Greta, stop looking over my shoulder.
Thank you.
Ahem, now here is the *counts on fingers* fourth chapt-
Greta, I thought I told you to stop looking over my shoulder.
THANK YOU.
Greta: Kat, that wasn't looking over your shoulder. THIS is looking over you shoulder *puts chin on Kat23a's shoulder, digging it in painfully*.
Go. Away.
Please?
GET OFF MY SHOULDER!!!
/Thank/ you.
NOW, as I was saying, here is the fourth chapter of 'A Christmas Carol: The DOOMED version.' It's the only chapter that's actually pretty serious.
Audience: Kat23a? /Serious/? Yeah, right.
Um, well, /mostly/ serious. Kinda.
Greta, I thought I told you to go away.
Thank you.
GO AWAY! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE DOOR!
Thank-
GO AWAAAAAAY!!!!!!
*sigh* Sisters. Doncha love 'em? *smacks head on keyboard again*
fgvbhjnnjuyhgfbvgbv
*looks up from keyboard* Oh, yeah. If you think I own anything famous, /especially/ anything IZ, you're insane. *down goes the head*
rftbvg trgfvb
-- ~ --
The mist swirled around Zim as he tried to see through it, looking for the next ghost. The run- down buildings and dirty streets seemed to have disappeared completely, leaving Zim in this world of fog. Curiously, the fog still did not sting or burn, like it normally would have. Zim began to feel cold, and crossed his arms around his body. He was getting annoyed. He had no idea where he was in the city, and even if he did, he could barely see his own feet in this fog.
Suddenly, soundlessly, a dark, robed figure appeared through the fog. It was tall enough to rival the Tallest, and seemed to glide towards Zim, rather than walk. As it approached silently, Zim felt a small twinge of fear. Pushing the feeling away, he straightened himself up and put on a haughty expression.
"So, I suppose that you're the ghost of Christmas future? Come here to 'show me the true meaning of Christmas?'"
The specter regarded Zim silently, then gave one slow nod. This unnerved him a little, but he shook it off.
"...And I suppose Ms. Bitters is under that robe? Or Gaz on stilts?"
This time, the head shook in a slow 'no.' Zim started getting annoyed at its silence.
"Well, can't you talk? What do you have to show me about this future of yours?"
This time, the spirit raised one skeletal hand and pointed past Zim. Zim stared at the bleached- white bones and gulped. Then, slowly, he turned to see what it was pointing at. As the sight before him registered, his eyes widened and he gasped.
Hee, hee. You thought I ended, didn't you? This is what's known as a 'dramatic pause.'
Annoying, ain't it?
I bet you /really/ want to know what happens next, don't you?
The sight which stunned Zim so much was the city he had lived in for so long, but it was...a wasteland. The streets, dingy to start with, were now positively /filthy/, and even the skyscrapers had broken windows. A tattered Irken flag fluttered from a flagpole in a nearby park. Several people walked the streets, but they scurried like scared mice, looking around them the whole time, like they expected to be attacked at any moment. Zim's eyes began watering.
"It's....it's /beautiful!/ HAH! BEHOLD, EARTH! I, ZIM, AM YOUR NEW RULER! ALL MUST OBEY MY FIST! FEEL MY WRATH! I SHALL CRUSH ALL YOU LIKE CHEESE- ENGORGED COCKROACHES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MUAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Behind him, the phantom shook its head. It glided forward until it caught Zim's eye, and pointed at the torn flag. Zim looked closer at it, and made a sound somewhat like "Whuuuh?"
Someone had taken white paint and painted a mustache on the Irken logo. Zim had barely finished noticing this when the ghost pointed to the side of a building. Zim made a sound like "Whaaahaa!" as he saw the spray-painted writings on it, saying things like 'Down with Zim!' or 'Zim eets dookee', along with a picture of Zim with crossed eyes, his tongue hanging out, and brown stuff (presumably 'dookee') in his mouth. The specter pointed to a bench, which had carved on it, "Dib rocks!" and "Paranormalists forever!" Zim continued to make surprised sounds as more and more things were pointed out proving that his conquest of the planet was not complete. Finally, Zim could take no more.
"ENOUGH!!," Zim yelled.
The spirit stopped pointing and merely gazed at Zim's back as Zim jumped on the bench and shook his fist at the sky.
"IF THIS IS THE FUTURE, THEN I SHALL BE EVEN....uh.../MORE/ DESTROYING WHEN I DESTROY THE EARTH! DIB WILL BE THE FIRST TO GO! I AM AN ELITE IRKEN INVADER! I SHALL RULE AAAALL! YOU PITIFUL EARTH MONKEYS WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT HIT YOU! PREPARE FOR IMMINENT /DOOM/ AND DESTRUCTION, SLUG-PEOPLE OF EARTH! I WILL —"
Zim continued yelling at the world in general. Behind him, the ghost of Christmas future put its face in one hand and shook its head. It started gliding towards Zim again, and a new cloud of fog suddenly began rising. In moments, the world was once again hidden from view.
