I know I have two unfinished IZ fics out, but that's okay, 'cuz I say so! (I'm the kind of person who has seven different unfinished cereal boxes in her pantry.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read RIR and make suggestions on the character! ALMOST NO ONE has yet, and it's so #^)(*&@%ing irritating!
Halloween is soooooooooorta close, so I wrote a fic about the IZ gang taking on my fav holiday. Not the not at all subtle slam on my schools s----y (not "spiffy" :) dress code, and the even less subtle apperance of my (possible) haloween costume, (not REALLY a mary sue, 'cuz I say one word and then I'm gone.)
BTW- you'll not I stopped writing their names ZIM and DIB, after noticing that causes people to projectile vomit out of every orifice, (hee hee, I've discovered JTHM lately and have been quoting it like mad)
Disclaimer: All the IZ characters (all of the skool children named are from the show) and the line 'projectile vomit out of every orifice' belong to Jhonen Vasquez, (hearts appear in eyes at mention of that name)
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"...And so, the ugly duckling was thrown into the oven, and baked alive at 350. So you see children, anyone remotley different than the most popular people is doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed, doomed, doomed..."
Zim didn't know how much more of this he could take. Desperatly he tried to recall the exercises he learned at the Invader's Acadamy intended to stave off bordeom-driven insanity on long space trips. He sighed, making no attempt to disguise it. Originally he had hoped this "skool" would be useful for gathering information, but now it was just a matter of keeping up apperances and preventing suspicion. He glared up at the human(?) leading the class, but then quickly averted his gaze, Miss Bitters wasn't a pretty sight. He began listlessly tapping out old Irken battle songs on his desk.
"...doomed, doomed, doomed. Moving on, the idiots on the skool board have made yet another futile attemt to relieve the inescapable monotony in this room. This year, on Halloween, (Zim's attention was piqued at the unfamilar word) you will come to skool in costumes, and there will be an hour long party before classes begin and all happines is stifled. Participation is mandatory, anyone who doesn't participate in full will be chained in the dungeon for a week."
"'Chained in the dungeon'? Is that even legal?" A familar voice asked. Zim gritted his teeth. Miss Bitters ignored Dib's question, as usual. She(?) continued. "The following is a list of unacceptable costumes..." At that, a large roll of paper that extended to the far wall of the classroom was unrolled. "Costumes with gang colors, costumes without gang colors, costumes involving face paint, masks, shirts or shoes, costumes contianing anything that can be readily used as a weapon, such as hats,..." Miss Bitters showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, Dib divirted his attention from her droning voice. "Hey Zim," he said, sneering, "you don't need to do anything different for Halloween, you wear a 'costume' every day!" he snickered. Zim clenched his fists in rage as his mind raced to think of a crushing retort.
"Hey, what's wrong with you Dib, are you making fun of the way he looks?" Brian asked. "Yeah," joined Rob, "it's bad enough you run around saying he's an alien, now you're poking fun at his skin condition?" "What?" said Dib, "No, I-" "Just because he's different dosen't give you the right to TEASE him!" Zita yelled, tearing at her hair, going a bit ballistic. Zim feigned sadness, fighting hard not to burst out laughing. Suddenly he didn't feel so bad that all his classmates had escaped their previous moosey fate. Dib fumed.
"... belts, socks, bright colors, dark colors, and anything remotley comfertable or good-looking. Now go home."
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Dib burst into his house and threw his bags down angrily. Ohhh, that Zim. Why did the other kids always defend him? They ignored and teased Zim, but they acted so self-rightious all the same. Well, someday when he was a world-famous paranormal investigator, he'd show 'em, he'd show 'em all. He walked towards the bathroom, and found Gaz there putting on her zombie makeup. She had specifically designed her costume to look like one of the creatures from 'Horror, Mayhem, Blood & Death III', her new GameSlave cartrige.
"Gaz, Halloween isn't until tomorrow." "I know," Gaz said, not turning around, "but I want to make sure I get this EXACTLY right, so I'm practising." The tone of her voice seemed to say how angry she was that he hadn't assumed this. Halloween had alway's been Gaz's favorite holiday. Dib's too, although this year he had been so busy trying to stop Zim from stopping him from stopping him from stopping him from exposing him, he had compleatly forgotten about it. Well, he supposed he could replace his smiley-face shirt with a red one, then tie a black towel around his neck and go as a vampire. He'd still need plastic fangs, but he could just run out and pick those up right now. He turned around and headed for the costume shop.
