Greeting from the doomed planet of Animagess. I've only recently gotten into Jhonen Vasquez's wonderful works of dark, scary horrors, and, well, this is the result.
Doomy Disclaimer of Gratuitous Legal Doom: Since I haven't seen all the episodes, some things may have been changed or omitted completely, and as such, blah blah blah. Anyway it wasn't my fault. Also, I feel no need to point out that I don't own any part of Invader Zim (although I do have some of his molt in a jar), because this is Fanfiction.net after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: The Beginning of Stuff
The boundaries of the kitchen floor stretched outwards, beyond his field of vision. No matter. Perspective was meaningless in his deadly world, for he had a mission to accomplish. He crept stealthily across the linoleum, scanning first to the left, then the right. No action was wasted. He moved on, all senses on alert.
A single thought ran like quicksilver through his head: *Mittens are evil. WEE-HEE-HEEE!*
With this in mind, he POUNCED!! Like a living trashcan with a stray banana peel, the small, compact figure used every inch of motion to its full potential, in order to render the enemy to nothing more than a tidy little package of cardboard shreddings and whole-wheat graininess...
Zim, the Infallibly Invincible Invader from Irk (I.I.I.I.) stalked into the kitchen to be met with the scene of a little robot ravaging a box of cereal.
"GIR!! Cease your senseless carnagings of that cereal, putrid though it may be with its FILTHY HUMAN TASTE-NESS!!!" Zim roared, pointing a pointy finger pointily. GIR blinked.
"Save them for the moment when we take over the world," Zim advised his assistant briskly, pacing around the remains of Toasty Wheat Bran Snakki Wakki Corn Feces (tm). "You will need your power when that time comes. Oh, how it will come. It will come like no other time has ever come before."
GIR looked at him with his head cocked to one side. "Schmaah?"
"EXACTLY!!" Zim screamed, clenching his fists. He stood trembling with undirected rage for a minute, then slowly let himself relax. He pulled on his degrading human disguise and hopped off the front steps, Gir-dog in tow. Happy, happy tow.
The skool bell rang and the students filed into its dark, carnivorous, door-y maw. A little meter near the entrance read "Inmate Capacity: 30%... 40%... 50%..." The numbers clicked up until the building was full. Then the doors slammed shut and metal bars thudded doomily down in front of them. The meter whirred and said monotonously "Building capacity at 100%. All members of staff please commence brainwashing."
Ms. Bitters swooped down behind her desk and huddled there, grimace in place and ready to begin the day.
"It displeases me so to inform you all that the Skoolboard has discovered a brand new teaching technique and is anxious to use it on your maggoty, ungrateful heads. The program will begin next Wendsdsay after the teaching package arrives. Are there any questions?" she rasped, eyeing the class beadily. Melvin slowly raised his hand.
Bitters came down upon him like the fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse on a jelly-filled donut. "Yessssss, MELVIN?!!" she shrieked in his face. Melvin cowered and whimpered. "Um, uh, w-what is the technique they're gonna experiment on us with??" he stammered, halfway under his desk.
Ms. Bitters placed her clawed hands on his desktop and squinted at him. "Melvin," she croaked softly, "...experiment is not the correct word. You see, class- I hope you all learn from Melvin's stupidity and humiliation, by the way- an experiment is something that you do in order to learn something NEW. For example, if you had a bunch of strange chemicals you'd never seen before, and you poured them all into a big pot to see what would happen, it would probably explode and kill you. Or, at the very least, let off deadly fumes that would irradiate your house for weeks. THAT is an experiment."
She continued her lecture as she swooped back into her chair at the front of the class. "This new teaching technique has already been used in other places of learning-" Ms. Bitters gave a little shudder- "-with satisfactory results. In other words, they already know what's going to happen to you."
"But Ms. Bitters," Zita asked from behind Zim, "...what DID happen to the other children that got tested with this technique?"