" — AND I'LL MAKE ALL REBELS WEAR /CHICKENS/ ON THEIR HEADS! DO YOU HEAR ME, EARTH WEASELS?! CHIIIIIICKENS! AND THERE WILL BE NO MORE...Uh...no more...."
Zim noticed that he could no longer see anything but fog. He got off the bench and looked around for the ghost. It was a little ways away, and Zim went up to it and began talking quickly, in a this-is-all-in-a-day's-work-stop-annoying-me-now type voice (think when Zim tried to dump Keef).
"Well, I must say that you have shown me that I'll have to be even tougher on these pathetic earthlings than I thought I would, so I suppose I have to thank you. You have proven yourself to be a useful guide, and I have definitely learned something from this experience, blah, blah, blah, but now I think I've learned everything I need to know, please tell your all your spirit friends they did a fine job, I should really be going now."
Zim turned and began to march away, eyes closed, but he bumped into something. He looked up and saw...the spirit. He looked behind him quickly...no spirit. He began breathing hard. How did it move so fast? Above him, with a whipcrack noise, the spirit shot an arm out and pointed in a new direction. Zim slowly turned to face the new scene.
Oooooo, I'm being annoying again.
Doncha just love it?
Hey, what are you doing with that paper cli- HEY! OW!!! STOPPIT!! HEY!! /THAT/ DOESN'T GO THEROOOOOW!!! OKAY, OKAY, I'LL STOP MAKING THE DRAMATIC PAUSES! sheesh, you'd think they'd learn to take a jok-OW! Okay!! Here it is!
Through the clearing fog, Zim could make out a house. It was rather dingy, but so were all the houses in this future world. The windows were brightly lit, however, and loud music could be heard coming from it. Zim walked up to one of the windows and looked in.
It was obviously some sort of human stinkbeast party. The humans having it were smiling, laughing, and having a good time, although they were all wearing ragged clothes, and more than a few seemed to be missing some teeth. Some noxious food set out on a table across the room actually made the skool food look /good/. Above the dancing and chatting humans, there was a large poster taped to the wall. It was a picture of Zim, looking victorious and proud. On it, any number of crude comments about Zim's ancestry, looks, personal hygiene, or deodorant choice were scrawled, and several darts were sticking out of his forehead. One partygoer, in the spirit of the creative nature of humans everywhere, had blacked out some of Zim's teeth and given him a moustache and an eyepatch. Written on a huge banner above the poster was "The Mighty Invader Zim's Funeral Wake."
On seeing this, Zim's eyes bugged out.
"Oh, those WRETCHED stink worm pig weasel chicken SLUGS! How DARE they insult the mighty Invader Zim's passing?! They will PAY! I will CRUS- huh?"
Unnoticed by Zim, the ghost had glided up behind him, and now it pointed again at a certain table in a corner of the scene. There stood the crushing blow, the final insult, in the form of a still, grey, forlorn figure with a bouquet of cheap flowers sticking out of his head.
"GIR?! What...have they DONE to him?!!"
Zim turned to the still form beside him for an answer, but it merely shook its head and pointed at Zim. With a terrible sinking feeling, Zim realized that what the ghost meant.
"..I.../I/ did this to him, didn't I?"
The phantom merely looked at him.
"Can...can this be changed? I mean, this canNOT be the real future? I can change it, right?"
The specter didn't answer, but turned and began to glide away.
"Hey! WAIT! COME BACK HERE!"
Zim began to chase the spirit, but it always seemed to be a little ways ahead. He kept yelling after it to slow down or to stop, but it didn't pay any attention to him, so Zim stopped yelling to conserve his breath. Faster and faster he went, until he began to gasp for air. He deployed his metal legs — no one could see him in this fog — and STILL he could not keep up with the wraith. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he collapsed. The surrounding fog cleared in moments.
As Zim caught his breath, he began to notice his surroundings. He was lying in loose dirt. He looked up. A skull looked back at him. He yelped and scooted away, backpedaling furiously. Then he realized it wasn't an Irken skull, or even a human skull. It was simply a detailed carving on a stone slab. Zim looked around. There were more of these stone markers, in different shapes, lined up row upon row. They ranged in size and shape from simple stones set in the ground to elaborate statues towering over the rest.
As he noticed this, some small memory came back to him from his research on the human race. Irkens usually disintegrated the deceased, but, if Zim remembered right, humans usually buried their dead. The place where they buried them was called a...a...cement-eerie. But /why/ would he be in a human cement-eerie?
