Dib had had enough.
He had endured enough of Zim's increasingly dangerous and erratic and stupid plans. Zim had tried to murder him over and over. He'd tried to kill his classmates. He had tried to torture him. He had contiunously tried to enslave and blow up his home planet.
It was time Zim got to experience what it felt like.
And so...Dib came up with a simple enough plan.
Every single day, he'd ask Zim a different question, all under a simple guise. Wanting to ask how much better Irk was than Earth.
"So we have these city halls. But I suppose Irk's are so much better?"
"HA! We have Grand Stations that connect to all the power nodes of Irk! Your city halls cannot even handle organizing the mail!"
"...those are...post offices."
"YOU LIE!"
Bit by bit...learning what he needed to.
"So you do the...test tube method, is that it? I imagine Irk must be BURSTING with proud alien babies!"
"Oh, SO much more than you stupid humans. There's a host of smeeteries in the west wing of Irk's capital, largest building in the warehouse district and FAR larger than any stupid hospital!"
Slowly but surely, he was understanding more of what he needed to.
"And your species never...had...water?"
"No, we haven't. OUR atmosphere's made out of a rich carbon-nitrogen blend far different than your own! We don't even have the materials for rain! Our clouds would never "rain" in a million years, we haven't the chemicals for it. The FILTHY Earth chemicals."
"Yes, very filthy."
Bit by bit, Dib took notes. And within the span of just half a year, he'd learned everything he needed, and was soon ready. And Zim...would help him. It was simple, really.
"So these..."fireworks". They're...impressive to your people?" Zim inquired, looking the large rockets over as Dib nonchalantly put the finishing touches on them, the glasses-wearing, black-haired youth nodding a bit as the green-skinned, red-eyed alien peered darkly from behind his fake contacts.
"Oh, everyone LOVES fireworks. Big and sparkly and all explod-y. Does your race not have them?"
"We launch rockets at PEOPLE, not the sky. Unless it's to bomb more people far away. Still, those designs look...interesting. They're going to spell our your name?"
"Yes, and YOU can't have them." Dib said deliberately, sticking his tongue out at Zim. "Neener, neener, neener." It made Zim glower darkly, his green face flush with blue blush as Dib's jacketed form swept inside his house...and he held up his watch, waiting.
"What ARE you doing?" Gaz asked angrily, frowning at him as Dib looked at his watch.
"I give him...five minutes." Dib said before loud grunting sounds echoed through the backyard and he turned to peek briefly out the window. Sure enough, Zim was stealing the fireworks rockets Dib had set up, and he smirked darkly, making his way over to the fridge. "I knew it."
"What is HE doing?" Gaz asked, the purple-haired girl growling a bit as she tilted her head to the side, staring out the window herself for a moment before going back to munching away at her hot dogs.
"He's stealing rockets to spell out his name, I imagine. That's what he'll TRY to do, anyway. He wants something big and fancy to show off for the big inspection ceremony on Irk within a week. He probably thinks that launching a big fireworks display to show how amazing he is will impress everyone." Dib commented calmly. "...I didn't tell him the ACTUAL payload of the rockets, though."
"What? Nuclear waste?"
Dib began to snigger madly, Gaz looking...unnaturally worried. "You have a freakish laugh." She realized aloud, her face becoming pale. "I don't like you laughing! Stop it!"
...
...
...
...Well. He stopped. But it wouldn't be long before he was starting it up again as he calmly waited in his room, looking down at a magazine, and humming to himself. Zim had already gone off for Irk, and he could already picture what was about to happen, and it brought a big smile to his face as he looked up at the computer. He was expecting a call any moment now. He'd deliberately let Zim learn his email address to "Skip" him, and call him-
And there it was! That lovely beeping sound indicating that he was calling. Dib calmly composed himself, taking in a deep breath, and sitting down in the plush leather chair in front of his desk, facing the computer.
