The Zimventures #1

Angel and the Rinkan Stone of Doom

Chapter 1

A Rude Awakening

The key was exactly where Fitz had said it was. Brandon bent over and took it from under the flower pot and let himself in through the front door. He made sure not to rattle the door knob as he slipped inside and gently set his duffel bag down. Quietly he tiptoed over to Zim's bedroom door and put his ear up to it. The only sound from within was a soft snoring sound. Good.

Brandon removed his coat, revealing army fatigues, but instead of boots he wore a pair of flippers. He then reached into the bag and extracted a pair of goggles, complete with a snorkel. He put this on, but he turned the mouthpiece away from him. Next he put a fake set of fangs into his mouth, around which he squeezed out some fake blood from a tube. When he had enough on his face he put on his Freddy Krueger glove and picked up the bullhorn. He clipped the final piece of his ensemble to his belt, and he was ready.

First he opened the door just a crack, as Fitz would probably frown upon property damage, even in the name of screwing with Zim. Then he kicked the door aside and screeched into the bullhorn: "ZIM! WAKE UP!"

The sleeping form on the bed jerked, and Zim's head shot up. His hair stuck up as if he'd put his finger in an electrical socket. His eyes were wide, and a tremendous fart roared out of him. "What the fuck?!" he yelled.

Brandon hissed at him, baring his fangs. Into the bullhorn he shouted, "IT'S NOON ON A WEEKDAY, AND YOU'RE NOT UP! I THOUGHT I'D DO MY GOOD DEED FOR THE DAY BY WAKING YOU UP!"

Zim rubbed at his eyes. "Dude, that's not funny."

Brandon lashed out with the Freddy glove, raking the plastic blades across Zim's chest. Zim screamed, but when he realized the knives were fake, he sighed. "Jesus, Brandon. I went to bed at three o'clock, all right?"

This time, Brandon did not shout. "THAT MEANS YOU'VE GOTTEN NINE HOURS OF SLEEP."

"And I have a headache."

Brandon did the Fitz-Whistle into the bullhorn, and the sound was loud and shrill enough to cause feedback. Zim howled and covered his ears. "Stop!"

Brandon laughed and put down the bullhorn. "Hey, you got off easy, dude. I was going to use this to wake you up, but I decided not to." He removed the thing from his belt and showed it to Zim.

"Is that a cattle prod?" Zim asked.

"Yep." And Brandon jabbed it into Zim's stomach.

Zim screamed and jumped out of bed, hitting his head on the wall. He rolled around for a while, holding his stomach and shaking.

Brandon couldn't stop laughing. Finally he said, "Holy shit, Zim! That was awesome!"

Zim didn't bother to get up. "You dick! You shot me with electricity!"

Brandon rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. I didn't even turn it on."

"Bullshit! I felt it!"

Brandon gingerly touched the tip of the cattle prod, but there was no shock. "It's all in your head, dude. See?"

He jumped across the bed to jam the prod at Zim again. Zim screamed and dodged the attempt. For the next half-minute Zim ran around the room, and Brandon followed, the prod out in front of him like a proboscis, doing the Fitz-Whistle the whole time. Finally, after several seconds of pursuit, Zim tripped and fell onto his bed. Brandon touched him several times with the cattle prod. "See? It's not on. It's not even charged up."

"Don't mess with me! I have delicate skin, and this headache is killing me! Leave me alone!"

"I gotta go to the gym, anyway," Brandon said. "Sleep tight."

"Fuck you."

Brandon offered a final Fitz-Whistle as he closed Zim's door behind him. On his way out of the apartment complex he did not notice the shadowy form peering through Zim's bedroom window.

Neither did Zim. He was too busy going back to sleep.