A/N: So this is my idea for the fic set in the 50's. Again, this is merely a rough rough draft. If anything this time period might end up being less of a full on storyline and more of little oneshots. I'm not sure yet. I feel like this one is more AU than the others. I think it's an interesting idea of IZ in the 50's because of those old 1950's B sci-fi movies that come to mind when you think of that time period.
By the way, if any of you remember the original pilot of Invader Zim that I think was a short, this is somewhat where I got the idea for a couple interactions in this.
Gaz's POV
The bell jingled as another customer came in, but I couldn't turn around to see who it was just yet. Knowing that it was going on 9:30 pm, I had a suspicion about the identity anyway. I carried two piping hot plates to the table I was currently serving. I hated them, as I did most everyone in this town. Perhaps I should've considered my anti-social personality when I applied to work at Bloaty's diner, supposedly the best malt shop in town. Having been a loyal patron in my youth, Bloaty agreed to take me on and with a paycheck a bit more decent than my counterparts. Still was minimal wage though. I had been 16 at the time. That was ten years ago. Ten years...
"God, I hate that egghead. Just doesn't shut up about the craziest shit. Makes me want to punch that nerd face so bad." One man, I believed his name was Torque of something was saying quietly to his friend.
"Yeah, he's a real nutjob. Whole family is..." The other man jumped as he realized I was standing there, silencing both men.
They were stiff and silent as I put their plates in front of them and handing them their bill. As I turned and walked away I could hear them chuckling, "Shame she wasn't on the menu. Probably tastes like a scoop of strawberry ice cream."
"Yeah, with a side of sprinkles and completely nuts." They both erupted in raucous laughter.
I didn't say a word. I've grown from my wrathful childhood phase, rarely letting my violent nature peak through. Plus I already spit on their burgers. I headed toward where my next customer was. He always sat closest to the jukebox. He had already taken his coat off, his tie undone and suspenders bunching up the shirt on his shoulders, giving off a Clark Kent vibe or so he probably thought. His cowlick hung over his eyes as he looked through the newspaper in front of him.
"Alright Dib, what do you want?" I asked my brother.
He glanced up at me with a bright smile, "Gaz! Guess what?"
Several long seconds past with him smiling stupidly before I accepted he was really going to make me ask. I gave in, "What?"
He slapped his hand down on the newspaper, pointing at the story about unidentified flying objects and possible creatures from outer space.
"Front page, Gaz. The Swollen Eyeball printed my story in the headlines!" He beamed with excitement. I looked closer at the paper and sure enough saw Dib Membrane listed as investigating reporter at the bottom.
"Wow. Look, I'm overwhelmed with joy. I just might dance." I rolled my eyes, letting him soak up the sarcasm I was trying to spew.
"Well, gee. And here I thought I might get just a little support from my only family." He huffed. I might throw a few verbal punches, but he knows what to say to strike a final blow. The subject of family is a sensitive one for us both.
He really seemed to be hurt too. I really didn't want to put up with that sick, heavy feeling in my stomach. Guilt, is that what it's called? Fine, I'll give him a break, "Sorry, Dib. It's just been a long day. Honestly, I am happy for you. You've earned it. You want some desert?"
That did it. His smile returned, "Thanks, sis. You're swell."
I'm just glad my brother's so easy to please and not usually the type to hold a grudge. It helps when you're someone like me, a cynical person who's rarely able to control their first reactions. I really never stop to filter my thoughts or actions before hand, thus leading to the 'violent' phase I mentioned earlier. Even after I got that under control, I still have trouble when it comes to saying the first thing on my mind. Sometimes, even if I didn't intend on sounding malicious, it still comes across that way. Usually I don't care if someone's feelings get hurt. But as I said earlier, Dib knows just where to strike.
I took my notepad out of my apron, once again hating my baby blue uniform. I'm not sure why I spent so much time trying to get my hair and makeup like Betty Page's when I just end up putting on this monstrosity, "So, will it be the usual?"
"Yep." Dib nodded before adding, "And maybe a chocolate milkshake. I think I'm going to celebrate."
