AN: Sorry for the delay. I was feeling uninspired for a while and trying to find a job. I hope my writing is decent. I feel like I am bad at conveying emotions and I tend to overuse big words. I also feel I tend to avoid dialogue. Probably because I am not much of a talker IRL. Any tips on that?

Chapter 2: Gross

Zim woke up to find himself incapable of movement; he was stuck in something gooey and stinky. To say that Zim was hyperventilating would be an understatement. The tiny Irken was attempting to breathe so harshly that his tiny, usually unnoticeable nostrils flared up taking in the horrible stench of the sentient filth that bound him. Normally he would have covered his nostrils and gagged. But his need for the oxygen he wasn't getting due to his shallow breathing was too much. The last thing he remembered was the encroaching army of microbes. He was almost completely submerged in slimy and disgusting biofilm. He attempted to free himself, first by kicking and screaming, but he was far too enveloped within the biofilm to tear himself free.

It then occurred to him to use his PAK. He winced as he focused all of his brain power to wield his PAK legs, but the ports were sealed shut, as his PAK was entirely submerged. When he managed to free himself he would burn his attire and the germs would pay! Oh, how much would they pay! This time he would be more thorough with his cleaning. No survivors would remain. Wait…

Hadn't these germs survived his antibacterial spray? Zim cursed his luck. He was surrounded by anti-alien 'splodey germs that would eventually make their way to his delicious entrails if he was lucky enough to avoid exploding. Zim felt hopeless. Zim was never the kind to accept defeat, even in the face of impending doom. No one had ever believed in him, being an Irken runt. Yet he remained unabashed in his pursuit of greatness. Ever the punching bag at the academy, he never surrendered to his Tallers even if it would have spared him further beatings. He never backed down from his attempts at conquest despite all his failures. All those times he was convinced he was an unstoppable death machine unlike anything the Empire had ever seen. Zim did not feel like an unstoppable death machine right now… He was at the mercy of microscopic beings! How pathetic! He was ashamed for once. He felt smaller than a microbe. The mighty Irken Invader Zim reduced to nourishment for insignificant microbes! He was feeling rather light-headed…

Then he saw cyan light through his downcast orbs and his breathing slowed enough to keep him conscious. It was Gir! His very advanced SIR unit! He saw the film retreat as the robot walked towards him. This was his chance! "Gir! Let your master out of this filth immediately!" a desperate Zim exclaimed.

"I made you waffles!" Gir shrieked. Zim paled as he realized the direction this was going.

"No, Gir! I will not eat your waffles again!" he struggled against the biofilm. "Let me out now!" the struggle continued. "Obey your master!" He would not subject himself to the torture of Earthen foods produced by his robot EVER AGAIN. He shuddered at the memory of having to fight the demon squid while his spooch was practically bursting with bacon-soap and waffles. The pain!

The robot began to wail. Suddenly, a portion of the biofilm took on an Irkenoid shape. "You will do as the Savior commands, green fiend!" The germy being added "Now, you will politely ask the Savior for nourishment or we will colonize your wounds and entrails!"

"No! My blood candies! No! No!" Zim shuddered and shrieked.

The Irkenoid colony was seemingly irritated by Zim's screams. A gigantic arm connected to a fist composed of biofilm materialized and slapped the Irken hard enough to dislodge one of the Irken's ruby orbs. Zim screamed as his orb was placed back in its socket. Surely, there were germs inside him now! The colony took the opportunity to stuff the Irken with Gir's waffles. A tear rolled down the Irken's cheek. His throat was uncomfortably stretched, he forced the offending foodstuffs down. He felt his spooch contorting, reflux further injuring his throat. He felt horrible. The spooch juices made his way to his mouth and he couldn't hold it in. He puked all over the place.

He was disoriented when he had finally emptied his spooch. Then it dawned on him, he was free! Biofilm is made of polysaccharides, exactly what Irkens are best at digesting. The colony was mourning the bindings Zim had destroyed. Gir was rolling around in Zim's vomit. Zim ran towards the kitchen and jumped into the toilet that led towards his laboratory. He needed to concoct a more effective antibacterial agent or something.

"Get him!" Staphy commanded. Swarms of goo crawled over towards the toilet.

Zim was in his lab, frantically pouring acids into a beaker. Staphy's army got closer and closer…

Zim jumped into the table, accidentally kicking the beaker into the floor. The acid seeped into the floor and into the underlying machinery. The colony avoided it and climbed up behind Zim, making him stumble upon a former invention, the shrink ray, to be exact. He had used it on himself to erase Dib's knowledge of where he had hidden compromising footage. He had taken it out in hopes of either shrinking the Dib's enormous head to make it less offensive to the senses or to remind the rapidly growing human who the superior being was.

The ray hit Zim. The colony found itself gawking at the spot the Irken had previously occupied. Had the fiend been vanquished? It would need to scour the lab for the highly dispersed remains of the fiend to be sure.

AN: So biofilm is a slimy polysaccharide produced by colonies of bacteria that find themselves through quorum sensing (how bacteria communicate) that protects the colony from threats such as antibiotics. Or a harsh environment. My headcanon on Irken bio is that their spooch acids easily eat through polysaccharides we can't digest, such as cellulose, in addition to those we can digest. I mean, all we ever see them eat is very high-carb.