A/N: I completed this story within two weeks. It will be about two chapters including an epilogue. It's not a very long story, but it was just a practice and test to see if I could complete it. This was an idea I had for a while and finally decided to write it. As a heads up, the word 'piss' comes into this chapter as a warning for anyone.

Disclaimer: Jhonen was too busy at InvaderCON back in 2012 (which was the time of this story's publication) to worry about me using his stuff. But nonetheless, I don't own Invader Zim. I never have and never will...

...

Deep in the smelly bowels of an evil lair lives the small, prideful Irken known as Zim, working on a complex-looking machine with his highly skilled hands. With his capabilities, he could create the most evil weapons of mass destruction, upsetting the ultimate balance of mankind... Well, he could if he wasn't so hung up on destroying the existence of one human boy...

Zim was altering his new machine, adding a few adjustments here and there until he was satisfied with the results. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he stepped down from the machine and put his wrench to one side. He contemplated his fine work as a small smile crept up to the corners of his mouth, revealing jagged, zipper-like teeth.

His machine resembled a giant wheel with a circular cross-section for boring into soil and rock strata. Its purpose was to create tunnels, not unlike the similar human device used to tunnel through mountains.

Though it should be taken into consideration that this machine came from the mind of an Irken, even if said Irken was moronically insane. Therefore, it is far more superior to any human machine, even it bears a resemblance.

Zim puffed up his chest and broadened his shoulders, then let it all out as he prepared his speech. "This is it, GIR. We are finally one stop closer to our goal of conquering this primitive rock. Can't you feel it? It reeks of victory!"

Zim inhaled deeply, smelling the thick, oily scent of his success. But there were no cheering sounds of praise, or cries of joy, that welcomed his speech.

"GIR, where are you? Why aren't you by my side, encouraging me with motivating words– … wait, who am I kidding? Just get by my side, wherever you are! I suppose your attendance is better than none at all."

Zim's eyes scanned his subterranean lab, but there was no sign of a dysfunctional SIR unit anywhere. How odd. Where could he be? A memory resurfaced in his mind from this morning, triggered by the brain-controlling centres of his PAK.

The image was vague, but he recalled sitting on the couch with GIR earlier today, watching that ugly simian on TV (how on Irk a monkey got his own show is beyond anyone's guess).

There the two were enjoying one another's company, until GIR suggested playing a game of 'hide and seek'.

"Such an infantile mind, but I should probably just humor him for now. Maybe if I can lower myself to his standards, I can finally understand his foolish ways, and bring forth some form of competence? He is supposed to be an advanced model..." Zim thoughts droned from earlier today, enticing his current ego with pride. Such an astonishing thinker he was...

"All right, GIR, we will play this juvenile game of yours, and have some fun!"

"Yay, I like fun! I go hide, and you count to 1143!"

GIR jumped off the couch to look for a cool hiding place, while Zim covered his eyes and counted to 1143. However, he only reached 365 until he finally had enough, and went to look for GIR.

Despite his best efforts, the Irken could not find his minion anywhere. Even the computer was none the wiser to his whereabouts. So he let it be, thinking about how bad of an idea it was to play the stupid game in the first place, and carried on with his work.

Now here he was, alone, without a sidekick to rant to about how amazing his new plan was. Suppose he just had to use the next best thing...

"Minimoose! Come and stand by Zim's side, and help him observe his new, masterful ploy to destroy the hyoomens!" he yelled, bringing his fists up to his face with a tight squeeze.

The little moose, which was hovering wistfully around the lab with nothing better to do, came floating by his master's side, and gave him an encouraging squeak. "Nyeh."

"Oh, Minimoose, you always have the right words. Yes, it is an astonishing sight to behold, isn't it? But such is expected from the amazing brain of Zim! Witness my ingenious machine; the tunnel excavator of DOOM! Yes, I said Doom! Mwahahaha!"

Zim's evil laughter rebounded through his lair, sounding creepy and distorted once it echoed back.

"Do I really sound like that? Oh well. Enough distractions! Minimoose, it's time to test drive –"

"Ooooooh, can I drive?" GIR shouted by his master's side, holding onto a huge lollipop. His dog suit was black and scorched, showing off half of his robot face. As usual, GIR's horrific appearance didn't seem to bother him, but it had a much stronger effect on Zim.

"Ugh, GIR, don't ever sneak up like that! It's horribly disturbing. Where've you been, anyway? I've looked all over for you."

"I… don't know," GIR answered unsettled. He stared off into the abyss with a vapid expression, releasing a cold shiver. But then all was well again, as he licked his lollipop with a happy squee.

Zim pulled up an invisible brow, looking at GIR utterly confused. Utterly because that's just how strange GIR was... "Okay... Well, now that you're here, you may as well tell me what you think of my new machine. What is your verdict, GIR?"

GIR narrowed one eye, considering his master's new machine with a look of pure concentration. A small squeaking noise even sounded from his belly... "Mmmm... it has a pretty, round face, like a chubbeh ladeh!"