I wrote it down. Bloaty lets his employees and their family eat free and Dib has certainly taken advantage of the fact. This unhealthy fried food of questionable origin was likely the main staple to his diet. But I have to admit, most of it does taste good. I left and handed the order to Bloaty, who was in the kitchen.
The man who strongly resembled a pig that hated his life grunted, "Fine, but I'm going home after this. You close up."
I usually was the one closing up anyway. Bloaty's wife, Mrs. Bitters once said I was the only one they trusted to do so. I think I understood why. My co-workers, Gretchen and Mary, were pretty flaky. Gretchen was clumsy and Mary flirted shamelessly to get her tips. Both usually were taking overly long breaks or taking off early. They didn't like the couple, they gave them the creeps. I myself am fond of the joint. I would come here often in between the few family nights we had as a kid. I probably talked to Bloaty ordering fries than I did to my own father. I think Bloaty knew my sentiments, thus trusting me to lock up.
I waited and listened to the Elvis song that came on. Dib always messed around on the jukebox when waiting for his order. Elvis was okay. He was no Sinatra, but I still listened to his records from time to time. Finally Dib's frank'n'beans were done. I carried the plate and milkshake back to the table, grateful those idiots from earlier had left. Now we're were the only two left and I could start preparing to go home. Truth told, I was proud of my older brother. He had been working at The Swollen Eyeball for nearly 6 years now. Honestly, they were less of a newspaper and more of a tabloid that focused on things like ghosts and bigfoot. But my brother considered himself a real journalist. And he puts a lot of time in investigating whatever scoop he's got. Our father wasn't pleased when Dib revealed his choice of career. He was a scientist for the government and had planned for his son to follow in his footsteps. It led to a nasty fight where things were said that couldn't be taken back. Things a father shouldn't ever say to his son. Dad regretted it immediately but it was too late. Dib swore never to talk to him again and from then on referred me as his only family. Dad still asks about him whenever we talk on the phone. He really wasn't a bad father, just absent and careless at times. He occasionally sends me money, always with a note saying he loves us both.
I sighed and pushed the stupid family drama from my mind.
"So, did you find anything out anything else on that UFO sighting?" I asked, deciding to humor Dib and let him talk about his latest story.
"Other than the military seems to have talked to the witnesses, no." He sucked on the straw to his milkshake for a second before continuing, "I actually went to the area they originally saw it heading. You know Old Man Chuck's place? That's where it should have supposedly landed but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Except that god awful green paint job his neighbors did to their house."
"Neighbors?" I asked, curiously, "That's funny, I don't remember him having any. Or any other house there at all for that matter."
Dib merely shrugged and continued eating, "Probably just been a long time since you were there. I almost didn't recognize the neighbor hood since we haven't been there since we were kids trying to spy on Ol' Chuck."
"You were spying on him trying to see if he was a vampire. I was just dragged along for the ride." I corrected him.
"Ok, I was wrong there. I was a kid. But I'm telling you, Gaz. This UFO story... I know there's something to it. It's tingling in my senses. Something big is out there." he said, going back to his food.
As my brother devoured his meal, I went about sweeping up and preparing to close. Dib had again put another nickel in the jukebox and the Platters' Twilight Time started playing. I had to admit, it was a relaxing song. Dib usually would play it when I was closing up. It was one of his favorite songs but why he always plays it last i don't know. But every time I heard it, I would start to unwind knowing that the day was almost over. Soon I would close the blinds, lock the door and Dib would give me a ride home. We live in the same apartment building, so it wasn't much of a bother to him.
Heavenly shades of night are falling
it's twilight time
Out of the mist your voice is calling
Tis twilight time
I was letting the melody flow through me as I sweep, resisting the temptation to hum along. Dib usually ends up singing anyway. Like he had for the past ten years. Again as I thought about this, a sick pit in my gut grows. Ten years and I still work here. I lived in the same apartment for 8 years. I eat the same types of food, go on dates with the same type of men. My life was a never-ending series of the same routine. Not that I don't appreciate routine. There's a comfort in knowing what to expect. Any change no matter how small can be tasking. But this is not where I thought my life would be at 26. I fear this is where I will be, at the same job, going home to the same apartment until I grow old and die. Was this really all that my life had to offer?
