Zim For President
Chapter 10: space
"Mr. President Man! We have a situation!" someone shouted after storming into the office of the Wite Howz, only to find President Man surrounded by loads of cans and wearing a cable like a mayoral sash. "…..what are you even doing?" the confused person asked.
"Business, SERIOUS BUSINESS." President Man replied, making a fort out of empty cans. "I am NOT TO BE INTERRUPTED." he ordered before putting on a pair of furry slippers and adorning his head with a frying pan.
"But Mister President Man, sir! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY." The random extra replied frantically.
"Who are you and why are you in my house?"
"THE INTERNET WANTS US TO DO SOMETHING!" The random extra yelled, waving his arms in distress. "QUICK, EVERYONE! TO THE NUCLEAR VAULT THINGY! WE MUST LIVE THERE IN HIDING AND REPOPULATE THE EARTH ONCE THIS BLOWS OVER!"
"Hold on a minute, random extra…." President Man replied, still wearing the frying pan on his head. "What does the internet want us to do? And WHY should we pay attention to them?"
"They're getting all worked up about child soldiers and stuff, and they…they're MUTATING INTO SOCIAL ACTIVISTS. They're watching moving 30 minute videos, they're telling their friends, and they're LIKING PAGES ON FACEBOOK."
"IMPOSSIBLE! Wait….that's it?"
"yes, DOES IT NOT ALARM YOU?"
"Not really. It doesn't seem like they're doing much."
"DO YOU NOT FEEL COMPELLED TO TAKE ACTION IN THE NAME OF SOCIAL JUSTICE?"
"Nah, I have SERIOUS BUSINESS to take care of first. Go away." President Man said, returning to the vast amount of cans lying around his office.
"Screw you." The random extra said, defeated. "THE INTERNET ALWAYS WINS IN THE END." He screeched as he was being thrown out the door by bird flu-infected bodyguards.
Meanwhile, in an underground facility with a silly and difficult to type name…..
"SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—
*6 hours later*
AAAAAAAAAAAACE-!"
"Are you quite done, malfunctioning spherical intelligence?"
"SPACE."
"Stop that."
"WANNA GO TO SPACE."
"Stop it."
"SPAAAAAAACE!"
"MAKE SILENCE NOW!"
"Space."
"SHUT UP."
"Must. See. SPACE."
"AAARGH!" Zim cried. He'd just about had it. He was confined to a tiny cell that resembled a bird-cage, he was up to his head with the bleating of humans whose hands had been eaten, a hat-wearing llama from Mike's elite squad had eaten one of his gloves and he was stuck with a VERY LOUD ROBOT THAT WAS SO NOISY, INSANE AND OBNOXIOUS THAT IT MADE GIR SEEM LIKE A WELCOME ALTERNATIVE. He felt like clawing his own antennae out, he was so irritated. What on Irk had he been thinking when he'd chosen to befriend this hyperactive lump of metal? Judging by his current situation, not much.
He heard footsteps ahead. He hoped to god it wasn't another hat-wearing hand-eating llama. As the footsteps grew closer, Zim's spacey friend grew silent and the figure came closer to reveal….
"DIB-WORM! Why are you here, you wasteful lump of pig-meat!"
"Oh, I was just, y'know, passin' by….happened to come across the secret underground prison of your arch-rival….thought I'd go in, see if they WOULD LISTEN TO ME WITHOUT TELLING ME THAT MY HEAD IS BIG AND THAT I'M CRAZY!"
"Keep it down, unless you want your hands eaten by a squad if rabid llamas."
"Llamas?"
"HAT-WEARING LLAMAS."
"That's nice. NOW TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW ABOUT MIKE THE HEADLESS CHICKEN!"
"No." Zim refused. At this, Dib yanked a nearby fire extinguisher from the wall and pointed it at Zim.
"TELL ME. Or you can deal with all the terrors of being held prisoner AND be covered in FOAMY STUFF. And speaking of you being imprisoned, how's that working out for you?"
"Quite well, dib-human. I have already determined a suitable escape route and planned my next move against the opposing political parties. I even saw a moose."