Zim got up and began to walk through the rows. He even read some of the inscriptions on the stone markers. 'Rest in peace, blah blah blah' '...daughter of blah blah,' 'blah may angels watch over blah blah,' '....blah blah Died serving Earth in the Zim Wars,' 'Loving mother of bla —' Waitaminute. 'Died serving Earth in the Zim wars?!' Zim ran back and read the inscription again. Right there! 'Richard Darton, 1982-2028, Died serving Earth in the Zim Wars!' Zim read the words twice, barely believing it. He started walking the rows again, until another caught his eye. 'Nav Carrigan, 1989-2024, Died in a heroic attempt to save Earth in the Zim Wars.' Zim began to run though the rows, stopping to read one gravestone after another. 'Died while bravely fighting in the Zim Wars...,''...Died in a spy mission in the Zim...,' 'Died while piloting a stealth bomber in the...,' 'Died fighting in...,' 'Died while...,' 'Died....,' 'Died...,' 'Died....,' There were so many! Zim always knew that destroying a planet generally included...well, destruction, but one out of every four people here had died fighting /him./ Some were still children! Zim began to feel terrible, almost sick.
Zim tried to get ahold of himself. Why was he feeling like this? He was an Invader. Invaders don't feel pity, so there must be some logical explanation. Well....uh...it was obvious that he was feeling this way...because....beeecaaause heee was...becaause he was sorry about the loss of potential slaves! Of course! That was it! Nothing more! Zim let out a mental sigh of relief. Anyway, mind control was so much.../cleaner/...than pure destruction. Simple. He could simply develop a way to hypnotize the whole human race! Bend them to his will! Maybe reincarnating Pustulio and televising him....anyway, that wouldn't have such a messy loss of life. All these Earth monkeys dying was....well, it was inefficient, wasn't it?
Zim was so caught up in his plans that he nearly bumped into the statue. He looked up just in time. And up. And up. It was...Dib. A statue of Dib. Dib looking braver, more heroic, and less....big-headed than he had ever looked in real life. The statue-Dib was also older. His hair was a bit tousled, and the spike now hung the other way. His famous trenchcoat, looking battered and torn, flew out behind him in an invisible wind. He was leaning forward into the same invisible wind, with a set expression on his face. Held protectively in the crook of one elbow, with his free hand guarding it, was the Earth. Someone, somewhere, must have discovered the Irken height-based heirarchy, because the Dib shown in this statue had obviously been made to rival...no, to BEAT the Tallest in height. The fact that an ugly knee-high figure of Zim stamping his feet and crying was next to it made sure that the point was driven across. On the base of the statue was the inscription. 'Dib. 1989-2032. Died, along with Zim, in mortal combat for the good of Earth. His dying words were, "I want Zim, and his reign of terror, to lie buried with me."'
Below this inscription was another, in smaller print. 'Zim. ????-2032. His dying words were, "No! Not..with a...digusting....stink.....beast!"'
Zim hung his head. So /this/ was how it ended for him. How humiliating. He was an Irken Invader! Defeat like this was not supposed to happen to an Irken Invader.
He felt a presence behind him. He turned, and was suddenly face-to-face (or, more precisely, face-to-bellybutton) with the ghost of Christmas past. He was getting used to the silent arrivals, though, and began speaking.
"Please...there's /got/ to be a way to change this! I WON'T have this future happen! Tell me!"
The ghost remained silent. Zim, who was at the end of his very short rope, suddenly jumped on the ghost, surprising it, and pulled its hood closer to his face.
"TELL ME!!"
The ghost began falling backwards, windmilling its arms in a somehow regal sort of way. Zim realized that jumping it might not have been a good idea, but could not get off. The ghost, and Zim, fell into a cloud of fog. As they hit the cloud, Zim lost his grip on the ghost's hood and fell away from it.
The ground should have been right underneath the fog, but it wasn't. Zim fell, and fell, and fell, screaming the whole way down. He had fallen a large enough distance that he knew that any sort of landing would now be fatal. He screwed his eyes shut against the impact, took a deep breath, and screamed some more.
There was a sudden...end of falling. (A/N: You know, like those dreams where you fall and wake up? You never land, but they're still scary.) Zim gasped and sat up. He was in his sleeping quarters. He looked around. He was still in his uniform (Another A/N: Did you notice he sleeps in it?), but it was unstained and unmarked by his nighttime journeys. The room looked unchanged, and there was no sign of any of his...visitors. The digital timepiece on the wall said it was 7:00 am.
With a shaky voice, he said, "Computer...display my location for the past seven hours."