I heard the bell ring, another customer coming in and I groaned.
"Kitchen's closed. If you want some coffee or something like that, fine but make it quick." I said without sparing a glance to the door. I didn't hear the person leave so I finished sweeping and started closing the blinds.
When purple-colored curtains
Mark the end of the day
I'll hear you, my dear, at twilight time
Strange. Usually Dib is singing obnoxiously by now. I put the broom up and turned off the lights in the half of the diner that was empty. Turning around, I looked at my brother. With half the lights off, the colorful glow from the neon lights still on highlighted his outline. He face was pale and slack, his hand shaking as he had his arm outstretched pointing. The look on his face was almost comical had it not been for the pure fear in his eyes. I followed where he was pointing and froze myself as the music kept playing.
Deepening shadows gather splendor
As day is done
Fingers of night will soon surrender
The setting sun
I could only see his back at first. I could see jet black hair styled like Elvis', but too shiny to actually be real. He had broad shoulders, but I could not ignore the silvery pack fastened between them. Already I could tell he was unnaturally thin. And one of the most obvious things, I noticed the first thing to catch my eye was the back of his neck... where the skin looked positively green despite of the red neon glow. He seemed to be eating sugar straight from the small canister we set at every booth.
Despite alarm bells ringing in my head, I took my notepad out and hesitantly made my way over to his booth standing next to him.
"Hello, Sir, may I take your...order..." I froze as he looked up at me and my eyes met his.
His eyes... They were blue initially but something was off, so off about them. They looked glassy and in the low light and there was hint of crimson seeping through at the whites of his eyes. His nose was almost non-existent and thin mouth pursed as if in thought. A jolt of electricity went through me and for a second I wasn't sure if I was even breathing. Time felt like it slowed down. The song was still playing, now sounding reverberated, eerie and mocking.
It's twilight time
He too seemed to stare, looking directly into my eyes without blinking. I've heard those annoying girls that eat hear once discuss chemistry and basic animal attraction. Love at first sight. I never understood how one glance could possibly inspire such strong feelings until now. but this was not magical or romantic. This was fearful, dangerous. Prey meeting the eyes of a predator. I was staring into the gaze of something not human.
Finally the spell was broken when one of us spoke, time seeming to resume again.
"What do you have that tastes like this?" When I first heard his metallic voice, it took me a moment to register what he had asked. Then I notice he was holding the sugar canister up.
"Uh.." I embarrassingly stammered before getting my bearings, "Um, you mean, like something that's sweet?"
He seemed a bit annoyed yet amused, "Yes, Food-drone, that is what Zim means."
I looked back at Dib for help but he was still sitting there, shocked. I didn't know how to use the fryer and we wouldn't get the next delivery of ice cream until tomorrow morning. I ended up saying the first thing to cross my mind, "Kitchen's closed but I can fire up the waffle iron, those are pretty sweet."
He sat straight, posture rigid, "Yes, good. Do so at once."
Dumbly, I left. I didn't realize what I was doing until Dib burst through the kitchen door, and I found I was actually mixing waffle batter.
Apparently having recovered from his shock, he grabbed my shoulder, "Gaz?! Are you ok? Did he use some sort of mind control?"
I thought about it and shook my head. It wasn't mind control but a mixture of shock and my subconscious going about a normal routine. Faced with such an abnormal situation I tried to carry out what normal protocols were when a customer ordered waffles.
"I'm fine, Dib."
"Ok, I want you to stay calm, ok? But I think that that person in there.. is a-"
"An alien." I finished for him, nodding in agreement.
He looked at me in disbelief, "You believe me?"
"I don't know what other explanations there could be. Looks like a little green man to me." In truth, I couldn't really tell his height while he was sitting, but compared to the other men I see sitting on a daily basis, he couldn't be much taller than me.
"Jesus. This is big, Gaz..." He looked back towards the door that led to the rest of the diner, "Really big."
