(A/N: I realize it's a bit odd to think of Zim getting mail, considering he pretty much has no address, but he's gotten phone calls in the show, so if he has a phone number, him getting mail makes jUST AS MUCH SENSE)
As he did every Sunday, Zim was experimenting on Nick E. Lodeon, his human test subject, down in his lab.
"Okay, Nick. Are you ready to feel happier than EVER BEFORE?!"
Nick pulsated with glee. "I love joy! I don't know how life could get more wonderful!"
Zim was about to inject more happiness into Nick when he heard the alarm system go off.
"INTRUDER ALERT!" blared Computer. "That big-headed human is rummaging through the garbage again!"
"Dib!" Zim dropped the syringe and hurried to the elevator.
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"Is mail really all that's in here this time...?" Dib muttered to himself.
"HEY!" Zim interrupted. "What are you doing?!"
"Rummaging through the garbage in hopes of finding proof that you're an alien," Dib replied, not even looking up.
"Well...stop that!"
"Ugh. There's nothing but mail in here, anyway." Dib knocked the trash can over, and the mail came spilling out. "You realize you're actually supposed to READ mail, right? Not just throw it away?"
Zim snatched up an envelope. "I know that!"
Dib brushed himself off of and stood to leave. "Well, that was more disappointing than usual."
"...OH, I'M SO SORRY MY TRASH DIDN'T MEET YOUR STANDARDS!" Zim yelled after the retreating Dib.
As he stomped inside and slammed the door, he turned his attention to the envelope in his hand.
"...I'm being summoned...?"
This envelope requested that Zim fulfill "jury duty". He'd never heard of it before, so he checked it out on his computer to ensure it wasn't a trap or anything.
"Zim has no obligation of duty to this jury!" the alien proclaimed after reading all about it. "Well, these requests will line GIR's litterbox quite nicely..."
"Uh, I'd advise against that, Master," Compuer spoke up. "Earth citizens are penalized for not doing their duty."
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"Um...death penalty?" guessed Computer.
Zim gasped. "This law system is more corrupt than I thought! And the case is today! I'll have to put everything else off until I get back..."
"Can I come?" Skoodge popped out of nowhere, interrupting Zim's thoughts. "Please! I literally have NOTHING to do!"
"Literally, eh?...I don't see why not! Here, put these on!" Zim handed Skoodge a pair of Groucho Marx glasses and a curly wig.
Skoodge put them on. "I feel important! So, where are we headed?"
"The..." Zim glanced back at the letter. "Courthouse on 69th street! Let's go!"
"Whoo!"
Zim got his old man disguise on and he and Skoodge piled into the elevator, leaving Nick there strapped to the table, staring intensely at that syringe Zim had dropped...
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"Wow, we got here fast!" Skoodge pointed out.
"Yes, that's the beauty of scene transitions, Skoodge," Zim explained. "Now let's hurry inside. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to my completely necessary experiment."
"Right."
After entering the courthouse, Zim and Skoodge were placed in separate rooms to be interviewed and see if they were fit to be jurors.
"So, is this your first time serving on a jury?" the interviewer asked Zim.
"Yes, and I plan on it being my last," Zim said absentmindedly.
The interviewer wrote something down on his clipboard, which Zim took notice of.
"Hey...what are you writing there? Are you studying me?!" He was ignored.
"Okay, why did you decide to come in here today?"
"You summoned me!"
The interviewer started to write again, and Zim shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Age, sir?"
"Uh..." Zim tried to come up with something normal. "35?"
The interviewer wrote...and wrote...and wrote...Zim couldn't stand it. What could he possibly be writing?!
"...alright, that's it!" Zim hopped off of the stool and snatched the clipboard & pencil away. "From now on, this is MY interview, and Zim shall write things down about YOU, human!"
The interviewer (now interviewee) shrugged, really not caring.
"Now why have you called me here?" Zim said it like more of a demand than a question.
"The community wants your help in deciding a case, sir."
"Explain."
"Well, there's about to be a trial held in the courtroom. And the jurors band together to decide what happens to the defendant."
"Me? You mean...I get to decide the fate of a human? Whatever I say is what happens to them?!"
"...I guess so, if you look at it that way. I mean...yes?"
"Oh, yesss," A wide smile grew across Zim's face. He forgot all about the notes. "What has this human worm done? DID they do anything? OR were they framed? Was there any murder involved?"
"I dunno..."
Zim hastily scribbled 'I dunno' as best he could. Then he handed the clipboard, which was now covered in Irken lettering, back to the half-asleep interviewee.
"Congratulations, Earthling, you have proven yourself more than qualified to serve on the jury, now if you excuse me, I have a 'defend aunt' to dispose of."
With that, Zim left the room. In the large hallway on the way to the courtroom, he met back up with Skoodge.
"Did you hear? We get decide to decide the fate of a human!"
