A/N: Here I am, back a little earlier than I'd first projected. This is mostly because I'm bored, messages have stopped pouring in, and I don't want to post chapters late in the evening (my story-writing time).
This chapter is almost a thousand words longer than my previous one, mostly because I'm introducing a new literary device here. I've never tried it before, but I'm p[retty excited about using it. What is it, you ask? I think you'll know it when you see it.
Chapter 2: Reaching New Heights
"All right, GIR! Ready the immersion tank for imminent… immersion!"
"Okey-dokey!" GIR did as he was told and began pulling levers at random on a large console, pretending to be doing something productive. This was the beginning of what was sure to be Zim's greatest plan ever.
Zim had possessed an immersion tank—a large cylinder made of a purple metal alloy produced by an Irken-owned manufacturing planet—in the back of his science bay for quite some time, but he'd never found a proper way to use it. At one point, he'd even considered converting it into the universe's biggest paperweight, but he'd eventually laid that idea to rest. Now, he was glad that he had.
Zim had spent the better part of the afternoon visiting the homes of young adolescent children, collecting hormone samples under the pretense of "medical purposes." In reality, Zim had been harvesting growth hormones in order to dump them into his immersion tank. Now, with the fall of night, Zim was finally ready to enact the first phase of his masterful plan to annihilate Dib. This was also the only phase he'd bothered to work out yet, but he could worry about the rest later.
Zim was currently situated on a metal seat just above the immersion tank. A long metal pole extended from the seat, attached to which was a large circular target. It was from this vantage point that Zim recapped his magnificent plan to GIR.
"Yes! The mixture is finally ready! Now, I can bathe in the growth hormones I harvested from the humans. When I emerge from the tank in four to six hours, I will be as tall as any of the Hi Skool pig-smellies! Now remember, GIR: all you have to do is launch something at the target when I say now."
"Okay!" GIR exclaimed, opening the hatch in the top of his head and removing from it a rubber toy pig.
Zim's eyes widened in surprise. "No, GIR!" he cried, waving his arms in protest. "I wasn't ready yet! Don't throw that piggy!"
But it was too late. GIR hurled the toy at the target with all his strength. With the clang of pig on metal, the target flew back in recoil, triggering the mechanism for Zim's seat. The seat suddenly collapsed, and Zim splashed into the dense green liquid of the immersion tank. "I hate you, GIR," he tried to say, but all that came from his mouth was a series of large air bubbles and accompanying gurgling noises.
"Buh-bye!" GIR shouted before trotting out of the laboratory. Zim wasn't supposed to leave that tank for a good while, so the little robot had free rein until his master emerged.
GIR wondered if Krazy Taco was still open at this hour…
~~~Victory for Zim!~~~
Deep in the cold, dark recesses of Zim's underground science bay, something was beginning to stir within the great immersion tank in the back. There came a low hissing noise from within the tank that grew louder and louder as it went on. There appeared upon one side of the tank a tiny glowing spot that grew brighter as the hissing grew louder, until hissing and brightening came together to reveal the source:
A purple-colored cutting laser was slicing through the tank.
In a moment, the cutting laser succeeded in cutting a rectangular hole four feet tall and two feet wide. The cut-away section of the tank clattered to the floor, immediately followed by the gushing of several gallons of green goop as it rushed through the hole. In the midst of that torrent was an Irken, gasping for breath and covered in slime. The cutting laser now retracted into the Irken's PAK, form which it had originated.
After a moment of desperately trying to fill his lungs with sweet, sweet oxygen, the Irken shakily rose to his feet. "Ooh!" he exclaimed in his nasally voice. "That robot! He left me in the immersion tank too long! If I hadn't cut myself free, who knows how freakishly tall I may have become?"
It was then that the Irken sat up for the first time and got a good look at himself. He examined for a moment the new length of his arms and legs, blankly staring at them and wriggling them about to make sure they were really his. It did not take long for him to realize that those were his arms, those were his legs… and yes, those were his enormous feet.
"YAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
An inhuman shriek filled the air as Invader Zim realized that his experiment had worked.
Perhaps too well.
~~~Victory for Zim!~~~
GIR was sitting on the sofa in Zim's living room, munching on a taco as he watched the Scary Monkey Show, which he numbered among his favorite programs (a list that changed every ten seconds and sometimes included watching a blank TV screen). Beside him was an immense paper bag filled with tacos, courtesy of the local Krazy Taco outlet. However, when GIR heard the screams coming from the science bay, his programming suddenly went into overdrive: he took a slightly larger mouthful of taco and stared a little bit harder at the TV.
The unearthly shriek that pervaded the air of the entire base was soon followed by a crash, then a clang, then a cry of "Oh dear Irk, I'm in such pain!" But through it all, GIR didn't blink a single robotic eye. Nor did he do much of anything until at last, a very tall Irken appeared in the kitchen doorway, gasping for breath and leaning against the wall to hold himself upright.