I chewed this through my mind as I poured the batter in the waffle iron, "So? What are you planning on doing?"
"Me?" Dib asked.
"Well, you are the expert on these things, aren't you?"
"Yeah.. yeah! This is the biggest scoop of the century. Martian lands on Earth and wants waffles. Is he from Mars?" He was running his fingers through his hair, coming to terms with reality.
The timer dinged and I put the waffles on a plate and went to get the syrup.
"Ok, just uh.. follow my lead. Bring him his waffles, I'll take care of everything else." He grabbed both sides of my face to look in my eyes and speaking in a reassuring tone as if I was the one fixing to panic, "Don't worry. I won't let you get hurt."
Well, I wasn't worried until he said that. A part of me wondered if he was planning on pushing me at the alien to see if he gets startled and pulls out his ray-gun. With a deep breath, I left the kitchen carrying the last plate I would serve for today.
With Dib at my heels, we stopped, seeing the space man poking Dib's frank'n'beans before pulling his hand away violently. Noticing us, he quickly pulled his glove back on and returned to his booth. I slowly set down the plate in front of him, setting the pitcher of syrup next to it.
He looked at the brown liquid with confusion, "Is that the waffle or this thing made of squares the waffle?"
I could hear Dib snort and I smirked in amusement myself, "That is syrup, it goes on the waffle."
I stepped back and sat at Dib's booth as we watched him shakily tear a small piece of waffle off and warily nibbled at it. He seemed to approve so he then lifted the pitcher to his thin alien lips and tasted it. His eyes widened and he started gulping it down. Me and Dib were watching in amazement at this odd display. Finally he poured the syrup on the waffles are started eating as if he hadn't in weeks.
Dib got up and approached the table, seeming to get over what ever fear he had and I followed. I stopped, watching him take another bite, noticing how sharp his teeth are. There were like shark's teeth.
He stopped and looked up at me. He gave me a curt nod, "Well done food-drone..."
He glanced at my name tag and corrected himself, "Gaz.. This food is more than adequate. You will get your payment when Zim is finished."
It was then he looked and noticed the man to my side. He bristled like a cat and addressed Dib, "Can I help you?"
Dib slowly smiled, managing to look creepy before answering, "Oh, I'm sorry.. Zim, was it? Seeing as you've met my sister, Gaz, it's only fair I introduce myself so we're all on a first name basis. Name's Dib. Investigative journalist."
"Oh really..." Zim looked at him with a bored tone, "That's fascinating."
"Oh it really is. I don't write about politics, the market, or whatever dribble they call news these days, no. I focus on important matters. Paranormal matters... Alien matters."
I smiled cruelly seeing the martian tense up, fear flashing through his eyes. It was entertaining to see my simple, usually cheerful brother intimidate someone.
He clasped his hands in front of himself and then I could see the four frighteningly long, skinny fingers that seemed to end in sharp points even if they were hidden by his gloves. I frowned again, growing uneasy.
"And this is supposed to matter to me? I only care for Human news. Go take your fantasies elsewhere." He said, putting extra emphasis on the U in humans. His lips curled in a snarl, once again showing his dangerous teeth.
Dib seemed unafraid, "My my, what big teeth you have."
All the better to eat you with my mind whispered.
"What green skin. And no ears?" Dib asked mockingly.
"If you must know, Zim was in a terrible accident." He said, without missing a beat. I had to hand it to him, he seems to think fast on his feet.
"Is that so. How tragic."
Dib's tone was starting to get on my nerves so I wasn't surprised when this Zim turned to me and shoved a wad of cash in my hands, "Zim has lost his appetite. Here is your promised reward."
I stared at what he had given me. 200 dollars?! Did he even know how much money this is? Probably not, and my mind beckoned the question on where it came from.
"Oh, don't leave yet! I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable..." Dib walked back to his table and grabbing his long cold plate before returning, "Tell you what. Let me make it up to you. Here's my dinner. You can have it."
He shuddered, eyeing the dish with venom, "No, thank you, I'm full."
"Why would any sane human being not eat a perfectly good meal offered to you for free? Why, it's almost as if you..." Dib leaned in and as if he were about to tell a secret, "Weren't human."