Skoodge nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. You know, these Earthen guys aren't as bad as I thought they'd be. Way nicer than the slaughtering rat people on Blorch, anyway."
"Don't take pity on them now, Skoodge! You haven't seen how truly horrible they are!"
"Okay, Zim, okay."
Finally, the two reached the huge courtroom, and followed the crowd to the jury seats, where they sat next to each other. It wasn't long before the defendant, the plaintiff, and their respective attirneys showed up.
"The trial begins now," announced the bailiff.
"It's about time!" Zim said in relief. The other jurors shushed him, which Zim responded to with only a confused look.
"...the honorable Judge Krakenoff presiding," the bailiff finished.
"Judge WHAT?" uttered Zim. He got shushed again.
The 70-something-year old female judge took her seat above everyone, eyes scraping across the jury. She held her reading glasses in place as she banged the gavel.
"Let the trial...COMMENCE!"
"OH!" Zim winced at the shrillness of her voice. "She sounds awful!"
"SHHH!" went the jury a third time.
"SHUSH!" Zim snapped back at them.
But luckily for him, the judge didn't do much talking after that. And though Zim found it difficult to follow, he could determine that the plaintiff used to live with the defendant, and when the two got into an argument over the rent, the plaintiff left, and the defendant refused to return several of the plaintiff's items that were still in the apartment, so the plaintiff decided to sue.
"Mmhm. Mm-HM. Okay, I've heard enough!" Zim spoke up, stroking his fake beard. "Personally, everything in MY home belongs to ME, so believe that since the plaintiff-human no longer resides within the apartment, then the defendant-human gets to keep his stuff, and the plaintiff-human shall suffer a thousand leeches to the brain! So speaketh I, ZIM THE JUROR!"
Everyone stared at Zim like he was an alien.
"...what? Is there something in my beard hair?"
"Looks fine to me," murmured Skoodge.
Judge Krakenoff slammed her gavel. "ORDER! ORDER IN THE COURT! Let us hear statements from the attorneys!"
Zim crossed his arms defiantly, but still quieted down. (Well, quiet by Zim standards) "I don't like her. She's running this trial all wrong!"
"So what are you gonna do?" asked Skoodge. "If this keeps up, no one'll suffer like you wanted."
"Hmm. I have a plan. We just have to wait for the humans to go to recess or lunch or something."
As if on cue, a recess was announced and the people in the courtroom dispersed.
"Ah! Perfect timing! Follow me, Skoodge!"
"Yay, I'm useful!"
Zim and Skoodge scurried off to try to find the attorney for that plaintiff guy. Zim planned to knock him out and steal his clothes so he could pretend to be him and cause the plaintiff the leechy suffering Zim felt he deserved!
"There he is!" Skoodge spotted him on his way into the bathroom.
"Good work, Skoodge! Come on, let's get him!" Zim tugged Skoodge along and kicked the bathroom door open. "FREEZE, HUM- -AAAGH! WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!"
"OH, GEEZ!" screamed Skoodge. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT...THING BETWEEN YOUR LEGS?!"
The attorney shrugged in agitation and continued peeing as Zim and Skoodge went on freaking out at the sight of a human wiener.
When he had finished, he washed his hands, pushed past the two and began making his way back to the courtroom.
Zim shuddered before recollecting himself. "Okay, that didn't go exactly as planned. Skoodge, pass me that garbage disposal unit."
"You mean this trash can?"
"Gimme!" Zim snatched it up and launched it right at the head of the retreating attorney, knocking him out instantly.
He held the restroom door open. "Quickly! Get him in here before anyone sees!"
Skoodge grabbed the man by the ankles and dragged him back into the bathroom. Soon, he and Zim had undressed him.
"Here, Skoodge, let me stand on your head!"
"Yow."
Skoodge then donned the pants and shoes. Zim removed his hat and beard, and mussed his wig up bit to resemble the attorney's hair more closely. Then he slipped on the dress shirt, tie and coat (he had to roll the big sleeves up quite a bit just for his hands to be visible). Last, he adorned the half-moon glasses by sticking the earpieces into his wig. He gazed at himself in the mirror.
"How do I look?"
Skoodge unzipped the fly of the pants so he could peek out. "Manly. How about me?"
"Uh...pantsly," Zim replied. "We are ready!"
"Oh. But what about that gross sausage thing? Don't we need that? They might be able to tell we're not him if we don't have a gross sausage thing."
"Eh, oh, yeah. Good thinking, Skoodge. Head for the cafeteria, and we shall acquire a hot dog! On this planet, they call sausages 'hot dogs' sometimes. Weird, I know!"
Skoodge grinned and began trudging towards the mess hall. "You know, Zim? You've been really nice to me today. Are we friends now?"
"Have I?" Zim reddened momentarily. "Just do what I tell you to, Skoodge. Ugh..."
