A/N: And here's my inner Troper acting up a little. I really think Zim could be a more successful villain if he just slowed down and thought things through a little better (something that the existence of Emperor Zim kinda proves). And what's the best way to improve a villain's competency? Hence, this.
Disclaimer: Invader Zim and all related characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez. The Evil Overlord List, like Slenderman, belongs to the Internet.
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Entry 9: Zim's Evil Overlord List
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Zim sat at his central computer terminal, staring up at the main screen. Having spent hours in his scheming nook and having not come up with any new ideas for conquering Earth, he was searching the Internet for inspiration. Humans might be stupid, filthy little worm-babies, but their invention of such a massive information-sharing mechanism was ingenious, and Zim just knew that somewhere within it, he would find the key to finally destroying them once and for all.
That being said, the network was also full of a lot of useless information — seriously, who needed to see that many pictures of kittens? So, that was making the search a bit more difficult. And the less said about some of the more disgusting stuff Zim had found, the better.
"Come on, there has to be something worthwhile in here," Zim muttered angrily, "They have videos of singing bananas and dancing dogs, but not a single document detailing the weaknesses of their global defense network? What kind of stupid… eh, what's this?"
Zim's gaze fell on a specific link on the search page he was looking over. One that read "The Evil Overlord List".
"What is this list of evil overlords? Tell Zim!" Zim demanded of the Computer.
"The Evil Overlord List is a list of rules and guidelines put together to lay out how one can be a successful conqueror and dictator without making the common mistakes that usually lead to downfalls," the Computer explained.
"Hmm, this could be useful," Zim mused, rubbing his chin, "Not that Zim ever makes mistakes, but perhaps this could help make me better at not being a mistake… uh, making person."
"Right," the Computer said dryly, "You do realize that this list is based on fiction and is meant to be entirely comedic?"
"Silence! Zim will decide what is useful and what is not!" Zim snapped, before clicking on the link. As the list loaded, one of Zim's eyes squinted in concentration while he looked it over.
"Huh, that's a lot of rules. Oh well, I'll simply skim them and pick whichever ones are most useful. Now, let's see…"
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Rule #2: My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.
"Phew, there we go," Zim said, wiping some sweat off his brow as he stepped away from the last of the vents he'd worked all day on narrowing, "Now the vents are all far too small for Dib's big head to ever sneak in by."
"You know, you could have just asked me to automatically shrink all the vents, you didn't have to do it manually," the Computer pointed out.
"You dare only tell Zim this now?" Zim demanded angrily.
"I told you ten times," the Computer replied.
Growling, Zim threw the wrench in his hand aside. It flew across the room, slamming into a jar of honey GIR had left lying around. It fell over and shattered and, surprisingly, a large group of bees came flying out, buzzing angrily.
"AHH! Bees!" Zim yelled. In a panic, he instinctively threw himself at the nearest exit, which happened to be the vent. Which, of course, was now so small that he got stuck with his head halfway in, the rest of him stuck dangling in midair for the bees to target.
"Ah! Gah! Computer, help me!" Zim ordered, as he was repeatedly stung.
The Computer would later claim that the ten minute delay in obeying that order was due to a virus.
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Rule #6: I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.
Dib was held suspended in the air by chains, over a large vat of boiling acid. Zim smirked from where he was standing nearby, holding the remote control that would lower him into the vat. He opened his mouth to issue a scathing bit of gloating about his superiority and victory, but remembered the rule about this and reluctantly pressed the button, beginning the process of lowering Dib.
"Hey, wait a minute! What happened to the gloating before you do this? You always gloat first!" Dib shouted, surprised at his nemesis skipping a standard step of their conflicts.
"Not anymore, Dib-Stink. Zim is following the rules now, and that means no pointless-yet-fun gloating!"
"Rules? Wait, you mean those stupid online rules?" Dib asked as he continued to slowly lower towards the acid, "I'm going to get killed because you're obeying a bunch of rules that were made up for fun?"
"That's right, human! And there's nothing you can do about it!" Zim laughed, slipping into the gloating anyway. Thus distracting himself, he failed to notice that Dib was taking advantage of his slow descent to start swinging around like a pendulum. By the time he reached the actual opening of the vat, he was far enough out to land safely on the outer ledge.
Lowering the chains holding him into the acid in order to eat through them, Dib quickly freed himself. He then hopped down to the ground and kicked the vat, knocking it over and spilling its contents towards Zim, who just finishing up his laugh.
"AHHH!" Zim screamed, quickly turning and running from the wave of acid.
