Author's Notes: Yay! Another quick update! This chapter is going to be the fun chapter, at least the middle part. The beginning and end are both contemplative and plot driven, but the middle part is mostly comedy. I enjoyed writing this as it's a nice breather chapter before the rest of the more dramatic plot kicks in. I hope you guys enjoy it :)


Chapter 7

Prank War of Unpleasantness!

After Jeem had taken Dib home she decided to stay at the Membrane house for a few more hours. Dib wasn't surprised since she likely needed a rest, but what did surprise Dib was how much Gaz wanted to hang out with their grandmother. It just wasn't like Gaz to want someone else around. Then again, Dib thought back to how important their dad's family restaurant appointments were to Gaz, so maybe she cared more about family than she was willing to let on.

"You made it to chapter 9 already?" Jeem commended when Gaz showed her a book on the history of snack foods.

"Yeah, it wasn't that hard," Gaz replied dismissively, "Though I did think it was pretty cool how most of the major chocolate companies doomed themselves to bankruptcy with their pointless price war."

Dib just sat back and drank a soda in the kitchen while he watched these two converse in the living room. He was actually kind of happy Gaz was interested in something besides video games and hurting him, but it was still weird to see Gaz get excited over snacks and bond with someone much older than she was.

"So Grandmother, you got any more tips for making people fear me?" Gaz asked with a malevolent smirk.

"Plenty," Jeem replied and she appraised Gaz's face, "First of all, you need to look taller. If you can't loom over your minions then they'll never take you seriously."

"I don't have any minions," Gaz pointed out.

"Well you should get some," Jeem suggested, "They're great."

"Okay, so maybe I could wear shoes that make me look taller. Anything else?" Gaz inquired.

"Well, you already have the attitude and the muscle to back up your intimidation," Jeem stated as she touched a finger to her chin, "However, it wouldn't hurt if you tried to look prettier. Beauty sells, and ugly gets shot down. Maybe some makeup for starters, and some new clothes. I'll take you shopping after skool tomorrow."

"I'm not wearing anything to make me look stupid," Gaz insisted as she crossed her arms challengingly.

"Well, duh!" Jeem waved away the concern, "The point is to look powerful, not stupid. Also, I have some books on leadership at home if you want to borrow them."

"I'd like that," Gaz nodded.

"Oh, I just remembered. Those books aren't in English. They'll have to be translated," Jeem declared, "Give me a couple weeks, Gazlene. I'll see to it you have all the tools you need to be the next CEO of the company. Well, this has been fun. I've gotta go now. I need to coordinate Sweet Mother's quadruple booth for the next food vendor's convention, and then I need to see if Bill is actually doing his job or if he needs to be fired. Bye Gazlene. Bye Dib!"

Dib waved from the kitchen when she called out his name, and then Jeem hovered away. Dib's opinion of his grandmother wasn't exactly set in stone just yet. On the one hand he was growing more attached to her because she was family, but on the other hand there were still things about her that creeped him out. Also, Gaz wasn't the same person since she found out she was going to be rich and powerful when their grandmother died. Dib didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.


Zim was putting on his disguise before going to skool. Gir was rolling around in a huge pile of dirt he dug up in the front yard, and his dog costume was getting dirty. Zim growled when he looked at his minion out the window. That robot was always getting into messes and causing Zim trouble.

Zim walked out the door and nearly tripped on the metallic fuschia colored box in front of his doorstep. He staggered back to keep from falling on his face, and then grabbed the box and brought it in the house. Gir saw his master was about to open a present and decided to come in to see what it was. Maybe it was monkey flavored bacon soap.

Zim touched his hand to the box and it opened for him, revealing a long sweater that was purple with yellow duckies printed on it. Even through his insulated gloves Zim could feel how itchy this sweater was, and was about to throw it down in disgust when he saw Gir reach into the box and pull out an envelope.

"Aww, Mastah got a card!" Gir gushed, "EEEHH! It's from my mommies!"

"Wha?" Zim tilted his head in confusion, but then simply shouted "Give me that!" and snatched the card away.

Dear Zim,

We are so proud of how obedient you have been and how well you are doing on your mission. We know earth is a hostile planet, and the Irken Empire is grateful for your service. We have read the reports you have given us and realized just how cold it gets on earth. This sweater was especially commissioned just for you Zim, and we insist that you wear it at all times to stay warm. We will be very disappointed if you disobey us and don't wear your very special sweater.