A long silence passed. The alien looked up at me as if trying to gage my reaction to what Dib had said, seeming growing more irritated that I have not stepped in and reigned my brother in. Eventually he spoke, "Fine. If that would make both of you leave me to go on with my business, so be it."
Dib shoved the waffles to the side, setting the beans in it's place. The alien looked at the plate and took a deep breath. He took the fork and scooped up as little on the fork as he could. Giving us one last glance he brought it to his mouth.
The reaction was immediate. He started sputtering and gagging. I have to admit, those really were horrible. Only a handful of people ever ordered them, my brother included. We both laughed at his misery, and I felt like we were a couple of hyenas laughing at their prey.
The alien, who had doubled over looked back up at us and I stopped. His skin was bubbling in what looked like hives. His breathing sounded horrible, wheezing with every breath he took. It wasn't funny anymore.
I stared wide-eyed in horror at the scene. Despite the obvious pain he was in, he managed to lunge at Dib, going for his throat with his teeth. But in his weakened state he ended up falling to the ground where he started to convulse.
Then he was still.
I stared at the creature, hand out, wondering if I should check to see if it was alive. Dib stopped me. He grabbed my shoulders, ecstatic, "I did it! I mean we did it. We got the alien! Good lord, this is going to be the biggest story ever. Maybe they'll even let me write about the autopsy!"
"Autopsy?" I asked, not liking how this or what just happened weighed on my chest. I knew Dib was going to write about this, but for some reason killing an advanced lifeform didn't cross my mind. Though it really shouldn't have been that surprising as Dib would need bigger proof than just a few pictures from some yokels to back up his claims.
"Things are going to be smooth sailing from here on out, sis, just you wait." He grabbed his coat and keys , turning back to me, "I'm going to go get someone, cops or doctors or, I don't know, but I'll be back as quick as I can."
He was out the door, looking back at me before he told me, "Be careful, Gaz. Tie him up or something, just in case he's not dead. See you soon."
And with that, he rushed out, the bell announcing his departure. I looked back to the man from outer space. Just a little while ago I was worried about my boring life. I can already tell my life has changed. Whether this was good or bad I couldn't tell yet. I'm scared at the idea of change and scared for the lack of it.
I knelt down, examining him closer. His chest was rising and falling, breaths so small I hardly noticed. He was still alive. The wig and contacts had fallen off and I saw inspected every detail of his true form. He was terrifying to look at yet in a way, captivating. He certainly didn't look anything like the aliens I've seen in those monster movies at the drive in. Too scary to be human, too beautiful to be a monster. The welts on his skin looked like they were going away. I reached out and touched his face to see what his skin felt like. It was cool and smooth, almost leathery.
Then I noticed he was stirring.
Dib's POV
I raced down the road, a patrolman and a couple of guys following me. It took a while to find them and even more time trying to convince them to come but eventually they went and got their guns. This is it. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was going to be one of the most revered reporters of all time. I could move out of my crappy apartment, maybe pay Gaz back for all the times she's loaned me money. We'll both be set.
I'll finally get the recognition and respect I've so desperately wanted. Maybe my dad will finally respect me. When he's cutting the alien open on national television, maybe he'll take back everything he's ever said about my job. About my sanity.
Who knows what that thing was planning? I could sense it. There was something nefarious about him. Something dangerous. Gaz could sense it too. I've never seen her freeze like that. I'm not sure she realized how long she had just been standing there. The way he was looking at her was unsettling. Like Dracula hypnotizing his victim.
Let's see how dangerous you are cut up into little pieces. No more waffles where you're going.
Finally, we pulled in the diner. I rushed in with the three men behind me, their riffles loaded and ready. We looked around and froze. I couldn't believe it.
There was Gaz, sitting on the floor where the alien had been. She looked up at me and rubbed her head.
"W-where is he? Gaz, where'd he go?" I asked her, my eyes begging her to tell me he was locked up somewhere.
She squinted her eyes shut, before answering, "Who? That new foreign guy?"