It was Zim.
Zim's experiment had exceeded all expectations: he was now roughly six feet and one inch tall. His Invader uniform had managed to grow along with him, thanks to the miracle of Irken nanotechnology, so at least clothing wasn't an issue. However, Zim found that his newly elongated appendages seemed a bit less stable than they'd once been. Zim hadn't been the most coordinated of beings before the change… but now, it was a challenge to even stand.
"GIR," Zim exclaimed, "you were supposed to get me out of the immersion tank hours ago! Where were you?"
GIR looked up at his master with wide-eyed innocence as he murmured, "Oh, yeah… I was gettin' tacos!"
"Tacos! You left me in an immersion tank for twelve hours so you could get tacos?"
"I got some burritos too," GIR pointed out.
"No matter!" Zim shouted with a wave of his hand, which proved to be a mistake—he lost his grip on the wall and nearly fell face-first to the floor. When Zim caught himself and became stable once more, he continued, "Your forgetfulness actually seems to have come in handy, GIR. Now, I'm taller than any of those disgusting pig monsters at the Hi Skool—even Dib! Now, I've achieved the perfect height to stare into my enemy's face as I CRUSH HIM! All I have to do is train myself to use these grotesquely long limbs."
Zim released the wall and, though he nearly fell over again, he kept his feet planted until he was finally steady. "Now, GIR!" he declared triumphantly. "I'm going to Hi Skoo—AAAAAH!"
Zim was interrupted as he took his first triumphant step forward, managing to trip over his own ankles and crash to the floor. "I'm okay!" he shouted, using the wall to right himself. His second triumphant step, however, proved no more productive than the first. Several more attempts were made, but they all produced the same results.
Perhaps mastery of his new great stature would be more difficult than Zim had first anticipated…
~~~Victory for Zim!~~~
"So you see students, over time our sun will become a red giant, increasing in radius until it consumes planet Earth in a fiery conflagration. Then the sun will die and collapse into a black hole, sucking in the rest of our solar system."
It was a quiet day at the Hi Skool. Mrs. Bitters was sharing another of her famous apocalyptic lectures with the class, though no one was really paying attention. Many of the students were doing what they did best: sitting in the classroom with their minds completely blank. Gaz was once again playing her Game Slave 4, paying absolutely no attention to the world around her (which, she had discovered long ago, was much too boring and stupid to hold her attention for long). Everything was perfectly normal.
Naturally, this set Dib on edge.
"Pssst! Gaz!" Dib whispered, slowly turning to face his sister in the seat behind him. "Have you noticed something odd today?"
Gaz didn't bother looking up. "You're whispering like an overly-dramatic idiot?"
"No!" Dib shouted, eliminating any secrecy his whispering had afforded him. "It's Zim! He isn't here today! He's never not here… unless he's plotting something. But what? What?"
"I hope it's a plan to shrink your giant head," Gaz muttered.
Dib, in his usual fashion, ignored the comment as he continued his ramblings. "This is serious! Who knows what kind of evil schemes his alien mind is cooking up while we're sitting helpless in homeroom? He's probably already putting his plans into action, going around and doing… stuff. Alien stuff!"
At last, Gaz decided she couldn't take it anymore. She paused her GS4 and looked Dib squarely in the eyes; her gaze penetrated into Dib's very core as she said through gritted teeth, "Dib, if I have to put up with one more syllable of your stupid rants about Zim, I will rip off all your limbs and use them to…"
Gaz's not-so-idle threat was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door as it slowly swung open. Everything went quiet; even Ms. Bitters paused in mid-lecture as the opener of the door made himself known. Even Gaz, who wasn't easily impressed, couldn't help but stare.
After a moment, the awestricken silence was broken (predictably) by Dib. "Is… is that Zim?"
Indeed, Invader Zim… or someone who looked like him… stood leaning in the doorway, his legs wobbling as he tried to maintain his balance. He was still able to pass for human—his head hadn't grown very much during his immersion, so his contacts and hairpiece still fit him properly—but even such a brilliant disguise was not enough to hide a single glaring detail that now drew the stares and slacking jaws of everyone in the class. A shout from a student sitting in the back of the room described it best:
"Hey! Zim got tall!"
This cry, which served no real purpose but to point out the obvious, at least seemed to help Dib recover from his shock. Immediately, Dib's paranormal expertise allowed him to analyze the situation and reach the most logical conclusion. "Aha!" he exclaimed, pounding his fist upon his desk. "I knew it! Look, everybody! I told you he was an alien, and now he's used some kind of advanced technology to make himself taller!"
"Nonsense!" Zim scoffed, managing to sound confident even as his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. "I'm not an alien! I'm just a… a late bloomer! And now I've finally hit my growth spurt! Yup, everything's perfectly normal; no need to concern your pitiful human brains."