Love,

The Tallests

"The Tallests gave me a sweater!?" Zim exclaimed in jubilation, "I knew it! I knew they adored me! How could they not encourage the progress of the MIGHTY ZIM!?"

"You gonna wear it?" Gir asked plainly as he stuck his tongue out.

Zim blanched as he suddenly realized that yes, the Tallests just ordered him to wear the itchy sweater with the duckies on it. However, Zim knew this gift was a point of pride for him, so he took off his uniform and put on the sweater. He would've worn both, but it was unusually hot for the month of May.

When he put the sweater on, he realized that the itching was even worse than he could've ever imagined! The sweater irritated and poked his skin, and it really hurt. He screamed as he attempted to scratch himself, only to cause the material to painfully scrape across his skin. He hated the way this thing felt, but he would dutifully wear it. After all, how many other invaders could claim the Tallests themselves gave them a protective sweater?


After skool Dib and Gaz left the building and saw that Jeem had driven up in a black sedan to pick them up. Dib smiled happily, because he didn't feel like walking and also because he had great news for his grandmother.

Dib and Gaz both got in the back seat of the car and Jeem drove away. She looked back and saw that Gaz was playing her Game Slave II while Dib was bouncing up and down in his seat; chomping at the bit to speak to her.

"How was skool today, munchkins?" Jeem asked innocently.

"Oh man! You should've seen it!" Dib's wall of silence finally burst and he gleefully recalled his day, "Zim came to skool wearing the ugliest sweater I've ever seen! It was lavender with yellow ducks on it, and it was two sizes too big for him. He spent the whole day scratching himself, and all the kids laughed themselves silly! I think Zita laughed so hard she peed herself!"

Dib continued to laugh at the mental image, and Jeem continued to drive with a satisfied smile on her face.

"I just don't know what could've possessed Zim to wear such a hideous thing!" Dib howled as he continued to laugh.

"Guilt-based pressure," Jeem replied knowingly, and Dib stopped laughing when he heard those words.

"Wait, how did you get Zim to wear a girly baby sweater?" Dib asked incredulously, "And how did you even get that sweater in the first place? They haven't made things like that in decades."

"I like to sew," Jeem replied simply, "The sweater is made of steel wool, chicken wire, and angora. Kloee taught me how to crochet ducks, as well as pigs for some reason. Anyway, that was just phase one of my plan to be rid of Zim."

"You think tricking him into wearing a humiliating sweater will get rid of him?" Dib asked skeptically.

"No Dib munchkin, but like I said, that was only phase one" Jeem replied vaguely.


The next morning Zim found another metallic box on his doorstep, and he quickly grabbed it and brought it inside. Judging from the presentation, he could already guess who sent it to him.

He opened it, and the box contained a closed cauldron. When he opened the lid, he was struck by a putrid stench and saw a bubbling grayish green liquid inside. He also saw a note, and feared what it might say after seeing the rotting filth in the box. He gulped before reading, knowing he was in for a world of misery.

Dear Zim,

We know that earth food isn't real food, and that you have been working very hard. You're a growing soldier and you need your strength to destroy the humans and make widows and orphans of the survivors. To ensure you are at maximum power, we are sending you a special nutrient formula that will make you twice and strong and three times as intelligent as you already are. We insist that you eat every last bite of the formula. We will be very displeased if you disobey us and neglect your nutrition. We're counting on you, Zim.

Love,

The Tallests

Zim was petrified. He had to eat that!? Then again, they did say that it was a special formula designed to make him even more amazing than he already was. Yes, he would eat the disgusting muscle food. It was for the good of the mission...


When Zim came to skool the next day he was fatter and looked like he was going to throw up. Dib didn't know what was going on with the little Irken, but he smiled in satisfaction knowing the earth was safe for another day.

Hm...Maybe if he's sick enough I can spy on Zim without him even noticing... Dib thought with a sinister smile. Yeah, soon space boy, soon you'll be in a lab on an autopsy table being filmed by Mysterious Mysteries...


