This is my first Invader Zim fic, so I hope you like it. Please Review. ^_^p

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Everyone couldn't wait to get out of skool. Just five more minutes, and it would be the weekend. This weekend was special, because it was the big tri-county fair. Gaz, however, could care less. She never went to the tri-county fair, neither did Dib, and it was doubtful that Professor Membrane even knew that it was happening.p

Gaz just wanted to get home and play her GameSlave. Finally, the bell rang and there was a mad rush to get out of the school. The front door was jammed with people trying to get out. Gaz was tossed around a bit, but she came out unscathed and annoyed.

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Zim had to stay a few minutes after class because he had threatened to set some underclassmen of fire. Though Ms. Bitters really wouldn't have minded a few students going up in a blazing inferno, it was skool policy to at least give him a talking-to.

"Don't do it again, Zim, or I will be forced to feed your brains to the guard dogs in the back."

"There aren't any…"

"YES THERE ARE. Now go before the site of your ugly child-like self repulses me to do it anyways."

Zim left. He had pretty much learned that Ms. Bitters threats were sometimes carried out, and sometimes not. It was always a gamble. On his way out the front door, he saw something pink and shiny on the ground, and picked it up. "What kind of pathetic human contraption is this?" he said to himself in a loud voice. He ran his finger over the word "GameSlave" embossed on the front.

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After skool, Dib went up to his room, sat in front of his telescope, and watched Zim walk home. Strangely, a small pink thing in his hands occupied Zim's attention. Before he had much time to think about it, he heard an ear-piercing scream come from Gaz's room. As quickly as he could, he ran in there to find Gaz sitting on the floor. The contents of her book bag were all over the place. She was sitting with her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth saying, "No. Game. Slave." Over and over again.

The situation was clear: Gaz had either lost her GameSlave, or it had been stolen. Dib tried to comprehend the fact that she would even let it out of her site when he remembered the pink thing in Zim's hands. He had stolen Gaz's GameSlave! No alien scum was going to steal his sisters most prized possession, even if it was Gaz.

He rushed back into his room and looked into the telescope. Things were peaceful at Zim's house. He would wait until dark to move in…p

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Dib waited behind the bushes that surrounded Zim's property. It was now 9:00. All was quiet. In the downstairs window, he saw a flashing, as if someone was watching TV. He hoped that it was Zim, and that he was distracted enough to not notice an intruder. But it really wasn't Zim watching TV. It was Gir. Zim was downstairs in the bowels of his laboratory plotting the demise of the human race.

Silently, Dib tiptoed around the side of the house and found a ground-floor window that was dark. He opened it and crawled inside. It would have been smooth, but one of his feet got stuck and he fell in with a loud thump. He quickly got up and saw that he was in the kitchen.

"Pig? Pig, is that you?" said a voice from the living room. Footsteps started to come down the hall. "Pig?" Dib quickly found the pantry and slipped inside. It was very cramped, and it smelled of eggs and stale crackers. Then the kitchen light turned on.

"Pig?" Then a second set of footsteps entered. "Oh, hello Master…"

"Shh!" Then the pair of footsteps went away, and came back again a few minutes later. Dib was starting to worry now. After a minute or two, he began to get hot, then dizzy. It was becoming harder to breathe, and his vision was slowly starting to blur.

The pantry door opened, and Zim was standing there, wearing some sort of gas mask. The air around him was very smoky. That was the last think Dib saw before he passed out.

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The sound of clanking woke Dib up, and he was very groggy. It took a second for him to realize that he was bound hand and foot to a table. A table that was leaning forward at a 45-degree angle. A table that was surrounded with bright lights. A table that he'd always hoped to see Zim on.

But he wasn't surrounded by hosts of alien scientists waiting to look at his organs. In fact, no one was in the room, if you could call it a room. It was filled with twisting pipes, complicated control panels, and large television screens. It had to be the lair of Zim.

Dib laid there for a few minutes, listening to the humming of equipment, before he heard footsteps approaching. It was Zim. Zim now caught Dib's eye, and smiled. Dib looked away, almost embarrassed. Zim had the upper hand, and he knew it.