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Meanwhile...
A small green object flew across the huge red room on a... cool floaty thing. Zim, sans disguise, shouted at a concave wall. "Computer! Bring up entire file on... Halloween." he pronounced the last word slowly and deliberatly. Immediatly a giant green screen appeared, with rotating diagrams of jack-o-lanterns and collums of Irken writing. (A/N: Is Irken writing COOL or what?) Zim smiled. The main computer's scanning system was much more reliable than G.I.R.'s. Speaking of which, where was that robot? He hadn't bothered, injured, or nauseated Zim since he came home, which was unusual. As if in answer to his musings, it was at that moment that a small, metalic object dropped on him from the ceiling, knocking him to the ground. "Ahhhhh! My spine!" Zim screamed. "Surprise, Master!" Yelled G.I.R. happily. Zim glared at G.I.R., who apparently considered this an expression of encouragement. He returned to the screen, G.I.R. looked on, pretending to understand what Zim was doing.
After a few minutes, Zim had learned the jist (gist? I have no clue how to spell it.) of the situation. He found the concept intriguing, a holiday dedicated to fear. Rather than ignore and repress it, as was done the rest of the year, frightening and being frightened was ENCOURAGED on this holiday. Very healthy, very intresting, yes, he had to give these humans credit. He returned his thoughts to the task at hand. He would need to buy a costume, that was vital. He looked up directions to the local costume shop, and put on his disguise. "Whereyagoin, wereyagoinwhereyagoin??? Can I come? Huh? Huh? Can I, Master, Can I?" G.I.R. jumped up and down. "Absolutly NOT G.I.R., you have to stay and guard the base while I'm gone." Zim said firmly. "Oooooookaaaaaaay..." G.I.R. said reluctantly. G.I.R. looked sullen, then brightend. "Can I invite that human next door over? Huh? Can I?" Zim looked at G.I.R. for a long moment and sighed. "Put on your disguise and follow me."
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Zim looked up at the nondiscript building, topped with a sign that simply read, "Costooms" He walked in with G.I.R., ignoring the "No Pets" sign. "Oooooooooooooooo, lookit all the pretty stuffs! I want that one! No, that one! No, wait, wait, that one!" "STOP talking G.I.R.!" Zim hissed, "you don't need a costume." "But I waaaaaaaaaant one!" G.I.R. said, sniffling, eyes filling with tears. Zim opened his mouth to say no, then sighed. "Only if you remain QUIET." he said firmly. "OKAY!" shouted G.I.R., running off. Zim glanced at the cashier, who was deeply engrossed in a "Squee" comic and hadn't noticed them. He paused, then strode down the aisles looking for the simplist, most normal costume he could find.
After a few minutes of searching, he was walking in the direction of the check-out counter, when he was stopped by a familar sound. He stifled a groan. "Hey Zim!" Dib called, "I'm surprised you even knew where to go for a costume. So what are you going as, yourself?" Dib laughed loudly. Zim glared, but found himself at a loss for a reply. He didn't need one, for at that moment he heard another familar sound, "Master, master! Can I get this one? Huh, huh can I?" Zim turned to face G.I.R. who was wearing one of those little pumpkin costumes babies wear, compleate with little "stem" hat. (And he was looking toooooooo kyewt in it!) "Fine G.I.R., just STOP talking." Zim said. Then, with a sly look at Dib added, "Someone CREDIBLE might hear you." Dib opened his mouth in shock, then glared.
"Well, we'll see how credible I am after tomorrow Zim, a party isn't like regular skool, you have to TALK to other people." Dib knew he was embellishing a little, but he didn't care. Zim looked horrified for a moment, then his expression changed to one of determination. "I will DEFEAT this... /party/ Dib-buh, you won't make a fool of THIS Irken Invader!" He screamed, his finger pointed accusingly at Dib. He then threw a handful of bills that was clearly too much at the cashier, and left without waiting for change.