"Then why were you whacking your head against the bars of your cage so frantically just a moment ago?"
"I do not have to answer that question, as I am far superior to worthless multi-cellular child organisms such as yourself."
"Then answer this one: WHAT DID YOU DO THAT PROVOKED MIKE ENOUGH TO THROW YOU IN PRISON?"
"I had Gir dress up like a dragon."
"Why?"
"Because I am your mighty leader."
Dib facepalmed. He couldn't get a straight answer, but what had he expected? That the alien just tell him everything? It looked like he'd have to resort to more drastic measures. He readied the fire extinguisher, noticing the warning sign printed on its side; WARNING: HIGHLY CONCENTRATED MEATYOXIDE. KEEP OUT OF REACH OF MIDGET LEPERS. Well, that was helpful. It seemed that this fire extinguisher actually contained the most powerful meat alloy known to man, so he'd have tons of fun just squirting it all over the alien's horrid green face.
"I've been wanting to do this for a VERY long time, alien…." Dib grinned evily. He put down the fire extinguisher and grabbed a nearby stick and started poking Zim in the eyes with it.
"You've always been saying that I have a huge head. WELL YOU HAVE FRIGGIN' HUGE EYES, YOU FREAK. AND THEY'RE PINK. THAT'S DISGUSTING. SOMEHOW." He yelled whilst continuously jabbing Zim. Zim was just sitting real still-like. Apparently Irkens cease all bodily functions once poked in the eyes.
"...are you quite finished, you snivelling, stick-wielding earth-monster?" Zim asked once the poking stopped. He was answered by receiving another violent poke to the eye.
"TELL ME." Dib demanded.
"Tell you what?"
"Mike's one and only-"
"What?"
"Mike's-
"WHAT?"
"BE QUIET, ALIEN SCUM! OR ELSE I WILL SPRAY YOU WITH FIRST-GRADE HIGH-CONCENTRATION MEATIOXIDE! AND THEN IF IT DOES NOT KILL YOU I WILL SHOW YOU DISTURBING SLASH FICTION AND CREEPY PAIRINGS!"
Zim shut up for once.
"Now tell me Mike's greatest weakness."
"INTERNET-STEALING DRAGONS. NOW YOU WILL LEAVE ZIM TO PLOT ESCAPE IN PEACE! GO AWAY!"
"Okay. But next time we meet, you'll only be behind another set of bars, Zim."
"LIES! YOU CANNOT DEFEAT MEE! I HAVE GREAT PLANS! THEY ARE FOOLPROOF! FOOLPROOF I SAY!"
Dib ignored Zim's yelling, having gotten what he'd come for. He left hastily, fearing that his hands could be eaten by llamas at any minute.
Zim kicked the space sphere (which had somehow made its way into Zim's cage) furiously. He STILL had no idea on how he was going to escape this place. Since silence had finally fallen throughout the prison, he was able to hear the faint sound of water somewhere far off. Looking up, he saw a fishbowl dangling off the ceiling by a chain. Inside was a weird black goldfish-monster. It was making weird noises; wub wub wub…
"Identify yourself, water teatray!" Zim ordered the goldfish.
"wub wub wub."
"IDENTIFY YOURSELF!"
"I am the Dubstep Fish. I shall grant you three wishes, wub wub."
"Why are you here, water teatray of earsplitting noise?"
"Because I ran for president, wub wub."
"A GOLDFISH SHOULD NEVER BE PRESIDENT!" Zim screeched, picking up the space sphere and throwing it with such force that it crashed through the bars of the cage and smashed the dangling fishbowl, leaving the Dubstep Fish floundering on the floor.
"wub wub….wub….tell my children I loathe them…wub….wub…" The Dubstep Fish said just before it was carried into the sky by a shiny escalator.
"Just as planned." Zim said, stepping through the gaping hole in his cell and making a run for it.
He had some politics to do.
AN/ THE DUBSTEP FISH SHALL GRANT ALL REVIEWERS THREE WISHES, WITH HILARIOUS CONSEQUENCES!
Or my name isn't THE GREAT KING OF NEW SPAIN.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have SERIOUS BUSINESS to do. *arms self with frying pan*