Eh, just read it.
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To say her temper was explosive was both an understatement and, paradoxically, an overstatement as well. Her fury was a terrible thing, there was no denying, but it was an almost subtle thing. Imperceptible, really, if you weren't looking for the signs. A slight narrowing of the already perpetually-furrowed eyes, the ever-present frown on her face deepening oh so minutely, perhaps a clenching of her fists. These were the most noticeable of the few signs of her anger, the only way she expressed that she was losing her cool. If you didn't notice these signs, didn't see the cracks forming in her composure, then, when it broke, something else would along with it. You, most likely.
It was truly fascinating the way young Gaz Membrane, standing at a surprisingly imposing four feet and some odd inches, would go through her cycle of rage. Ignore the offender, then glare, grit her teeth, maybe growl a little, then, all at once, go straight back to perfect calm. And then she extracted vengeance. This part of her ritual fascinated Zim the most of all. It was so unlike Irken anger and, he observed, most Earth anger as well. There was no yelling, no screaming, except maybe to warn the victim in the case of the former and the victim's reaction for the latter, and there was even less gloating.
The Gaz did not even seem to enjoy taking her revenge all that much! It was closer to a physical thing, something tangible, than to a sense of retribution. Almost like she were collecting payment for their transgressions. Someone pushed her too far, she rained doom on their head, and that was that. Like routine repairs made to the Voot Cruiser, the hate was just a task to be completed. She didn't hold onto the incidents that incited her anger any longer than it took get revenge; She didn't even hold a grudge against her enemy! An Irken certainly would have! An Irken would not rest until they had gotten back at their offenders, permanently.
An Irken would rant and rave, laying promise upon promise of death onto their enemy. They would take their sweet time as they tortured those who would dare go against the supreme race! An Irken would let all know that they had been wronged and that they would have vengeance! They would plan every meticulous detail of their revenge and make certain everything went exactly as they wanted. And they would love every second of their enemies pain. It was clearly the superior way.
But, then…….
Why did this girl's anger interest him so? Zim had to admit, there was a strange kind of beauty in the sudden, brutal, unplanned strikes. He watched as the youngest Membrane vented her ire on a boy a good foot taller than her, a boy who, by all means, should have been able to defend himself. After all, Dib had managed to, ah, not defeat, just….. Delay! Yes, he'd managed time and time again to delay Zim's conquest of the filthy mud-ball planet Earth. So, why couldn't he stop these attacks, dodge these blows as deftly as he did Zim's?
Watching the two fight was almost reminiscent of the early days when he and Dib had fought, the big-headed boy always an inch from impalement, or disintegration, or some other such fate. What was so different now that allowed him to dodge every punch, every jab, every energy discharge? Begrudgingly, Zim acknowledged that Dib had grown in skill since their first meeting, but no so much as to be on par with an Irken! And, now, the dirt-monkey wasn't showing anywhere near the fighting prowess he did when fighting Zim. For having a head so large, one would think he'd stop trying to find a pattern to his familial sister-thing's attacks and just defend…….
Oh.
Was the Dib-stink not defending against random strikes because he could not defend against random strikes? He'd always assumed that humans had to be better fighters than that. Zim had not even considered that something so simple as randomly attacking without thought would be effective. Did….. Did this weakness extend to his defense against Zim's plans? Could a simple, subtle, brutal plan be as devastating as the strikes of the Gaz-monster? Oh, Irk, and all this time Zim had been trying to outthink the smeet! He'd only been outthinking himself! And no wonder, with how incredibly smart he was. No, this called for a new plan. Something different. This time, he would do the opposite of over thinking! He'd underthink! Was that a word? Yes, of course, if Zim said it then it must be. Perfect!
Zim cackled madly for a moment as he began to construct his new plan in his mind. Then, reminding himself of his new 'Simple, subtle, brutal' mentality, checked his laughter and reigned it in to quiet chuckling.
Oh, revenge would be sweet.
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There, a super short oneshot. Might be multi-chappa oneday, but I gots other things ta worry about rigt now. I just wanted the darned plot-bunny out of my head.