An Invader Zim parody of 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens

An Invader Christmas Carol

Stave One - The Tallest's Ghosts

The Tallest were dead, to begin with. This was the main cause of the crease in the diminutive Invader's forehead, the reason he walked at a troubled pace down the freezing streets with his head bowed and his ruby eyes half-lidded over the violet contacts. He had only just been informed of this terrible news, via communicator by his dysfunctional robot servant. The Tallest, GIR had declared, were dead as a dingbat.

He found himself pondering, as he trudged through the swamp of snow that had been dumped on the filthy human street, exactly how dead the Tallest were required to be in order for them to be compared to a dingbat. And wondering exactly what a dingbat was. And, indeed, he found himself hoping that the dingbat in question was, in fact, alive and kicking.

But Zim knew that they were dead. Of course they were; they could not have fought so bravely against the Resisty forever, and it seemed that the long, toiling battles had claimed the two most important lives on the field. Zim knew that they had died, and for this he held them in highest esteem. The two most admirable names, he decided, were those of Tallest Red and Tallest Purple. Of course, these thoughts were automatically produced by his PAK, but that didn't stop the Irken from believing them with all of his heart.

And what an Irken Zim was. A cold, hard-hearted, merciless, eccentric, screaming, raving invader, who was as determined as he was incompetent and as unfeeling as he was insane. The thick green blood that ran in his veins held no warmth, and it showed in his glinting eyes and the cruel sneer that twisted on his lips. Distressed though he was at the death of his leaders, he could hardly help his self-satisfied smirk at the shivering humans that he passed. The chill didn't unduly bother Zim. His home planet, Irk was freezing, so he was used to it, and anyway, he didn't have time to be cold with his mission to think about.

He noted, as he made his determined way back to his base, that the people that passed him tried their hardest to ignore him. His dwarfish appearance, combined with his green skin and blatant lack of ears, made anyone who looked at him glance the other way quickly for fear of staring too long. Humans were so caught up with trying to be 'politically correct' that they made simple differences in appearance the most awkward situations Zim had encountered.

It was a dark and gloomy afternoon, and the thin chinks of light that slipped through the curtained windows in the neighbourhood left shining wounds in the eerie fog that had gathered. He could see the mismatched, uneven windows of his base glowing at the end of the street, and yet they seemed so far away. Now that nobody was around, and the fog was closing in, Zim had nothing to sneer at, and was instantly deflated. The Tallest, killed in battle, dead as dingbats. Gone. He lowered his head once more to stare obstinately at the brown, watery sludge that had once been pure, crisp snow. Such a revolting mess, like everything else on this crummy planet.

Something cold smacked into the back of his neck, and he straightened up at once. Zim screeched as the snowball melted to water, and stared around angrily for the guilty party. Out of the fog, clad in a black trench coat, a thick blue scarf with matching gloves and a bobbled hat came Dib. He was laughing at Zim's face, but the smile was wiped from his face as Zim started towards him, lifted him up with a spider leg and stuck a laser gun that he had drawn from thin air under his chin.

"Put… me… down," Dib choked, and Zim narrowed his eyes.

"And why would I want to do that?" he asked in an icy tone, twisting the gun slightly to remind Dib of the situation he was in.

"It's… Christmas…" the pale boy spluttered, turning purple, "Haven't you heard of… peace on Earth? Goodwill to all… men?"

"There shall be no peace on Earth under the watch of Zim!" Zim hissed back, "And you expect me to spare you for some pitiful HYOOMAN holiday?"

And yet, to Dib's eternal surprise, Zim dropped him with a sigh, turned away and trudged towards his base. The human gasped for breath like a landed fish, before leaping to his feet and hurrying after Zim. If opposing troops could sing carols together in no-mans land during the war, Dib figured, he could be civil with Zim. For Christmas, at least.

"Hey! Zim!" he called, as the Irken went through his gate. He turned slowly, his false eyes fixed lazily on Dib's.

"What is it, Dib-Stink?" he asked indifferently, and Dib picked up on the tone of his voice. Something had gone wrong; Zim seemed troubled. There was an awkward silence, during which Dib tried to think of what he wanted to say. Zim turned and continued up the path.

"Merry Christmas," Dib called, and Zim stopped and turned again.

"What?" he asked, in a low voice. Dib reached his gate.

"You… didn't kill me. So, Merry Christmas, I guess. Could we call a temporary truce, just for the holidays?"

Zim laughed; a harsh, humourless sound that grated like nails on a chalkboard.

"You take me for a fool, Earth-boy? You think I'll lay down my guard and my arms so easily? Because of Christmas?" he asked, before spitting bitterly onto the snow and adding a contemptuous, "Bah! Humans!"

Dib's face was flushed and ruddy from the cold and his breath billowed in front of him, adding to the clouds of fog that surrounded them. He gave Zim a look akin to pity, and sighed, sending another smoky rush in front of his face.

"You don't have anything like Christmas on your planet?" he asked, and Zim shook his head curtly. "Nothing at all? But Christmas is the most important time of year, for most humans at least. We don't fight at Christmas time. There's a feeling of… happiness," Dib said, cringing at how corny he sounded, but unable to phrase it any other way.

