Note: A huge round of applause to CJBTDI, who came up with the idea and basic story structure for this fic. Also, this is my 30th fic! Woot!
Singing doom's fun. Fun fun fun doom doom. Oh, whassat? Heehee, planetearth is a funny name. Focus! Everything's red. Then blue. Red's no fun. Makes me think of th' big scary red Irken.
Master wants me to look. I see lots. I sees funny lookin' pink things, funny buildings… SQUIRREL! Awww, he's cute. Master wanna know what I see'd, so I shows him squirrel. He looks confused. That's funny.
Master goes into round machine. Then he's gone! Someone new… who? Where's Master? Where'd he go? Oh… Master just look new. Same Master. Same grumpy. Says I should be a dog.
Dog… doggy… Master puts me in th' round machine. Light everywhere… doggy… doggy…
Krull…
What's a Krull?
I's green and black. Doggy. Good doggy, I be good. Good for Master.
………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Gently… gently… just a little more pressure… Zim hunched over his latest plan for world domination, gingerly prodding the last few parts into place…
"HI MASTER!!!"
Zim screamed, jerking back from the metallic face shoved into his view.
"GIR!" Zim shook his fist at the offending android. "I'm working with extremely sensitive material! You can't just… what is THAT?"
"It's a chicken!" GIR giggled, waving his rather perturbed prize by the neck. "You gots chickens in tubes, gotcha more chickens! CHICKENS TASTE GOOOOOOD!"
Glancing around, Zim realized his floor was covered with clucking hens. His eye twitched as GIR leaped cannon-ball style into the sea of feathers. The clucking became distressed squawking as the poor creatures ran from the terror that had brought them there. Zim's focus narrowed on the small patch of floor he could see. He leaped up onto a chair and screamed, "COMPUTER! EMPTY THE BUILDING OF THESE FEATHERED BEAST MONSTERS!"
A suction tube dropped from the ceiling, vacuuming up the hens one by one and depositing them on the front lawn. Once the last of them had been evicted, Zim grabbed his antennae and began to shriek.
"WHAT IS THIS? WHAT IS THIS ON MY BEAUTIFUL BASE FLOOR?? WHAT IS THIS WHITE AND GRAY FILTH?"
According to preliminary scans, it is defecation of the creature known as gallus domesticus.
"THERE IS CHICKEN DOOKY ON MY FLOOR? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GERMS THERE ARE IN CHICKEN DOOKY??? GIR!"
"Yes, my Master!" The robot saluted him from his upside down position.
"CLEAN UP THE DOOKY AND STERILIZE THE FLOOR!"
Master, I hate to interrupt your nervous breakdown, but your decibel level is causing irreparable damage to your project.
"SILENCE! I DID NOT ASK YOU FOR YOUR OPINIONS ON MY PROJECT! MY… oh flirk…"
Zim whirled back to his project, now smoking and sparking in three pieces on his work station. Gritting his teeth, he glared at GIR out of the corner of his eye. This was all GIR's fault, it always was. Except when it was the Dib's fault, but it wasn't this time. Dib could be destroyed, but GIR had to be fixed. Enough was enough. The Tallests had obviously handed him a challenge to prove his superiority with tools and technology, and he was going to surpass their expectations if it killed him.
He paused. It nearly had once. His last attempt to "fix" GIR had sent the robot on a mad spree of destruction in an attempt to garner knowledge. GIR had then turned on him, suggesting that he, Zim, was the cause of all their failures, and attempted to eliminate him.
But this time would be different. He knew what to watch for this time, he knew he would have to take GIR's danger levels into account. World domination would have to wait. His glare deepened as he watched the SIR scoop the dooky into a ball and throw it at the wall. He had a more vital project this time. Once GIR normalized, Zim could finally overthrow the planet without anymore problematic interruptions. Yes, the first step toward any project was eliminating distractions.
Turning back to his work station, Zim began assembling the parts he needed, and placed orders for codes and programs over the Irken Information Network.
A ball of dooky hit him in the back of the head. Forcing himself to stay calm, he reached for the cleansing chalk. It was going to be a very, very long day.