"Word of advice, Zim!" Dib called after him, "If you're going to follow those rules, you have to actually follow them completely!"
With that, Dib turned and walked away, whistling.
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Rule #9: I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labelled "Danger: Do Not Push". Similarly, the "ON/OFF" switch will not be labelled as such.
Zim powered up his new Doom Cannon, which he had built to the list's specifications, which meant it was certain to ensure his conquest of Earth. As such, he was surprised when it suddenly started sparking, beams of energy shooting out randomly and bouncing around the room.
"Oh, come on!" Zim yelled as he threw himself to the floor to dodge the blasts and started crawling towards the Cannon's control panel, "Stupid third-rate Vortian technology. I'll skin 777 for this!"
Reaching the panel, Zim stood up and reached to switch the machine off so he could fix it, only to hit a snag.
"Where'd I put the off switch?!" he screeched, looking at all the unmarked buttons and switches adorning the control panel. Panicking as the Cannon continued to blow holes in his base, Zim started hitting buttons at random, but all he did was adjust the power of the blasts and the Cannon's angle. Then his finger jabbed at a small button off to the side of the panel.
BOOM!
The Cannon promptly exploded in Zim's face, the force of the blast throwing him across the room and knocking him out when he slammed into the wall.
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Rule #10: I will not interrogate my enemies in my inner sanctum — a small hotel will work just as well.
Zim used his PAK legs to tower over the police officer tied to a chair in the rundown motel room.
"Now, law drone," Zim hissed, "You are going to tell me every single detail of this city's emergency protocols. And if you don't-"
A knock cut Zim off. Frowning, he slapped a gag into the police officer's mouth, withdrew his PAK legs, and stomped over to the room's door.
"What?!" he yelled as he opened the door, revealing the motel's manager, a weaselly-looking man in a cheap suit.
"Sir, we ran the credit card you gave us, and it doesn't appear to be valid," the manager said with a nasally voice, "So, unless you can provide some other means of payment, we're going to have to ask you to leave."
"Gah, fine, here! Now go away!" Zim snapped, tossing a wad of bills in the man's face. He then shut the door and started to turn back to his captive, only to growl in annoyance as the door was knocked again.
"What else do you want?! Zim gave you your monies!" the Invader yelled, reopening the door.
"Sir, this isn't nearly enough to cover your expenses," the manager said, holding up what Zim had given him, "Especially since half of these aren't even bills. There are coupons, candy wrappers, fortune cookie notes…"
"Zim doesn't care! Make do and leave me be!"
"But-"
Zim didn't let the manager finish his complaint. Instead, he grabbed the man, lifted him in the air, and tossed him over the nearby railing to land in the dirty swimming pool below. Zim then slammed the door shut and walked back over to his prisoner.
"Now then, where were we?" he asked sinisterly, only for an eye to twitch as the door was suddenly pounded on. Snarling, Zim marched over to the door and practically wrenched it off its hinges as he opened it.
"How many times must- uh…" the Irken's rant cut off into an awkward silence as he found himself staring up at two massive security guards.
The subsequent beating was too violent for words.
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Rule #12: One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.
Zim looked back and forth between the pad in his hands carrying the outline of his newest plan and where GIR was sitting on the couch, watching Floopsy Bloops Shmoopsy. He was debating whether this was the best way to handle this particular rule.
"Meh, he's about as smart as a five-year-old," he muttered, before walking up to the robot, "GIR! This is an outline of my latest plan. Review it, and let me know what you think. Here's a pen to make notes with."
GIR's eyes flashed red and he saluted, before taking the pad and pen and staring at the plan intently. To Zim's pleasant surprise, he started scribbling away extensively at the pad. Apparently, he had a lot of thoughts about the plan.
"I made a kitty!" GIR exclaimed, holding up the pad and revealing the crude drawing he'd made all over Zim's careful written down plans.
Zim facepalmed, deciding that this rule maybe wasn't one worth following.
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Rule #20: Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it's easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.
"…" Zim stared at this rule in total silence, eye twitching slightly.
"You know, if you'd followed this one, that whole 'dip Dib in acid' plan probably would have worked," the Computer commented.
"Be quiet! Or Zim will fill your circuits with cheese and hamsters!"
"Uh, okay?"
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Rule #28: My pet monster will be kept in a secure cage from which it cannot escape, and into which I could not accidentally stumble.
Zim stood atop a giant cage, containing a Meekrob Scuttling Flesh-Render, and sneered down at where Dib was staring up in shock and fear.
