You know what? I'm running out of things to say up here, so how about I
just get the story rolling?
Zim finished his walk over the bridge, entering the giant pig track. Walking down the stairs to the gambling part, he found himself in a small room with a missing back wall. This missing wall opened onto the pig track, where Zim could see the huge stadium filling up, and the giant pigs were priming up for their run. On either of the other two walls was a booth. One of the booths was where you could place your bets and get piggy hats, but the latter was only available on Tuesdays. The other booth was the photo finish record. You could show a fake betting stub to the guy in the booth and he would get the photograph for the race and week printed on the stub so you could see if the pig you had betted on for that race was a winner or not. In the middle of the room was a staircase that led down to the stadium itself and split off into two corridors, one of which led to the dock at the bottom of the track, the other leading to the giant pigpen. Zim was interested in neither of these, though. He was interested in a corridor on the wall near the gambling booth, which lead to an elevator. Zim walked down the hall to the elevator, admiring the reliefs of piggies on the walls. The elevator doors opened automatically, revealing the operator guy. "Oh, I am sorry sir but only people with VIP passes may go down to the High Roller's Lounge." Said the green fly.
"You mean like this one?" asked Zim, showing the bug his pass.
"Oh, my apologies sir. Please step in."
Zim did so. The bug pushed the button and Zim went down to the High Roller's Lounge. Zim looked around in awe. It trumped his little place by a huge amount. In fact, the entire Café Irkana could fit in this lounge, except for the cactus. Next to the elevator was a staircase that went to the upper part of the lounge, where guests could sip on wine while watching the races. There was a small structure in the middle of the room, the kitchen. A platform bridged the stairs and the top of the kitchen, forming the upper level. At the end of this kitchen was a giant bronzed pig statue. There were lots of couches and tables littered around the room, but not really many guests. A door on one side of the room led to Maximino's office. A snooty blue French frog walked around with a platter and wineglass, obviously the waiter. Zim saw Mick Virago sitting at one of the tables. He quickly made his way over there. Mick was sipping from a martini glass and smoking a cigarette while doing tax work. Zim got his attention. "Mick Virago, what are you doing in the High Roller's Lounge? I would think Maximino's private lawyer would get his own office."
"I do, but they don't serve drinks there."
"You've got a little lipstick on you, lover boy."
Mick pulled out a cigarette case. "I got rid of that, and I can get rid of you too, Zim." He opened the cigarette case, reaching for a new cigarette, but accidentally opened a secret compartment in the case, causing a little key to fall to the ground. Mick quickly grabbed the key and put it back in the case, closing the compartment and getting himself a new cigarette. Pretending the incident didn't happen, Mick lit the cigarette and faced Zim, placing the case on the table. "What do you want?"
"Virago, I need a lawyer."
"What for?"
Zim was about to tell him about Terry, then remembered that Mick hated Seabees. He quickly thought of a different problem. "Actually, I want to adopt Gir."
Mick raised an eyebrow. "Zim, that android is designed to be your servant, not your child."
"Yeah, but he needs guidance, not just orders. And in a way, he already feels like a son to me. I just want to make it nice and legal. That's where you come in."
"Will you be needing a regular lawyer or an excellent lawyer?"
Knowing Mick's ego, Zim knew he would have to compliment him. "An excellent lawyer."
"Any excellent lawyer or the best excellent lawyer?"
"The very best is good enough for me."
"And who would you say that is, Zim? Who is the best lawyer you know, in all the Land of the Nicktoons?"
Zim sighed. "You are, Mick."
"That's right, and that's why Maximino retains me on an exclusive basis, meaning I'm not going to help you." Snickering, Mick went back to work.
Zim frowned. "Look Virago, I really need a lawyer."
"Well my dance card's full, so what are you going to do?"
"I could ask Max if I can borrow you."
"Won't work, Max likes sharing his lawyer as much as he likes sharing his girlfriend."
"Okay, I could ask you again!"
"That doesn't surprise me."
"I could threaten you with this gun!"
"Zim, if anyone in this town had guns but us, we'd know."
Zim unfolded his spider legs, aiming at Mick's head. "Help me out or I'll blast you." Mick calmly pulled out a Sproutella gun and aimed it at Zim's head. Getting the drift, he retracted the legs. "Okay, in that case I could go tell Max about you and Olivia,"
Mick shook his head. "Zim, a claim like that could send a person like Max into a blind rage, especially if the person telling him had no proof. Now, I'd like to think you're a sensible man, er, child who wouldn't do anything stupid like that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go have a word with Max."
