This can only end badly.
Yes, hello, your resident omnipotent voice-in-the-sky here and ready to take the stage with this brand new, hot off the press, Invader Zim dare fic!
No, wait, where are you going? Please, let's be rational here.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "Ugh, not another dare show whipped together by some bonkers fan with way too much time on their hands! These aren't popular anymore for a reason!"
I know, I know, but hear me out. I for sure will do my best to make this experience a unique one, and keep it as open minded as possible, for your enjoyment! If you've stuck around still, my precious reader, I applaud you. Your will and patience is incredible.
But enough blabbering, let's give you what you came here for! Without further ado, I present, Another Gosh Darn Dare Show!
Warning: Will contain strong language, unapologetic character bashing, bad jokes, and heavy amounts of sarcasm.
Side effects may include: loss of appetite, dizziness, dry mouth, hard to reach itches on the back, a porky aftertaste, constant rhyming, taco cravings, and the sudden need to sacrifice non-believers. We know who you are. You cannot hide.
The stage is set. The heavy red curtain slowly parts, rusty and unoiled gears creaking loudly. A single spotlight comes on stage left and illuminates a single person. They have red hair cropped in a boyish cut, and light blue eyes framed by dark bags. The lower part of their face is covered by a surgeon mask, hiding their features. This unconventional manner of dress renders their gender a mystery.
"Hello everyone, I am your esteemed host, who was definitely not blackmailed into this at all. The exalted Creator needed someone who wouldn't have any character favoritism and I'm the only one who showed up to the auditions not wearings a Team Zim or Team Dib shirt. That's because I was the intern. Anyways, you may call me Z." Z clears their throat and straightens the note cards in their hands.
"Tonight is the opening night of a brand new dare show, blah blah blah Invader Zim, blah blah, we don't own any of these characters, blah blah. You know the drill. Now, without further ado, let's introduce our victims- I mean contestants."
Loud, cheerful band music suddenly fills the hall. Z waves their hands frantically, "Enough with that racket! I told you it was a no go!" The stage returns to silence once more. Z sighs deeply and the threat of that picture leaking to the Internet prevents them from committing homicide.
Z clears their throat and the lights on stage come on, illuminating the whole area. "Our first guest, your favorite, I'm assuming, Invader Zim!"
The sound of distant screaming fills the stage, growing gradually louder and clearer, until a blur of green falls from the ceiling and collides with the stage.
"Ouch. How're you feeling, Zim?"
The Irken stands with the grace of a drunk meerkat. He blinks bulbous red eyes against the harsh glare of the stage lights, and stands there, dumbstruck. Someone coughs in the awkward silence, and it sets him off.
"WHERE AM I? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS THIS FILTHY PLACE? YOU MUST TELL ZIM IMMEDIATELY OR FACE MY WRATH!"
"You're on a stage, at a dare show, I'm your host Z, and don't insult our cleanliness or Stevie will vaporize you." Z says, "Now if that's all, I'd like to get the ball rolling-"
"Who is this Stevie you speak of?!"
Z sighs. "Our janitor. Don't get on his bad side. Now please-"
"YOU'RE LYI-" Sadly, Zim doesn't get to finish as Z has taped his mouth shut.
"Much better. Be a good alien and I might take it back off." It's then that Zim notices his lack of a disguise and his panicked screams are muffled behind four layers of duct tape.
"Next up, your other favorite, possibly, Dib!"
As Zim claws at his heavy duty gag, he fails to notice the shape hurtling towards him. Dib, screaming the whole way down, falls from the ceiling and collides with the unsuspecting Irken.
"Perhaps we should include parachutes," Z says, but the two victims are too busy trying to kill each other to hear. "Enough, you scoundrels!" Z shouts, and the two stop and retreat to opposite ends of the stage where they glare angrily at each other.
"By the way, your head is enormous, Dib." Z says, matter-of-factly.
"Hey, my head isn't big!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that. Next, Gaz!"
For some reason, Gaz enters through a trapdoor below stage, completely immersed in her Game Slave. "Glad to have you, Gaz! Any words for the audience?"
