Zim woke up, bleary eyed. He'd had the weirdest dream, something about Gir being a dog? It was already fading. Speaking of Gir, though... How on earth would they explain this to Gir's teacher? 'Oh, sorry Ms. Reeds, Gir is actually a robot abandoned on Earth by an alien five years ago.' Yeah. Like that would go over well. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. They were always so uncomfortable in the mornings, like something was stuck in them.

Finally rolling out of bed, Zim caught his reflection in the mirror. What if he was a robot? He inspected his hands. He didnt feel like a robot. Do robots feel? He ran a hand through his hair, did it feel like a wig? Or was that just his paranoia? There was a knock at his door. Zim wondered what Gir's life was like before he was abandoned. That alien must be some real jerk. Another knock. He'd have to call Gir in sick. Maybe he'd stay home as well. God knows he's going crazy with all of this incessant knocking.

"What?" Zim finally snapped at the third knock. He already knew it was the alien— Dib, he supposed— Gir would never knock.

"I—" The alien sounded confused. Zim threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants, not like he was going to school anyway, and opened the door. Dib was standing there, stunned.

"Are you going to stand in the way or can I leave my room?" Zim glared up at the alien. Dib was... tolerable. Sometimes. Definitely not before Zim's morning coffee, though.

"Yeah, I— Sorry, I'll move. Out of your way. Sorry." Dib stumbled over his words, backing out of his way while frantically rustling around in that weird robot pack of his for something or other. Zim honestly didn't care, closing the door behind him and heading down toward the kitchen.

"Zim!" Dib was jogging to catch up with him. Zim was really not awake enough for this. "Sorry. Again. We're going the same way."

"Noted."

"What are you doing?" The alien certainly was nosy this morning. Watching him like a hawk and noting down his every word.

"Coffee. Breakfast." Zim wasn't about to explain his entire morning routine, especially this early.

"Right." Dib scrawled something down on his weirdly high-tech writing tablet. "What is a cow-fee?"

"Cow-fee?" Zim couldn't help but chuckle, rounding the corner to the kitchen. "Coffee. Caw-fee. Its like..." Zim couldn't find the words. "It's a drink. It wakes you up. Gir loves the stuff." He set a pot up to brew, "I'm not the biggest fan of the taste, but I think I'm a bit addicted. I don't feel like myself until I've had a cup."

"You're telling me," Dib mumbled. Zim was sure he wasn't supposed to hear that, but he couldn't help but feel curious. What had the alien so worked up at 7 in the morning?

He ignored the thought at the beep of his coffee maker. Dib could be dealt with later. Right now he had to—

"Hi master!" Gir had somehow gotten to the piping hot pot of coffee before he did, downing the entire pot in just two gulps.

"I'm not your... master. God that sounds so weird. Don't call me that." Zim snatched the pot back from his brother— no, he chided himself, the robot. Not your brother.

Gir pouted, disappearing back to wherever he came from. It was like the little robot could just pop out of the wall at any moment. Zim glanced around, but couldn't find Gir anywhere. With a frustrated huff, he put the pot back, setting it up to brew again.

"So how do you feel about Gir?" Dib was still in the room for some reason, sitting at the table with his tablet in his hand, ready to jot down his response like a tabloid journalist.

"What do you mean 'how do I feel about Gir'? Besides the fact that I just found out my little brother is a robot? I think that whoever abandoned the little guy is a world class jerk, first of all." If Dib wanted to write, Zim would give him something to write. "I'm a little ashamed that I didn't notice earlier, especially with my amazing observational skills."

"Right, right, and— NO!—" Zim jumped at Dib's shout, nearly spilling his cup of coffee. He sent a well deserved death glare in Dib's direction.

"What on Earth is it now?"

"I just— I—" The alien was clearly panicking, trying to think up an excuse for his out of line behaviour. "I wanted to try the— the— cow-fee? Coffee!" Zim raised an eyebrow. He'd read enough sci-fi stories to know this was a bad idea. That didn't mean some sick part of him didn't want to try.

"You? Want to try this?" Zim gestured at the mug in his hand. Amazingly, none of it had spilled onto the floor. He decided it was due to his cat-like reflexes and impeccable balance.

"Yes? Yes!' Dib was almost certainly regretting his decision, Zim thought as he allowed himself a grin. He set the mug on the table and nudged it in Dib's direction.

"Please, alien. Be my guest." He watched Dib's face go through what must have been twenty different emotions. The alien picked up the mug, hand shaking, and brought it to his lips.