"HAPPY?" Zim shouted, "You humans and your filthy emotions! You would lay down all your defences for the feeling of HAPPINESS? How have you not been taken over yet?"

"You don't get it," Dib sighed, "We'd put down our defences for one night of peace. Christmas…"

"You can keep your Christmas," Zim spat, "For all the good it'll do you." And, with a final "Bah! Humans!" he turned and stalked into his base, leaving Dib staring at the door momentarily before making his way back home. It was Christmas Eve, and tomorrow his father would be home for three hours in the morning, so he needed to be up early tomorrow. If he overslept and missed him, he would have to wait until next year to spend time with his dad.

Zim had barely slammed his door before there was a cheery knock at it. GIR, dressed in his green doggy suit, ran through from the kitchen and opened it, making an insanely happy exclamation when he saw who it was. Zim glanced up from the couch to see a young girl with a red trailer full of boxes. She had a huge grin on her face, and bent down to pat GIR on the head.

"Aw, you're a cute little puppy," she said, using the dripping, sticky, gooey voice that all humans use when talking to a pet or a baby, "Is your master home?"

Zim walked over to the door and glared at her.

"What?" he grunted and she straightened up, a little put out. However, she recovered quickly and regained her smile.

"Hi! I'm selling cookies to raise money for the homeless. You wouldn't like to buy some, would you? They're five dollars a box."

"Why do you expect me to give you my monies for homeless people? Those dirty, smelly, ugly creatures that lurk in alleyways?" Zim asked, sounding shocked.

"Well… It's Christmas," she replied, and Zim looked as though he were about to pop a vein.

"Christ-MAS? What is it with you humans?!? You expect me to drop my guard and give you monies… Why can't you leave Zim alone?"

And with that, he slammed the door, to a long, drawn out cry from GIR.

"COOOOOOOOOOOOOOKIES!!!"

"NO, GIR! NO COOKIES! NO SNACKS! NO NOTHING!" Zim exploded, and the little robot promptly sat down, falling silent, a look of shock in his large azure eyes. He coughed, once, twice, three times, a strange noise for a robot to make. But he was a strange robot. He continued to hack and wheeze, sounding extremely unwell. Then, noticing Zim's annoyance at the sound, he picked himself up off the floor and scurried away.

It was the intense cold that was causing GIR's sickness; this winter was the coldest that the two had seen since they had landed on this pitiful excuse for a planet, but Zim hadn't gotten around to fixing him yet. And after the news of the Tallest's death, he really wasn't in the mood. Instead, he tried to call the Massive, to see if he could find out any more about the recent demise of the rulers of Irk. GIR hadn't been particularly informative. However, upon activating the communicator, he was met with a computerised message.

This is the main-frame communications computer for the Massive. You have been placed on the Black-List for communications. You may not communicate with the Massive unless specifically contacted.

Zim raised an eyebrow, confused. What could this mean? Why would the Massive block him from calling? And who had called and informed GIR of the Tallest? How long had he been on the Black-List, anyway? He hadn't called the Massive in quite a while, so busy had he been with the mission. In fact, it had been over one Earth month since he last called them. His thoughts were interrupted by enthusiastic singing from below the house.

"Dog bless three merry gentlemen, May nothing you display," came GIR's high-pitched voice, though it grated a little from the cold. Zim gave an angry growl and stormed over to the elevator that was hidden under a table, going down to the lab where the robot sang.

"GIR! Would you please stop singing?" Zim asked with a dim sense of déjà vu.

When GIR didn't stop, he aimed a kick at the robot's leg, which caused him to giggle insanely, before having another coughing fit. Then he stood to attention, and his eyes changed colour. However, to Zim's surprise, he was not in duty mode, with a salute and narrowed eyes. And, indeed, his eyes hadn't turned red. Zim leaned in for a closer look and could scarcely believe what he saw.

In one of GIR's eyes was the face of Tallest Red. In the other was the face of Tallest Purple. A gentle light glowed around them, illuminating their expressionless faces, eyes and antennas quite motionless. They stood out lividly in shockingly bold colours, and yet they didn't look threatening. Zim stared at the robot's eyes wordlessly, unable to voice what he wanted to say. And then they disappeared, and GIR's eyes reverted to cyan. The whole episode had lasted less than two minutes. GIR continued to sing, and seemed quite unaware of what had happened.

The base seemed strangely quiet now; the countless machines working at a gentle hum, and the lighting dimmer than before. Zim glanced around, a feeling of unease deep in the pit of his squeedily-spootch. Whatever had just happened was not normal, even for GIR's standards. However, Irkens never show fear, so Zim gulped deeply and strode back towards the elevator with an overly-confident air, his head held high. The lounge seemed cold, colder than it had been before. He used his spider legs to boost himself onto the couch and glanced around again.

Nobody was under the table. Nobody was hanging from the pipes that made up the ceiling. Nobody was in the kitchen. And then the power went out. Zim wasn't scared of the dark; quite the opposite, but nonetheless the sudden overwhelming blackness of it all was unnerving. All the machines were off. The only sound was GIR singing, but now it echoed eerily around the silent base. Zim barely had time to wonder what had caused the blackout when the bell started ringing.