"What?! It isn't supposed to be pretty, GIR. It's supposed to be–… ugh, why do I even bother asking you? You're just a moron!"

"All she needs is some lipstick!" GIR ran over to the circular cross-section, which bore into the wall, and pulled out a tube of red lipstick. Now he painted on a pair of, surprisingly, nice red lips.

"Aw, she looks so beautiful..."

The end result consisted of a huge pair of luscious red lips, painted on the front of Zim's diabolical machine. The alien wasn't too impressed.

"Yeah, we're gonna look so menacing, GIR, burrowing beneath the Earth wearing red lipstick..." Zim mocked. "What is wrong with you?! Get that dirt off my machine! It sickens me..."

"Okay," GIR said sadly, and walked over to the face of the tunnel excavator, wiping away the makeup with a cloth.

"Now, let the test-driving commence, and see what power my creation bestows!"

Zim scurried over and jumped up into the cockpit to drive the excavator into the thick wall of bare earth he exposed. GIR joined him inside, but Minimoose stayed behind. The moose didn't feel like digging through tonnes of earth today; he was merely there to observe.

"Now let us wreak havoc among these... Homo sapiens... Mwahahaha!"

"Homo what?"

"Oh be quiet, GIR. It's merely Latin for man!"

"But I didn't –"

"You're lying! Anyhow, let the tunneling begin!" Zim looked over his control panel with the many Irken symbols, and settled for a simple button with a smiley face. But nothing happened. Typical...

"What is this? GIR, what did you do?"

"I dunno," GIR shrugged stupidly, and shoved his lollipop into his mouth.

"Minimoose! Check the engines; see what is hindering my plans from –" the machine suddenly roared to life as if it had a life of its own, or maybe it was slow to react? Regardless, Zim was relishing in the glory, savouring every little tremor that seeped through his tiny bones.

The machine bore into the wall like a knife through cheese, as Zim was triumphant. "Hahaha, yes! Hear me now, humans. You will not know a moment longer of privacy once I, Invader Zim, have weakened your greatest defences!"

"Hey, why we doin' this again? Why we tunneling underground like moles? I like moles... check out mah mole!" GIR pointed to a small black spot on his face, grinning like a happy idiot.

Zim paused mid-laughter, "Oh, yeah. I guess I forget to explain... Good job, GIR. In one of your rare and random moments of clarity, you could correct me on my mistake. And for that you deserve a cookie..." Zim placed a cookie inside of GIR's mouth, who squeed like a happy idiot again.

"Now, where to begin? Picture the human inhabitants of Earth above us, GIR, all asleep in their warm little beds while we tunnel beneath their homes, ready to sneak up on them unprepared. Rwahaha–..." Zim laughed again, but stopped short to cough.

"Wait, what we gonna do when we break into their homes?"

"I... I guess I haven't thought this through..." Zim reflected.

"Well that's stoopid."

"You dare to mock the brilliance of Z –… eh, I'll figure it out later. Now stop pestering me, GIR. Your questions bore me."

"Okie dokie!" GIR shrieked, and pulled out a toy ball from his head with a ferret attached. It rolled about the floor of the cockpit as the ball dragged the fury animal along. GIR laughed and clapped every time it started a new course.

Zim rolled his pupil-less eyes, and carried on with his current path to destroy the humans. Of course, he was going to figure out his plan later.

…

Miss Margery Wills -a young mother of two- was getting ready for her second job behind a bar at a strip club. She had a day job as a waitress, but often moonlighted to pay off all her bills. She hated having to leave her children in the hands of the babysitter, her sixteen-year-old cousin, but she had a lot of bills to pay: being a single mother is tough. She loved her children, and did the best she could to give them a proper upbringing.

It was hard enough her son went to skool with the famous Professor Membrane's son. That guy must be loaded. His kids looked so well off, despite being on the abnormal side. But she didn't want her son to feel awful because he didn't have all the latest gadgets like his fellow classmates, especially the Membrane kids, whose gadgets appeared a little hi-tech.

From what her son informed, the two were complete outcasts. He was a jock; the strongest boy at his skool. He was always lifting weights and doing press-ups. Many girls had a crush on him, and he was even dating a little girl called Zita. She was quite cute from what he told her.

"Why should twelve-year-olds need to date? Shouldn't they be more worried about having cash for candy, or owning the latest smartphone?"

Of course, her son didn't own such an object, nor did he have any wish too. He seemed content with his young life. He was a strong, happy boy, unlike his coward of a father, running out on them when things got tough.

"Mom, when we ordering pizza?! I'm starving!" said son shouted up the stairs. Yes, her loving little boy...

"When Chrissie arrives. Can't you wait fifteen minutes, Torque?"

"But I'm hungry!"

"Be quiet, you'll wake your little sister."

"Well when's she coming? She'll probably be late again."

"She's just sent me a text; she's on her way."

"Whatever, I'm gonna lift some weights."

Margery rolled her eyes.