Mick got up and headed over to Max's office, leaving his cigarette case behind. Realizing his luck, Zim picked up the case. Mick had hidden a key inside, there was a good chance that this key was the one Laura had left for him. He opened the case and found only cigarettes. He shook the case, hearing a rattling from the secret compartment the key was in. He tried to open it, but couldn't find any latch. After a few minutes of trying to claw it open and bashing it on the table, Zim tried to pry it open with his spider legs. When that failed as well, he lost it. Throwing the case to the ground, he yelled, "All right you stupid piece of junk, eat lasery death!" he blasted the case repeatedly with his lasers, laughing maniacally and getting the notice of the other guests. After he had reduced the cigarette case to a pile of cinders, Zim sifted around through the cigarette ash and found the key. He was suddenly aware of everyone looking at him. "What? What? Go back to your business! Stop looking at me!" They quickly did so. Zim examined the key and noticed the word "Lighthouse" was carved onto it. Now he knew exactly where to go. He left via the elevator and headed down the stairs tot he stadium. There was a landing at the bottom. He could either go left, right, or straight. Straight would take him down to the stadium, which he did not want. The left was a set of stairs going to the docks. As he was about to go down the stairs, he noticed something tot he right, down the long hallway leading to the pigpen. It was a big case with a stuffed giant pig in it, one of the former racers. The racing pigs Max bred were the size of horses, which was why there was such a big track. Zim noticed a plaque on the case and read it. The pig in the case was Sanspoof, one of the fastest pigs. It had died in the second week of the racing season when the Olivia 1 blimp crashed into the stadium during its maiden flight, killing many pigs and quite a few tourists. Many bereaved fans later testified that in that fateful race, Sanspoof was in the lead. Zim couldn't help smirking. He hadn't been there when the accident occurred, but he knew what had happened. The Olivia 1 was a blimp Max had built to impress Olivia and try to make her marry him. The fact that it had crashed and killed her favorite pig kind of seemed to be an omen for their true relationship, how Olivia was wrong for Max. Zim was going to leave, but then he noticed an open door on the wall nearby. He went through and wished he hadn't. He found himself in one of the pigpens, a huge shallow pit full of mud. There was a big trough for food, and several cans of slop lying on the ground. A big electric can opener was sitting on top of a can. Slightly dizzy from the stench of the pen, Zim grabbed the can opener and ran out, trying to keep from throwing up. Once he recovered, he closed the door and wondered why he was holding a big can opener. Putting the can opener in his utility pod, Zim went down the stairs and exited the track. He carefully crossed the folding bridge across the dock, finding himself in front of the place where Velasco kept the Doom Wagon hidden. If Zim wanted, he could walk down the length of the pier and go to Toto's tattoo parlor to see about this Naranja guy, but he wasn't ready just yet. He walked down the bridge to the intersection, then went to the shipyard. From there, he went down the path to the lighthouse. He approached the small tower, the great light from its beacon casting creepy shadows whenever it passed over him. The door was locked. Taking out the key he had taken, Zim opened the door and went inside. He climbed up the spiral staircase and got to the circular walkway around the beacon. He walked along the path, looking for any sign of Laura. He found her, but not in the way he had wanted. He spotted Laura a little further up. He ran over.
"Laura!"
She moaned. "Don't come closer Zim, you might not want to see me like this."
He got close and stopped, shocked. "Laura, did Mick do this to you?"
Laura was lying on the ground, flowers slowly blooming from her flesh. Mick had sprouted her, and it was taking its time completing. She looked like she was in unbelievable pain, but was strong enough not to scream. "Yeah Zim, he wanted that picture real bad. Bad enough to do this…"
"I'll get him for this Laura! Just tell me where the photo is and I'll fix him!"
Not seeming to hear him, she started talking again. "I guess it's my fault, always falling for the wrong guys. I even had a thing for you once, but you seemed so hung up over that Rana chick that I didn't think I had a chance." She looked at Zim. "Tell me Zim, would I have had a chance?" Zim hesitated, not sure what to tell her. He couldn't lie to a dying woman, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Never mind. Mick'll never get the photo now, but I left you some clues that will help you find it. Promise me you'll get the photo and use it to do something good, Zim. And promise me you'll tell Olivia that if she keeps using men like she does, one day she'll end up like me."
"I promise, Laura."
"Thank you, Zim. The first clue is…in my pocket. Please…take it…" She slumped over as the flowers sprouted from her head, showing it was over. Her body stopped moving, going limp.
"Oh, Laura…" said Zim sadly. He walked over and searched her pockets, trying not to touch the flowers or her bare skin. He found a plastic tile with a picture of a tongue, the number 22, and the word "Lengua" on it. "A plastic tile? What does that mean?" His mind suddenly rewound, recalling Lope saying something hours ago about using old plastic tiles from the automat for her coat filing system. This must be one of them! Leaving Laura's corpse, he raced back to the Café Irkana.
He handed the tile to Lope. "Here you go."
She immediately recognized the tile. "Oh! It's a tile from my filing system! YOU DO CARE!" Clapping her hands eagerly, she dove under the counter and started sorting through the coats. A moment later, she found something. "Ah ha! Oh darn!"
"What?"
"JUST SHOOT ME!"
"Lope, what is it?"
Lope popped back up, holding Laura's jacket. "This can't be yours."
"That's it, thanks." He said, taking the jacket.
"Zim, what are you doing with a little girlie jacket?" she asked suspiciously.
"Uh…hey, did there happen to be a camera with this?"
"No…"
"Hmm, she must have hidden that elsewhere."
"Wha?"
"I-I'll tell you tomorrow." He searched the jacket's pockets, looking for a photograph. Instead, he found a piece of paper that said "No. 36, Rusty Anchor." What did that mean? Zim handed the jacket to Lope. "Here you go."
Lope, who had already forgotten the events of the last few minutes, took the jacket. "Okay, let me just get you a tile…"
"No need, you already gave me one."
"I did?" asked Lope, confused. "What number was on it?"
"I don't remember, I lost it."
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Are you trying to drive me crazy?"
"Yes." Zim was about to leave, when he got a feeling he should talk to Gir. Perhaps he knew about this Rusty Anchor. He went down to the restaurant and walked over to Gir. He showed him the slip of paper. "Hey Gir, do you know what this means?"
Gir thought a moment. (Yes folks, he's actually thinking!) "You mean aside from the statue, and the song, and the bar, and the pig, and the taco of the same name?"
"Uh, yes."
"I hear it's a popular tattoo. Why?"
"No reason. Thanks Gir." He was surprised once again by Gir's usefulness. Gir had actually given him a clue to the photo! Next stop, the tattoo parlor. Just as he was about to leave, he got another hint from his intuition. He handed Gir the VIP pass to the High Roller's Lounge. "Check out this VIP pass to the High Roller's Lounge! Can you believe how full of themselves they are over there?" He walked over to the fully stocked bar of his restaurant. "I mean, it can't really get more VIP than this, can it?"
Zim had not noticed that when he had handed Gir the pass, the little android's eye cams had widened and he was trembling as he held the card. "I- I wouldn't know. I t-try to stay away from that p-place."
"Really? Why? I thought you loved pigs."
"Because of my…my…my problem." With that, Gir immediately jumped off the piano stool, ran up the stairs, and out the front door.
Zim turned around. "Gir? Gir, where are you?" The robot was gone. Zim shrugged and walked over to the piano. I can't believe I've been keeping him from putting headers and taco decals on this thing for so long. He thought. Even though he knew he should get going, he wanted to try out a little tune on the piano. He started playing the song Gir had written. "Oooooh, Oooooooooh, Ooooo-oooooo-ooooooooohhhhhhhhh, Raaaaaaaaaaanaaaaaaaaaaaaa…"
Upstairs, Lope applauded. "Whoo! Encore! Encore!"