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BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Now I have THREE unfinished Zim fics out! I am SOOOOOO (insert adjective here)!!!!!!!!!!!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read RIR and make suggestions on the character! ALMOST NO ONE has yet, and it's so #^)(*&@%ing irritating!
Halloween is soooooooooorta close, so I wrote a fic about the IZ gang taking on my fav holiday. Not the not at all subtle slam on my schools s----y (not "spiffy" :) dress code, and the even less subtle apperance of my (possible) haloween costume, (not REALLY a mary sue, 'cuz I say one word and then I'm gone.)
BTW- you'll not I stopped writing their names ZIM and DIB, after noticing that causes people to projectile vomit out of every orifice, (hee hee, I've discovered JTHM lately and have been quoting it like mad)
Disclaimer: All the IZ characters (all of the skool children named are from the show) and the line 'projectile vomit out of every orifice' belong to Jhonen Vasquez, (hearts appear in eyes at mention of that name)
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"...And so, the ugly duckling was thrown into the oven, and baked alive at 350. So you see children, anyone remotley different than the most popular people is doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed, doomed, doomed..."
Zim didn't know how much more of this he could take. Desperatly he tried to recall the exercises he learned at the Invader's Acadamy intended to stave off bordeom-driven insanity on long space trips. He sighed, making no attempt to disguise it. Originally he had hoped this "skool" would be useful for gathering information, but now it was just a matter of keeping up apperances and preventing suspicion. He glared up at the human(?) leading the class, but then quickly averted his gaze, Miss Bitters wasn't a pretty sight. He began listlessly tapping out old Irken battle songs on his desk.
"...doomed, doomed, doomed. Moving on, the idiots on the skool board have made yet another futile attemt to relieve the inescapable monotony in this room. This year, on Halloween, (Zim's attention was piqued at the unfamilar word) you will come to skool in costumes, and there will be an hour long party before classes begin and all happines is stifled. Participation is mandatory, anyone who doesn't participate in full will be chained in the dungeon for a week."
"'Chained in the dungeon'? Is that even legal?" A familar voice asked. Zim gritted his teeth. Miss Bitters ignored Dib's question, as usual. She(?) continued. "The following is a list of unacceptable costumes..." At that, a large roll of paper that extended to the far wall of the classroom was unrolled. "Costumes with gang colors, costumes without gang colors, costumes involving face paint, masks, shirts or shoes, costumes contianing anything that can be readily used as a weapon, such as hats,..." Miss Bitters showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, Dib divirted his attention from her droning voice. "Hey Zim," he said, sneering, "you don't need to do anything different for Halloween, you wear a 'costume' every day!" he snickered. Zim clenched his fists in rage as his mind raced to think of a crushing retort.
"Hey, what's wrong with you Dib, are you making fun of the way he looks?" Brian asked. "Yeah," joined Rob, "it's bad enough you run around saying he's an alien, now you're poking fun at his skin condition?" "What?" said Dib, "No, I-" "Just because he's different dosen't give you the right to TEASE him!" Zita yelled, tearing at her hair, going a bit ballistic. Zim feigned sadness, fighting hard not to burst out laughing. Suddenly he didn't feel so bad that all his classmates had escaped their previous moosey fate. Dib fumed.
"... belts, socks, bright colors, dark colors, and anything remotley comfertable or good-looking. Now go home."
---------
Dib burst into his house and threw his bags down angrily. Ohhh, that Zim. Why did the other kids always defend him? They ignored and teased Zim, but they acted so self-rightious all the same. Well, someday when he was a world-famous paranormal investigator, he'd show 'em, he'd show 'em all. He walked towards the bathroom, and found Gaz there putting on her zombie makeup. She had specifically designed her costume to look like one of the creatures from 'Horror, Mayhem, Blood & Death III', her new GameSlave cartrige.
"Gaz, Halloween isn't until tomorrow." "I know," Gaz said, not turning around, "but I want to make sure I get this EXACTLY right, so I'm practising." The tone of her voice seemed to say how angry she was that he hadn't assumed this. Halloween had alway's been Gaz's favorite holiday. Dib's too, although this year he had been so busy trying to stop Zim from stopping him from stopping him from stopping him from exposing him, he had compleatly forgotten about it. Well, he supposed he could replace his smiley-face shirt with a red one, then tie a black towel around his neck and go as a vampire. He'd still need plastic fangs, but he could just run out and pick those up right now. He turned around and headed for the costume shop.