"Yeah," one of the students nodded. "My uncle was a late bloomer. He's a hobo now."
"Zim's right," another student agreed. "And our brains are kinda pitiful."
Dib's jaw hung open in utter astonishment once more—this time not at Zim's new stature, but at the ignorance of his own race. "Oh, come on!" he argued. "Hitting a growth spurt this late in senior year is improbable enough, but that much overnight? Does anyone else see something wrong here? Huh? Huh? Anybody?"
"Ho ho ho!" Zim scoffed, now smug in his assurance that he had won over the minds of his peers yet again. "Don't listen to Dib. Listen to me! I'm tall!"
All the students breathed a sigh of relief at that, much happier to believe the "logical" explanation over Dib's crazy spiels.
Except Gaz.
Gaz didn't trust herself to breathe.
~~~Victory for Zim!~~~
This is how it feels to be Gaz, right now…
You've known Zim for a long time. Eight years, as a matter of fact. You remember that when he first arrived on Earth, you felt no different about him than you did about any other living creature you'd ever met: apathetic. You knew he was too stupid to take over the Earth, and you only got slightly annoyed at him when his plans interfered with your own (a certain trip to Bloaty's Pizza Hog comes to mind).
But as the years passed and you began to grow up, something changed. You don't know when or how it happened, and you certainly can't figure out why, but your feelings toward Zim have changed. You see it in him now: a quality… you might even go so far as to say a quirk… about him that has always fascinated you.
Zim always wins.
You don't know how he does it, but you've watched it happen time and time again. Zim is an incompetent—it took you all of five seconds to figure out that he was an alien, and that was just the beginning. But somehow, he always manages to come out on top. Over the years, you've watched him get into trouble and get himself out again more times than you care to count. It's almost as though there's a brilliance behind his bungling, ingenuity behind his idiocy. No matter what he says or what he does, he always has just what it takes to make sure no one can touch him.
This quality puzzles you, and it fascinates you. You are smarter than that; you always know exactly what you're doing and exactly how to go about doing it. You cannot fathom how someone can stumble through life as Zim does, making everything up as he goes along and hoping—knowing—everything will work out in the end. You know it is this quality that has kept him from becoming a specimen on an autopsy table for nearly a decade. You remember trying to figure it out once or twice, but you've long since given it up now. You've chalked it all up to the Great Mystery of Zim: that one subject you know you will never understand.
It is for this reason that, over time, Zim has gained your respect. You admire him because he is the only person (if an alien can indeed be called a person) to ever beat the system—the only concept to ever escape the far-reaching clutches of your logic and reasoning. He's certainly more complex than your insane older brother, whose entire life can be summarized in the words paranormal and big head.
You are polar opposites: Zim the blundering egomaniac with a stroke of brilliance inside him, you the quiet and reserved young woman who is far too intelligent to care about the lesser beings that surround you. But even though you are vastly different, beneath the difference lies a fundamental truth.
Zim is the first person you can finally consider your equal. That is why you really respect him. But for all the respect and admiration you've held in your heart for Zim, you have always considered him beneath your notice: a little green man with the unreachable goal of world conquest.
That isn't the case anymore.
Now, you look at Zim and see the difference for yourself. He certainly isn't little anymore, and after knowing him for so many years, it's very easy for you to overlook the green. Now, as Zim stands in the doorway of your homeroom class, you see him for the first time as what you should have known him all along to be.
The being you see before you is a man.
Something about that unsettles you. Maybe it's the way he's leaning there in the doorway, his face perfectly nonchalant even when his legs are quivering and shaking beneath him. Maybe it's the way his height seems to make him more commanding, as if just being tall gives him some great new authority that even you cannot question. Or maybe it's the way you can't bring yourself to look into his eyes, because every time you do you know that he's staring atyou.
You. Specifically.
Your breath is catching in your throat, and your heart is starting to race. You try to force your lungs to work, to tell your heart to slow down before it incurs your wrath… but you cannot stop it. Thinking about it only makes it worse. Thinking about Zim makes it a lot worse. But there isn't much else to think about, because there is nothing to distract you but the thought of you and Zim.
That sounds wrong even in your head.
In the end, you find that you can't even move. You don't want to move, because the slightest jerk of the head or twitch of the arm might let Zim know that he's affecting you. You're even reluctant to move your eyes as you search for something in the room to focus on—anything to take your mind off the man leaning in that doorway.
You are too late. No matter what you try to think about, a single childish thought continues to emerge, and the harder you try to push the thought from your mind the louder it becomes:
Zim is hot…
This is how it feels to be Gaz, right now…
A/N: And there you have it. Zim's finally tall, and Gaz is already beginning to notice.
There's not a whole lot to say this time, but I will express my gratitude for both new and familiar faces that have already dropped a review for this fic. Thank you, and may you enjoy more Zimmy goodness to come.
Until next time, Lord Moldybutt signing off.