Zim was surprised. Why had he done that? He wasn't in love with Rana, right? Right? A little shaken, he left the Café. After a long walk, he arrived at Toto's Scrimshaw Parlor, an old rusty building at the end of a strip of land just down the stairs from the dock the Big had been in. He climbed up the ladder and opened the hatchway that lead inside, climbing down the ladder into the interior. The inside of Toto's home was a bit hot and sparsely decorated. The main room was really more of a small corridor with a counter that had some stuff on it. There were three binders of tattoo designs, labeled "Nautical," Nice," and "Anchormania," not to mention a strong bottle of liquor. An old phone hung on the wall. There was an empty cupboard on the wall as well. At the back of the room was a cot, a door to the bathroom, and a refrigerator. Sitting in a barber-style chair was a burly-looking sailor human, probably the Naranja guy Zim was looking for. Trying to draw an anchor tattoo on the guy's arm was Toto, a black dog. (Get it? Toto? Black dog?) "Hey, Toto. Do you mind if I ask you-"
"Not now, Zim. I'm working on Naranja here. We can talk when I'm done with him."
"When will that be?"
"Well, I'd be done a lot faster if Naranja here didn't insist on taking a drink of alcohol every twenty seconds."
"Hey, it's not my fault it's so hot in here." Whined Naranja.
"I need to keep the air conditioner off so I can draw the tattoo on. One little generator powers this whole place, okay? You want me to just turn off the machine and you can leave?"
"No, no, I can take it. I just want my tattoo." Insisted Naranja, taking another drink from the bottle.
Zim knew he had to knock Naranja out somehow. It was a good thing he had taken that shot of hookah water from the Blue Pod. All he needed to do was sneak it into the bottle while they weren't looking. Zim walked over to the bottle. The robotic syringe extended from his pod. Right after Naranja had taken another drink, Zim placed the syringe over the bottleneck and was about to inject the hookah water when he was noticed. "Hey, what are you doing over there?" asked Toto.
"Uh, nothing." Said Zim.
"Well, get away from my bottle! I need it!" complained Naranja.
"All right, all right." Said Zim. He decided he needed a distraction. He got one. He pointed to a random spot. "Oh my goodness gracious what's that thing over there?"
"Where?" they both asked, looking at the spot where he was pointing. While they were distracted, Zim quickly injected the hookah water into the bottle. The two guys turned back. "Hey, I didn't see anything." Said Toto.
"And I told you to stay away from my bottle!" said Naranja, grabbing the bottle and taking another drink.
As Toto started drawing again, the chemical Zim had placed in the bottle took effect, knocking Naranja out cold. "Hey! What are you doing? Dead! Ach! Can't handle a little alcohol, huh?" Picking up Naranja, Toto carried him over to his cot and dropped him there. "If you think you're not paying me for this, you're crazy." He walked over to the telephone and dialed up a number. "Hello? Velasco? Yeah, Toto here. I got one of your boys down here. MIA he is. Don't worry, he'll be at the docks before dawn for sure. How's the wife?"
While Toto started chatting with Velasco, Zim knew he had only partially completed a requirement. He needed to make sure Velasco thought Naranja wouldn't show up, and he already had an inkling of how to do that. Walking over to Naranja, who was now snoring quite loudly, Zim searched the sailor's pockets, finding his dog tags. They read "Seaman Andrew Naranja, Ensign Third class, the Macarena." Zim put them in his pod and walked over to Toto. "Excuse me, Toto…"
"Hold on," Toto said to Velasco, "I'll get back to you." He hung up the phone. "Yeah, what is it Zim?"
Zim held up the piece of paper he had found in Laura's jacket. "Do you know anything about this?"
Toto walked over and took the slip of paper. "You mean aside from the bar, and the song, and the statue, and the pig, and the taco, and the anchor of the same name? Sure! It is one of my best tattoos! Hold on." Toto picked up the Anchormania binder and flipped through it. "Let's see…thirty…ah, thirty- three, thirty-four, thirty-five…here we are, number thirty-six! Eh, what's this?" Toto pulled out a photograph from his binder. "What's this thing doing here?"
Zim's squeegly-spootch raced. "That's mine. My friend Laura left it for me."
Toto handed the photo down to Zim. "Oh, Laura is a friend of yours? She is like a daughter to me. Tell Laura Papa Toto said hi, would you?"
"Y-yeah, I will." As Toto got back on the phone, Zim examined the photo, pleased that he finally had what he needed to get Terry out of prison. His face fell. This wasn't a picture of Mick and Olivia racing. It was a picture of a race at the pig track. How did that help him? Wait! Maybe it was a clue! He examined the picture carefully and realized it wasn't just any photo, it was a photo-finish photo! Laura must have sneaked into the picture archives at the track and switched the photo of Mick and Olivia kissing for this one. It was a good thing that Zim had taken the betting stub printer from Charlie, because now Zim could just print the stub for the race in the photo and get the picture. All he had to do now was figure out what race, week of the season, and day the picture had been taken. He could see the digital boards that told you racing info in the stadium were in the picture, showing the number six, showing which race it was in. Several people in the crowd were wearing little piggy hats, so that meant it must have been a Tuesday. He could also see a blimp in the background, with a digital display saying "Marry me, Olivia" hanging from it. From the plaque on the dead pig's case, Zim knew the blimp's first flight and crash was on the second week of the racing season. This was all the information he needed. Putting the photograph in the pod, he took out the printer and punched in race six, week two, Tuesday into the device, and printed the stub. Putting both into his utility pod, Zim left the parlor and headed back to the track.
Zim walked up to the photo finish booth. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
A fat parrot came into view. "Betting stub, please." She said. Zim handed her the fake betting stub. She took it in her wing and examined it. "Hey, this doesn't look like our regular betting stub."
"Well, that's because it's from last season." He said quickly.
