Disclaimer: I do NOT own Invader Zim. Invader Zim is owned by Jhonen
Vasquez. I also don't own Romeo and Juliet. That is copyrighted to
Shakespeare, I think. I DO own Lan. The other little characters I don't
really care about; they just make the story go along, bouncing along,
singing their happy songs. of DOOM!!!
Author's note: Sorry it took so long for another chappy. I've been uh. lazy, oh well. In this chapter, we meet Gir, who's with Lan and Zim who are in costumes for the Membrane party. Okie dokie, so here we go with chapter 5.
Characters in this chapter:
Zim- Romeo
Lan- Benvolio- Friend of Zim (An Irken)
Gir- Mercutio- friend of Zim
Other Irken peoples
Act 1: Scene 4
{A street. It's evening.}
[Enter Gir, Lan, with five or six other Maskers. Lan and Gir are wearing costumes. Lan is in her human disguise wearing a leopard costume; Gir is wearing a piggy costume. (You thought I'd say doggie suit, didn't ya??)]
Lan- Come on Zim! Ya can't hide in the ally all night!
Zim (offstage)- Just watch me!
Gir- Awwww. somebody needs a hug!
Zim (still offstage)- NOOO!!! No Gir no Hugs!
Gir- Awww. *hugs himself* I LOVE PIGGIES!!! But I wanted to be a mongoose!
Lan- Well if we had a mongoose costume, I'd of given you one.
Gir- I still think you two would have made good Tallest!
Lan- If we went as the Tallest, we would've been flayed alive!
Gir- Awww. you make a good kitty though! And I like Zimmy's costume!!
[Lan drags Zim onstage. Zim's costume is a. Hamster!!!]
Gir- Awww. Isn't he cute!
Zim- I'm going to kill you Lan for letting Gir pick my costume!
Lan- *giggling at Zim's costume* But you look adorable!
Zim- Shut-up and let us go to the party! *ahems* Shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology?
Lan- The date is out of such prolixity.
Zim- eh. come again?
Lan- *sighs* It means: Such long-winded speeches are out of fashion.
Zim- Oh, yes. I knew that!
Lan- Suuure you did Zim. *ahems* We'll have no Cupid blindfolded with a scarf, bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies like a scarecrow; nor no memorized speeches, faintly spoke after the prompter, for our entrance; but, let them examine us by what they will, we'll dance a one dance and be gone.
Zim- Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Gir- Nay, gentle Master, we must have you dance!
Zim- Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes with nimble soles; I have a soul of lead so stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Gir- No Master! You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound!
Zim- I am too sore empiercèd with his shaft to soar with his light feathers; and so bound I cannot bound a pitch above a dull woe. Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
Gir- And, to sink in it, should you burden love-too great oppression for a tender thing.
Zim- Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn.
Gir- If love be rough with you, be rough with love; prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Lan- (in shock that Gir is actually keeping a intelligent conversation with Zim) Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in but every Irken begin dancing.
Zim- A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; for I am proverbed with a old Irken's saying, I'll be a candleholder and look on; the game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
Gir- Tut! Dun's the mouse, the constable's own word! If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stickest upon to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
Zim- Nay, that's not so.
Gir- I mean, Master, in delay. We waste our lights in vain, like lights by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits five times in that ere once in our five wits.
Zim- And we mean well in going to this masque, but 'tis not a good idea to go.
Gir- Why, may one ask?
Zim- I dreamt a dream tonight.
Gir- And so did I.
Zim- Well, what was yours?
Gir- That dreamers often lie.
Zim- In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
Gir- O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes in the shape no bigger than an agate stone on the forefinger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little tiny creatures over Irken's faces as they lie asleep; her wagon spokes made of long spiders' legs, the cover, the wings of grasshoppers; her reins, of the smallest spider web; her collars of the moonshine's wat'ry beams; her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of thread; her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat, not half so big as a round little worm pricked from the lazy finger of a maid; her chariot is an empty hazelnut, made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; on courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight; o'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; o'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, and then dreams he of smelling out a suit; and something comes she with a tithe pig's tail tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep, then dreams he of another benefice. Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of breaches, ambuscades, Spanish blades, of toasts five fathom deep; and then anon drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, and being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two and sleeps again. This is that very Mab that plaits the manes of horses in the night and bakes elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled much misfortune bodes. This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, that presses them and learns hem first to bear, making them women of good carriage. This is she-
Zim- Peace, peace, Gir, peace! Thou talk'st of nothing.
Gir- True, I talk of dreams; which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as air, and more inconstant than the wind, who woos even now the frozen bosom of the North and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dewdropping South.
Lan- This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves. Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Gir- Awwww. we missed din din. I wantedth some cupith cakes. Hehehe, I speaketh funnyth. (Smiles with his tongue sticking out.)
Zim- I fear, too early; for my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night's revels and expire the term of a despisèd life, closed in my squeedgy-splooge, by some vile forfeit of untimely death. But he that hath the steerage if my course direct my sail! On lusty Irkens!
Lan- Strike, drum.
________________________________________________________________
Yay another chapter done!! Just. 25 more to go!! Wow. that's. encouraging, I think. And yes, I know Gir was majorly out of character in this, but well. um. the Queen Mab speech is way to important to cut out. Why? I have no clue. Oh yeah. review or my curly fries of DOOM will eat you!! Bwhahahaha!