The computer beeped to itself and replied, "Invader Zim has been in his sleeping quarters for the past seven hours."
Zim sighed shakily. A dream. All of it. Just a dream. He relaxed against the cushions. Then he sat up. What about Gir? What if....?
"Computer, display location of Gir for the past seven hours."
The computer beeped to itself for a bit longer.
"Gir not located."
The computer had not even gotten halfway through the sentence before Zim was out the door.
~ --
"GIR! GIIIR! WHERE ARE YOU? GIIIIR!"
Zim ran through the street, still only wearing his uniform, absently saying 'Happy Holidays' to people he bumped into. As he ran, he absently noticed a battered chihuahua who took one look at him, and then ran away yelping in terror. Zim paid no attention.
He /thought/ this was the place he had seen Gir last night, but he wasn't sur- Wait! Zim spotted a small green and black patch through the freshly-fallen snow. He raced towards it.
When he got there, he dug frantically, ignoring the pain caused by the melting snow. When he finished uncovering the robot, he gently lifted Gir into his arms. Shaking the still form slightly, he called out, "Gir? Can you hear me?"
There was no answer.
Zim lifted the hood of the costume. Gir's eyes were still and black. He lowered his head and held Gir tighter to his chest, and began making his way back to his base.
~ --
The eyes flickered.
Zim held his breath, hoping the repairs had gone right. It had taken hours to clean the ice out of Gir's casing (Zim's hands were now bandaged, since the water burned even through the gloves), and longer to replace the necessary fuses, and longer still to remove the melted-then-frozen remains of some pudding that Gir had stored in one leg. Zim had just given the final shock, which should reactivate the robot, but he didn't know what else he could do now besides hope.
The eyes flickered again. Red, black, blue, red, black....blue!
Gir squinted and sat up. He shook his head, and then looked at Zim, a little confused.
"Master?"
Zim's face lit up, and for a second it looked like he was going to hug the little robot, but he quickly put on a professional, disinterested face.
"Well. Gir. It's good to see you're working again. It took a lot of work to find where you had gotten to, AND I had to fix all the damage that you caused..."
Gir's eyes began watering again.
"M-Master, I'm so sorry. I was a bad S.I.R. You wanted me to go away. It's all my fault! I was so bad!"
Gir started crying, but Zim, looking a whole lot less professional and disinterested, suddenly broke in.
"No, Gir! You weren't bad. I was...just in a bad mood, I never meant any of it!"
Gir stopped crying and looked at Zim, eyes wide. Zim, not noticing this, kept on going.
"...uh...In fact, you even /helped/ me! I thought up a whole new plan to control these pathetic human weaklings! Subliminal messages in their televis-"
As Zim was saying this, Gir face got happier and happier. Finally, he could stand it no longer. While Zim was still talking, Gir launched himself at Zim and attached himself to Zim's head, yelling, "YAAAAAAAY! MASTER'S NOT MAD AT ME ANYMOOOORE!"
Zim, began running around, yelling at Gir, crashing into machinery, and acting as if nothing had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but, if you looked closely, you could see that he was smiling.
-- ~ --
The ghost of Christmas past materializes out of a fog covering the screen, gliding forward eerily. Slowly, a pointing skeletal hand reaches up to the hood, pulling it back, revealing.......Kat23a, wearing a big smile.
Kat23a: Hi! Sorry I had to make a cameo, but when I asked Gaz to be the ghost of Christmas past she told me to stop bothering her, she was twelve levels away from winning, and when I asked Ms. Bitters, /she/ started telling me about how she used to love the holidays, until everything went horribly wrong, and then about how doomed I was, and....well, you know. I wasn't able to get away for hours. Yes, there were other characters I could have used (Keef actually /volunteered/, but he scares me even more than Gaz in a bad mood), but they didn't seem to have...you know, that spooky look. The chihuahua flat-out refused, and I couldn't get the robe to fit him anyway. I went in as a last resort. I also had to jury-rig the special effects. I got the skeletal hand *pulls out a pointing skeletal hand from the robe* from the biology room of the skool, and as for the fog and the gliding effects....well, you know how the Tallest always float and how Purple likes smoke machines?
There's a crashing sound from offstage, and Kat23a whirls around to see what it is. When she does, he eyes widen and she starts floating away as fast as she can. On the other side of the screen, you can see Purple floating quickly after Kat23a, with Red riding piggyback so he won't touch the floor.
Red: SHE'S the one who took my hoverbelt! GET HEEER!
Purple: Give me back my smoke machine!
As the two chase Kat23a offscreen, Gir pops up from below the screen and smiles at the camera, waving. Zim appears next to him (to complete the whole 'sappy ending' effect, you know. ^_^)
Zim: Happy Holidays, everyone.