Nearly a week passed with daily packages of gruel for Zim from 'The Tallests'. He didn't feel any stronger, but he knew his Tallests wouldn't lie to him. They were his leaders, they gave him this special mission, and they were supporting him like never before.

Zim worked on a broken signal locator in his lab. Gir had destroyed it in when he tried to pour cake batter into it, and now Zim was stuck repairing the thing. It wasn't a priority device since Irkens never came to earth besides Zim, but working on a low-pressure device gave Zim time to think.

Right now his thoughts were worrying him. The Tallests had been giving him a lot of stuff lately. Mostly it was horrible gruel and his hideous yet still treasured sweater. He wondered why they were suddenly taking such an active hand in his conquest.

What if...What if I'm taking too long to destroy the earth? Zim thought with dread. Maybe they think I'm slow! That the mighty ZIM is being bested by pitiful humans! No, mustn't think that. They know Zim is powerful, and that soon I shall have these pig-smellies bowing at my feet. Soon the Irken Empire shall have this world, and all Irken kind will praise me!

"I AM ZIM!" Zim suddenly shouted into the silent room to dispel his doubts.

After working on the PAK locator beacon for some time with no successful results, Zim went out to the front door to check for his usual package. They came with such regularity that Zim was beginning to predict them. When he opened the door however he didn't see a large box, but rather an envelope taped to his door with the words ZIM written in formal Irken script.

"Ooh, I wonder what it is?" Zim said excitedly as he ripped through the envelope.

"Is it a taco?" Gir asked eagerly.

"No Gir, it isn't a taco, and it isn't for you!" Zim snapped as he clutched the letter tighter, "This is ZIM'S mail, not yours. Mine."

Gir looked sad for a moment, but then scampered off into the kitchen to play with one of his many rubber piggie toys. Zim opened the envelope, and as he read the letter, he could hardly believe what he was reading...

Dear Zim,

We are very disappointed in you.

"NOOOO!" Zim screamed, "I knew it! This is about the mission, ISN'T IT!? I have failed my Tallest! NOOOO!"

After that outburst Zim continued to read. He had to know what he had done to upset his leaders, and whether or not he was going back to Foodcourtia for this.

We gave you a coveted mission, and a special ducky sweater. We have done everything we can to help you succeed and show you we care, and how do you repay us? You only call us to give progress reports, and even then you don't do it that often. You never call just to say hello or tell us about your day. You never come to our ship to visit. Is it too much to ask to see your face and hear your voice after all we've done for you? We hope you at least have the decency to feel a little bit bad about this.

Love,

The Tallests

"Oh, my poor Tallest!" Zim wailed, "They miss me! How could I have not seen it? They really do care, and they want more messages from ZIM! Well, I can fix this easily, and then they'll be happy again."

Zim then went to his large screen terminal in his lab and began to dial the Tallests. He knew time was of the essence, because if they stayed angry with him he could end up on janitorial detail on planet Dirt or back in his old fry cook job. They probably wouldn't kill him though. If the last week taught Zim anything it was that he was the Tallests' favorite invader.


"Turn it off!" Tallest Red screamed demandingly.

"I can't My Tallest!" The communications chief replied in distress, "He just keeps calling!"

"It's been five hours!" Purple shouted in misery, "Maybe we should just accept the transmission and see what he wants!"

"No! We can outlast him," Red hissed through gritted teeth, "After all, how urgent could a message from Zim be? We can wait him out."

Seven hours later...

"Alright fine!" Red suddenly screamed amid the blaring incoming transmission noise, "Answer it already!"

The technician pushed the button and Zim's face came through the screen. He didn't realize they had picked up however so he kept pushing the call button while yelling "My Tallest!"

Red groaned in frustration and Purple hugged his jumbo bag of donut holes to comfort himself amid the sound of Zim's horrible voice. They could feel it, this was going to be a long one.

"PLEASE ANSWER ME MY TALLEST!" Zim screamed desperately while not yet opening his eyes to see they were watching him.

"ZIM!" Red barked, and Zim looked at them with happiness before giving a proper salute to his leader, "We can hear you. We're here. Now, what do you want?"

