Because I haven't tapped the IZ base yet.
Is there anybody out there that still cares for this amazing show? Regardless, I want to write this; I read something like this a long time ago (like, so many many years ago...). I'll let you know if I remember the book.
"Medication doesn't appear to be effective anymore, such a tragedy."
Dib spared a glance up at the dark haired man in the brown suit, dolled with a matching brown tie, and gold plated sleeve cuffs. It was hardly tragic, whatever moronic idea gave the man the impression that his situation was a 'tragedy' was the result of a failure of a severely overpriced education. Clearly.
"Are you taking the new medication?"
The silence echoed in the awkwardly sterile room. Dib's eyes fell to the dull white jacket constricting his arms around his torso, the only thing he wanted to say was 'ow' at that point.
"You absolutely must take the new medication, Dib. Insanity isn't curable, but it's definitely suppressible, despite the teeny-tiny list of side effects related."
For sure, said the man who failed to have a face. "... It's not helping me."
"Sure it is, you're just being stubborn," the man deadpanned, picking up his extra large takeaway cup of mocha (extra cream) from Suebucks.
Dib never questioned how the man managed to drink, because he knew that the man must have facial features (nose, mouth, eyes and so on), surely. He didn't deny something inside his head had snapped, metaphorically or not. It wasn't so bad, it didn't happen all the time, not exactly, but it did happen pretty regularity; at least twice a day every day. For example... That new kid from last year (the one that disappeared 2 months ago) had a creepishly long tail and horns, the old man in room 4377 had a severe case of haemophilia (most noticeably in his eyes, that kind of never stopped bleeding), he never complained, and just last month his own doctor grew ridiculously long fangs and (headlight like) red eyes before he disappeared too. It was stupid, really.
But the girl down the hall in room 3174 was definitely a werewolf, and a girl.
"Dib," the man licked at the seeping corner of the steaming cup, "how many years has it been now since you were brought here?"
He had been transferred to the Crazy House for Boys when he was 12, in the summer, after the accident, or incident, or whatever they called it in the end. "4 years."
"Yes yes, that was it," the man nodded, and took a large gulp of the steaming coffee.
Dib never liked coffee, he drank it once when he was 10 years old and had to leave skool less than an hour later with... Stomach pains to say the least. He preferred caffeine pills way back then, or a good old juice box, man he'd kill for a juice box about now.
"Would it be fair to say that you still miss your family, Dib?"
He frowned, and stared suspiciously at the man, "of course I do."
Despite his father being the one to sign him up for the mad house, and never encouraged his deepest interests or dreams that existed from before he knew how to walk, and his sister who would rather eat some fast food and play video games than aid her brother in his desperate struggles to protect mankind, or generally not die in the process of his various studies. He still missed them, yeah, most definitely, without doubt, nope, none.
"Hmm... Would you still attempt to convince us that werepigs and merdonkeys exist? Is your perception of reality still crooked and idiotic?"
Dib's brow raised, he even nearly smirked. "Depends what you mean by reality." Besides... Werepigs and merdonkeys were extinct now, he'd checked, that sure was a boring weekend.
"I'm sorry?" The man hummed, settling his cup on the cold metal table.
He sighed, and looked to the mirrored wall to his right. "Doesn't everyone perceive the universe differently? Not everyone has the same reality."
"Oh really, now?"
He was being tested again. His eyes perked back to the man before him, "I'm still crazy, if that's what your asking."
He still saw the world the same way as he did years ago, nothing had changed too badly, he still believed in aliens, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, chupacabras (there were a lot of them). His perception had grown a little... Irregular lately, but being locked in a room within a high security building for 4 years does that to people, you know? It was just difficult to differentiate between his own perception and the validly of it.
"Hmm..." The man hummed, clasping his hands together down the table. "Well, that's good to hear."
Really... Dib rolled his eyes.
"You're probably wondering what an old crook like me is talking about..." The man chuckled horribly. "Well, recently, we've been receiving complaints about how little space there is in this wonderfully sterile establishment, even after the expansion of 46 new floors, so, we decided you, among others, are stable enough to return to society."