"And now, Dib-Monkey, prepare to face your doom!" Zim declared, "Flesh-Render, devour him!"
Dib turned to run, but after a few feet realized nothing was chasing him. Turning around, he saw that the Flesh-Render was throwing itself against the bars, but couldn't get free of the cage. For his part, Zim looked embarrassed as he realized this.
"Er, um, give me a minute," he said, climbing down to where the cage's door lock was, and started jiggling it. When nothing happened, he fumed, and started patting himself down.
"Where did I put that Irk-damned key?!" Zim shouted, as he turned his pockets inside out looking for it.
"…Okay," Dib said after a few minutes of awkwardly standing around watching Zim look for a way of letting the Flesh-Render out, "I'm, uh, just going to leave now."
Zim didn't seem to hear him, as he was too busy trying to use his PAK legs to try and cut the unbreakable cage bars. So, after another awkward moment of silence, Dib turned and quickly walked away.
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Rule #29: I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.
Everyone in Miss Bitters' classroom stared at Zim as he entered the room. The Invader had ditched his usual uniform, and was instead wearing a shirt of alternating neon-bright blue and yellow stripes, and pink pants and gloves, as well as a rainbow afro wig.
"Behold Zim's new clothing!" he said, "You may now all cower in confusion and fear at my superiority!"
Instead, to his surprise, everyone started laughing at him.
"What a freak!" Chunk said, throwing a massive spitwad at Zim. The Irken sputtered and ripped it off, glaring at the large child.
"How dare you?! Zim will rain doom down upon you, and-"
"Zim!" Miss Bitters screeched, as she swooped over to loom over him, "Bright, happy colors are strictly forbidden on Skool grounds. Go to the Underground Classrooms now!"
"But, I-AAAHHH!" Zim tried to protest, only for a trapdoor to open beneath him. He then fell down it, disappearing into the depths of the Skool.
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Rule #35: I will not grow a goatee. In the old days they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.
Zim rubbed his chin experimentally as he read this rule.
"Is this even an issue?" the Computer asked, "I mean, Irkens don't grow facial hair, right? Or any hair, for that matter."
"Of course not!" Zim said condescendingly, "Don't you know anything about your own creators? We don't have such disgusting pointless biological features. Therefore, we cannot grow… wait a minute! My future self had a beard!"
Extending a cable from his PAK and tapping it into the console, Zim accessed his memory files of his encounter with his future self. Looking up at the displayed pictures, Zim frowned as he zoomed in on Emperor Zim's chin, and the pointy beard extending from it.
"Is that real? It doesn't look real," the Computer commented, "It looks glued on."
"Eh, it probably is," Zim said, crossing his arms in thought, "Just like he was only taller than me because he wore heels. He probably stuck that thing on to look more intimidating. What a fool! Who does he think he is?"
"…You?" the Computer replied, tentatively.
"Silence!"
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Rule #38: If an enemy I have just killed has a younger sibling or offspring anywhere, I will find them and have them immediately, instead of waiting them to grow up harboring feelings of vengeance towards me in my old age.
"So, why am I here again?" Gaz asked, annoyed, from where she was being restrained to a table in Zim's lab, "Usually you just target Dib for your stupid plans."
"Zim has recently discovered a list of rules you humans have put together for conquerors, and is following them," Zim explained, looming over her.
"Which has worked out so well so far," the Computer commented dryly.
"You stay out of this!" Zim snapped, before turning back to Gaz, "Anyway, one of the rules says to eliminate all the relatives of your enemies so they don't come after you in vengeance after your victory. It actually says to do this after dealing with your enemies, but I figure dealing with the Dib-Stink will be easier without you around."
"You know I couldn't care less if you actually somehow killed Dib, right?" Gaz asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Yes, well, Zim isn't taking chances," the Invader replied with a shrug, "Also, I don't like you. So, any last words, Gaz-Beast?"
"Yeah. Bored now," the Goth replied calmly, before suddenly snapping her restraints. Before the stunned Irken could react, she grabbed him and started punching him in the face. Once it was more black and blue than green, she tossed him aside into a console, which he was electrocuted by as he smashed it with the impact. Gaz didn't even look over her shoulder to watch this as she walked over to the nearest elevator and took it up to the surface.
"You definitely should have seen that coming," the Computer commented, as Zim groaned in pain on the floor.
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Rule #48: I will treat any beast which I control through magic or technology with respect and kindness. Thus if the control is ever broken, it will not come after me in revenge.