"Greetings My Tallest," Zim replied with a big grin, "I have called to tell you about my day. After I woke up this morning I ate some disgusting human cereal. It's nowhere near as healthy as the gruel supplement, but it suffices. Then I went down to the lab to work on my Irken PAK locator device that was destroyed by Gir. Then I read the letter. By the way, I apologize, My Tallest."

Purple considered asking what he was apologizing for, but this oddly mundane status report was taking long enough already. Besides, Red looked like he was ready to pop a blood vessel after 12 hours of Zim trying to contact them.

"After the letter I dialed your number," Zim continued, "Then I dialed it again. Then I dialed it again. Then I screamed. Then I dialed it again. After that I dialed your number again. Then I dialed it again. Then I dialed it..."

"Is he really going to tell us each and every time he dialed our number?" Red whispered to Purple.

"Looks like it," Purple whispered back, "Maybe we can put it on mute."

"Then I dialed it again," Zim continued unphased, "Then I wondered where I put my wrench. Then I dialed your number again. After that I dialed your number. Then Gir sat on my head as I dialed your number again. By the way, I think Gir might be broken. Oh, I almost forgot to mention this part, when I was dialing your number I remembered to eat some leftover gruel. The cauldrons are a nice touch. After I ate I dialed your number again. Then I-"

The technician muted the transmission. The Tallests would've preferred to hang up on Zim, but then the annoying little pest would just call back over and over again until he could finish his repetitive story about calling them, and then he would have to add more times he called them because they had hung up on him. Ultimately, they had to be content with the silent bridge and pretending they were listening to Zim's long boring prattle.


Jeem was back home in her mansion after over a week of absence. She noticed some of her silverware was missing, but it wasn't like she cared about that stuff anyway. She could always buy more. Still, she would have to check the security feed to find out who the traitor was that stole from her.

During her visit with the grandchildren she had delivered several packages and even more letters to Zim's house. It was all part of her plan to make Zim distrust his leaders and hate earth so much that he would forsake his mission and leave. It was a small victory and a slow burn, but it was the best idea Jeem could think of that wouldn't endanger Dib in any way.

These techniques for guilt-tripping a subject into hatred were not new to Jeem. In fact they were taken from Membrane's journal from back when he was a teenager. He often wrote about his visits from his mother, and the things about her that he hated the most. Among these complaints was her controlling how he dressed, controlling what he ate, and making him feel bad about himself using shame and guilt-based pressure. She had driven her son away, and now she would drive away the Irken Empire.

Well, maybe not right away. After all, it was a two and a half hour drive to where her family lived. Maybe Dib could take care of Zim for a while, and she would just send the occasional package to the little green monster. She just hoped her disgusting slurry formula was enough to weaken the little jerk enough to keep him from killing Dib.

Jeem took the elevator in her house down to her basement level. No one was allowed down here except for her, not even her cleaning staff. Everything in the basement was dusty and metallic, but Jeem didn't care. It was her special place, and no intruders would soil it.

She traversed the huge flat terrained lower level until she found the door she wanted. She went inside, and sitting innocently in a display box was a steel and pink half circle object with small wires hanging limply from the bottom.

Jeem sighed and looked at the object with such sadness and loss. Her chair reached the object and she gently rubbed her hand across its surface. Sighing again, Jeem connected a wire from somewhere on her person to the flat side of the shell-like orb. She smiled contentedly as memories began to play across her mind. It was almost like being there.

There was Membrane and his new wife on their wedding day. It was the reception and everyone had champagne glasses in their hands. Membrane wore a white suit with a high collar and his blue contacts. His wife's purple hair was tied in a bun and she looked so happy. She smashed cake in his face while he wasn't looking, and he laughed and returned the volley in kind.

It was strange to see this memory as if she were there. Jeem had not attended Membrane's wedding. In fact, she had never met his wife at all. They certainly looked happy together. Membrane looked so light, so carefree, so...normal. Jeem never got to see him like this, so candid and so happy. The memory felt warm. It was obvious the owner of this memory had treasured it.

Then the bride danced with her father, an old man with a bald head and mustache. Jeem wondered if Membrane would dance with Gaz on her wedding day, or if the girl would even bother finding someone to love. Gaz looked just like her mother, and even Dib had his mother's cinnamon brown eyes.

What was Membrane's wife's name again?

Leena. The database helpfully supplied.

Ah, yes. Leena. Thank you Kloee.