My first Invader Zim fanfiction. I hope that I'm portraying Jhonen Vasquez's character properly. Otherwise, I'm embarrassing myself! lolergram. Anywho. Yeah. I 3 Zim.

Disclaimer: None of the IZ characters belong to me. I have placed myself into the story, so if you steal... me, there will be hell to pay. cackle

This chapter has yet to be revised, so there may be some mistakes in grammar/spelling and sentence structure. Enjoy!

"Two years I've been stuck on this wretched planet, waiting for the Armada…" A pasty skinned, earless figure spat, hunched over a desk as he worked on his newest project. Over his eyes were a pair of thick-glassed goggles, making his magenta orbs seem much larger than usual. He paused, a light frown upon his brow as he examined the object in front of him with great care.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, finally jumping up and holding the advanced weapon between gloved hands. "It's finally ready! Wait until the Tallest see this, they'll be here in time to witness me finish the filthy humans …"

He moved to turn towards a large screen that lit up the dark room, but was met by a small, blue eyed robot. "Oooo, whassat?" It squeaked, reaching a grubby robotic hand towards the weapon that was brandished before it. As he reached, the green boy recoiled, and the two stumbled into each other. The weapon flew through the air and landed on the ground with a smash.

"Gir…" The earless boy growled, jumping up and fixing his alien eyes upon the robot. "Do you have ANY idea how long it took me make that?" He waited for a few moments, but the robot only looked on in confusion. "Most of this month, Gir! I could have been finding other methods of enslaving this vile planet, and now all of that time has been wasted." He stormed off, leaving Gir behind, who continued to look perplexed.

Later that day.

A petite, blonde human picked at the lunch food, her face distorted with disgust as she moved a few pea's around on her tray. Unsatisfied, and still hungry, she threw her fork down and groaned with annoyance. She hated this school. Everything about it made her want to go home. But not her American home. That was as bad as being in the prison named Skool. She wanted to return to England… To her friends, and her family. People here treated her like some sort of alien, more so than another boy in her class. Zim, they called him. At least he had a reason for his strange appearance; he had a skin condition. But she could do nothing to mask her prominent Brummy accent.

Speak of the Devil…

She thought to herself as Zim headed towards her empty table. This was the usual layout of the cafeteria. There were the geeks in the corner, Gaz and Dib on the table beside theirs, cooler people in the middle, and then there were the rejects. Friendless, unwanted and odd, as they were often described. She and Zim were just as despised as each other, so neither cared about sharing a table.

With another sigh, Eve picked up her fork again and balanced a pea on the end of it. For a few minutes, she looked around for someone to practice pea shooting on, but it seemed everyone in the cafeteria was moving around. Except her and Zim. She looked forwards again, barely aware of the green skinned boy that sat in front of her.

As she dazed in and out of daydreams, she absent-mindedly pulled the fork backwards, and released.

The single pea flew threw the air, seemingly in slow motion, until it ricocheted off Zims head.

The pair stared at each other for a few seconds, both trying to get a grip on the situation at hand. That was, until steam began to stream from the spot where the pea had hit him. Zim fell off the bench, writhing in pain upon the ground.

As the pain began to subside, as the smell of burning flesh disappeared from the air, he stood up slowly, pressing a finger to the sore on his brow. His eyes moved to Eve.

"Insolent worm…" He hissed, scooping up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and flicking them at her. Eve - having very quick reflexes - ducked down quickly, and the potato landed with a splat on the back of a rather nasty bully. He turned around slowly, his square head and squinting eyes resting on Zim. With a vicious growl, he began to approach the green skinned boy, until someone screeched, "FOOD FIGHT!"

Almost instantly, vile lunch was being tossed from all sides of the room, except the reject corner. Eve and Zim had stealthy slid beneath their table, waiting for the war around them to end. Both muttered to themselves, huddled at opposite ends as they grumbled to themselves.

"Bloody Americans…"

"Foul Humans…"