"Okay. Just a second…" The parrot turned from view and started looking through the file cabinets. "Here we are!"
The parrot turned around and handed Zim a photo. Zim turned his back tot he parrot and looked at the photo. It was the right one. "Ah-ha!" he said, taking the photograph from its little plastic envelope and replacing it with the photo finish picture.
"Are you a winner?" asked the parrot.
"Big winner. Thanks." Said Zim, handing her back the envelope. He headed down the corridor to the elevator.
The parrot looked after him. "I think that guy was up to something, don't you Darlene?" asked the parrot. There was no response from the other booth. "Darlene?" The parrot got out of her booth and walked into the betting booth, looking out the window. "Who, that guy? Personally, I think he was nuts!" said the other half of the parrot's split personality.
Zim walked to the elevator and found the fly wasn't there to operate it. He shrugged and went down to the lounge. He was a little surprised to see that all of the other guests had left, possibly because of Gir. Gir was now sitting at a table atop the kitchen, drinking lots of wine and yelling things of encouragement to the pigs very loudly. Forgetting about Mick for the moment, Zim went up the stairs to see Gir. Gir looked quite inebriated. From all the betting stubs in front of Gir, it was obvious he was gambling heavily. "Gir, I had no idea you like gambling so much!" said Zim, shocked.
Gir hiccuped. "The doctors made me promise I wouldn't do it anymore," he admitted in a wobbling voice. "BUT THEY CAN'T GET INTO THE HIGH ROLLER'S LOUNGE NOW CAN THEY!" He hiccuped again, affixing his gaze back to the race display.
"Will you be coming home soon?" asked Zim.
"Shhh! I'm vishualizin'!" he said.
"I said, will you be coming home soon?" asked Zim, a little louder.
"What's that you said, little piggy?" asked Gir, looking confused as he watched the screen. "Don't talk piggy, just run baby!"
"Where are you getting the money for this?"
"I's got credit." Gir said, sober for a second.
"Credit? Where did you get credit?"
"I's half owner of…of…that place…we live at. I putted my half up for…colaatterrall. Long as we's in business…I's in business!" Turning his head, he yelled down at the blue frog. "Ruben! More wine!"
"My name, Monsieur, is Raoul!"
"Whatever, just gets me some more wine! Hic!"
Disgusted, Zim decided to deal with this later. He walked down the stairs and headed over to Mick's table, where he was still doing tax work. Zim took out the photo of him and Olivia kissing and showed it to Mick. "Hey buddy, look what I've got! A picture of Sleazy Shyster and Hip Chick neck and neck!"
The color in Mick's fur paled. "All right, what do you want in exchange for the photo?"
Zim smiled, knowing he had Mick right where he wanted him. "Let me tell you the story of a young toon, unjustly imprisoned merely for speaking his mind…"
A little later, outside the police station…Terry stretched his wings, relieved to be free from the prison cell. "Ah, thanks Zim. I knew you'd pull through. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a strike to organize." Saluting Zim, Terry flew off, back to the docks.
Mick looked down at Zim. "All right, I got your friend out, now give me the photo."
Zim pulled the photo from his pod and was about to hand it over when he pulled it back from the feline's claws. "Ah-ah-ah, Mick. I have a couple more things to tack on to our agreement."
Mick's fur rose. "That wasn't part of the deal!"
"Do you want me to show this to Maximino?"
"All right, what is it?"
"First of all, I want you to stop your little tawdry affair with Olivia. Tell her if she keeps manipulating rich, powerful men, she'll end up sprouted. Second, I want you to keep Terry from getting busted by Bogen again. It's time for some changes down in the docks, and the guy making them will need protection. Deal?"
"Deal." Growled Mick.
"Here you go." He handed Mick the photo.
He grabbed it, folded it up, and put it away. "I guess this concludes our business." He said, starting to turn away.
"Not quite." Said Zim.
Elevating on his spider legs, Zim gave Mick a mighty punch on the chin, knocking him to the ground. Mick groaned and got up. "Was that for the photo girl?"
"No, that was just for being you. I don't have time to get you for Laura, but I know someday somebody will."
Mick turned and started to walk away. But before he was gone, he called back, "You weren't able to save her, Zim. But after all, I hear that saving women really isn't your forte." Laughing, he was gone.
Grimacing, Zim shook that off. Now that the Seabees were on strike, Gir would be able to pick up the tools later. Now he had to finish what he had started with Naranja. He headed down the stairs from the police station to the morgue. Opening the big iron doors, Zim entered the morgue, a round stone room with row upon row of holes in the wall where corpses were kept. Membrillo, the tall Irken coroner, was in the middle of the room, running over two sprouted cartoons with a metal detector. "Late night at the morgue, Membrillo?" asked Zim.
The Irken looked up, his purple eyes a bit sad. "Yeah Zim. Another late night. But I've got to get these John Does identified before the next two come in. I wouldn't want to get behind."
Zim walked over to Membrillo. "Any clues on who these guys are?"
"No. That's the problem with some sproutings, sometimes the corpse is so covered with flowers it's impossible to even find out what kind of toon it is. I would cut off the flowers, but that could be considered sacrilegious. Besides, they keep growing back." He kept looking over one guy with his metal detector. "At least this metal detector you gave me for my birthday helps out a lot more than the old fork I used to have." Nodding, Zim pulled the dog tags from his pod and threw them into the corpse Membrillo was studying while he wasn't looking. The metal detector immediately picked it up. "Hey, what's this?" he said, pulling out the dog tags. "'Seaman Andrew Naranja, Ensign Third class, the Macarena'?"
"Hey, looks like you found something!"
Membrillo sighed. "Yes, I did. That's the ironic part about this job. I'm happy when I find out who the dead guy is so I can put him or her away, but then I have to make a phone call and break somebody's heart. And it's only getting worse."
"How do you mean?" asked Zim, curious.
"The criminal forces that have taken over Nick City have finally notice dour quaint port town and are reaching out their claws to ensnare us. There have been more sproutings everyday, and guess who has to clean up the mess?" A communicator popped out of Membrillo's utility pod, unfolding in front of his face. It flickered to life, showing Velasco. "Hello, Velasco?'