"Actually, I—"

"We don't have all day, Dib." Zim leaned against the counter. His coffee could wait. This was sure to be entertaining.

"Right," Dib sounded defeated, staring at the coffee like it'd killed his mom. Did aliens have parents? Probably. Dib took a hesitant sip and his eyes dilated. Zim smirked, ready for a show.

"How do you like it?" Dib didn't reply, taking a gulp of the piping hot liquid. Aliens must have some resistance to heat, for Dib to be able to do that so effortlessly. He made a mental note about that, fire would probably be useless against Dib in the event of a battle. He silently filed that thought away with the other notes he'd made on the alien.

"I—" Dib sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Slowly, he set the mug down and turned to look Zim in the eyes— no, Dib was looking into his soul. The alien tried to formulate a sentence, tried to say something. His mouth kept opening and closing like he had no control over it. He looked like a fish. Zim couldn't help but laugh.

Suddenly, every thought Dib ever had seemed to be flowing out of him at once. Zim watched, mouth agape, as Dib talked. And talked, and talked, and talked. He was like Gir, if Gir had taken a bottle of Aderall and washed it down with a couple of energy drinks. Zim only caught bits and pieces, none of it made sense. The alien switched languages several times, the only reason Zim even knew this through all the gibberish was that some was at least recognisable. Other bits of his stream of consciousness just sounded like made up words.

Zim had barely pulled out his phone to start recording when the alien flopped over, nearly falling off of the chair in the process. "Dib?" Zim set his phone on the counter and crept around the table to check on the alien. "Are you... dead?"

"Rebooting" Zim jumped back, he'd sworn he'd heard that voice before. It seemed to come from the alien's pack. Dib shook like he'd been electrocuted, and slowly pulled himself back up into the chair with a groan.

"Never... let me drink that again." Dib looked exhausted, pushing the mug away.

"Gladly." Zim grabbed the mug. Should he drink out of it if the alien did? Would he get some sort of... alien disease? Zim chose to cut his losses and dumped out the remains of the coffee, grabbing a new mug from the cabinet. He snuck a glance at Dib, who was very nearly passed out on the table. He'd abandoned his mission of documenting every second of Zim's morning, now maybe he could have breakfast in peace.

Dib thankfully waited until after breakfast to be weird again. They made casual small talk while Zim drank his coffee and dug into his bowl of Poop! Flakes. Mostly about Earth, the alien seemed to love discussing the sad ball of dirt that Zim called home. Fair enough, he was new, after all. It was only after breakfast that things got weird. Zim had just enough time to call himself and Gir in sick to school before Dib went… off the walls, so to speak.

"What are you doing?" Zim got off the phone with the school. He prided himself in his ability to sound deathly ill on command. Dib was inspecting the toilet. Zim didn't know why he had a toilet in his kitchen, but damn if it wasn't convenient on burrito nights. Dib didn't reply, and Zim made the fatal mistake of going over to see for himself.

Without warning, Dib's gloved hand snatched Zim's, and the alien jumped feet first into the toilet, dragging Zim along for the ride.

He couldn't really tell what was going on. Were they in the plumbing? Why was the plumbing big enough to fit two people? Or… one teenager and an alien, to be more precise. He could barely think over his own screams, for that matter. The tube spat them out in a cavernous room, and Zim was barely holding onto consciousness. He was pretty sure he was still screaming, as well.

"Zim?" Dib's voice cut through the screams, or the fog, Zim couldn't really tell, swaying in and out of consciousness. It was way too early for this. "Zim! You can stop screaming now.

"I—" Zim tested out his voice. He was sitting on a cold metal floor. Dib was standing over him, hand extended. He swatted away the alien's hand and heaved himself up, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where did you take me, alien?" His voice was hoarse.

Dib didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to walk about the place like he owned it. "This is…"

"Did you… build this under my toilet?"

"Me?" Dib turned around, he looked like he wanted to laugh. "No, I didn't build this."

"It certainly looks like something you'd build. It has the same gaudy design language as the little gadgets in your pack."

"I suppose you're on the right track…" Dib mused, turning away from Zim again. "Why don't you have a look around, see if your 'amazing observational skills' can help you figure it out." Dib made his way over to the massive monitor that dominated the room, flopping into the desk chair and watching Zim with those creepy bug eyes of his. Dib's disguise must have gotten knocked during the ride through the pipes.