Dib gawked at the man, sitting stiller then than he had before. "I'm... Getting out?"
"That's right" the man waved his hand in a cheerful swing before he gave Dib a thumbs up. "However, there are some conditions, of course."
"... In what way have you concluded any patients to suddenly be safe to return to society, I mean, some of us are really screwed up if you hadn't noticed... The spork guy is psychotic, he killed a cafe, no, I mean, he killed everyone in a cafe. with a spork. And then there's-"
"-There are more serious priorities to take into account, I mean, I've only been working here for 2 weeks, but I believe everyone being kicked out is in perfect mental and physical health."
Dib highly doubted that, but he kept quiet, if it meant he was getting out (not that they would listen to his opinions at this point anyway). "What are the conditions?"
The man smiled, and lifted his Suebucks coffee once more for another taste.
He could always follow up an investigation once he was out, maybe.
...
"My Tallests, it's happened again..."
Red turned his head to the voice that interrupted his midday snacking of jellysmeets with Purple. "What's happened again?" He asked one of the small irkens at one of the many monitors spread around the room.
"On Foodcourtia, sir, Zim appears to have escaped again. I've just received a transmission from his warden; Sizz Lorr, he's expressed his-"
"Again?! You mean he's out... Again?!" Purple yelled as he spat out a mouth full of splendidly squished jellies.
Red frowned down at the mess Purple made on the previously clean floor, his antennae flattened against the back of his skull. "Somebody, clean that up."
"Yes, sir, immediately," a small irken (what'shisfaceohIdon'tcare) in the corner of the room dashed along to mop up the splattered jellies.
"Now," Red continued, "let me guess, he's on his way here."
"Sir, I'm afraid... He's already here" the irken lowered his antennae and began to visibly sweat.
"What?! You've got to be kidding me! How could he have gotten here so quickly without us knowing?" Red yelled frantically.
"Yeah!" Purple added, less than sneakily stealing what appeared to be Red's packet of Jellysmeets.
"He's very persistent, sirs."
Red sighed, and clawed his face painfully. "Where is he, exactly..."
After a moment of screen tapping tension, the irken replied. "He's making his way through corridor 67.23IC2014, rather loudly."
Red glanced back at Purple, who hid the snacks behind his back, despite it was far too obvious he was still chewing at them.
"What do you want us to do, sirs? Should we restrain him and send him back to Foodcourtia aga-"
"NO! Not this time," Red growled. After nearly ruining the beginnings of Operation Impending Doom 2 with his loud mouthed annoyance of existence, who could single handedly annihilate their entire civilization armed only with that sick little brain of his, and a less than ordinary sandwich filled with the most plain of ingredients... Off track... He was truly disgusting.
"Huh? What are we gonna do?" Purple asked, swallowing the jellies before he could lose them again. "Are we gonna finally kill him?"
"That's impossible, and you know it. I've got a better idea... Something I should have tried a while ago... You there! Yes, you, get someone to escort him here, and quickly."
...
"It's about time!"
The soldier rolled his eyes as he turned his back to the greatly smaller irken, and continued towards the main command room of the Massive.
"The Tallests must be so pleased with my most recent actions, finally, they can let me get on with my job rather than sending me off to Foodcourtia again..." Zim continued to ramble as the soldier equally continued to deny any acknowledgement of him.
Zim wasn't exactly bothered by this, everyone seemed to ignore him. He didn't really know why to be honest. The only time anyone seemed to pay attention was when he did something they couldn't ignore, like during Operation Impending Doom 1 for example, which could have gone better, but was still amazing in it's own way. They listened then, and they were listening now. Zim couldn't go ignored, no matter what, he needed a statement of some kind. Going ignored was like not existing at all, and that was the greatest most superior load of absolutely atrocious dookie.
"Proceed," the soldier said. "And by Irk, show some sort of restraint."
"I always show respect!" Zim yelled as he passed the soldier (who shook his head in frustration) and through the sliding metal door to the main command room of the Massive. Restraint was absolutely ridiculous! Where would any of them be if they lived by the word restraint... No where, that's where!