"Yeah, what is it Membrillo?"
"I've got one of your boys down here in the morgue, one Andrew Naranja."
"What? How?"
"He was sprouted."
"But…but…ah, this town's going to hell! Yeah, I'll pick him up later, give him a good seaman's burial. Thanks Membrillo."
Membrillo hung up, the communicator retracting. The tall coroner turned back to his visitor. "Well, another corpse identified, another sad call made. All in the day's work of a coroner, eh?" He rolled the corpse that was supposed to be Naranja into one of the open holes, closing it. "Now to find out who the other guy is. Care to help?"
"No thanks. I'm leaving town. I've got to get finished packing."
"You're leaving Speedo Bottom? Good. It's an excellent idea to get out of here while you can, before this town goes down for good. Anyway, nobody needs a vacation more than you do! Well, except maybe me, but it's good you're getting out of here, take a break, forget all about that Rana woman."
"Yeah…thanks Membrillo." Zim left. Outside, he shuddered. "I am never going near a morgue ever again."
Zim stepped out of the elevator, in the High Roller's Lounge once again. He knew that the entrance to the wine cellar would have to be in the kitchen, so he went into the small structure. It was very well stocked, with lots of canned food that appeared to be meat of some kind, probably the remains of old pigs. There was a pantry on the side of the wall and a stepladder that went to the top of a giant keg of wine. As Zim entered, he saw a big green monster roll an empty keg of wine from where the other keg was, going down a hall past the pantry to the freight elevator to the wine cellar. Zim wasn't sure what to do. From Gir's demeanor, it was obvious he was drinking a lot of wine. Zim went over to the freight elevator and pushed the button, waiting for it to come back up. After a few minutes, it did come back up, and the monster stepped out of the elevator, sitting in a bench on the wall before noticing Zim. "Huh? Hey, you're not supposed to be here."
The monster looked a little stupid, so Zim thought he could trick him. "Hey, what's that over there?"
"I'm not as dumb as I look, you know. Now what do you want?"
"Do you mind if I pass through?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to use the elevator."
"Doubt it."
"Why?"
"Because nobody goes down there that ain't me or a keg of wine."
"Well, could you take me down?"
"Oh yeah, I could take you down. But I'm not allowed to hit customers anymore."
"Why aren't you allowed to hit customers anymore?" asked Zim, a little confused.
"Exactly! It makes no sense!"
"Look, mister…"
"Aitor."
"Aitor, I want to go down in the elevator."
"Good idea, nobody would see us fighting in there."
Zim growled. "Just open the doors, okay?"
"But then they'd really see us fighting!"
Zim decided to try a different tactic. "How about a bribe?"
Aitor laughed. "What could you possibly give to a man who has everything?"
"Good point. Hey, do you have to keep switching wine casks?"
"Yeah, that's my job."
"Has Gir been drinking a lot?"
"Yes, I've already had to replace six kegs."
"Do you want me to get him out of here?"
"No, it's okay, he's just got to pace himself. But I haven't been getting much sleep, what with all the kegs I've had to switch." He yawned. "I'm going to sleep. And don't try to sneak into the elevator or anything, cause I'll hear you." He instantly went to sleep and started snoring.
Zim had to think up a way to get to the cellar. If he could drain the keg and hide in it, Aitor would take him down to the cellar. But how to drain it? As he walked back into the main part of the kitchen, the waiter walked in. "Oh that monster upstairs is running me ragged…Pardonnez moi, Monsieur, but you are not supposed to be in here."
"I'll leave in a minute, LeRois."
"My name is Raoul." Grumbled the waiter. He walked into the pantry. Zim got a sudden brainstorm. The waiter was the one supplying Gir with wine. If something happened to the waiter, Gir might come down and empty the keg himself, allowing Zim to open it up and hide inside. He ran over to the pantry and closed the doors. He then pulled off his utility pod and stuck it sideways over the door, the magnetic clamps on the pod's underside holding it in place, effectively locking the door. Zim left the kitchen to watch the ensuing madness.
Raoul tried to get out of the pantry, only to find it locked. "Allo? Allo? Is anyone out there? The door, eh he, seems to be locked. I am actually VERY claustrophobic, so could anyone please, please open this door? Si vouz plais? SI VOUZ PLAIS!" HE frantically started beating on the doors. "Open these doors immediate-ment!"
Gir took another sip from his large glass of wine, emptying it. He waited for the waiter to come back with more drink. He didn't show up. Curious, Gir went down to the kitchen, looking for the waiter. Ignoring the screams and begging from the pantry, Gir noticed the big keg of wine and opened the tap, drinking the contents inside. Amazingly, he actually emptied the entire keg, then left. "Hmm. Hic! Fruity, but voluminous."
Zim walked back into the kitchen. He rapped his knuckles on the keg, finding it empty. He went over to his pod and opened it up, pulling out the can opener while leaving the lock in place. He climbed up the stepladder and used the big can opener on the top of the keg, causing it to drop down and leave Zim a place to crawl into. He jumped inside the keg and waited.
Soon, Gir got thirsty again. "Where's that big blue blue big thing? I'm thirsty!" He walked back into the kitchen and opened the tap, finding it empty. "Hey, this thing's empty! I don't want it to be empty, I want it to be full! Be full! Be full! Hey, where's Rupert?" Gir then finally heard the screams from the pantry. "Oh! A talking pantry!" He ran over to the pantry. "Hi pantry!" The screams kept going. "Hmm. What's this? Master's pod? What's it doing here?" Gir pulled off the utility pod and threw it in the air, causing it to fall into the open keg and hit Zim on the head. The pantry doors fell open and Raoul staggered out, panting. "Ah ha! Taking a little nap ay vouz, eh?" asked Gir.
"Merci, sir…I was…I was…"
"I'm a customer and I demand wine because the customer is always right and I'm the customer so that means I'm right. And I say le keg is le empty, so toot sweet buster. And get me more wine!" Gir left.