Zim shivered and tried to ignore the alien watching his every move. "'Amazing observational skills'" He mimicked Dib's voice. "Mocking me, disgusting alien. Even a baby could figure this one out. I mean, look at this!" Zim was still muttering to himself when he came face to boot with a huge robot. It was dusty, and the room was dark, but Zim could make out every detail.

"The Megadoomer," he breathed. He didn't know how he knew what it was called, but it was a suitable name. He ran his hand across it, and his head spiked with pain. Unbearable, unfathomable pain.

The Megadoomer, Gir! The most powerful stealth robot in the Irken military. Engineered by conquered Vort scientists, actually. They're filthy.

It's got chicken legs!

Yes…

"Chicken legs…" Zim muttered. He found himself on the floor again. His head was pounding. He didn't know exactly what happened, a freak dream, perhaps? Dib must have seen him collapse, because the alien was standing right next to the Megadoomer's right foot, tablet in hand once more. No offer to help him up, not that he'd take it. Zim pulled himself up, swaying slightly.

"What was that?" Dib immediately assaulted him with questions. "You fell down, what happened? Did you reme— did you… think? Of something?"

"Lay off, alien," Zim groaned, leaning against the Megadoomer's icy metal boot. "I don't know what happened. I had a migraine, or something."

"You called it the Megadoomer." Dib noted, tapping something on the writing tablet with his pen. "Any reason why?"

"I don't know" Zim massaged his temple. "It seemed fitting. I mean, look at it."

Dib looked up at the robot. Not looking completely satisfied, he jotted something down. "That's it? Nothing else?"

"Yeah, actually— how did you hear me? I barely even whispered it."

Zim's answer came in a flick of Dib's antennae. That was certainly an explanation. He momentarily wondered if Dib could control the things, or if they just moved of their own volition. It didn't matter, right now he had to focus on coming down from his world-class headache.

"What about this?" Clearly Dib had other plans, snatching a note off of a workbench. Zim barely registered the piece of paper being shoved in his face, swatting it away on instinct.

"Can I have a moment to rest?"

"Sorry I— uh— got carried away." The note flew to the floor, and Dib's hand fell to his side. He stood there in the middle of the room, awkwardly.

"Do you have, I don't know, some bottled water in that pack of yours? Or something?" Zim groaned, "I can only drink the purified stuff, though. Nasty allergies."

"In my PAK? No," Dib reached back to rummage around regardless. Zim's vision was swimming, the entire room looked like a modern artwork. Maybe a nap would help his headache…

Zim awoke with a jolt, Dib was pacing in front of him, swearing under his breath. He was lying on a table near the main monitor, tethered down by… something. "What? Alien? What happened?"

"You're alive!" Dib immediately raced to the table, circling behind him and unlatching… whatever it was that was holding him down.

"Alive?!" Zim looked around frantically. He'd just been about 20 feet over there, by the Megadoomer. How the hell did he get on this table?

"Awake! I meant awake!" Dib came back around to the front of the table, "Sorry, I shouldn't have overwhelmed you like that."

"What did you… do?" The familiar weight of his backpack was gone. Something felt wrong. Seriously wrong. "Where's my bag?"

"Oh— I had to," Dib gestured vaguely at an adjacent desk, where the sliced remains of his backpack lay uncerimoniously. Zim wanted to scream.

"Why on earth did you have to do that?!"

"Because you— I— You were going to—"

"Faint! I fainted! I wasn't going to die, alien! There was no reason to cut off my—" Zim froze. His hand bushed against a metal dome lodged in his back. His eyes widened.

"You dirty liar!" Zim jumped up, pointing at Dib with one hand while inspecting the lump with the other.

"I did what I ha— What?" Dib, to his credit, stared down Zim's accusatory finger. The alien's giant blue bug-like eyes narrowed in confusion. "What did I lie about?"

"You said you wouldn't experiment on me! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!"

"What did I do?"

Zim didn't respond, instead choosing to turn around, revealing the metal mass on his back to Dib. All he got was a small "oh."

"Oh?!" Zim spun around in a circle, frustrated. He turned back to Dib, only a little dizzy. "Oh? Thats all you have to say for yourself? You put one of your alien… things on me, and all you have to say is oh?!"

"I didn't!" Dib shouted back. "It was there the entire time!"

"What do you mean, the entire time?!" Zim snapped. He was starting to feel lightheaded again. This alien was nothing if not the universe's biggest source of stress.

"I should not have said that," the alien mumbled, head in his hands. "I should not have said tha…" Dib's voice faded out as the world swam and faded to black once more. Zim couldn't move as he felt his body crumple back onto the table.

Why did he smell smoke?