Gaz doesn't look up from her Game Slave, but growls menacingly. Z shrinks back and let's her be.
"Completely understandable. Next up, deep inferiority issues and vengeance bottled into a tiny body, Tak!"
Tak ascends in a manner similar to Gaz, except she immediately leaps forward and attempts to strangle Zim, whose pleads for mercy are muffled by duct tape. The female Irken is eventually removed and restrained with a much thicker layer of the magic silver adhesive.
"Always keep duct tape on hand, kids, you never know when you may need it," says Z wisely as they twirl a roll of duct tape around their finger. "Please rise for your Almighty Tallest!"
Zim and Tak- as best as she could when restrained by duct tape- snap into a salute and the crowd cheers as the two Irken leaders waltz in, waving. One poor sucker in the audience boos, and he is immediately vaporized. Red blows smoke from the tip of his laser gun.
Z whistles lowly. "Damn. Can I get one of those?" Red grins smugly, then finally notices Zim, who looks about ready to pass out from the sheer might of his fanboying. Purple laughs as Zim's fevered praises are muffled behind duct tape.
Z turns back to the audience, and in one enormous breath they say, "And that's it for our cast folks submit your dares and truths and goodnight-"
"WAAAAAAAAAIT!"
Z pales as a small robot sprints on stage and attaches firmly to their leg. Z sighs. "Hello, Gir, so glad you could make it."
"I brought the chicken wiiiiings!"
"Where did you put them this time?"
"I don't know!"
"Oh no. Anyway, the best for last," Gir gives a high pitched squeal and gnaws on the curtain. "Gir."
Z shakes their head. "That's all we have today. Submit your truths and dares, and watch the magic happen."
Thunder rolls overhead, and a flash of lightning illuminates the stage. Z squints upwards. "What? Am I forgetting something? I read the stupid f*cking cards now let me go home before I miss the next episode of CSI."
The thunder booms again. "Oh, yeah. Okay, fine. Then I'm going home."
The weather suddenly clears and Z clears their throat, then whips out a sheet of paper from nowhere. "Almost forgot the most important part, rules!" The audience groans collectively. "Oh, shut up, you big babies. It's a necessity, this place needs order!"
"Hey, don't we set the rules here?" Purple snaps, walking towards Z and reaching for the paper. A flash of lightning hits the spot right in front of him and he squeals and jumps into Red's arms. The other leader looks annoyed and probably in need of an aspirin.
"Anyway. Here are the rules:
Truths/Dares must be rated PG-13. This is a kids' show, and we're already pushing it by allowing the host to swear, even if it will be censored.
We will not, under any circumstances, bring in your lame OC as a co-host. Sorry.
Speaking of lame OCs, only one guest appearance will be allowed each chapter/episode/whatever. First come, first serve.
Canon shipping is welcomed, but OC shipping is limited. Remember, we will only have one guest appearance, so chose wisely.
DO. NOT. QUESTION. Z'S. GENDER.
Refer to rule five. You must be burning with curiosity, but trust me. It's best if you don't know.
No more than 5 dares/truths per person, we don't want to be here all day.
"Hey, you're Z, right?" Z looks down in surprise as Dib squints up at them. The audience falls quiet in sick anticipation, breaths held as they wonder if Dib will be the first soul to break one of the most sacred rules. "Are you a boy, or a girl?"
The audience releases a collective sigh of pity for that poor boy's tortured soul. Z stares blankly at Dib, who grows more and more uncomfortable. "Foolish boy," Z hisses in a demonic voice. "You did not follow the rules."
Then Z whips out a small remote with a huge red button, and presses it. Dib disappears through a trapdoor, his screams abruptly cut off as the trapdoor closes again. Z turns away and the rest of the cast, sans Gaz who snickers quietly, stares in fear at the spot Dib used to occupy.
Z snaps out of their trance and waves to the audience. "This is Another Gosh Darn Dare Show and I am your host, who desperately needs a raise, Z. Later."
Hopefully this will get better. Only time will tell.