Raoul stood up, shaking. "That was the most horrible experience in my life! Aitor, more wine! Oh, for ignoring my pleas for help I will make sure he is fired! And then I believe I shall quit! No man should ever be trapped in such a small, dark place…"
Aitor carried the keg down to the wine cellar, threw it into the discard pile, and got a new one, taking it back upstairs. After he was sure Aitor was gone, a bruised Zim crawled out of his keg. Just as he was about to start looking around, he remembered his pod. He whistled. The pod flew out of the keg and flipped over so the magnetic rings on its underside were aligned with the rings on Zim's back. The two connected, the pod sending its cybernetic cables into Zim's body and connecting with his mind. Zim saw lots and lots of wine kegs. The safe had to be around here somewhere. He saw a door on the far wall, so went to check it out. It led down a long dark hallway, ending in a room with several shelves on the walls. The only thing in the room was a small suitcase, evidently Charlie's. Zim noticed that it had the initials EB on the handle. Curious as to what was inside, Zim opened the suitcase and was met by a bright golden glow. His eyes bulged. What he found was not money. It was something far more valuable. They were Mega Rail tickets, a hundred of them. "Good lord, these could get a hundred cartoons on the Mega Rail!" Zim looked closer at the tickets. "Something's odd here…I get the feeling this suitcase belongs to somebody a lot more important than Chowchilla Charlie."
Zim exited the elevator from the High Roller's Lounge, carrying the suitcase. He was surprised to find Charlie was waiting for him in the hallway, holding a Sproutella gun. "Hand over the suitcase, Zim."
Our favorite Irken was surprised. "Charles, I thought we had a deal."
"Oh we do, we do. I just thought I'd need a little muscle to back me up."
"What's wrong Chuck? Can't afford to hire goons to do this stuff for you?"
"Hey, I'm all the goon I need! Now give me the suitcase!"
Zim shrugged and put it on the ground. Charlie started reaching for it. "What about my card?"
"Oh right, my end of the deal." Reaching into his suit with one for his flippers, Charlie pulled out a blue card and handed it to Zim. He picked up the suitcase and started backing away. "There you go, Zim. You're a union man now. Meetings are first Wednesday of every month, and don't forget to pay your dues." He ran away.
"Don't forget to pay my dues." Zim said, chuckling.
Later, at the dock…"And so poor Naranja was sprouted on his way back here." Said Velasco sadly.
"No!" said Zim, feigning shock.
"Yes. Looks like you've got the job after all, Zim."
"No, Velasco, I can't take it like this."
The pufferfish scowled. "You'll take the job because I don't have time to find anyone else for the job! Now about the tools, where are they?"
"Down at the shipyard. They're too heavy for me to carry, I'll just send Gir to get them later."
"Now, as for the Union card…" Zim handed it to Velasco, who examined it with his good eye. "Ah, one of Charlie's rush jobs, eh? Well as I said before, the captain's farsighted. Now all you need is Gir. Where is he?"
"He's throwing a goodbye party."
"Well go get him, the Macarena can't leave without him." Zim left, his heart heavy because he knew there was only one way he was going to be able to get Gir out of that lounge.
A little later… Zim sat in his desk at the Café Irkana, wanting to enjoy it one last time. Since Gir was in business as long as the Café Irkana was in business, that meant the only way to get Gir out of there was to have the joint raided and shut down. But that would mean losing the Café Irkana forever. Zim knew he had to do this, he had to go after Rana. He sighed and activated the casino display. Squidjoe's voice came up on a speaker, calling out numbers and winners. Zim waited until the display showed the table Bogen always gambled at. He closed his eyes and turned off the magnet.
Down in the casino, the roulette wheel finally stopped spinning, the little metal ball stopping on 14. "Fourteen! Fourteen is the winner!" He blinked, surprised that the boss had decided to let Bogen lose. "Oh my…fourteen is the winner!"
The crime hound didn't look too happy. "I believe you mean two is the winner."
Squidjoe shook his head. "No sir, the winner is fourteen."
Bogen leaned close to Squidjoe. "Am I correct in saying that the winner is two, NOT fourteen?" asked Bogen, a threat hinted in his voice.
Squidjoe shrugged apologetically. "I am sorry sir, but fourteen is indeed the winner. Better luck next time."
Bogen lost it. "That does it! Zim's gotten too big for his britches! I don't like raiding businesses and shutting them down, but he leaves me no choice! The Café Irkana is officially closed!" he said angrily. The gamblers complained but were all forced out. Bogen and his men ransacked the entire place but could not find Zim, who had already made his getaway in the emergency fire escape tunnel he had installed. Bogen then made a little call to his "superior", Maximino…
Maximino listened on the phone, surprised by what Bogen was telling him. "What! Closed down? How long is it going to be closed for?" There was a pause. "I see. Yeah, throw the little metal bum out on his ass! And bring Zim to me so we can have a little talk about his debt."
Gir picked himself up from where he had been rudely tossed down the stairs to the dock at the bottom and ran to the bottom of the stairs. "Come on fellas, you've gotta let me back in! I'm a VIP!"
"What does that stand for? Very Inebriated Pianist?" asked Zim from behind Gir.
Gir ran over to him and grabbed his midsection. "Master, I don't want to be a pianist anymore. I'm a mechanic!"
"I know. That's why I got you this new job. Come on, let's go pick up your tools."
After picking up Gir's new tools and saying some last good-byes to the Doom wagon, who would be forced to stay behind, Gir and Zim started boarding the Macarena. "So I can do whatever I want with the engine? Make it faster?" Gir asked Velasco.
The pufferfish nodded. "Yeah, but you'll be having a big enough job keeping her afloat."
"Thanks for getting us the job." Said Zim.
Velasco shrugged. "Eh, it's the least I could do. After what happened to Naranja, I can see why you'd want to skip town. Though I am a little surprised that you're eager to go on a boat. I thought you Irkens were terrified of water."
"We are. But I can generate a waterproof force field to keep the water from burning my skin and create an air bubble to provide me with unlimited oxygen."
"Ah. Well, you two have fun, okay?"
