Zim's House

"I'm home, Gir," Zim sang cheerfully.  He suddenly became annoyed, "Gir?"

"My Lord," Gir's eyes flashed from aqua to red.  Gir had covered his metal head in mascara and lipstick.  He wanted to be like Brittany Spears.  He leaped from his pile of Avon rubbish and stood in attention.

Zim stared, held back his nausea, and sighed. "Gir, get the Voot Cruiser ready.  I'm going out."

"But I need more lipstick." Gir said in his shrill metallic voice.  He leaped onto the couch and tuned into the Scary Monkey Show.  As the introductory song jingled, Gir tumbled around giggling.

"Nevermind, then." Zim glared at his incompetent robot, stomped off in exasperation, and announced. "Computer, take me to the docking bay."

Clanging, banging, and scratching noises resounded from the roof.  The noise stopped abruptly and Zim's voice shouted from a distance, "Gir, where's my utility pack?"

Gir's vision remained fixated upon the idiot box, and he stared in awe at the mystically scary monkey.  Happy chime music rang in the background and the monkey growled.  Gir ate some lipstick.

"Intruder alert," the computer sent out the alarm to the doorbell chime, "Intruder alert."

Zim entered the room through a closet and grimaced, "How many times have I told you not to turn off the lawn gnomes, GIR?  We destroy the humans.  We don't barter with them!"

"Hee." Gir's tongue hung from his lower lip and he blinked at Zim.  He approached his master, opened his mouth, and red lipstick dripped and oozed onto Zim, "Somebody needs a hug."

Zim retreated toward the door fuming.  He was furious that Gir had replaced the Voot Cruiser's engine with pencil shavings.  To top that, Gir had turned off the base's outer defense to get more toxic face paint.  The door chimed again and Zim swung the door open violently, "Look lady, I don't want anymore lip glue!"

He slammed the door and was about to walk away when the doorbell rang again.  He opened the door and saw no cosmetic lady but a dark haired earth girl with large dark eyes staring at him. 

"What are you staring at?" He shouted and covered her face in alien spit.  He pouted fiercely waiting for her response.

"You dropped this," she told him simply and handed him his pink, spotted utility pack.

Zim yelled and snatched it from her. He rummaged its contents and looked at the girl skeptically, "This, is my uncle's prized backpack.  He used it in…The War."

The girl closed her eyes and collapsed at his feet.  Zim recoiled in revulsion.  He stole a glance around the neighborhood to see if anyone had noticed.  Meanwhile Gir, in his suit, had straddled to the doorway and pointed to the prostrate girl with a grin.  "Awww, I think she likes you.  Can we keep her?"

"No, Gir," Zim struggled to think. "She must hold some key information about me and the base.  But if I erase her memory…"

Zim recalled his last mind-altering mission and trembled.  Gir, in the meantime, had returned to his show.  Suddenly, the phone rang and Gir grabbed the receiver.

"Hello," the dull voice droned, "Can I talk to the head of the household?"

"You can't have it!" Gir squeaked and hung up.

"Who was that?" Zim awoke from reverie.

"I dunno." Gir answered evasively.

The phone rang again and Zim commanded, "Gir, watch the captive, while I answer the phone."

"Hello?" Zim demanded into the phone and did not notice the girl stir.

"Yes, this is Marie Maria from Poop Avon speaking," said a loud lady, "Since Poop Cola and Avon's merger, we'd like to offer you—"

Zim slammed the receiver and connected to his utility pack.  "Gir, we must get rid of this human somehow.  It's probably getting hair all over the room now."

Zim turned about to deal with the dirt child and howled in fright.