Gir: And to all a good night!
Thank you.
Ahem, now here is the *counts on fingers* fourth chapt-
Greta, I thought I told you to stop looking over my shoulder.
THANK YOU.
Greta: Kat, that wasn't looking over your shoulder. THIS is looking over you shoulder *puts chin on Kat23a's shoulder, digging it in painfully*.
Go. Away.
Please?
GET OFF MY SHOULDER!!!
/Thank/ you.
NOW, as I was saying, here is the fourth chapter of 'A Christmas Carol: The DOOMED version.' It's the only chapter that's actually pretty serious.
Audience: Kat23a? /Serious/? Yeah, right.
Um, well, /mostly/ serious. Kinda.
Greta, I thought I told you to go away.
Thank you.
GO AWAY! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE DOOR!
Thank-
GO AWAAAAAAY!!!!!!
*sigh* Sisters. Doncha love 'em? *smacks head on keyboard again*
fgvbhjnnjuyhgfbvgbv
*looks up from keyboard* Oh, yeah. If you think I own anything famous, /especially/ anything IZ, you're insane. *down goes the head*
rftbvg trgfvb
-- ~ --
The mist swirled around Zim as he tried to see through it, looking for the next ghost. The run- down buildings and dirty streets seemed to have disappeared completely, leaving Zim in this world of fog. Curiously, the fog still did not sting or burn, like it normally would have. Zim began to feel cold, and crossed his arms around his body. He was getting annoyed. He had no idea where he was in the city, and even if he did, he could barely see his own feet in this fog.
Suddenly, soundlessly, a dark, robed figure appeared through the fog. It was tall enough to rival the Tallest, and seemed to glide towards Zim, rather than walk. As it approached silently, Zim felt a small twinge of fear. Pushing the feeling away, he straightened himself up and put on a haughty expression.
"So, I suppose that you're the ghost of Christmas future? Come here to 'show me the true meaning of Christmas?'"
The specter regarded Zim silently, then gave one slow nod. This unnerved him a little, but he shook it off.
"...And I suppose Ms. Bitters is under that robe? Or Gaz on stilts?"
This time, the head shook in a slow 'no.' Zim started getting annoyed at its silence.
"Well, can't you talk? What do you have to show me about this future of yours?"
This time, the spirit raised one skeletal hand and pointed past Zim. Zim stared at the bleached- white bones and gulped. Then, slowly, he turned to see what it was pointing at. As the sight before him registered, his eyes widened and he gasped.
Hee, hee. You thought I ended, didn't you? This is what's known as a 'dramatic pause.'
Annoying, ain't it?
I bet you /really/ want to know what happens next, don't you?
The sight which stunned Zim so much was the city he had lived in for so long, but it was...a wasteland. The streets, dingy to start with, were now positively /filthy/, and even the skyscrapers had broken windows. A tattered Irken flag fluttered from a flagpole in a nearby park. Several people walked the streets, but they scurried like scared mice, looking around them the whole time, like they expected to be attacked at any moment. Zim's eyes began watering.
"It's....it's /beautiful!/ HAH! BEHOLD, EARTH! I, ZIM, AM YOUR NEW RULER! ALL MUST OBEY MY FIST! FEEL MY WRATH! I SHALL CRUSH ALL YOU LIKE CHEESE- ENGORGED COCKROACHES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MUAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Behind him, the phantom shook its head. It glided forward until it caught Zim's eye, and pointed at the torn flag. Zim looked closer at it, and made a sound somewhat like "Whuuuh?"
Someone had taken white paint and painted a mustache on the Irken logo. Zim had barely finished noticing this when the ghost pointed to the side of a building. Zim made a sound like "Whaaahaa!" as he saw the spray-painted writings on it, saying things like 'Down with Zim!' or 'Zim eets dookee', along with a picture of Zim with crossed eyes, his tongue hanging out, and brown stuff (presumably 'dookee') in his mouth. The specter pointed to a bench, which had carved on it, "Dib rocks!" and "Paranormalists forever!" Zim continued to make surprised sounds as more and more things were pointed out proving that his conquest of the planet was not complete. Finally, Zim could take no more.
"ENOUGH!!," Zim yelled.
The spirit stopped pointing and merely gazed at Zim's back as Zim jumped on the bench and shook his fist at the sky.
"IF THIS IS THE FUTURE, THEN I SHALL BE EVEN....uh.../MORE/ DESTROYING WHEN I DESTROY THE EARTH! DIB WILL BE THE FIRST TO GO! I AM AN ELITE IRKEN INVADER! I SHALL RULE AAAALL! YOU PITIFUL EARTH MONKEYS WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT HIT YOU! PREPARE FOR IMMINENT /DOOM/ AND DESTRUCTION, SLUG-PEOPLE OF EARTH! I WILL —"
Zim continued yelling at the world in general. Behind him, the ghost of Christmas future put its face in one hand and shook its head. It started gliding towards Zim again, and a new cloud of fog suddenly began rising. In moments, the world was once again hidden from view.