She donned her second uniform for her night shift, a simple black shirt and pants, and tied her long brown hair in a pony tail. She left the room to go down stairs. On her way across the hall, she heard a small cry from her little daughter's bedroom, and poked her head through the door that was left ajar.

Through the darkness, she could just make out her brown hair beneath the quilts, and her small, shivering form. Concerned, she made her way to her bed, and settled upon the mattress to pull the quilts off the little girl.

"Sweetie, what's the matter? Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yeah," she cried. "There was a monster in my room, watching me from over there." She pointed to a dark, shadowed corner. "He had red eyes, and his skin was green."

Her skin paled in the dim light of her lamps. This was the fifth night this week.

"Oh, Mae, don't be scared. It was just a dream; it wasn't real," she comforted, brushing her fingers across her cheek.

"Don't go," she cried, gripping her mother with all her strength. "Please don't go, stay here with me."

Margery did as much as she could to suppress her tears. How could she just leave her child like this? It wasn't right. Her poor little girl needed her.

"I have to go, sweetie. You know we need the money."

"But I'm scared. What if the monster comes back, and I won't have you here to protect me?"

"You've got your big brother; he'll protect you. And Chrissie, you love Chrissie, right?"

She wasn't sure, but it looked like her four-year-old rolled her eyes upon the mention of the teenage girl's name.

"Look, I'll promise to be here when you wake up first thing tomorrow, all right? Can you be a big girl for mommy?"

"But the monster –"

"He isn't real. How many times do I have to tell you? Monsters aren't real..."

"... Okay. I can be brave for you, Mommy," she said sweetly.

"That's my girl. I have to go. Torque will stay with you till you fall back asleep."

Mae nodded her head, holding onto the many stuffed animals around her pillow. Margery gave her a hug and kissed her forehead. She left the room, but not before turning around to give the girl one last wave.

Once her mother left, little Mae pulled the quilts over her head, not wanting to see the far corner of her room where the scary monster lurks. The familiar voices of her brother's protests, and her mother's warning tone gave her comfort. Then someone came into the room, and she looked up to see the brawny silhouette of Torque in the doorway, making his way toward her.

"What is it now, squirt? Did you dream about the Boogeyman again?"

"No, it was a little green man, sitting right there watching me."

"You know; there's a little green boy at my skool. He's a complete freak. Maybe it was him?"

The girl whimpered and pulled the covers over her head.

"Geez, I was kidding. Can't you take a joke? He has a skin disease or something, and I've beaten him up millions of times. I'd just beat him up again if he were here now."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course, you're my little sis. I've gotta protect you from all the scary monsters. Come on get to sleep. I'll read you a story."

"Thank you, Torque."

"Yeah, sure..." he said and opened up a book. She snuggled in bed and listened to him read a story about kittens.

Margery stood outside the door listening to her children. A smile spread across her lips. She had great kids, despite everything. They were there for one another. She didn't know what she would do without them.

There was a knock at the door, and she sighed. Here comes the world's most dramatic teenager, Chrissie, who brought trouble wherever she went. She walked down the steps, as the doorbell kept ringing and ringing.

"All right, I'm coming!" Margery snapped.

She opened the door to reveal a blonde teenage girl looking very irritated, as if the weight of the whole world nestled upon her shoulders.

"What took you so long?" she said, pushing through the door and throwing her bag on the floor with a frustrated sigh.

"It only took me five seconds to get down the stairs."

"Whatever. You better be paying me extra tonight. I do have a life, you know? My friend was throwing a cool house party with a DJ and everything, and I was at the top of his guest list."

"Aw, that's just too terrible. Poor you..."

"Oh shut up!" she snapped. "So, where the brats?"

"I won't have you address my children in that way, Chrissie."

"Sorry," she apologised half-heartedly.

Margery pulled the phone from the hook, and put it in the teenager's hand. "I already have a phone, thank you, but I guess I can have this thing too..."

"I want you to order pizza!"

"Pizza? No, no, no. I'm on a diet again."

"I promised my son he could have pizza, so make the call!" She handed the girl some cash.

"Fine.." She dialled the number for Bloaty's automatically, like her hand had done it so many times, despite her diet.

"What toppings does he want?"

"All the meat they've got with extra cheese."

"Figures," she remarked. The person picked up, and she ordered, or more less demanded, the pizza with all meat and extra cheese.

"And get here pronto, loser." She hung up as Margery looked at her shocked. "What?" she asked genuinely surprised. "He goes to my skool. We're good friends. Well, we would be if he didn't have so much acne."

She dropped the phone on the couch and slouched in front of the TV, putting on some mind-numbing reality show.

Margery shook her head and looked over at the clock. "I'd better get to work, it almost eight. I've got to be at the bar for nine."

"Don't you mean strip club? Ha-ha," Chrissie laughed.

Margery scowled. "Oh, be quiet. That's where you'll be working if you keep up your wild behavior. And I don't mean behind the bar," she added, and made her way out the door.

Chrissie pulled a face once she left, sticking up her middle finger at the door. "Piss off, bitch."