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"Uhh, Mr. Goldberg? Do you need a bathroom break...? ...Mr. Goldberg?"
Zim snapped to attention. "Oh, is that me? I mean, AHEM! No, thank you, I went during recess! With my completely REAL and HUMAN gross hot dog thing."
"I have my doubts about that..." murmured Judge Krakenoff, eyeing the distractingly defined jut in the attorney's pants. "Well, you also look a bit green! And has your voice changed?"
"It's a skin condition. And a...voice condition. Enough about my body!" declared Zim, his eye twitching slightly. "Proceed with the trial, foul-voiced human judge! I mean, your honor."
The judge banged her gavel. "On with the trial!"
Zim cleared his throat. "Judge, this 'plaintiff' is, without a shadow of a doubt, GUILTY! Does no one agree?"
"WHAT?!" cried the plaintiff. "Hey, you're supposed to be on my side!"
"SILENCE! Uh, I mean, OBJECTION!" snapped Zim, awkwardly whirling around. "Please, your honor, he must suffer! You see, this human man is no longer a resident of the apartment! Besides, in his time there, he was QUITE abusive towards this 'defendant', as evidenced by these completely REAL photographs!"
Zim uttered a "thanks, Skoodge" and tugged some crayon drawings out of his pants. A "no problem" was heard from his fly.
The pictures were passed up from Zim's pants to Zim to the bailiff to Judge Krakenoff.
"Oh, my..." she adjusted her reading glasses. The drawings were of the plaintiff doing awful things to the plaintiff like punching him, spanking him and making him look at his gross sausage thing. "This is some incriminating evidence!"
"We plead guilty, your honor!" announced Zim.
"But! I never did those things...!" breathed the plaintiff.
Krakenoff ignored him. "Defendant! What do you have to say about this?"
"...it was AWFUL!" the defendant played along. "He terrorized the apartment! Oh, sometimes he made me stare at his wiener for HOURS on end!"
"For shame!" Zim wagged his finger around in his huge sleeve.
"Well, honestly, I'm stumped," the judge scratched her head. "Defendant, you don't have many legit complaints, but plaintiff, you're a butthole. The jury can't reach a verdict what with all this! Case dismissed until further notice!" The gavel was banged once more and Judge Krakenoff turned to leave. "Now if only I could find the scallywag who took the frankfurter from my lunchbox..."
"Dismissed?!" cried Zim. "Do not dismiss Zim! YOU SMELLY!"
"Zim, calm down...!" Skoodge warned him.
But it was too late; Zim fell off of Skoodge's head and the two Irkens collapsed in an avalanche of man clothes. The sausage splatted onto the floor.
"My weenie!" gasped the judge. "Also, IMPOSTER! TEAR THEM APART, PEOPLE!"
The jurors, the bailiff, everyone threw themselves at Zim and Skoodge, who instantly got up and ran for their lives.
They just barely evaded the angry mob; they managed to get away from them by cutting through the busy city streets, and after about 20 minutes of chasing, they were safely out of sight.
Exhausted, the two finally returned to the base. They rode the elevator down into the lab together.
Skoodge removed his Groucho stuff. "Well! I had fun."
"I DIDN'T!" pouted Zim. "I didn't get to see any humans suffer! And I left my hat and my beard in that bathroom! AND I saw that human's revolting hot dog...wiener...sausage...whichever...RRGH! I HATE HUMANS!"
"Aw, but at least we bonded, right?" Skoodge held Zim close. "And you got some free glasses!"
"Don't touch me."
Suddenly, the duo was surprised by a noise that sounded purely inhuman. Sort of like...a Pegasus choking on glitter and Skittles.
They identified the source of that noise when the elevator reached the lab.
"NICK!" Zim's eyes widened. "What have you done?!"
Nick was speeding around the lab, having somehow espaced the restraints of that table Zim left him on.
"Oh, HIYA, ZIM BUDDY!" he screeched joyfully. "SO GOOD TO SEE YA! After you left I picked up the needle you dropped and I wanted to be nice and finish your experiment for ya, so I just kept poking myself with it over and over and over and over AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, and every time I did I just got happier and HAPPIER! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE THIS WORLD! I'D HUG LOVE IF ONLY IT WERE TANGIBLE! You want a poke, Zim?! Huh huh huh HUHHH?!"
Nick was speaking too quickly for Zim to comprehend most of what he said, so he only began panicking when he rushed toward him, holding up the needle.
"AHHH! Skoodge, defend me!"
"YOU defend you, I'm running for my life!"
"YOU TRAITOR!"
Nick continued chasing them around with the syringe, and there was a lot of screaming. So much screaming.
The end!
(A/N: Wow. That's the end? I can't believe I finally finished this!
Well, I dunno what else to say right now besides the usual; please review and fave this story if you liked it, and check out more of my stories on my profile! Please point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you spot!
Au revoir!)