, revolved around a pretty damn hot sun, and probably wouldn't be habitable unless it had copious amounts of water, which would be deadly to Irkens, anyhow. Besides, it was far enough away from the capital that he couldn't cause any damage.

"Ooooooh! A secret mission!"

"Happy now?"

"Yes."

"Invaders! Report to the equipment hall! Oh, and remember! Lasers."

A laser hit Purple in the eye again, causing him to drop back onto the floor, screaming.

"The universe will be ours for the taking! It's only a matter of time before all the races of the universe serve the Irken Empire!"

"I'll have them serve me curly fries," Purple mumbled as he got back up.

Meanwhile, light-years away, on a tiny, habitable planet that revolved around a pretty damn hot sun and had copious amounts of water, a kid was sitting on his roof, listening to aliens talk of many things, of rats and planets and sandwiches, of invaders and kings.

Dib pulled his headphones off, setting it next to his makeshift satellite. "They're coming!"

He jumped off the roof and slid down a pipe as his younger sister opened the refrigerator inside. "Dib drank the last soda. He will pay!" Dib swung into an open window, where he fell into the sink.

"They're coming!" He jumped out of the sink and ran to his father, Professor Membrane. Where was his mother during all this? I could probably tell you right now, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. "Dad! They're coming! I heard them! I actually heard them! I was up on the roof, and I heard this transmission that was coming through!"

"Shhshhshh! Not now, son! I'm makiiing…" Sparks of electricity flew from whatever the fuck he was doing. "TOAST!" He screeched, lifting up a piece of toast like it was goddamn Simba from the Lion King. He then realized that he somehow burned the toast, and proceeded to throw it out the window. Maybe the Lion King was not the best analogy. Is there a musical about abortions? If there isn't, I'm writing one myself. Perhaps name it "Bye-Bye Baby."

Dib ran over to his sister, who was drinking juice, since Dib drank the last soda. "Gaz! They're coming! They really are!"

Gaz sighed, wondering if her brother had forgotten his medication. "Who's coming, Dib?"

"I don't know…" Dib said, looking out the window.

Back on Conventia, the invaders had reported to the equipment hall and were huddled around the Tallests. Purple put a compact robot on the ground which unfolded into a little android about two feet tall.

"This is your standard issue information retrieval unit, also known as a SIR. It will assist you in collecting valuable knowledge during your mission."

"It's also a thermos!"

Purple picked up the SIR, looking like he was about to chuck it at somebody. "WHO WANTS THIS ONE?"

Tenn spoke up from the back, screaming "I do!" before Purple did exactly what was described in the previous paragraph. "Ow! Thank you." This is not the only unfortunate event that Tenn will experience involving SIR units in this story, but that's a matter for another episode.

"Everyone else, line up and take a robot."

The invaders lined up in front of a conveyer belt with several compact SIR units hung on it. Larb stepped up, taking a unit, which unfolded and got to its feet.

"SIR! Go warm up my ship's engines."

"Yes master, I obey!" The unit shouted as it and Larb walked off. Zim stepped up, despite the fact that he was supposed to be fourth or fifth in line.

"Finally! A robot slave of my own!" He said as he reached for a SIR.

Red quickly intervened, not wanting to waste any functioning SIR units- those things were expensive. "Um, we have a 'top-secret' model for you, Zim."

Red and Purple turned their backs on him, before Red started rummaging through a trash can for some broken SIR parts. Purple pulled some pocket junk from, once again, hell knows where. Red put together some eyes and a head he found in the trash as Purple dumped the junk in to serve as a brain. Purple made a weird pigeon noise and tossed the shoddy robot in front of Zim. It laid there, as inanimate objects are wont to do.

"It looks kind of… not good-"

"Yes, well, that's what the enemy will think!" Purple insisted as Red nodded in agreement. "Get it?"

"I see! Very good! It even fooled meee! I am honored to be trusted with such advanced technology!"

The Tallests giggled to themselves, before the robot suddenly activated with glowing red eyes and ran up to Zim.

"GIR, reporting for duty!"

"GIR? What does the 'G' stand for?"

GIR's eyes turned blue with realization, or lack thereof. "I don't know!" He stood there, despite now being an animate object. He then hit himself in the head repeatedly.

"Wheee hoo hoo hoo!"

"Um, is it supposed to be… stupid?"

"It's not stupid. It's advaaanced!"

GIR bounced on his head, as the Tallests continued to snicker.

As the invaders left Conventia to begin their undercover operations, Zim's voot cruiser separated from the rest and headed into the coordinates that were plugged in, unknowingly going in the direction of Earth.

"Okay, GIR! Our mission begins now! Let us rain some doom down upon the filthy heads of our doomed enemies!"

"I'm gonna sing the doom song now! Doom doom doom doo doom doom," the robot sang, and so on and so forth as they zoomed off toward their new home.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to write like a serious narrator or like a foulmouthed bitch, so I did both. Alright, that's the end of this chapter, so be sure to review the fic, and follow the fic if you want to see chapters similar to this one. See you.