Margery made her way toward the bus stop, wrapping her coat around her body from the biting cold. She was sure it was going to snow tonight. The air was icy, and it left small white tendrils where her breath escaped her mouth.

Once she reached the bus stop a couple of streets away, she saw a gang of teenage boys hanging around like hooligans, or apes... They commandeered the area as if were their own. Immediately she was self-conscious, and wrapped her coat over her chest.

One of them wolf-whistled when she passed by, and she shook her head in irritation. They only laughed thinking it was the funniest thing ever. She was obviously older than them. If only they knew she was going to a strip club, behind the bar to serve drinks, but still. They would probably be more enthusiastic.

The bus came, and she stood up from the frozen seat relieved, holding her hand out for it to stop. It pulled up beside her, and she made her way inside the warm interior and paid her fare. She sat down on the front row.

As she sat on her seat, she looked outside the window, seeing an older man shouting abusive things at the ring leader of the pack. Then he pushed him into one of his affiliates.

Through the fogged window, she recognised the man and his typical drunken posture. It was her damned ex Mike, her 'on and off' boyfriend she dated for a few insignificant months. He grew possessive of her, and he was an abusive alcoholic. Her kids didn't need anyone like that in their lives, and neither did she.

Mike looked up at her through the window, grinning drunkenly as the teenage boys were moving away from him fast.

He gave the ring leader of the gang, who ogled Margery, a good drunken thump, just about missing his eye. The kid looked terrified, so they moved as far away as possible. The drunk would probably forget the ordeal in the next five minutes, with his mind foggy with alcohol.

Mike still thought she was his woman, and he was determined to get her back. Hopefully, in his drunken stupor, he had forgotten where her house was. She didn't want him showing up there. She sent Chrissie a message to look out for him just as the bus drove off.

…

Zim and GIR sat in silence while deep cold earth crumbled before them. Zim had been quiet for half an hour, as all that previous excitement of his venture beneath the Earth washed away. It was just so boring. Was he just supposed to sit here and do nothing? It could take forever!

In his peripheral vision, he could see GIR fiddling with his single antenna, while it twanged like a horrible spring. The repetitive, metallic sound grew louder and louder, drowning out all other sounds. Zim was sure his inner ears were bleeding.

His right eye and antenna twitched, provoked by GIR's constant noise. Then it all spiralled out of control, exploding inside of Zim's head like a million fireworks.

"I can't sit here any longer!"

Zim pulled the emergency stop which was a long chain on his left, bringing the tunnel excavator to an abrupt halt. The silence after was deafening in comparison to the constant drone of the machine. The only sounds that accompanied them now were Zim's heavy breathing as he tried to compose himself.

GIR stared with his chin hanging loose, surprised at his master's outburst. Zim glanced his way sheepish, but then he collected his wits and put on his most authoritative voice.

"This is more complicated than I thought. It could take months, years before we create a labyrinth beneath the entire city. What was I thinking? It's definitely not one of my proudest moments. Oh well. We may as well work with what we got. Come on, GIR."

Zim climbed out the cockpit as GIR followed suit. Once outside, Zim could see his fine work. There was a long, dark tunnel stretching far behind the excavator, all the way back to the lab where Minimoose still hovered wistfully.

"Nyeh..." he said.

A quiet wind drifted down the tunnel, bringing the thick, sweet smell of earth his way. He was impressed but also intimidated by the long tunnel leading into the dark void beyond. Fear struck his tiny heart, but only for a second. Zim was feeling more bold than ever today.

By his side, GIR looked up at the wall of the tunnel, waving at a dinosaur skull embedded deep in the earth.

"Hi there!" he waved, pulling off one of its jagged teeth to drop it inside his thermos head. There just seemed to be an infinite amount of space inside that SIR's cranium...

Zim composed himself and turned to GIR. "All right, GIR, now we begin." He pulled out a small device from his PAK, extending his spider legs to reach the ceiling of the tunnel to place the thing through the thick soil above.

Zim lowered himself to the ground again, looking like a crab in the way his PAK legs sprawled around him. The device he placed in the earth expanded in width as it began to drill up to the surface, making a passage big enough for them to squeeze through.

"Above us now a human home resides, hopefully with all the residents asleep. If not, then we'll just have to take some hostages. My research center does look a little drab these days. Ha-ha-ha," he laughed, darkly.

GIR nodded in agreement.

"Once above, we'll plant spy bugs around their dwelling, and inject this serum into their veins." He held up a small syringe with thick white goo inside, and a few camera/spy bugs.

"Molecular-sized bots will sweep through their bloodstream and recombine their DNA, turning them into my slaves. Plus, with the spy bugs installed, I'll be able to watch their transformation all the way from the lab. It could take a matter of days for the bots to complete a full invasion of the host, but the humans will be none the wiser..."

"Wait... I thought you said you has no plans? Where d'ya get all this?" GIR asked, pointing to the syringe in another moment of clarity.

"Silence! I– uh, I happened to have carried them on board the excavator, thinking they may come into good use. Turns out I was right, so there, ha! You won't be making a fool out of me this time, GIR."