As the sun started to rise, the ship set sail, leaving the quaint port town behind. As Zim started mopping the decks, his thoughts once again turned to Rana. After a bit of pondering he decided that he would wait and see how she felt about him if-that is, when he next saw her. She probably had a good reason for blasting him off the gangplank, right? And when they met…well, he would see, wouldn't he?
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The ship that pulled into a dock in Zapato was not the same rustbucket that had left Speedo Bottom months ago. It was almost completely free of rust, repainted with flames and tacos, with lots of cool-looking chrome pipes sticking out everywhere. Even its name had been changed, to the Laura. As the ship stopped engines and lowered the port and starboard anchors, the crew assembled on the main deck in front of the bride to be addressed by the captain. As they waited, the captain, wearing a blue hat and jacket, came out of the bridge and looked down upon them. This was a little funny, since the only way the captain could look down on any of the crew was if he was in a higher place than they were. The captain looked down and said, "Ah, we've made it to Zapato at last. Nice work sailors! Let's get this vessel into port nice and easy. Secure those ropes, like a rock this time!"
As the crewmen rushed about to do this, an ensign came out of the bridge and looked down, saluting the captain. "Captain Zim, sir, we've got some customs officials asking to inspect the ship."
Captain Zim (Yes, Zim!) looked up. "Sure, let them on. We've got nothing to hide."
"Yes sir!" The ensign ran back into the ship.
Zim watched as the crew finished their jobs and ran to their cabins to prepare for their shore leave. Zim would be joining them soon enough, but he doubted he would be returning to the ship when it was time to leave. It was surprising how he had become captain. There had been no card game this time, just luck. When the ship had a run-in with a dangerous sea monster, Zim had single-handedly saved the ship. The captain had suffered fatal injuries, and named Zim as his successor. Zim had renamed the ship and allowed Gir to make it more presentable, which they had succeeded at. As he was about to go back into the bridge to go to his cabin, a homing pigeon wearing a beret and carrying a letter landed on a railing. Zim quickly rushed over, knowing it was a message from Patrick. He took the letter from the bird, which flew off. Zim started reading. It said, "Zim, I hope this message reaches you quickly. Our agent in Zapato says that Rana never arrived in port and disappeared somewhere near the Pearl. I don't know whether you believe that or not, but I provided you with a map to the Pearl on the back of this letter in case you decide to go looking for her. One more thing: Bog has become aware of your intended destination and has prepared a welcoming committee for you in Zapato. The assassins will be disguised as customs agents, who will come aboard the ship under that guise and try to kill you. So whatever you do, do not dock in Zapato. Signed, Patrick Star. P.S. Viva la Revolucion!" Zim looked up from the letter. "Oh no…"
Uh oh! Looks like the pigeon didn't get there in time. Will Zim be able to survive the assassins? What is the Pearl Patrick was talking about? Find out next time.
Zim finished his walk over the bridge, entering the giant pig track. Walking down the stairs to the gambling part, he found himself in a small room with a missing back wall. This missing wall opened onto the pig track, where Zim could see the huge stadium filling up, and the giant pigs were priming up for their run. On either of the other two walls was a booth. One of the booths was where you could place your bets and get piggy hats, but the latter was only available on Tuesdays. The other booth was the photo finish record. You could show a fake betting stub to the guy in the booth and he would get the photograph for the race and week printed on the stub so you could see if the pig you had betted on for that race was a winner or not. In the middle of the room was a staircase that led down to the stadium itself and split off into two corridors, one of which led to the dock at the bottom of the track, the other leading to the giant pigpen. Zim was interested in neither of these, though. He was interested in a corridor on the wall near the gambling booth, which lead to an elevator. Zim walked down the hall to the elevator, admiring the reliefs of piggies on the walls. The elevator doors opened automatically, revealing the operator guy. "Oh, I am sorry sir but only people with VIP passes may go down to the High Roller's Lounge." Said the green fly.
"You mean like this one?" asked Zim, showing the bug his pass.
"Oh, my apologies sir. Please step in."
Zim did so. The bug pushed the button and Zim went down to the High Roller's Lounge. Zim looked around in awe. It trumped his little place by a huge amount. In fact, the entire Café Irkana could fit in this lounge, except for the cactus. Next to the elevator was a staircase that went to the upper part of the lounge, where guests could sip on wine while watching the races. There was a small structure in the middle of the room, the kitchen. A platform bridged the stairs and the top of the kitchen, forming the upper level. At the end of this kitchen was a giant bronzed pig statue. There were lots of couches and tables littered around the room, but not really many guests. A door on one side of the room led to Maximino's office. A snooty blue French frog walked around with a platter and wineglass, obviously the waiter. Zim saw Mick Virago sitting at one of the tables. He quickly made his way over there. Mick was sipping from a martini glass and smoking a cigarette while doing tax work. Zim got his attention. "Mick Virago, what are you doing in the High Roller's Lounge? I would think Maximino's private lawyer would get his own office."
"I do, but they don't serve drinks there."
"You've got a little lipstick on you, lover boy."
Mick pulled out a cigarette case. "I got rid of that, and I can get rid of you too, Zim." He opened the cigarette case, reaching for a new cigarette, but accidentally opened a secret compartment in the case, causing a little key to fall to the ground. Mick quickly grabbed the key and put it back in the case, closing the compartment and getting himself a new cigarette. Pretending the incident didn't happen, Mick lit the cigarette and faced Zim, placing the case on the table. "What do you want?"
"Virago, I need a lawyer."
"What for?"
Zim was about to tell him about Terry, then remembered that Mick hated Seabees. He quickly thought of a different problem. "Actually, I want to adopt Gir."
Mick raised an eyebrow. "Zim, that android is designed to be your servant, not your child."
"Yeah, but he needs guidance, not just orders. And in a way, he already feels like a son to me. I just want to make it nice and legal. That's where you come in."
"Will you be needing a regular lawyer or an excellent lawyer?"
Knowing Mick's ego, Zim knew he would have to compliment him. "An excellent lawyer."
"Any excellent lawyer or the best excellent lawyer?"
"The very best is good enough for me."
"And who would you say that is, Zim? Who is the best lawyer you know, in all the Land of the Nicktoons?"