" — AND I'LL MAKE ALL REBELS WEAR /CHICKENS/ ON THEIR HEADS! DO YOU HEAR ME, EARTH WEASELS?! CHIIIIIICKENS! AND THERE WILL BE NO MORE...Uh...no more...."
Zim noticed that he could no longer see anything but fog. He got off the bench and looked around for the ghost. It was a little ways away, and Zim went up to it and began talking quickly, in a this-is-all-in-a-day's-work-stop-annoying-me-now type voice (think when Zim tried to dump Keef).
"Well, I must say that you have shown me that I'll have to be even tougher on these pathetic earthlings than I thought I would, so I suppose I have to thank you. You have proven yourself to be a useful guide, and I have definitely learned something from this experience, blah, blah, blah, but now I think I've learned everything I need to know, please tell your all your spirit friends they did a fine job, I should really be going now."
Zim turned and began to march away, eyes closed, but he bumped into something. He looked up and saw...the spirit. He looked behind him quickly...no spirit. He began breathing hard. How did it move so fast? Above him, with a whipcrack noise, the spirit shot an arm out and pointed in a new direction. Zim slowly turned to face the new scene.
Oooooo, I'm being annoying again.
Doncha just love it?
Hey, what are you doing with that paper cli- HEY! OW!!! STOPPIT!! HEY!! /THAT/ DOESN'T GO THEROOOOOW!!! OKAY, OKAY, I'LL STOP MAKING THE DRAMATIC PAUSES! sheesh, you'd think they'd learn to take a jok-OW! Okay!! Here it is!
Through the clearing fog, Zim could make out a house. It was rather dingy, but so were all the houses in this future world. The windows were brightly lit, however, and loud music could be heard coming from it. Zim walked up to one of the windows and looked in.
It was obviously some sort of human stinkbeast party. The humans having it were smiling, laughing, and having a good time, although they were all wearing ragged clothes, and more than a few seemed to be missing some teeth. Some noxious food set out on a table across the room actually made the skool food look /good/. Above the dancing and chatting humans, there was a large poster taped to the wall. It was a picture of Zim, looking victorious and proud. On it, any number of crude comments about Zim's ancestry, looks, personal hygiene, or deodorant choice were scrawled, and several darts were sticking out of his forehead. One partygoer, in the spirit of the creative nature of humans everywhere, had blacked out some of Zim's teeth and given him a moustache and an eyepatch. Written on a huge banner above the poster was "The Mighty Invader Zim's Funeral Wake."
On seeing this, Zim's eyes bugged out.
"Oh, those WRETCHED stink worm pig weasel chicken SLUGS! How DARE they insult the mighty Invader Zim's passing?! They will PAY! I will CRUS- huh?"
Unnoticed by Zim, the ghost had glided up behind him, and now it pointed again at a certain table in a corner of the scene. There stood the crushing blow, the final insult, in the form of a still, grey, forlorn figure with a bouquet of cheap flowers sticking out of his head.
"GIR?! What...have they DONE to him?!!"
Zim turned to the still form beside him for an answer, but it merely shook its head and pointed at Zim. With a terrible sinking feeling, Zim realized that what the ghost meant.
"..I.../I/ did this to him, didn't I?"
The phantom merely looked at him.
"Can...can this be changed? I mean, this canNOT be the real future? I can change it, right?"
The specter didn't answer, but turned and began to glide away.
"Hey! WAIT! COME BACK HERE!"
Zim began to chase the spirit, but it always seemed to be a little ways ahead. He kept yelling after it to slow down or to stop, but it didn't pay any attention to him, so Zim stopped yelling to conserve his breath. Faster and faster he went, until he began to gasp for air. He deployed his metal legs — no one could see him in this fog — and STILL he could not keep up with the wraith. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he collapsed. The surrounding fog cleared in moments.
As Zim caught his breath, he began to notice his surroundings. He was lying in loose dirt. He looked up. A skull looked back at him. He yelped and scooted away, backpedaling furiously. Then he realized it wasn't an Irken skull, or even a human skull. It was simply a detailed carving on a stone slab. Zim looked around. There were more of these stone markers, in different shapes, lined up row upon row. They ranged in size and shape from simple stones set in the ground to elaborate statues towering over the rest.
As he noticed this, some small memory came back to him from his research on the human race. Irkens usually disintegrated the deceased, but, if Zim remembered right, humans usually buried their dead. The place where they buried them was called a...a...cement-eerie. But /why/ would he be in a human cement-eerie?