GIR blinked a few times, confused by Zim's accusations. But the Irken ignored his foolish gaze.

"Enough chitchat, let's do this!"

Zim scuttled to the hole he created and looked up at the narrow space, wide enough for him and GIR to fit through. A tiny light flashed up above, declaring that the drill had reached the surface.

"It is time, GIR. Let this be the first phase of our greatest plan to … uh… just come over here!"

GIR skipped over to Zim as the Irken hugged him to his chest, and began to climb the tunnel, using his PAK legs to grip into the soil.

On Zim's command, GIR used his bright, cyan eyes so they could see through the dark. Now they had a blue, foggy light while they ascended the tunnel, creating distorted shadows through the narrow space. It was quite scary, but not enough to thwart this Invader and his mission.

"I know; let's play a game. I spy with my cyan eye…"

Zim's cry of protest echoed down the tunnel and back towards the abandoned excavator. Hopefully, climbing so many feet to the Earth's surface shouldn't take too long.

...

Chrissie sprawled across the couch with her eyes clued to the TV; channel surfing like no other teenager had done before. After about ten flicks of garbled TV dialogue all mixed in one sentence, she finally settled on another reality show about the rich and famous (seriously, isn't anyone else getting sick of these?).

"That's the worst nose job I've ever seen, and that dress makes her look so fat! It would look much hotter on me..."

The sound of the doorbell brought her out of her daydream. She pursed her lips, rising from the couch pissed for some stupid reason. She opened the door where a tall, gangly boy stood covered in acne. In his hands he held a pizza box. There was a large pig and the name 'Bloaty's written across the front.

"Here's the pizza you order–"

She snatched the pizza from his hands then threw the money in his face. "Yeah, now get lost. And don't forget to finish our science project for Monday." She shut the door with her hip, and carried the pizza to the kitchen.

Outside, the pizza delivery boy looked very dissatisfied. "Thanks for the tip," he said, sarcastically, " I love you..." His shoulders slumped, and he left the door looking totally depressed. Too bad his crush was a bitch.

Chrissie opened the box and gagged mockingly, pretending that the pizza made her sick. They seemed to get the toppings about right, so she made her way to the bottom steps, and called for the boy to get his food.

"Torque, come get your stinkin' pizza!"

There was the sound of a door opening, and then the heavy footfalls of the preteen boy came crashing down the stairs. "Finally, I'm starving. I was gonna eat that four-week old piece of super toast beneath the closet if it didn't get here sooner."

"Ew, like I needed to hear that! Hurry up and eat. I want you in bed ASAP. I'm expecting someone."

"Who's the poor guy you're dating now?"

"We're not dating; we're just friends..."

"I'm twelve, not eight, Chris. I have a girlfriend now."

"Pfft, who'd wanna date you..."

"I could say the same for you. You're not as pretty as you think."

She smacked the back of his head, which hurt her more than it did him, literally.

"Hey, quit it!" he snapped.

"I'll have you know that I used to model swim wear when I was thirteen. I already had the right body shape and everything."

"So, who cares. Old men were probably perving on you anyway."

"Why wouldn't they?" she asked, slyly. He scowled at her as she laughed, making her way to the living room while the boy ate his pizza.

Just as Torque was on his last slice, lifting a weight in his spare arm, there came another knock at the door. Chrissie jumped up in alarm and checked herself in the mirror, happy with what she saw. Why wouldn't she be?

"Torque, hurry. He's here."

"I'll go when I've done fifty pumps," he called.

She growled and walked to the front door. Her whole body language changed as soon as she saw who was waiting, and she bit her bottom lip.

A tall, good-looking boy, about eighteen, stood under the porch, grinning down at her.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied in a breathy voice. In the kitchen, Torque shook his head. What kind of pick-up line was that? She invited him inside and took his leather coat, hanging it on the wall where all the best coats were kept.

"Right this way," she chirped, and he followed her into the living room, smelling the familiar scent of pizza.

"Cool, we havin' pizza?"

"No, that's my twelve-year-old cousin. And he's almost finished!" she yelled for Torque's convenience.

The boy looked disappointed, "Oh, well that's all right."

"I could make you a sandwich if you'd like?" Chrissie suggested, putting on her sweetest voice.

"Yeah, okay, but don't forget to cut the crusts off. I hate them."

Chrissie's smile vanished at once.

"Pfft, what kind of man doesn't want crusts on his bread? That's the part that makes you strong." Torque came through from the kitchen, lifting a weight in his hand while drinking a can of poop in the other. Multi-tasking to the extreme...

Chrissie's 'friend' looked taken aback at the sight of him. "T-twelve?!" he shouted, looking at Chrissie incredulously. She shrugged, confused by his surprise.

"Geez, the kid's even big for fifteen!"

"His dad was a boxer, and he lifts a lot of weights and stuff. One time his dad even fit a whole potato in his mouth..." Chrissie explained, still dazed by his question.

