Zim looked up at the fuehrer, and found himself to be unimpressed. Instead of coming face to face with an evil dictator, Zim found himself looking at a rather normal human with funny facial hair. He looked up at the averagely heighted fuehrer, and said the first thing that came into his head. 'You seem very... short.'

'What?!' Hitler nearly exploded. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'I'm sorry, sir.' The Obersturmbannfuhrer kicked Zim to the side as he hurried to ensure that Hitler wasn't too upset by the comment. 'Despite its intelligence, it doesn't seem to understand the chain of command. Or manners.' He gave Zim a Look, which Zim completely ignored, staring at the wall and seeming to ignore the conversation.

'You should have trained it better.' Hitler seemed to be pouting slightly.

'Of course, sir. I assure you, after this meeting is over, he will be punished for his rudeness.'

This seemed to have mollified the fuehrer somewhat. 'Now then,' Hitler crouched down slightly to look Zim in the eyes. 'What is this?' He had been given notes on it earlier in the week, but had only skimmed through them, and had forgotten most of it already.

'I am an-' Zim was cut off by a suddenly screaming fuehrer. 'I did not ask you! You will not talk to me unless I tell you to!' Zim tried to back away from the slightly acidic spit flying from the mouth of the German leader, but was held in place by the Obersturmbannfuhrer's hands on his shoulders.

'He's an Irken, sir.' This time the reply came from the right person.

'And where is it from?'

'Irk, sir. Apparently it's a planet far away from earth.'

Hitler seemed to find this rather amusing. 'Himmler will be disappointed.' He stood up and walked around Zim, pushing the Obersturmbannfuhrer out of the way as he did. He stopped in front of Zim and squatted down, then reached out a hand and grabbed one of Zim's antenna.

Zim held his hands tight at the intrusion made by the human. This human should be thought of as a tallest, despite his height. And human-ness. And hair, though he seemed to have less of it than some other humans, and a weird patch of it on his face. The smell was also awful, though Zim managed to stop himself from shuddering at the proximity of the human. Of course he still couldn't stop himself from pushing the human away when he squeezed the antenna he was holding.

'Let go!' Zim barked out, slapping the fuehrer's hand out of his personal space. He tried to take a step backwards, only for the grip on his shoulders to return and tighten. He suddenly realised how much danger he was in. This was the human that had almost committed genocide. Zim remembered that he didn't want to be on its bad side.

The Obersturmbannfuhrer held Zim tightly by the shoulders. He should have had him tied up, now look at what he had done! He saw Hitler start to redden in rage. He would be lucky if he got out of here with his job still around. He would be even luckier if he was still got to hold the job.

'Sir.' he said, hoping to cut Hitler off with an offer of biscuits before the rage started off. They were ginger nuts, so he should like them.

'What!?'

'Would you like a biscuit?' He removed a hand from Zim's shoulder and picked up the plate from the table.

'What sort are they!' The question was less asked then it was screamed.

'They're ginger nuts, sir. Made especially for you.'

'Ooooh.' Hitler picked one off the plate and took a dainty nibble from it. The fuehrer, having been calmed somewhat, looked at the Obersturmbannfuhrer. 'You said you had trained it.'

'He is trained, just very temperamental. I think you got in his space.'

'You should train it better. I would not let one of my dogs behave like that.' He took another nibble of the biscuit.

'Hey!' Zim shouted. 'Zim is no animal! Zim does not need training! Hey! Hey! Listen to me!!!' They were ignoring him, and he didn't like it. Nor did he like how they were talking about him needing training, like he was an animal. An animal that could be taken apart at any moment for study. He had to resist the urge to show visible fear.

'Hmmm.' Hitler looked down at Zim. 'You say it's intelligent?'

'Yes, sir. We have it working on some projects for us.'

Hitler bent down again, and slipped on a pair of glasses. 'So you came from space.' He asked Zim, speaking in a loud, slow voice. He picked up Zim's hand, holding it tightly despite Zims attempts to pull away, and started studying it. 'How did you arrive here?'

Zim ignored the human touching his hand, and tried not to flinch too much. He didn't like contact. 'I flew.'

'Do you have your plane here still?' Hitler was suddenly looking Zim in the eyes.

'Eh? What plane?'

'The one you came to the planet in.'

'Oh no.' Zim tried to use the break in concentration to take his hand back from Hitler. 'I lost it.' It was said in an off-handed manner, as all Zims concentration was on his hand.

'Liar!' Hitler violently threw Zims hand away. 'You would not just lose your only way off the planet.'

'It crashed!' Zim was rubbing his hand to try and get the feeling of touching off it. 'Into the mountain.'

'Which mountains?' If Hitler could get the space plane first, he could use it against the Russians.

Zim pointed in a vague direction. 'Those mountains.'