"Good boy," Zim said, patting the head of the Battle Sloth while he fed it some treats with his other hand. It went against his every instinct to be so nice to anyone or thing, but he wanted to be sure that if it somehow got loose of its control collar, it wouldn't try and strike him down in a rage.
Of course, there was only one way to be certain that this was working. And that meant taking a risk.
"Alright, I'm going to take off its control collar now," he said to GIR and Minimoose, who were standing nearby, "If it tries to attack me, neutralize it. Understood?"
"Yes sir!" GIR said, eyes flashing red as he saluted.
"Squeak!" Minimoose confirmed as well.
Zim took a calming breath to prepare himself, then hit the deactivation switch on the Battle Sloth's control collar. The lights on the device flashed for a second, then it unlocked and fell away from the sloth's neck. The creature blinked stupidly, looking around in confusion, before its gaze fell on Zim, who was standing in front of it. Its eyes lit up in recognition, and it reared back on its hind legs and towered over him.
"Gah! It didn't work! Quick, at-OOF!" Zim's panicked order was cut off as the Battle Sloth suddenly caught him in a massive bear hug. But rather than try to crush, bite, or otherwise try to hurt him, the sloth instead held him close and reached down with its head to nuzzle him. Apparently, his conditioning had worked a little too well.
"D'aw, he likes you!" GIR cooed, Minimoose squeaking in agreement while Zim groaned and tried to breathe within the sloth's embrace.
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Rule #59: I will never build a sentient computer smarter than I am.
"Finally, an easy one!" Zim crowed, "After all, no mere machine could ever be smarter than Zim!"
"Uh huh," the Computer said tersely, "Just to clarify then — why do you need me to run every simulation of every experiment if you're so much smarter than I am?"
"Zim cannot be bothered with minor details!" Zim snapped, "Let's move on!"
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Rule #64: I will see a competent psychiatrist and get cured of all extremely unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits which could prove to be a disadvantage.
"So, why are you here today, Mr., uh, Zim?" Dr. P. H. Darby asked the short green man sitting on his office sofa.
"Zim has been advised that the best way to achieve my goals is to speak to one of you head-shrinking drones," the Invader currently disguised as an old man replied, "Even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with me. Stuff is wrong with everyone else for not seeing how amazing I am!"
"I see," Dr. Darby said, making a note, "Why don't we start with your childhood?"
"Er, okay, I guess. It all started when I was born…"
30 Minutes Later
"The horror! The horror!" Dr. Darby screamed incoherently as he was strapped to a gurney and loaded into an ambulance. Standing on the sidewalk, Zim watched as the ambulance drove away with a look of annoyance on his face.
"Darn it! That's the fifth one!"
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Rule #76: If the hero runs up to my roof, I will not run up after him and struggle with him in an attempt to push him over the edge.
"Zim, you idiot, get up here!" Dib yelled from Zim's roof. Zim, however, merely planted his hands on his hips defiantly.
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you, pig-smelly?" he sneered, "Then we could have an epic battle that you'd only win by cheating — because how else could you beat Zim? — and then throwing me to my doom. What, do you think Zim is stupid?"
"Since I'm only up here to get away from that army of rabid zombie rat people you let loose, yeah I do!" Dib exclaimed, gesturing to said army of rabid undead running around the cul-de-sac, "Now get up here so we can figure out how to stop this before they eat us both!"
"Never! Zim is not so foolish! Right, pal?" the Invader asked the random person standing next to him.
"HEESSS!" the zombie rat person screeched, before tackling Zim to the ground.
"No! Not my brain meats!"
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A couple dozen more attempts at following the rules later, and Zim sat slumped in his control room chair, bruised and battered.
"What an awful week," he moaned, "These stupid rules were totally useless! A hundred of them, and not a single one helped me the way they were supposed to!"
"Well, you know, there are more that other people have added on sites related to the original list," the Computer said smugly, "I could bring those up if you like…"
"No! Absolutely not!" Zim yelled, "I am through trying to take human advice on things! And Zim orders you to never mention any of this again!"
"Fine, whatever, just trying to help," the Computer replied, too sweetly.
Zim glared at the screens, before limping out of the room. The Computer watched him go, before chuckling to itself.
"Maybe once he cools down a little I can lead him to the Universal Genre Savvy Guide," it mused with a laugh.
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The End
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A/N: Honestly, I wanted to do the whole list, and I would have if I could have. But I just couldn't come up with Zim-related scenarios for most of them. Or at least not ones where it doesn't backfire on him in some way.