"Why, Zim! To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Zim screeched out in raw fury, his eyes bulging wide, one eyeball missing, half his skin sloughed off, antannae drooping down halfway over his face as he howled. "WHAT! HAVE YOU DONE?!" He roared out, dark orange skies behind him, with oddly foul, purplish/red clouds, and the unmistakable endless rumbling getting closer and closer. The rumbling...
Of rain.
"Well, you see Zim, there's this practice called "cloud seeding". It's when you fire chemicals into a cloud to seed them for rain. You fire chemicals like silver iodide or salt or the like and it induces freezing nucleation. It makes clouds produce...rain!" Dib said cheerily. "It's really very fascinating. Wasn't too hard to get the chemicals, my dad IS a scientist. Brings that kind of stuff home all the time. I've been breaking into his chemical cabinet since I was 3."
"MY TALLEST MELTED!" Zim screamed angrily, as the screaming of the dead and dying echoed behind him.
"Yes, I imagine they would. You firing the rockets off when you were sure everyone was watching so they could soak in how great you are..." Dib remarked nonchalantly, Zim quivering and shaking with raw fury as the human went on. "I wasn't sure EXACTLY what chemicals woudl do it, so I had every two rockets have a different seeding chemical. Which ones worked?"
"ALL OF THEM!"
"Wow. You must be getting a TON of rain."
"THE ENTIRE STADIUM FLOODED!" Zim roared as he shook the computer screen he was broadcasting from inside of a schloorg-dog diner, one of the few buildings that hadn't yet been destroyed by the rampant flooding that was now surging through the capital city of Irk, as slowly dissolving bodies were swept along in the dark tide, and, unfortunately, rusted robots and security drones fell from the skies and metal ramparts into the dark depths below. The Irken race had never seen fit to rust-proof their many, MANY robotic servants since, after all...they'd never really encountered water.
"I imagine you didn't bother to bathe in glue. After all, you were going to be away at Irk, there'd be no need for it. How'd you get away?" Dib wanted to know, Zim shaking furiously, his one good eye bulging.
"I...used...Skutch's head...as a shield."
"Clearly didn't last long."
"His head wasn't very big!" Zim yelled. "Not like YOURS!"
"MY HEAD'S NOT-" Dib began to say before he recomposed himself, taking in a long, deep breath and then steepling his hands. "So! I imagine you want to rush on back to Earth to kick my ass!"
"MY SHIP IS RUSTED OVER!"
"I imagine they ALL are. How many feet of water is your city buried under? 10? 20?"
"I'm going to DISSOOOOOLVE you!" Zim roared out, shaking the screen even more furiously as Dib smirked a bit, seeing the doors to the diner were already beginning to give way.
"Actually, Zim...I think it's ME who's going to end up dissolving you." He commented calmly, the transmission ended as the glass doors broke open, and water flooded in, Zim being caught off guard and slipping off the desk he'd been sitting on, down into the depths below as Dib turned "Skip" off, and turned around, seeing Gaz standing there in the doorway.
"...you just...decimated his species."
"And that's different from what he was going to do to mine...howwww?" Dib asked. "What did you EXPECT me to do? They're all alien monsters who worship tallness and blowing things up, and Zim's idea of a good time was doing horrible brain experiments to 8 year olds! I wasn't just gonna keep letting them get away with it."
"I just can't believe you actually did it. That was diabolical, sinister, and fiendishly clever." Gaz murmured, her eyes slowly widening. "...could it be you're not actually such a total pussy after all?"
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Dib admitted, looking rather surprised, mouth agape as Gaz shrugged.
"Did he leave GIR behind?"
"Yes, why?"
"I'd like someone to eat the neighbor's dog if they get too yappy."
"...I'll get him to do it if you agree to stop beating me up for taking the last soda?"
"Deal."
You may find this sort of story...rather harsh.
Well, it should be. Because I've seen story after story in which Zim gets away with atrocity after atrocity towards Earth. I thought it was time the tables got turned.
For once.