I heard the men behind me swear at me, lowering their guns. The cop looked at her and cursed again, "God damn it, would someone tell me what's going on here?"
"I don't know," Gaz said rubbing her temple again, "But I've got a massive headache."
"I'll tell you what's going on here. The town loon strikes again." The one man in overalls spoke, enraging me.
"No! This was real.. My sister," I looked to Gaz again and back at them, "He must have done something to her, knocked her out and did things to her mind!"
"Sure, Dib. That's what happened. Why don't you go home and write about it." The officer laughed.
He turned and left, the others following his lead, grumbling under their breath. I turned to Gaz, who was getting off the floor. I ran to her and shook her lightly, "What happened? Where'd the alien go?"
"Alien?... You mean that customer was an alien?"
"Gaz!" I was trying not to shout but frustration was getting the better of me.
"I don't know, Dib!" She hissed back, "Last thing I remember was green and something about waffles."
She seemed genuinely confused. I guess I should be happy that nothing worse happened to her. Still isn't fun having the rug jerked out from under you like that though. I put my arm around Gaz's shoulder and led her out. I'll crash on her couch tonight to make sure that thing doesn't come back. It was still out there. Somewhere.
"C'mon, sis. Let's go home."
And I will hunt him down or die trying.
Zim's POV
My eyes blinked open slowly, vision blurry until eventually I could recognize the ceiling of my new base. I shut them fast, wanting to go back to sleep and avoid this horrible pain in my brainmeats. What happened? What horrible Earth element dared to make Zim so miserable. I tried to think back.
After I finished setting up the base, I decided to scout the area. Yes, Zim is remembering now. Nothing seemed to pose a threat to Zim that would threatened the mission. The planet was quiet and primitive. Ripe for the taking. What else happened? Oh yeah. It got dark and I was about to go home when I smelled something that made my spooch growl. There was this eating establishment. No matter how primitive a planet is, Zim can always spot one from when they tried to force me to be a food-drone.
I had decided to check it out, hungry as I was. Perhaps there would be something edible Zim could eat. Plus I wasn't looking forward to going home to be tackled by Gir just yet. The moment I stepped in, I was assaulted by some sort of music. While I did not care for the human vocalization, the music itself seemed pretty enough.
I heard a female tell me the kitchen was closed. I cared not. I am Zim, and either they serve me or I will have them groveling at my feet. I remember sitting down and waiting for the food-drone. They were little jars and bottles on the table. I picked up the shaker with the white stuff in it and poured a little and tasted it. It was some sort of salt. I did the same with the other shaker and sneezed, determining it had to have been some sort of spice. I tried the white stuff in the bigger class container. It was deliciously sweet. I was eating more of it, deciding if I should try the red bottle with a picture of red vegetation on it when the food-drone finally came to take my order.
Something very strange happened when I looked at her. She looked at me and I could tell she knew what Zim was. I'm note sure how as my disguise is brilliant but she did. I looked into her narrow eyes, trying to discern if she was a threat. A wave of energy passed through me that I can't explain, like my blood was humming as if it were whispering a long forgotten language. Was that the reason I feel like dookie now?
No, there was more. I can't explain why but I kept looking at the human's eyes. Few irken's have been able to use telepathy. While I never been one of the lucky few, it didn't stop me from trying to read her thoughts. I tried harder. Then my hunger returned and I remembered why I was there in the first place. I held up the sweet stuff. To my surprise, she didn't try to scream or run. I know what kind of media they show depicting aliens.
She was a professional food-drone it seemed, no ridiculous human myths would stop her from doing her job. Zim respects that. While I was waiting I decided to look around. I saw an abandoned plate and examined it. It didn't smell good. And it burned when I toughed it. Then..
Ah... the waffles. That had to have been the best thing Zim has ever tasted. I really hope that's not what made me sick. No, I don't think it was. I think it was...
Yes. Zim remembers everything now. The Dib-stink! Never in my life had I had such a strong dislike just at first glance. He introduce himself as the Gaz-human's brother. And as someone who writes journals. I didn't care until he mention reporting on aliens. So he knew what Zim was too.