*Foolish Earthanoids,* Zim thought, already bored out of his Irken skull. *Already this lesson is beginning to make my brain leak out my ears. Perhaps I should excuse myself to the washroom, or maybe attempt to move this paperclip with my mind...*
Dib caught his otherworldly arch nemesis staring intently at a red paperclip lying on Ms. Bitter's desk. *What are you up to now, Zim?* Dib wondered, glaring at the alien. *What plans to conquer Earth involving paperclips could you be thinking of now?*
Meanwhile, Ms. Bitters was deep in her response to Zita. "...well you see, Zita," she croaked, "...it has a different effect depending on the student. If you're lucky the strain won't make your head dissolve into a mire of disgusting red Jello and you will be able to continue with the assignment. If not, I shall be forced to expel you."
Ms. Bitters then glanced at the clock, then screeched "NO MORE QUESTIONS!! Class, open your textbooks quickly. The process of assimilating you into society cannot begin until everyone's textbooks are OPEN!!"
She bent over her desk and hissed in the direction of the inattentive Zim, who had only managed to move the paperclip 3 degrees to the right (although that might have been the cause of Ms Bitters bumping the desk).
The class obediently opened their books (except for a brave child named Phobert, who had an ordinary book that just had 'TEXTBOOK' written across the front. A few days later, his future was found in ruins on the skool flagpole) and the students quietly read about when the War of 1812 occurred and why squirrels were relevant to the downfall of the Huns (Answer: They weren't).
All except Zim and Dib, of course. While everyone else was diligently filling their minds with useless trash, Zim had suddenly been struck by a brain flash such as he'd never experienced.
"Yessssss," he hissed softly, barely able to contain his shouts of "BY THE TALLEST!! I HAVE DONE IT!! EARTH SHALL BE OURS BY NEXT WEDNESDAY!!!!!! BWA HA HA HA!!!!!! ...moo-ha."
Instead he hunched down, put his body on Autopilot, and began to mentally prepare his latest plot. Dib watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye.
*You may think you can fool me with your textbook-reading facade, Zim,* he thought, gritting his teeth, *...but in reality, I can see right through you! You're not developing a plot that has anything to do with paperclips, are you, Zim? No, this is bigger than paperclips... far bigger...*
Dib peered around to make sure nobody was listening in on his thoughts with some kind of alien mind-reading probe. Then he narrowed his eyes and whispered:
"But not bigger than me."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Review or die a horrible stinky death.
Doomy Disclaimer of Gratuitous Legal Doom: Since I haven't seen all the episodes, some things may have been changed or omitted completely, and as such, blah blah blah. Anyway it wasn't my fault. Also, I feel no need to point out that I don't own any part of Invader Zim (although I do have some of his molt in a jar), because this is Fanfiction.net after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: The Beginning of Stuff
The boundaries of the kitchen floor stretched outwards, beyond his field of vision. No matter. Perspective was meaningless in his deadly world, for he had a mission to accomplish. He crept stealthily across the linoleum, scanning first to the left, then the right. No action was wasted. He moved on, all senses on alert.
A single thought ran like quicksilver through his head: *Mittens are evil. WEE-HEE-HEEE!*
With this in mind, he POUNCED!! Like a living trashcan with a stray banana peel, the small, compact figure used every inch of motion to its full potential, in order to render the enemy to nothing more than a tidy little package of cardboard shreddings and whole-wheat graininess...
Zim, the Infallibly Invincible Invader from Irk (I.I.I.I.) stalked into the kitchen to be met with the scene of a little robot ravaging a box of cereal.
"GIR!! Cease your senseless carnagings of that cereal, putrid though it may be with its FILTHY HUMAN TASTE-NESS!!!" Zim roared, pointing a pointy finger pointily. GIR blinked.
"Save them for the moment when we take over the world," Zim advised his assistant briskly, pacing around the remains of Toasty Wheat Bran Snakki Wakki Corn Feces (tm). "You will need your power when that time comes. Oh, how it will come. It will come like no other time has ever come before."
GIR looked at him with his head cocked to one side. "Schmaah?"
"EXACTLY!!" Zim screamed, clenching his fists. He stood trembling with undirected rage for a minute, then slowly let himself relax. He pulled on his degrading human disguise and hopped off the front steps, Gir-dog in tow. Happy, happy tow.