"Yeah," Torque said, "and remember that when you're fooling around with my cousin." Torque crushed his empty can of poop between his hands, reducing it to a barely recognisable shape. The boyfriend gulped and stepped back, while a bead of sweat ran down his face.

Torque glared at him for a few more taunting seconds, and began to ascend the stairs. Chrissie, who looked unsure of what to do, followed behind her cousin with an unforgiving scowl.

He raised his brow. "What?"

"Just get to bed, Torque. It's almost ten o'clock."

"I was on my way, anyway. I don't need you to tell me what to do."

Chrissie sighed and brushed him off, not bothering to give him a retort. Now she made her way to her 'friend'.

"I'm sorry about that. He can be quite intense. It's not his fault. His old man ran out –"

"It's all right; he's just concerned for you... I get it."

"Thank you for understanding," she said. "Go on sit down; we're gonna watch a DVD. I'm making popcorn... oh... and one sandwich." Now she skipped off towards the kitchen.

He sat on the couch and flicked through the TV, remembering Torque's threat. He really thought he was going to get lucky tonight, but that threat loomed over his mind, making him quiver.

"There's no way that kid's twelve..."

Across the street the drunken shape of Mike hovered by a street lamp, looking up at the house dazed. He was sure it was Margery's place, but his mind was too foggy with alcohol to recall. However, some innate instinct brought him here from memory.

He saw the young, handsome man walk through the door, and it all spiralled out of control. If this was Margery's house, then who the heck was that she was inviting inside?! Was she cheating on him?

With his senses muddled by drink, and the idea of his woman bringing a younger man into her house to fool around, it made his skin boil. He couldn't recollect seeing said 'girlfriend' leaving for work earlier. He must have forgotten in his clouded state of mind. All he knew was what he saw at present. That can't be normal, how much has this guy had to drink?

He was going to show her up. No one cheats on him. After all, he was the alpha male, not some dork of a teenager.

…

"Is it... mud?"

Zim and GIR had ascended the tunnel now for forty-five minutes, but no matter how much further they climbed, that blinking light wasn't getting any closer. He cursed himself for this stupid mission. Luckily, he wasn't tired, for he had the use of his PAK legs to do all the work for him. But he was getting sick of GIR, who just wouldn't shut up. Why does he even bring him along on these things?

They played his game of 'I spy' the whole time as Zim still didn't guess the answer. What else in the tunnel starts with the letter M?

That was the sixth time he said 'mud'. Another time he said 'mole', referring to GIR's spot on his face, which was wrong, of course. And then he said, 'mission', referring to the mission at hand, and finally, 'megalomaniac'. Who he was referring to for his last answer was anyone's guess.

"Nope," GIR said.

"I give up, GIR. You have bested me in this game of I spy. Now be quiet! I believe we're getting closer to the surface."

"Would you like to know the answer?"

"No."

"It was MASTAH!" GIR exclaimed, squashing Zim's cheeks with his hands, which turned his face all chubby like a baby's. "And Mastah is you!"

Zim looked like he was about to erupt. All that time, the answer was so simple. He held his breath and counted to ten, letting the anger pass through his system.

"Get your paws off my face, GIR, and no more stupid games. I'm growing tired of your child-like behavior, even if it is a part of your 'advanced' programming."

"Aw, but it's so fun. You're just a boring old fart!"

"Fart? How dare of you to refer to the might of Zim – … Oh, look, we're finally here!"

Above their heads, the blinking light continued on the bottom of a flat disk. Zim pressed a button to make it stop. The only light that shone on it now was the blue of GIR's eyes. The drill had done its job, creating a hole on the surface and placing this flat disk to hide its whereabouts till they arrived.

He opened up a small buttoned panel and dialled a code, making the thing shrink back into its original form and back into his hands.

Through the gaping hole all was dark, but there seemed to be a shaft of thin light coming from somewhere nearby. With no time to lose, Zim climbed out the hole and placed GIR on his feet. He withdrew his PAK legs and inspected the area with GIR's eyes as a source of light.

It appeared they were in some old, secluded place that hadn't been in use for a long time. Curious, Zim walked over to a far wall where a grandfather clock towered above. He tapped the pendulum, making the thing swing from side to side for the first time in years.

"This is nothing but junk. All of it! Where are we?"

He looked over at GIR, who was contemplating an old, sepia portrait of a scary lady. GIR grabbed a marker from his head and drew a moustache on her face, making her look much better...

"He-he-he," he giggled.

"GIR!" Zim whispered loudly, trying to keep low-key. "Stop playing around with that dusty old picture; you don't know where it's been."

"Yeah I do, it's been right here," GIR pointed to the picture.

Zim's eye twitched. "We need to find a way out of here. I think it's the humans' basement, which looks as if it hasn't been in use for years. What a waste of space. It would make a fine secret lab..."

"Look over yonder," GIR directed his hand to a thin shaft of light in the shape of a door.

"Excellent! We now have a means of escaping this stink hole! Oh, and GIR; if you ever say yonder again, I'll remove your head."

