The Lake
Later the next day,the other kids decided to go swimming. That idea was far from Zim's agenda.There was noway he was getting near THAT lake. His mind was on something else,mainly escaping. Maybe that's why he didn't see the soccer ball come flying right at him. WHAM! Hitting him in the back of the head,sending him rolling head-over-heels down the small hill he had been sitting on,right into the shallow end of the lake.
"Someone call 9-1-1" shouted a young girl. The children came running,only to back away as fast as they had come.What they saw was the new kid,turning a crimson red,with smoke billowing from his seemingly boiling skin. Zim began screaming"wo wo esaelp pleh em,teg em attuo ereh!" in his native tongue,which of course no one understood.
Zim tried to get up by himself but was unable.The next thing he remembered,was waking up in his bed.Hans was there,sitting in a chair beside the bed,with a deep look of concern and compassion on his face. "Paste,paste,paste" whispered Zim "Must have paste" But Hans did not understand. Zim fell back into a fretful sleep.
The next morning while everyone was at breakfast, Zim asked Hans to show him where the storage room was.
"Was Mochest du,da?" "English please!?!" "Oops, I meant to say, what do you want to do there?" "Paste" was all Zim would say. "Ok man,let's get to it!" said Hans.
They quietly headed to the storage room,making sure they weren't seen.When they arrived,Zim took out a bobby pin,and skillfully picked the lock. "CLICK" one try was all it took,and the door was open. "Let's get the paste and get the heck outta dodge." "Dodge? Dodge what?" Hans asked as he looked around.But Zim was already halfway down the hall. "What choo want paste for?" asked Hans. "For the next time" replied Zim with a smirk.
Later the next day,the other kids decided to go swimming. That idea was far from Zim's agenda.There was noway he was getting near THAT lake. His mind was on something else,mainly escaping. Maybe that's why he didn't see the soccer ball come flying right at him. WHAM! Hitting him in the back of the head,sending him rolling head-over-heels down the small hill he had been sitting on,right into the shallow end of the lake.
"Someone call 9-1-1" shouted a young girl. The children came running,only to back away as fast as they had come.What they saw was the new kid,turning a crimson red,with smoke billowing from his seemingly boiling skin. Zim began screaming"wo wo esaelp pleh em,teg em attuo ereh!" in his native tongue,which of course no one understood.
Zim tried to get up by himself but was unable.The next thing he remembered,was waking up in his bed.Hans was there,sitting in a chair beside the bed,with a deep look of concern and compassion on his face. "Paste,paste,paste" whispered Zim "Must have paste" But Hans did not understand. Zim fell back into a fretful sleep.
The next morning while everyone was at breakfast, Zim asked Hans to show him where the storage room was.
"Was Mochest du,da?" "English please!?!" "Oops, I meant to say, what do you want to do there?" "Paste" was all Zim would say. "Ok man,let's get to it!" said Hans.
They quietly headed to the storage room,making sure they weren't seen.When they arrived,Zim took out a bobby pin,and skillfully picked the lock. "CLICK" one try was all it took,and the door was open. "Let's get the paste and get the heck outta dodge." "Dodge? Dodge what?" Hans asked as he looked around.But Zim was already halfway down the hall. "What choo want paste for?" asked Hans. "For the next time" replied Zim with a smirk.