The skool bell rang and the students filed into its dark, carnivorous, door-y maw. A little meter near the entrance read "Inmate Capacity: 30%... 40%... 50%..." The numbers clicked up until the building was full. Then the doors slammed shut and metal bars thudded doomily down in front of them. The meter whirred and said monotonously "Building capacity at 100%. All members of staff please commence brainwashing."
Ms. Bitters swooped down behind her desk and huddled there, grimace in place and ready to begin the day.
"It displeases me so to inform you all that the Skoolboard has discovered a brand new teaching technique and is anxious to use it on your maggoty, ungrateful heads. The program will begin next Wendsdsay after the teaching package arrives. Are there any questions?" she rasped, eyeing the class beadily. Melvin slowly raised his hand.
Bitters came down upon him like the fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse on a jelly-filled donut. "Yessssss, MELVIN?!!" she shrieked in his face. Melvin cowered and whimpered. "Um, uh, w-what is the technique they're gonna experiment on us with??" he stammered, halfway under his desk.
Ms. Bitters placed her clawed hands on his desktop and squinted at him. "Melvin," she croaked softly, "...experiment is not the correct word. You see, class- I hope you all learn from Melvin's stupidity and humiliation, by the way- an experiment is something that you do in order to learn something NEW. For example, if you had a bunch of strange chemicals you'd never seen before, and you poured them all into a big pot to see what would happen, it would probably explode and kill you. Or, at the very least, let off deadly fumes that would irradiate your house for weeks. THAT is an experiment."
She continued her lecture as she swooped back into her chair at the front of the class. "This new teaching technique has already been used in other places of learning-" Ms. Bitters gave a little shudder- "-with satisfactory results. In other words, they already know what's going to happen to you."
"But Ms. Bitters," Zita asked from behind Zim, "...what DID happen to the other children that got tested with this technique?"
*Foolish Earthanoids,* Zim thought, already bored out of his Irken skull. *Already this lesson is beginning to make my brain leak out my ears. Perhaps I should excuse myself to the washroom, or maybe attempt to move this paperclip with my mind...*
Dib caught his otherworldly arch nemesis staring intently at a red paperclip lying on Ms. Bitter's desk. *What are you up to now, Zim?* Dib wondered, glaring at the alien. *What plans to conquer Earth involving paperclips could you be thinking of now?*
Meanwhile, Ms. Bitters was deep in her response to Zita. "...well you see, Zita," she croaked, "...it has a different effect depending on the student. If you're lucky the strain won't make your head dissolve into a mire of disgusting red Jello and you will be able to continue with the assignment. If not, I shall be forced to expel you."
Ms. Bitters then glanced at the clock, then screeched "NO MORE QUESTIONS!! Class, open your textbooks quickly. The process of assimilating you into society cannot begin until everyone's textbooks are OPEN!!"
She bent over her desk and hissed in the direction of the inattentive Zim, who had only managed to move the paperclip 3 degrees to the right (although that might have been the cause of Ms Bitters bumping the desk).
The class obediently opened their books (except for a brave child named Phobert, who had an ordinary book that just had 'TEXTBOOK' written across the front. A few days later, his future was found in ruins on the skool flagpole) and the students quietly read about when the War of 1812 occurred and why squirrels were relevant to the downfall of the Huns (Answer: They weren't).
All except Zim and Dib, of course. While everyone else was diligently filling their minds with useless trash, Zim had suddenly been struck by a brain flash such as he'd never experienced.
"Yessssss," he hissed softly, barely able to contain his shouts of "BY THE TALLEST!! I HAVE DONE IT!! EARTH SHALL BE OURS BY NEXT WEDNESDAY!!!!!! BWA HA HA HA!!!!!! ...moo-ha."
Instead he hunched down, put his body on Autopilot, and began to mentally prepare his latest plot. Dib watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye.
*You may think you can fool me with your textbook-reading facade, Zim,* he thought, gritting his teeth, *...but in reality, I can see right through you! You're not developing a plot that has anything to do with paperclips, are you, Zim? No, this is bigger than paperclips... far bigger...*
Dib peered around to make sure nobody was listening in on his thoughts with some kind of alien mind-reading probe. Then he narrowed his eyes and whispered:
"But not bigger than me."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Review or die a horrible stinky death.