"Will you fill it with salted nuts?"

"No, toxic beans, actually… What am I saying? Let's go and keep quiet! We have to be inconspicuous, GIR, like mice. Superior mice," he added, tightening his fists with a leather squeak of his gloves.

"I can do like mouse." GIR got down and crawled around, making rodent sounds.

Zim shifted his eyes, "Well… okay..." he said and made his way to the stairs that led to the door. He placed a boot on the first step, but immediately jerked his leg back when it squeaked.

To avoid being caught, he shifted to one side of the steps where they were less likely to make noise, and leant against the wall. He advanced slowly, step by step, till he reached the top.

The alien looked down at GIR, and gave a sigh. The SIR unit was still sniffing about on all fours.

"GIR!" he breathed. "There's no time for fooling around. Get up here!"

GIR walked over to the staircase, and just before Zim was about to warn him of the squeaky stair; GIR placed his paws on the step, then somersaulted up the stairs like a reverse slinky. Once he landed on the top by Zim, he looked up enthusiastically, receiving a look of annoyance and a hint of jealousy from the Irken.

Zim walked over to the door and twisted the knob, hoping the door would budge. "Typical. They've locked their door with… locks. I did not see this coming."

"So we go home now?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous, GIR. We've come too far… Hold on. I have a plan; an ingenious plan. Witness the amazing trickery of Zim!" He pulled out a small hair pin from his PAK, and poked it through the key hole to fiddle with the lock.

"Hey, I see the humans do that on TV."

"I don't know what you're talking about… Ooh it worked. Victory for Zim!"

Zim pulled the door open as a sheet of paper peeled away.

"What is this? They've further barricaded their door with this thin-film of unknown substance. Oh, wait, it's just wallpaper. How silly of me. The humans usually adorn their doors with this stuff. Perfectly normal..."

Zim released his PAK legs, and burnt through the remaining shreds of paper until they were ash. The smell of singed, yellowing wallpaper was nauseating afterwards.

The room beyond looked like a normal human kitchen, with a stack of dirty dishes left by the sink. Someone should really clean those.

"Quiet now, GIR. And remember - mice."

GIR gave a salute and got down on all fours, but not before Zim propped him back up again. "No, GIR, just… don't."

GIR looked very sad as he stood up on two legs like a good little biped.

Zim sneaked inside the kitchen like a green ninja, minus the suit, and looked this way and that for any humans. Realising the coast was clear, he signalled for GIR to follow, who skipped behind joyfully, only to bump into his master. The look Zim gave him next was priceless.

Footsteps sounded outside the kitchen door. Zim had little time to spare. He grabbed a hold of GIR, covered his mouth, and sprung up to the ceiling using his spider legs, which could not be more arachnid-like. Each leg was equipped with tiny, spine like-needles to attach to walls, much like a real spider.

The door opened and a blonde-haired human walked through, extremely irritated.

"And don't forget to add ice!" a voice called from beyond the door.

"And don't forget to add ice," she mocked, pulling a face. Zim and GIR looked at each other as if she were crazy.

She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of poop cola, and poured it in a glass which she took from the dirty dish pile. She shoved the glass beneath the ice chute, and waited till all the ice fell down. The cola splashed everywhere, but not to worry; it's just a little spilt liquid. No one will trip.

She didn't even notice the new door which magically appeared. Instead, she only made her way through to the other room. Zim could hear the humans talking behind the door, and he gave a sigh of relief.

Well, it looks like some humans were still awake, and he was going to have to stick to his original plan. Oh, what a pain it was to have to take human hostages. He decided with his stealth and lightning agility; he would do fine without being caught, and not have to take anyone into custody. Nick was enough to work with for now.

The time on the clock read 10:30. It was almost midnight in an hour. Time to get to work.

He scurried along the ceiling like a four-legged spider (all he needs is four more legs...) and made his way through to the next room, managing to slip through the door unnoticed.

The humans on the couch were watching a movie in silence. Zim studied them a while. They seemed none the wiser to his presence, and he was triumphant. The male did a lame fake yawn, and put his arm over the female's shoulder. It made her happy for some stupid reason. The guy leaned in closer, and sure enough she puckered her lips.

Zim had to leave before it got frisky. He really didn't want to see the act of human mating (that's what Irken documentaries are for). But then to his relief, and to the human girl's disappointment, the guy said, "You've got something on your face," squinting with his eyes to see.

"What?" she asked in horror, and grabbed her compact mirror. She saw that she had, indeed, a small something on her face. It was a coffee granule to be exact. She must have made coffee for someone before.

The boy moved his arm away from her shoulder, and folded it in front of his chest with the other. The girl couldn't look anymore embarrassed as she shook her head, wiping her face of dirt.

Zim shook his own head, saddened by the lowly creatures before him. The sooner he injected the goo into their veins the better, then he can finally put them out of their misery.

"Aw, I really wanted the boy to kiss the girl," GIR whined. "I'll help him."

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la
my, oh, my
look at the boy too shy.
He ain't gonna kiss the girl..."