Zim got up and began to walk through the rows. He even read some of the inscriptions on the stone markers. 'Rest in peace, blah blah blah' '...daughter of blah blah,' 'blah may angels watch over blah blah,' '....blah blah Died serving Earth in the Zim Wars,' 'Loving mother of bla —' Waitaminute. 'Died serving Earth in the Zim wars?!' Zim ran back and read the inscription again. Right there! 'Richard Darton, 1982-2028, Died serving Earth in the Zim Wars!' Zim read the words twice, barely believing it. He started walking the rows again, until another caught his eye. 'Nav Carrigan, 1989-2024, Died in a heroic attempt to save Earth in the Zim Wars.' Zim began to run though the rows, stopping to read one gravestone after another. 'Died while bravely fighting in the Zim Wars...,''...Died in a spy mission in the Zim...,' 'Died while piloting a stealth bomber in the...,' 'Died fighting in...,' 'Died while...,' 'Died....,' 'Died...,' 'Died....,' There were so many! Zim always knew that destroying a planet generally included...well, destruction, but one out of every four people here had died fighting /him./ Some were still children! Zim began to feel terrible, almost sick.
Zim tried to get ahold of himself. Why was he feeling like this? He was an Invader. Invaders don't feel pity, so there must be some logical explanation. Well....uh...it was obvious that he was feeling this way...because....beeecaaause heee was...becaause he was sorry about the loss of potential slaves! Of course! That was it! Nothing more! Zim let out a mental sigh of relief. Anyway, mind control was so much.../cleaner/...than pure destruction. Simple. He could simply develop a way to hypnotize the whole human race! Bend them to his will! Maybe reincarnating Pustulio and televising him....anyway, that wouldn't have such a messy loss of life. All these Earth monkeys dying was....well, it was inefficient, wasn't it?
Zim was so caught up in his plans that he nearly bumped into the statue. He looked up just in time. And up. And up. It was...Dib. A statue of Dib. Dib looking braver, more heroic, and less....big-headed than he had ever looked in real life. The statue-Dib was also older. His hair was a bit tousled, and the spike now hung the other way. His famous trenchcoat, looking battered and torn, flew out behind him in an invisible wind. He was leaning forward into the same invisible wind, with a set expression on his face. Held protectively in the crook of one elbow, with his free hand guarding it, was the Earth. Someone, somewhere, must have discovered the Irken height-based heirarchy, because the Dib shown in this statue had obviously been made to rival...no, to BEAT the Tallest in height. The fact that an ugly knee-high figure of Zim stamping his feet and crying was next to it made sure that the point was driven across. On the base of the statue was the inscription. 'Dib. 1989-2032. Died, along with Zim, in mortal combat for the good of Earth. His dying words were, "I want Zim, and his reign of terror, to lie buried with me."'
Below this inscription was another, in smaller print. 'Zim. ????-2032. His dying words were, "No! Not..with a...digusting....stink.....beast!"'
Zim hung his head. So /this/ was how it ended for him. How humiliating. He was an Irken Invader! Defeat like this was not supposed to happen to an Irken Invader.
He felt a presence behind him. He turned, and was suddenly face-to-face (or, more precisely, face-to-bellybutton) with the ghost of Christmas past. He was getting used to the silent arrivals, though, and began speaking.
"Please...there's /got/ to be a way to change this! I WON'T have this future happen! Tell me!"
The ghost remained silent. Zim, who was at the end of his very short rope, suddenly jumped on the ghost, surprising it, and pulled its hood closer to his face.
"TELL ME!!"
The ghost began falling backwards, windmilling its arms in a somehow regal sort of way. Zim realized that jumping it might not have been a good idea, but could not get off. The ghost, and Zim, fell into a cloud of fog. As they hit the cloud, Zim lost his grip on the ghost's hood and fell away from it.
The ground should have been right underneath the fog, but it wasn't. Zim fell, and fell, and fell, screaming the whole way down. He had fallen a large enough distance that he knew that any sort of landing would now be fatal. He screwed his eyes shut against the impact, took a deep breath, and screamed some more.
There was a sudden...end of falling. (A/N: You know, like those dreams where you fall and wake up? You never land, but they're still scary.) Zim gasped and sat up. He was in his sleeping quarters. He looked around. He was still in his uniform (Another A/N: Did you notice he sleeps in it?), but it was unstained and unmarked by his nighttime journeys. The room looked unchanged, and there was no sign of any of his...visitors. The digital timepiece on the wall said it was 7:00 am.
With a shaky voice, he said, "Computer...display my location for the past seven hours."
The computer beeped to itself and replied, "Invader Zim has been in his sleeping quarters for the past seven hours."