It was an alarm bell in the corner of the ceiling, old, rusty and disused. Whenever there was cause for alarm, the computer would notify Zim, but in case of emergency the old bell would ring. There was an intruder. Zim leapt up and grabbed a torch. Had Dib cut the power and snuck in? The bell increased its volume and the shrill alarm filled Zim's head, blocking all conscious thought. And then, just as quickly as the images of the Tallest had disappeared, the ringing stopped. However the base wasn't silent. Zim could hear a clinking, a dragging, rattling noise, down in the lower labs. It was an ominous sound that filled him with dread, and he shone the torch wildly around, illuminating the room and casting huge shadows on the walls.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" Zim shouted.

The clanking noise continued, and Zim could hear it in echoing in the elevator shaft, getting louder, getting closer. The table lifted slowly, and an empty platform rose out. Zim shone the torch on it, staring at it in disbelief, as though somebody would appear right in front of his eyes. And then, right in front of his eyes, the Tallest stepped out of thin air. Zim gasped and backed away, and they laughed.

The laughter was as cold and cruel as the air around them, and Zim stared at them, trying to work out what he was seeing. There they stood, towering and spindly, dressed in their armour and hovering as they always did. But this wasn't the stationary hovering of a hover-belt; they bobbed gently up and down like corks. Chains were fastened to their wrist-cuffs and around their anorexic stomachs, rattling and clanking as they moved, and they were completely transparent.

"Surprised to see us, Zim?" asked Red snidely. Zim could only tell it was Red from his voice, for they held no colour.

"B…But you're dead," Zim stuttered.

"Well, would you look at that," Purple said, staring straight through his transparent arm in mock surprise, and they laughed again.

"Holograms," Zim muttered to himself, "Just holograms."

"Oh no, Zim, we're the real deal. Never let it be said that we don't do things in person," Red grinned.

"What do you want from me?" Zim asked boldly.

"Much," they replied as one, with symmetrical creepy smiles.

Their eyes were cold and glazed; the eyes of corpses, but they seemed able to see out of them perfectly. Even if he looked away, Zim could feel their gaze on him, an odd, freezing pressure against his skin. They had their long fingers steepled, and though their robes fluttered as though they were in a breeze, though Zim could feel no draught in the room.

"I still don't believe you're real," Zim said, gathering confidence, "Ghosts are a creation of the humans, to scare each other at sleepovers. P… Prove to me you're not holograms!"

"HOW DARE YOU QUESTION THE TALLEST?" Red bellowed, and as he shouted, his jaw dropped to his chest as though unhinged. Zim yelped and backed away sharply.

"You see, Zim, the bottom line is this," Purple said calmly, as Red pushed his jaw back upwards, his teeth clacking together as he did so. "Every being is required to show a little mercy in life, and if they don't, they are doomed to do so when they die. We have to wander the worlds, witnessing all that we have done wrong, but could have, had we tried. I'm not totally sure on all the facts; it's just what we got told after the escape shuttle exploded."

"And the chains?" Zim asked curiously, and Red sighed.

"We made these chains in life, forging each link with our sins," he said grumpily, "So, you know, being lazy and stuff. Jeez, you'd have thought they'd give a Tallest a break in the afterlife, but no…"

"Anyway," Purple cut in, "Your fate is the same as ours, Zim. You too will be doomed to spend the afterlife as we do. Captive, bound and double-ironed. But there is a way to change that fate…"

It was here that Red slapped Purple upside the head, a look of astonishment on his face. Zim watched with wide eyes as the two pushed and shoved each other until the chains around their wrists and waists tugged them violently away from each other and held them apart. Red glared at Purple angrily.

"Why are we telling Zim how to avoid this? I thought we were just coming to haunt him, I didn't think we were helping him!" he demanded, and Purple rolled his eyes.

"Look, you know we're in this mess because we lied to him and banished him, we're supposed to show him some mercy or we'll never be spared from…"

"Banished?" Zim breathed, and Purple clapped a hand over his mouth with a melodramatic gasp. Red groaned.

"Now look what you've done, idiot! Look, Zim, the point is, you're going to be visited by three more apparitions, who'll make sure you don't get clapped in irons. And if you can't show a little mercy, you won't be shown any later on," he said seriously, before turning to Purple. "There, you happy now?"

"Three more ghosts?" Zim repeated breathlessly, and Red nodded.

"Yeah. The first'll come when the clock strikes one. Then one each hour after that. Right, now our job is done. Let's hit the road, Pur," he said, and they disappeared with a pop and a flash of light.

Zim sank down onto the couch with a dull feeling of dread. Three more ghosts, three apparitions, or he too would be doomed in the afterlife. And the Tallest had banished him? What did that make his mission? A fake? They had lied to him, but why would they do that? Down in the lab, GIR coughed loudly.

Please review! I'll update this next Tuesday.

This is dedicated to my very bestest friend.

Invader Zim belongs to Jhonen Vasquez. The story 'A Christmas Carol' belonged to Charles Dickens. There's a link to read the original story on my profile, if you're interested.