A/N: Thank you reviewers! My anonymous and signed alike. I am truly sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Today, Zim decided it would be a good time to try out Gir's staring game, only Zim chose a different object to eye.

Be in mind, Zim had not woken up thinking it would be a good day to uselessly glare at his SIR unit, but Gir, himself, had chosen this morning to be one to be completely incompetent.

"Gir!" Zim called for the dozenth time. Gir continued to roll around with his rubber Piggy. That stupid rubber Piggy. He should have gone on a conquest for all of the rubber Piggies in the world when he was using his time-space teleporter. But no, he simply settled with Gir's stash. How could he have not realized Gir would simply find MORE of the cursed things?

"Gir!" he tried again. Still the robot refused to acknowledge him. Zim put his chin out and huffed over to the refrigerator, making obvious stomping noises for dramatic effect.

"Gir! If you don't pay attention to me RIGHT now, I'm going to tear up your waffles. You will NEVER eat another waffle for as long as I am alive to keep them away from you, and in my New World Order waffles will be banned forever in three, two, one..."

"Master! I'm here! I'm here!" Gir gave a muffled sob inside his costume. "Please don't make my waffle sad..."

"Fine, Gir," Zim said, feeling uncomfortable with Gir's tears. He "Just listen to me."

Gir made a salute with his hand. "Gir," Zim announced, "due to the freakish burns the laser has formed on my face, I have been focusing the past two weeks on creating a new skin graft. You may have noticed my absence, Gir, in between your trips to Peru and Iceland with those female earthmonkeys you call your friends."

"MY FANGIRLS!" Gir corrected.

"Yes, yes, you with your made up words," Zim rolled his eyes. "Now, this skin graft is truly AMAZING," Zim emphasized the last word in a low voice. "I'm thinking I'll use it to make you some sort of new disguise." Zim stared down at his robot dog's zipper sticking widely out. "And maybe even work on your AI a little more. So, we're going to go to the Crazy Taco and get you anything you need to stay calm so that I can—"

Zim got no further. Gir began to throw a fit of happiness, hugging tightly his rubber piggy. Zim thought to himself that it was a good thing that the pig was rubber as he watched it being hugged rolled around with. A barely distinguishable oink! made him stop short and look further at the "rubber" pig. "Gir..." Zim started to say, but the robot was still in such a throw of ecstasy that Zim decided it was pointless to even try to reason with him.

"Let's go, Gir."

Dib sat in the dark, utter loneliness of his prison twitching. That had been... horrible. Frightening.. and awful.

The Suckmonkey was stuck unceremoniously on his unusually large head and completely outside of Dib's reach. It's cold condensation slid down his face almost like tears.

Dib felt so very alone. It was not the alone he was used to. He wasn't on the outside looking in, he was on the outside without any kind of window.

How long had he been trapped in this prison now? It seemed only a few hours... Yet in his mind, he felt a very different expanse of time.

But Dib stood. He had to get back home. No telling what Zim was planning. Maybe he had even hired these... unconventionally goons to get rid of him. Well, it wasn't going to happen! Dib was getting out of this dump, and there was nothing Zim or these guys could do about it.

Now, he just needed some way out of this place...

"Hmm..." Zim stared at the Dib human's house for a moment.

"Gir!" he called ahead. "Come here."

Gir, eyes bulging in his dog costume, hurried over the wigged alien. "When's we gonna get me tacos, Master?"

"Gir, have you seen the filthy pig boy recently? He has been an absent thorn in my side for weeks now."

Gir shook his head wildly. "Nope! Can we get my tacos now?"

"No? But that doesn't make any sense. He is always here... Where could he have gone?"

"MASTER!" Gir tugged on Zim's sleeve.

"Hmm. He must be planning something. Come on, Gir. We are going to pay a visit to our little monkey friends."

Zim stepped towards the house deliberately, goose-stomping in his little alien way, chin pointed out in determination, mouth set in a firm pout. Invader Zim was on a mission. He was going to discover Dib's little human-monkey scheme, and then he was going to first, stop it, and then use it against him. An eye for an eye was a phrase Zim actually liked from the Earthenoids. He would do exactly what was meant to be done to him.

If Dib wanted to plant a spy bug in his base, Zim would have the big-headed boy's house INFECTED!

If Dib wanted to blow up his spce ship, Zim would blow up the WORLD!

And if he wanted to make tacos out of dirt and wood, he would... he would...

Wait a moment.

"Gir!" Zim turned to snatch the "taco" from the robot before he could take a bite. "No, Gir! Dirt bad! Now come on, we're going to see just what is so intensely sinister that the Dib has been out of contact for weeks."

And, once again, free from Zim's realization, Zim began playing a game without realizing it.

Of course, he also had no idea this game would be much more detrimental to his health than even his robot dog.