I was getting sick of his insistent chatter so I tried to leave. I had shoved money at the purple sibling. I'm still getting used to Earth currency but I tried to give her a little extra. She had been a good servant and Zim understands the torture it is to be a food-drone. But at least she got to serve her future overlord, that's something to be proud of.
Then that monkey challenged me. They both must have seen Zim burn his finger on that slop. I looked at the Gaz-human. I felt betrayed somehow when I saw her smirking. I'm not sure why as not one word had passed between us that wasn't about waffles. Standing next to her brother, I realized I had little choice as both could overpower me and force me to eat it. The pain, sweet Mother Irk, the pain. At the academy, they taught us that some primitive planets may have food that could induce a violent physical reaction. Usually anything with meat as lesser, more filthy species don't have the technology to properly rid the carcasses of harmful bacteria. While they might have an immune system built up for it, the bacteria can wreak havoc on our systems, causing an almost type of allergic reaction. All this passed through one antennae and out the other at the time.
I wished I had paid better attention. I could hear them laughing as my airways felt like they were closing up. I looked up at the Dib-thing. If I was going to die, I would take him with me. Instead I hit the ground.
Zim doesn't remember much after that. Purple. Something warm touching Zim's face. I remember waking up for a brief second and she was looking at me. I tried to stay awake, needing to fight her off if she decided to finish Zim off. But my PAK was overworked and had triggered a forced stated of sleep to recharge.
But now I am home. So how did Zim get home? I sat up, groaning. Gir was watching the small box they called a television at an annoying loud volume.
Head hurting, I shouted at him, "Gir turn that down, now!"
He shushed me, his master!
"Leave it to Monkey is on..." He turned back to the tv, "I love this show."
I merely sighed and gave up. In this short time we've been here I've learned not to interfere with his obsession with human entertainment. I left to go in the kitchen and saw it instantly. Something white on the table. On top of it was a note folded up. Suspiciously I picked it up and opened it.
Welcome to Earth.
The material of the box was something the data in my PAK called styrofoam. I opened it up carefully, fearing it might be a trap. I couldn't believe my eyes. Waffles. Stacks of waffles. I turned back into the living room and addressed Gir, "How did those waffles get here? Was someone in Zim's amazing base?"
"The pretty lady did it!" He said cheerfully before crying, "I loves her. I love her sooooo much!"
Hmmm... The base would not have allowed some human in without me present. I can only deduce that the Gaz-human had somehow managed to bring Zim home. But why? Was it to set a trap for later? Will she lead the other humans to Zim's home? But if that was the case, why not have just killed me when I was weak and vulnerable while she had the chance. I turned back to the kitchen, towards the waffles. Was this some sort of peace offering? An apology? What?
Zim knew the moment he saw the Dib-beast that were were destined to be enemies. If ever I had questioned my will to live, I now found purpose in being the bane of his existence. But what of the other human?
I reread the note, many different theories running in my head. A strange thrill filled me at the prospect of trying to solve this puzzle.
Who are you, Little Gaz? Friend or Foe?
A/N: So in the short cartoon pilot I'm trying to remember, there was a scene where Dib and Gaz teamed up on Zim and had him eat beans and while he was writhing in pain and Dib was trying to call the school's attention to the alien, Gaz looked at him with a concerned look. Whether she was concerned for him or that he was getting away but when Dib comes back Zim's gone and it gave me the idea for this, what if Gaz had dragged him to safety? I can't really think of a complete plot to this one so it might just be a collection of one-shots. Let me know if you have any ideas. Or go ahead and write the ideas yourselves. I own neither IZ or the 50's. Or any other decade for that matter. Except the late 90's, I own that era.
While I was writing I was listening to Postmodern Jukebox. Surely everyone's heard of them by now but if you haven't, check it out. Now! I demand it!
I also was listening to songs from the 50's. They're cool and easy to make sound creepy. I had wanted to use Twilight Time so when I looked up a creepy version of the song I found the version they used for the WandaVision trailer watch?v=mQS0n1-KGDQ . And I was like, "Bingo! Thanks for reading and I'm hoping your enjoying.