Hitler squinted then stood up. He turned to the guard who had come in with him. 'Find out where the plane crashed. Use any means possible.' He then indicated to the guards to take Zim from the room, and sat down in the armchair, nibbling on another biscuit.

Zim was dragged from the room, screaming at the humans about how the plane had broken into a million itty-bitty pieces. The Obersturmbannfuhrer was standing still in shock. By any means possible would probably kill Zim, or at least make it so he couldn't work on anything for quite a while. He had a hurried conversation with the fuehrer, in which Zims' future usefulness was discussed, along with how he would be useless if he was unable to work. Hitler considered this for a few moments, then agreed to this logic. The further statement that Zim could build him his own space plane, and would start on the plans immediately, also helped to push the fuehrer's decision. 45 seconds after the guards and Zim left the room, the Obersturmbannfuhrer hurried after them, slightly annoyed at having to act as messenger boy.

'He's to be unharmed,' he said to the soldiers. 'By order of the fuehrer,' he added, because they looked about to mutiny and start torturing the noisy midget regardless. The soldiers let go of Zim roughly, and pushed him away.

'Good.' Zim brushed his clothes straight. 'Finally somebody here understands my true worth.' Zim ignored that it was the Fuhrer who had ordered him off to be tortured in the first place. Tallests were unpredictable, and the only thing that really mattered was their last order. 'Now, take me back to your leader.' He strode off down the corridor, feeling a hand on his shoulder spin him in the opposite direction, and sent him that way.

'It's the other way,' said the Obersturmbannfuhrer, following closely behind Zim.

When they made it back to the room, Zim was surprised by the sight of some very familiar papers spread out on the table, with the bespectacled fuehrer reading over them. 'What are those doing here!' he shrieked.

Fritz hurried over to Zim. 'Zim, the fuehrer is very impressed by your weapons and tank designs. Why don't you explain your genius to him?' Fritz had learnt that flattery, no matter how insincere, was one of the best ways to get Zim to do anything.

'Yes, you wouldn't be able to figure them out for yourself.' Zim went over to the papers.

'This is my tank design.' He looked at it proudly. 'I based it on your old Panzer tanks, but it's much better than they are. It's able to stand a direct strike much better and-.' Zim was cut off.

'What is this weapon?' Hitler asked, rather brusquely, pulling a blueprint design from the pile.

Zim was taken aback slightly by the tone, but recovered himself. 'That's just a laser rifle.' It was just a plan for one, and Zim knew that the humans didn't have the electrical power needed to make one that could be portable. They were also lacking most of the materials needed to make it powerful enough to be effective. He had tried often enough when attempting repairs on his spiderlegs. 'It's not very good for war.' He leaned over and shuffled the papers, pulling out a single, almost incomprehensibly scribbled on design. 'This is much better.' He lay the paper out proudly, causing all in the room to look over interestedly. Only Fritz could make the smallest bit of sense out of it.

'What is it?' Hitler peered over the design, unable to make the slightest bit of sense out of it.

'This is an aplar cannon.' Zim grinned at it, and stared searching through more papers. 'and this is a aplar gun.' He pulled out a blue print for a gun that looked vaguely similar to the tommy guns of previous years. 'If you had these weapons to use then the war would be over in a few weeks. Nobody would be able to stand in your way, and the world would be yours by the end of the decade!'

'Hmmph!' Hitler was not pleased with the designs, or Zims boasts. 'That is an old weapon. We got rid of these years ago, replaced them with more up-to-date technology.' He laughed. 'And you have a cannon design. They were out of date before the last war. If this is the best you can come up with, then you can't be as intelligent as they say.'

'What!' Zim was shocked. 'If you have these weapons, the war will be over by next year! Nothing on the planet could come close to these guns, and nothing can protect against them.'

'Why? What is in these "aplar guns" that is so special?'

Zim grinned. 'Aplar guns fire a really really good melty liquid thing.' He waved his hand around to try and get the message across to the humans with words they didn't have, or he didn't know. 'It melts, eh, or burns everything it touches, really quickly.'

'Can it burn through metal?'

Zim laughed. 'Metal? Of course it can burn through lead.' He was still chuckling.

'How long would it take you to make it?' Hitler was looking at Zim in absolute seriousness.

'Uhhh...' Zim was caught off balance. 'It may take me a while... I don't know what chemicals you have that could be used to make the aplar liquid, or even if you have the right chemicals and materials for storage. Maybe a year?'

'You have eight months.' He turned to Fritz. 'You will make a model of this tank by February, and I want to have them on the production lines and in Russia by June.'

He stood up and shook the Obersturmbannfuhrer's hand. 'If anything happens to prevent the new guns from being made, you will be held responsible.' He turned to leave the room.

'Hey! Hey! Wait!' Zim had thought of a question. 'What if I don't have it made in eight months?'

Hitler shrugged. 'We'll give you over to the scientists.' He left the room, with his guard following him on his heels.

Zim collapsed to his knees. He was going to die.