--------
Meanwhile...
A small green object flew across the huge red room on a... cool floaty thing. Zim, sans disguise, shouted at a concave wall. "Computer! Bring up entire file on... Halloween." he pronounced the last word slowly and deliberatly. Immediatly a giant green screen appeared, with rotating diagrams of jack-o-lanterns and collums of Irken writing. (A/N: Is Irken writing COOL or what?) Zim smiled. The main computer's scanning system was much more reliable than G.I.R.'s. Speaking of which, where was that robot? He hadn't bothered, injured, or nauseated Zim since he came home, which was unusual. As if in answer to his musings, it was at that moment that a small, metalic object dropped on him from the ceiling, knocking him to the ground. "Ahhhhh! My spine!" Zim screamed. "Surprise, Master!" Yelled G.I.R. happily. Zim glared at G.I.R., who apparently considered this an expression of encouragement. He returned to the screen, G.I.R. looked on, pretending to understand what Zim was doing.
After a few minutes, Zim had learned the jist (gist? I have no clue how to spell it.) of the situation. He found the concept intriguing, a holiday dedicated to fear. Rather than ignore and repress it, as was done the rest of the year, frightening and being frightened was ENCOURAGED on this holiday. Very healthy, very intresting, yes, he had to give these humans credit. He returned his thoughts to the task at hand. He would need to buy a costume, that was vital. He looked up directions to the local costume shop, and put on his disguise. "Whereyagoin, wereyagoinwhereyagoin??? Can I come? Huh? Huh? Can I, Master, Can I?" G.I.R. jumped up and down. "Absolutly NOT G.I.R., you have to stay and guard the base while I'm gone." Zim said firmly. "Oooooookaaaaaaay..." G.I.R. said reluctantly. G.I.R. looked sullen, then brightend. "Can I invite that human next door over? Huh? Can I?" Zim looked at G.I.R. for a long moment and sighed. "Put on your disguise and follow me."
------
Zim looked up at the nondiscript building, topped with a sign that simply read, "Costooms" He walked in with G.I.R., ignoring the "No Pets" sign. "Oooooooooooooooo, lookit all the pretty stuffs! I want that one! No, that one! No, wait, wait, that one!" "STOP talking G.I.R.!" Zim hissed, "you don't need a costume." "But I waaaaaaaaaant one!" G.I.R. said, sniffling, eyes filling with tears. Zim opened his mouth to say no, then sighed. "Only if you remain QUIET." he said firmly. "OKAY!" shouted G.I.R., running off. Zim glanced at the cashier, who was deeply engrossed in a "Squee" comic and hadn't noticed them. He paused, then strode down the aisles looking for the simplist, most normal costume he could find.
After a few minutes of searching, he was walking in the direction of the check-out counter, when he was stopped by a familar sound. He stifled a groan. "Hey Zim!" Dib called, "I'm surprised you even knew where to go for a costume. So what are you going as, yourself?" Dib laughed loudly. Zim glared, but found himself at a loss for a reply. He didn't need one, for at that moment he heard another familar sound, "Master, master! Can I get this one? Huh, huh can I?" Zim turned to face G.I.R. who was wearing one of those little pumpkin costumes babies wear, compleate with little "stem" hat. (And he was looking toooooooo kyewt in it!) "Fine G.I.R., just STOP talking." Zim said. Then, with a sly look at Dib added, "Someone CREDIBLE might hear you." Dib opened his mouth in shock, then glared.
"Well, we'll see how credible I am after tomorrow Zim, a party isn't like regular skool, you have to TALK to other people." Dib knew he was embellishing a little, but he didn't care. Zim looked horrified for a moment, then his expression changed to one of determination. "I will DEFEAT this... /party/ Dib-buh, you won't make a fool of THIS Irken Invader!" He screamed, his finger pointed accusingly at Dib. He then threw a handful of bills that was clearly too much at the cashier, and left without waiting for change.
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BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Now I have THREE unfinished Zim fics out! I am SOOOOOO (insert adjective here)!!!!!!!!!!!