Author's note: Sorry it took so long for another chappy. I've been uh. lazy, oh well. In this chapter, we meet Gir, who's with Lan and Zim who are in costumes for the Membrane party. Okie dokie, so here we go with chapter 5.
Characters in this chapter:
Zim- Romeo
Lan- Benvolio- Friend of Zim (An Irken)
Gir- Mercutio- friend of Zim
Other Irken peoples
Act 1: Scene 4
{A street. It's evening.}
[Enter Gir, Lan, with five or six other Maskers. Lan and Gir are wearing costumes. Lan is in her human disguise wearing a leopard costume; Gir is wearing a piggy costume. (You thought I'd say doggie suit, didn't ya??)]
Lan- Come on Zim! Ya can't hide in the ally all night!
Zim (offstage)- Just watch me!
Gir- Awwww. somebody needs a hug!
Zim (still offstage)- NOOO!!! No Gir no Hugs!
Gir- Awww. *hugs himself* I LOVE PIGGIES!!! But I wanted to be a mongoose!
Lan- Well if we had a mongoose costume, I'd of given you one.
Gir- I still think you two would have made good Tallest!
Lan- If we went as the Tallest, we would've been flayed alive!
Gir- Awww. you make a good kitty though! And I like Zimmy's costume!!
[Lan drags Zim onstage. Zim's costume is a. Hamster!!!]
Gir- Awww. Isn't he cute!
Zim- I'm going to kill you Lan for letting Gir pick my costume!
Lan- *giggling at Zim's costume* But you look adorable!
Zim- Shut-up and let us go to the party! *ahems* Shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology?
Lan- The date is out of such prolixity.
Zim- eh. come again?
Lan- *sighs* It means: Such long-winded speeches are out of fashion.
Zim- Oh, yes. I knew that!
Lan- Suuure you did Zim. *ahems* We'll have no Cupid blindfolded with a scarf, bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies like a scarecrow; nor no memorized speeches, faintly spoke after the prompter, for our entrance; but, let them examine us by what they will, we'll dance a one dance and be gone.
Zim- Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
Gir- Nay, gentle Master, we must have you dance!
Zim- Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes with nimble soles; I have a soul of lead so stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
Gir- No Master! You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound!
Zim- I am too sore empiercèd with his shaft to soar with his light feathers; and so bound I cannot bound a pitch above a dull woe. Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
Gir- And, to sink in it, should you burden love-too great oppression for a tender thing.
Zim- Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn.
Gir- If love be rough with you, be rough with love; prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Lan- (in shock that Gir is actually keeping a intelligent conversation with Zim) Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in but every Irken begin dancing.
Zim- A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; for I am proverbed with a old Irken's saying, I'll be a candleholder and look on; the game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
Gir- Tut! Dun's the mouse, the constable's own word! If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stickest upon to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
Zim- Nay, that's not so.
Gir- I mean, Master, in delay. We waste our lights in vain, like lights by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits five times in that ere once in our five wits.
Zim- And we mean well in going to this masque, but 'tis not a good idea to go.
Gir- Why, may one ask?
Zim- I dreamt a dream tonight.
Gir- And so did I.
Zim- Well, what was yours?
Gir- That dreamers often lie.
Zim- In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
Gir- O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes in the shape no bigger than an agate stone on the forefinger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little tiny creatures over Irken's faces as they lie asleep; her wagon spokes made of long spiders' legs, the cover, the wings of grasshoppers; her reins, of the smallest spider web; her collars of the moonshine's wat'ry beams; her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of thread; her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat, not half so big as a round little worm pricked from the lazy finger of a maid; her chariot is an empty hazelnut, made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; on courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight; o'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; o'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, and then dreams he of smelling out a suit; and something comes she with a tithe pig's tail tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep, then dreams he of another benefice. Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of breaches, ambuscades, Spanish blades, of toasts five fathom deep; and then anon drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, and being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two and sleeps again. This is that very Mab that plaits the manes of horses in the night and bakes elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled much misfortune bodes. This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, that presses them and learns hem first to bear, making them women of good carriage. This is she-
Zim- Peace, peace, Gir, peace! Thou talk'st of nothing.
Gir- True, I talk of dreams; which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as air, and more inconstant than the wind, who woos even now the frozen bosom of the North and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his side to the dewdropping South.
Lan- This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves. Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Gir- Awwww. we missed din din. I wantedth some cupith cakes. Hehehe, I speaketh funnyth. (Smiles with his tongue sticking out.)
Zim- I fear, too early; for my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night's revels and expire the term of a despisèd life, closed in my squeedgy-splooge, by some vile forfeit of untimely death. But he that hath the steerage if my course direct my sail! On lusty Irkens!
Lan- Strike, drum.
________________________________________________________________
Yay another chapter done!! Just. 25 more to go!! Wow. that's. encouraging, I think. And yes, I know Gir was majorly out of character in this, but well. um. the Queen Mab speech is way to important to cut out. Why? I have no clue. Oh yeah. review or my curly fries of DOOM will eat you!! Bwhahahaha!