Zim marched down the street, humming a carol to himself, although he had a sinister smile on his face. Ahead was Zim's house, or more, what was left of it. Dib stood in front of the rubble, panting.
Zim was now in a rage, "Filthy, human, stink, pig, filth, pig, filth, stink, pig!"
Dib spun around as Zim approached, "No! Zim, it's not what it looks like—"
"It's exactly what it looks like," Zim sneered.
"No, you don't understand," Dib tried to explain.
"Oh, I understand, all right," Zim sported a cynical smile, "I understand that you will be here tomorrow cleaning this all up."
Dib's eyes widened in desperation, "But tomorrow's Christmas! I promised my kids I would be home all day."
Pure evil slipped into Zim's face, "And what a pity if one should end up like their mother."
Dib's fear for his children rose over his promise to them. He fought back the pain that rose at the horrific memory of finding his wife mutilated in the street.
"I will be here in the morning," Dib promised.
Zim knew Dib would keep his word and let him pass as Mini-Moose floated up, squeaking excitedly.
Zim ignored him and snapped, "Where were you when the base was destroyed?"
Mini-Moose turned to the ruins. He hadn't even noticed the house was down. He had been too excited about spreading Christmas cheer to notice.
"Meh?"
"What happened?" Zim exploded, "That filthy, good for nothing, Dib-human destroyed the base!"
Mini-Moose examined the remains, "Meh. Meh, meh, meh."
Zim hadn't checked the situation yet, and found that his last remaining minion was right. It was only the house that lay in ruins. The underground base was untouched. Not even the gnomes survived.
"Huh, well, good, less to repair," Zim said as he entered his "front door." "Mini-Moose! I'm going down to the lab to start the repairs."
"Meh, meh, meh, meh!" Mini-Moose exclaimed.
"I don't care what filthy earth holiday it is!" Zim shuttered, remembering his first Halloween, before flushing himself down the toilet into his underground lair.
Several hours later, Zim was just about finished planning the houses repairs. It was getting late, and for some reason, Zim was feeling sleepy. He didn't understand it. Irkens didn't need sleep; their PAK's gave them the energy they needed.
"Perhaps that part of my PAK is—"
"He, he, he, he, he!"
Zim paused as he heard a laugh. That wasn't the Dib's laugh, and Mini-Moose didn't laugh like that. Unless…
"It couldn't be," Zim whispered to himself.
The laugh sounded again, closer this time. Zim turned to find a little robot playing with a rubber piggy.
"GIR!" Zim exclaimed in surprise.
The robot faced the Irken, "Hi master!"
Zim was dumbfounded, "How? But you were…" Zim's memories played through his head to the last time he had seen his SIR-unit. Dib had shot a laser at Zim, but GIR had gotten in the way and exploded on impact. Zim had repaid Dib with a blow equally, if not more, crushing. His wife.
GIR interrupted Zim's thoughts, "Why did you go and yell at Dib?"
"Why?" Zim echoed, "Because he destroyed the house!"
GIR seemed to be unfazed by the response, "Remember all the good times we had together?"
Zim just stared at GIR. Good times? He was still trying to figure out how his little robot was even here!
GIR started listing random moments in time, "The ship ride to Earth, being on TV, watching the Scary Monkey Show, sayin' hi to the moose! That was fun!" GIR's tongue hung from his mouth.
Zim just waved it off, "Yes, yes, but how are you here? How did you fix yourself?"
"I didn't!"
"Huh?" Zim asked.
"I's not living no more!" GIR announced as if it was the best news anyone could possibly get.
"Not living? You mean, dead?"
GIR nodded.
Zim didn't understand. How could GIR be right here, but also dead? It didn't make sense to the invader. GIR continued his ramble, "Please be nice master. It be better if you're nice!" the robot hugged himself for emphasis.
"Nice? Better? What are you talking about?" but GIR started to fade away, "GIR, what are you doing? Come back here! GIR!"
"Be nice master," GIR repeated before disappearing from sight.