"Zim."
He looked up (way up) to his Tallests, who didn't care to move from their spot in the middle of the room. Behind them, Zim noticed, the large window looked out onto the universe (which was so utterly, pathetically destined for doom) was very bright that day, they must have been closer to a sun than he first presumed when he closed in on the Massive.
"My Tallests!" Zim saluted, his tongue stuck out unceasingly to the side. "I'm honored to finally be requested," he dropped the salute and marched closer, passed the line of monitors and technicians "is my place in Operation Impending Doom 2 finalized yet?"
"Finalized..." Tallest Purple huffed, before Tallest Red threw a bag of Jellysmeets at his face (which Zim loved, he really loved snacks).
"Yes, Zim. You're place has been determined in our great galactic conquest," Tallest Red announced, even though OID2 was just about complete. "It has taken us a while, but after a lot of thought and consideration we have decided to grant you a special mission at the edge of our universe. You will infiltrate and collect information about this planet so that we can eventually take over."
"My own planet to invade?" Zim tested with a high tingling of intrigue in his antennae.
Well, that's what invaders usually got, a planet, of their own, to invade. "Yes, Zim, your very own planet, all by yourself, away from here."
"Where exactly is it?" He asked in a low tone, considering the many possibilities of the new world.
"We aren't exactly sure, it's somewhere at the edge somewhere else," the Tallest Red answered without a trace of certainty.
"Does it have a name?" He asked again, while one antennae perked in confusion.
"We don't know it, nope" Tallest Purple replied with haste.
Zim frowned, and looked away in thought. "But then how am I meant to find this retched little planet, my Tallests?"
Tallest Red coughed and turned away to look out the window. "Well, you see Zim. This is why we chose you for this mission. The monstrous little creatures of this planet are so enigmatic and reclusive, we know almost nothing about this planet or it's foolish inhabita-"
"We know more than anyone does!" Tallest Purple added.
Red scowled, before he proceeded, "yes.. More than anyone else in the universe. But we need a superior invader to find this planet and gather information for the Irken Empire. We believe you are this invader, Zim."
A superior invader... ... ...
"Zim?" the Tallest Red asked.
"I think he's gonna kill us... He's just staring..." One of the technicians said under their breath.
"He's not that crazy... He's probably just gonna set us on fire, again," another answered.
"Do you not know what he's capable of?..." They continued to whisper.
Zim's antennae twitched at their comments, and he fought back a growl. He'd heard from pretty much everyone the things he'd done, or the things he might do. It was completely inane. It wasn't like it was his fault that he had outbursts of brilliance and uniqueness that no one else could ever replicate.
"Zim? If you don't respond, we're sending you to Blorch to be savaged by highly aggressive rat people," the Tallest Red stated angrily.
"I thought they're all dead, you know, organic sweep, lots'a death and widespread panic and destruction..." Purple rolled his hand, suggesting a moment of doubt.
"Oh yeah..." Red mumbled back.
He shook his head, "my apologies, my Tallests. I was just planning ahead for this highly sensitive mission. I would hate to disappoint the Empire with poor planning when I destroy this pathetic lump of dirt."
"Great! So you'll leave as soon as possible!"
"Of course, my Tallests," Zim looked around questioningly. "But surely, as I am an invader, I should have a proper ship and equipment for such an important mission."
"Of course you should..." Tallest Red said with almighty disdain.
"What are we gonna do?..." Purple whispered worriedly.
"Don't worry, we have plenty of stuff spare, defective stuff," Red whispered back. "Uh, you there!" He pointed to the janitor from earlier, "take Zim to receive his special equipment..."
The janitor immediately perked with surprise, before his antennae dropped with dread. He then made for direction of the garbage bay without a care to see if Zim followed, which he did after a gleeful salute to his Almighty Tallests.
"... We keep defective stuff around?" Asked Purple in disbelief.
"Yes, and now we have a reason..." He replied, "well, back to galactic conquest and universal enslavement I suppose."