Zim sighed shakily. A dream. All of it. Just a dream. He relaxed against the cushions. Then he sat up. What about Gir? What if....?
"Computer, display location of Gir for the past seven hours."
The computer beeped to itself for a bit longer.
"Gir not located."
The computer had not even gotten halfway through the sentence before Zim was out the door.
~ --
"GIR! GIIIR! WHERE ARE YOU? GIIIIR!"
Zim ran through the street, still only wearing his uniform, absently saying 'Happy Holidays' to people he bumped into. As he ran, he absently noticed a battered chihuahua who took one look at him, and then ran away yelping in terror. Zim paid no attention.
He /thought/ this was the place he had seen Gir last night, but he wasn't sur- Wait! Zim spotted a small green and black patch through the freshly-fallen snow. He raced towards it.
When he got there, he dug frantically, ignoring the pain caused by the melting snow. When he finished uncovering the robot, he gently lifted Gir into his arms. Shaking the still form slightly, he called out, "Gir? Can you hear me?"
There was no answer.
Zim lifted the hood of the costume. Gir's eyes were still and black. He lowered his head and held Gir tighter to his chest, and began making his way back to his base.
~ --
The eyes flickered.
Zim held his breath, hoping the repairs had gone right. It had taken hours to clean the ice out of Gir's casing (Zim's hands were now bandaged, since the water burned even through the gloves), and longer to replace the necessary fuses, and longer still to remove the melted-then-frozen remains of some pudding that Gir had stored in one leg. Zim had just given the final shock, which should reactivate the robot, but he didn't know what else he could do now besides hope.
The eyes flickered again. Red, black, blue, red, black....blue!
Gir squinted and sat up. He shook his head, and then looked at Zim, a little confused.
"Master?"
Zim's face lit up, and for a second it looked like he was going to hug the little robot, but he quickly put on a professional, disinterested face.
"Well. Gir. It's good to see you're working again. It took a lot of work to find where you had gotten to, AND I had to fix all the damage that you caused..."
Gir's eyes began watering again.
"M-Master, I'm so sorry. I was a bad S.I.R. You wanted me to go away. It's all my fault! I was so bad!"
Gir started crying, but Zim, looking a whole lot less professional and disinterested, suddenly broke in.
"No, Gir! You weren't bad. I was...just in a bad mood, I never meant any of it!"
Gir stopped crying and looked at Zim, eyes wide. Zim, not noticing this, kept on going.
"...uh...In fact, you even /helped/ me! I thought up a whole new plan to control these pathetic human weaklings! Subliminal messages in their televis-"
As Zim was saying this, Gir face got happier and happier. Finally, he could stand it no longer. While Zim was still talking, Gir launched himself at Zim and attached himself to Zim's head, yelling, "YAAAAAAAY! MASTER'S NOT MAD AT ME ANYMOOOORE!"
Zim, began running around, yelling at Gir, crashing into machinery, and acting as if nothing had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but, if you looked closely, you could see that he was smiling.
-- ~ --
The ghost of Christmas past materializes out of a fog covering the screen, gliding forward eerily. Slowly, a pointing skeletal hand reaches up to the hood, pulling it back, revealing.......Kat23a, wearing a big smile.
Kat23a: Hi! Sorry I had to make a cameo, but when I asked Gaz to be the ghost of Christmas past she told me to stop bothering her, she was twelve levels away from winning, and when I asked Ms. Bitters, /she/ started telling me about how she used to love the holidays, until everything went horribly wrong, and then about how doomed I was, and....well, you know. I wasn't able to get away for hours. Yes, there were other characters I could have used (Keef actually /volunteered/, but he scares me even more than Gaz in a bad mood), but they didn't seem to have...you know, that spooky look. The chihuahua flat-out refused, and I couldn't get the robe to fit him anyway. I went in as a last resort. I also had to jury-rig the special effects. I got the skeletal hand *pulls out a pointing skeletal hand from the robe* from the biology room of the skool, and as for the fog and the gliding effects....well, you know how the Tallest always float and how Purple likes smoke machines?
There's a crashing sound from offstage, and Kat23a whirls around to see what it is. When she does, he eyes widen and she starts floating away as fast as she can. On the other side of the screen, you can see Purple floating quickly after Kat23a, with Red riding piggyback so he won't touch the floor.
Red: SHE'S the one who took my hoverbelt! GET HEEER!
Purple: Give me back my smoke machine!
As the two chase Kat23a offscreen, Gir pops up from below the screen and smiles at the camera, waving. Zim appears next to him (to complete the whole 'sappy ending' effect, you know. ^_^)
Zim: Happy Holidays, everyone.
Gir: And to all a good night!