Zim covered the SIR's mouth as both humans looked around the room, unsettled by the disembodied singing. But they soon shrugged it off. It was probably just a cat outside, singing… Yeah, seems about right.

"GIR, what are you doing? They'll hear us," Zim whispered to the bot.

"Well duh that's the point. I'm trying to set the mood..."

Zim glared at GIR with shimmering eyes, and pulled out a roll of duct tape from his PAK, placing a piece over the SIR's mouth. Why he had never thought to do that ever before was astonishing... Simple as that, and his voice was gone.

He gave the teenage humans one more disapproving look, and made his way out of the room and into the next. In his arms he carried a silent GIR with a tape-covered mouth, who looked amused by his new attire.

Out of sight, he climbed down from the ceiling and carried GIR in a head-lock, not trusting to let him go. He decided to wait until the humans in the living room were asleep so not to blow his cover.

The serum might be strong, but it wasn't sure to paralyze the humans straight away. Well, he could find some more humans upstairs who were sound asleep.

He advanced toward the first step and remembered how the stairs squeaked in the basement, so he decided to climb up with his PAK legs – silent but deadlier, like an insidious spider... He could scuttle around the walls of the house, and place spy bugs before he attempted to attack some unsuspecting victim with his syringe.

He crawled to the second level of the house, placing spy bugs into the wall which morphed into the plaster. He made a mental note to place some spy bugs downstairs too.

Just after he installed the last of four cameras, a door opened across the hall, and a tall brawny boy-whom he recalled from the skool-made his way toward the bathroom, and peed into the urinary pot with the door open. Zim stuck out his segmented tongue in disgust.

After he finished, he walked right beneath Zim. The alien's heart beat that bit faster from memories of past beatings at the hands of this boy. He stopped at the top of the stairs, listening to the sounds from down below.

He shook his head and made his way to his room again. But then he ran down the stairs upon hearing an allusive giggle from the female human. GIR couldn't help but feel proud. His singing must have gotten the mood going for them.

Zim released a breath once he vanished from sight, as his face had grown moist with sweat. GIR patted his forehead with a cloth to dry him off. That meant one more human was awake. How was he supposed to do his job now? Never mind, suppose he could just wait until they were all asleep. Maybe, there was another human up here sleeping…

He heard a row break out downstairs, hearing the familiar voice of the boy who taunted him at the skool, and the annoying high-pitched whine of the female. Apparently, the kid punched the boyfriend in a fit of rage. Hopefully, he knocked him out cold, so Zim's job would be a lot easier.

"I want him outta my house; look what he's done to you!"

"It's just a hicky, Torque! You've never given your little girlfriend one, too?"

"No… her dad's a cop… but still, there's a four-year old sleeping upstairs!"

"A four-year old?" Zim said.

He looked at a door with pink flowers adorned across. His mouth crept into an evil sneer as he scuttled to the door that was left ajar...

He couldn't see much, but there was a small lump beneath the quilts rising gently, indicating it was fast asleep. Finally, his first victim of the night...

Zim crawled over to the bed until he was directly above the slumbering child. All he could see was a lock of dark hair across the pillow, and a bunch of creepy stuffed animals with glistening eyes.

He lowered himself from the ceiling, keeping his PAK legs firmly attached to the plaster, while GIR sat on his shoulders. He held a syringe with the gooey white substance, settling his ocular implants on the child's delicate neck.

Without warning, the little human peered up sleepily, and locked her eyes with his. Zim was sure he stopped breathing. He was merely five feet above her now.

She looked up confused at first, but then her brown eyes blurred fearfully, and a small cry escaped her mouth. GIR, oblivious to the awkward moment, waved at her excitedly.

Zim was frozen. He didn't know what move to make next. Kidnap the child now that she had seen him? He watched her cover her face with her quilt, then whisper complete gibberish.

"He's not real; he's just a dream. I'm a big girl…" her small, frightened voice came from beneath the sheets.

Zim decided to slip away since the child was too delirious to make sense of anything. She did mutter something about a dream; he could work with that.

He didn't realise he was sweating once he left the room. Wiping the moist from his forehead, he muttered, "Phew; that was close. The mission was almost comprised, GIR, but never fail to underestimate the babies of this planet! They all have a secret agenda. I just know it."

"Aw, she was cute," GIR's voice muffled through the tape. "Let's be friends…"

Zim was about to protest to the stupid notion of 'friend' until a familiar smell reached his unseen nostrils.

Downstairs, things were being smashed as the family's domestics were still going strong, but that smell… a distant alarm rang inside his head while he tried to remember.

He did know it; there was an Irken equivalent to the substance. He had come into contact with it many times on Irk, especially during Operation Impending Doom I when he caused all those fires…

His heart sank when it hit him. The smell was that of gasoline. Before he could act, a huge explosion erupted downstairs as screaming followed. It didn't take long for the house to be engulfed in flames.

I don't own 'Kiss The Girl' Disney does. I just really like that song.

Please review and give me some feedback, as it will be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading :)