Dib lead the three dimension travelers to his enemy's base. When they arrived, Dib knocked proudly. Dean shuffled his brothers hair as the door creaked open. "St-stop! Ah," Sam said, hitting Dean. "Dib?" a small green child hissed, "what are you doing here?" Dib folded his arms across his chest. "I've come to send you back from wince you came!" Dib shoved the door open.
Zim growled. "Oh, yeah? You and what army?" "This one!" Dib pointed behind himself.
"Hey," said Sam. "Yo," Dean added. The demon just starred. "What's wrong with his skin?" he said.
Zim laughed loudly. "You call that an army? You'll see and army when the armada gets here!" "Come on guys!" Dib urged. "What exactly do you want us to do?" Sam asked. "Uh, just throw him back into space!" "Where's his ears?" Azazel asked. "Your pitiful 'army' will lose, Dib," Zim snarled, "Gir! Defensive mode!" All of the sudden a tiny robot jumped off the couch and, with glowing red eyes, pounced on Dean.
"Ah!" Dean screamed, "Get it off! Sam!" Sam just laughed. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" Gir was sucking on Dean's head. The demon just kept eyeing Zim. "And what's up with the dress?" Zim looked down. "This isn't a dress, it's an irken uniform!" "An are those black tights?" Yellow eyes laughed, "And knee high boots? All you need now is a Prada bag!" Sam kept laughing. "Sam! Stop! Ah! It!" Zim glared at the demon. "Just who do you think you are?" he snapped.
"Well, I'll tell you who I'm not," the man said, reaching out with his hand, "A patient being." Zim got a painful expression. Gir popped off Dean's head. Dean started to wipe the saliva out of his hair when he noticed the small green kid's expression. "Uh, Sam?" Sam eyed the alien. "Ye- er, Azazel?" The demon was smirking as he caused the alien pain. Zim was thrown against the wall and began to rise.
"Zim…?" Dib said weakly. Zim coughed and light green liquid flew to the floor. "Ewww… is that his blood?" Dean commented. Zim slid up onto the ceiling. Sam nudged his brother. "Hello? Mom? Jessica?" Dean scowled at Azazel and tackled him. The man fell to the floor with an angry grunt.
Zim fell as well, breathing hard. Azazel knocked Dean off. "Get off, you whelp!" "Whelp?" Dean said Dean, getting up, "What is this? The 1600s?" "He only wanted him sent away," Sam said impatiently.
The man eyed Dib questionably. "Ye-yeah…" Dib stammered, "Zim?" Zim hugged himself. "Ah! My squeedilyspooch!"
"His what?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.
"Look kid, there's a lot I can do," nagged the demon, "But sending someone away, unharmed, isn't one of them. So I either roast him like a kabob and you send me home, or I constrict your breathing until you send me home." Azazel smiled deviously.
"Uh, I guess you can kill him," Dib began timidly, "I donno, I haven't assisted in murder before…" "Come on, kid," Yellow Eyes hissed, "He's an alien. What importance is he to the- er, your earth?"
"You have a point…"
"I am very important to the Irken army! As you speak I'm on a secret mission!" Zim coughed. Abruptly, four long robot legs extended from Zim's pak, lifting him 6 feet up.
"Computer!" Zim called, "Capture the Dib!" Without warning there came more robotic arms from the ceiling. Sam and Dean immediately whipped out their guns. "Ah!" Dib yelped as one robot arm grabbed him from behind. "And how exactly does your computer know which one of us is Dib?" Azazel said, not caring what was going on.
"Eh," Zim stuttered, "I keep a file on him. For things that might happen!"
"No, that's not weird…" the demon replied, rolling his eyes.
Dean shot the arm carrying Dib away several times. Nothing happened. "Hahahaha! Your inferior weapons don't work! I made it so the metal was unbreakable!" Dib was carried off into the ceiling. Sam shot the arm that came for him and it collapsed to the floor, sparking. Dean looked at the arm, and then at Zim. "Unbreakable, huh?"
"Um, out! Get out!" Zim squealed. The robot arms shoved the three out of the house. The door shut instantaneously. Dean shot the door twice. Then, he shot Yellow Eyes in the shoulder. He turned wicked fast. He glared at Dean. The wound wouldn't hurt him, but it hurt the host. A few more of those, and the host wouldn't be as functional. That annoyed him.
"Slipped," Dean said smugly. "I would watch my aim if I were you," the demon growled, "It could ricochet back through your skull." "I'll take my chances," Dean retorted, lifting the gun back up. "Will you two stop?" Sam said quickly before Dean pulled the trigger. "He killed mom. I think he deserves it," Dean snarled, not taking his eyes off the demon.
"That might be true, but right now we all need to get back," Sam held out his hand to Azazel. "Truce?" The man eyed his hand suspiciously. "You've got to be kidding me," Dean groaned. "Look, I don't trust him at all. But in order to get that stupid kid out of there, it's going to take the three of us," Sam looked back to the demon, "I hate you more than you can even imagine, and when we get back, I'm going to kick your ass. But for now, truce?"
Azazel hesitated, and then took Sam's hand. "Fine. Just keep your sibling under control."
"Dean?" "Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled, reloading his gun, "I'll go along with your stupid plan. But no way in hell am I shaking his hand."
Sam smiled. "Okay. Let's go save our big headed way home."