Zim sighed. "You are, Mick."
"That's right, and that's why Maximino retains me on an exclusive basis, meaning I'm not going to help you." Snickering, Mick went back to work.
Zim frowned. "Look Virago, I really need a lawyer."
"Well my dance card's full, so what are you going to do?"
"I could ask Max if I can borrow you."
"Won't work, Max likes sharing his lawyer as much as he likes sharing his girlfriend."
"Okay, I could ask you again!"
"That doesn't surprise me."
"I could threaten you with this gun!"
"Zim, if anyone in this town had guns but us, we'd know."
Zim unfolded his spider legs, aiming at Mick's head. "Help me out or I'll blast you." Mick calmly pulled out a Sproutella gun and aimed it at Zim's head. Getting the drift, he retracted the legs. "Okay, in that case I could go tell Max about you and Olivia,"
Mick shook his head. "Zim, a claim like that could send a person like Max into a blind rage, especially if the person telling him had no proof. Now, I'd like to think you're a sensible man, er, child who wouldn't do anything stupid like that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go have a word with Max."
Mick got up and headed over to Max's office, leaving his cigarette case behind. Realizing his luck, Zim picked up the case. Mick had hidden a key inside, there was a good chance that this key was the one Laura had left for him. He opened the case and found only cigarettes. He shook the case, hearing a rattling from the secret compartment the key was in. He tried to open it, but couldn't find any latch. After a few minutes of trying to claw it open and bashing it on the table, Zim tried to pry it open with his spider legs. When that failed as well, he lost it. Throwing the case to the ground, he yelled, "All right you stupid piece of junk, eat lasery death!" he blasted the case repeatedly with his lasers, laughing maniacally and getting the notice of the other guests. After he had reduced the cigarette case to a pile of cinders, Zim sifted around through the cigarette ash and found the key. He was suddenly aware of everyone looking at him. "What? What? Go back to your business! Stop looking at me!" They quickly did so. Zim examined the key and noticed the word "Lighthouse" was carved onto it. Now he knew exactly where to go. He left via the elevator and headed down the stairs tot he stadium. There was a landing at the bottom. He could either go left, right, or straight. Straight would take him down to the stadium, which he did not want. The left was a set of stairs going to the docks. As he was about to go down the stairs, he noticed something tot he right, down the long hallway leading to the pigpen. It was a big case with a stuffed giant pig in it, one of the former racers. The racing pigs Max bred were the size of horses, which was why there was such a big track. Zim noticed a plaque on the case and read it. The pig in the case was Sanspoof, one of the fastest pigs. It had died in the second week of the racing season when the Olivia 1 blimp crashed into the stadium during its maiden flight, killing many pigs and quite a few tourists. Many bereaved fans later testified that in that fateful race, Sanspoof was in the lead. Zim couldn't help smirking. He hadn't been there when the accident occurred, but he knew what had happened. The Olivia 1 was a blimp Max had built to impress Olivia and try to make her marry him. The fact that it had crashed and killed her favorite pig kind of seemed to be an omen for their true relationship, how Olivia was wrong for Max. Zim was going to leave, but then he noticed an open door on the wall nearby. He went through and wished he hadn't. He found himself in one of the pigpens, a huge shallow pit full of mud. There was a big trough for food, and several cans of slop lying on the ground. A big electric can opener was sitting on top of a can. Slightly dizzy from the stench of the pen, Zim grabbed the can opener and ran out, trying to keep from throwing up. Once he recovered, he closed the door and wondered why he was holding a big can opener. Putting the can opener in his utility pod, Zim went down the stairs and exited the track. He carefully crossed the folding bridge across the dock, finding himself in front of the place where Velasco kept the Doom Wagon hidden. If Zim wanted, he could walk down the length of the pier and go to Toto's tattoo parlor to see about this Naranja guy, but he wasn't ready just yet. He walked down the bridge to the intersection, then went to the shipyard. From there, he went down the path to the lighthouse. He approached the small tower, the great light from its beacon casting creepy shadows whenever it passed over him. The door was locked. Taking out the key he had taken, Zim opened the door and went inside. He climbed up the spiral staircase and got to the circular walkway around the beacon. He walked along the path, looking for any sign of Laura. He found her, but not in the way he had wanted. He spotted Laura a little further up. He ran over.
"Laura!"
She moaned. "Don't come closer Zim, you might not want to see me like this."
He got close and stopped, shocked. "Laura, did Mick do this to you?"
Laura was lying on the ground, flowers slowly blooming from her flesh. Mick had sprouted her, and it was taking its time completing. She looked like she was in unbelievable pain, but was strong enough not to scream. "Yeah Zim, he wanted that picture real bad. Bad enough to do this…"
"I'll get him for this Laura! Just tell me where the photo is and I'll fix him!"
Not seeming to hear him, she started talking again. "I guess it's my fault, always falling for the wrong guys. I even had a thing for you once, but you seemed so hung up over that Rana chick that I didn't think I had a chance." She looked at Zim. "Tell me Zim, would I have had a chance?" Zim hesitated, not sure what to tell her. He couldn't lie to a dying woman, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Never mind. Mick'll never get the photo now, but I left you some clues that will help you find it. Promise me you'll get the photo and use it to do something good, Zim. And promise me you'll tell Olivia that if she keeps using men like she does, one day she'll end up like me."
"I promise, Laura."
"Thank you, Zim. The first clue is…in my pocket. Please…take it…" She slumped over as the flowers sprouted from her head, showing it was over. Her body stopped moving, going limp.
"Oh, Laura…" said Zim sadly. He walked over and searched her pockets, trying not to touch the flowers or her bare skin. He found a plastic tile with a picture of a tongue, the number 22, and the word "Lengua" on it. "A plastic tile? What does that mean?" His mind suddenly rewound, recalling Lope saying something hours ago about using old plastic tiles from the automat for her coat filing system. This must be one of them! Leaving Laura's corpse, he raced back to the Café Irkana.
He handed the tile to Lope. "Here you go."
She immediately recognized the tile. "Oh! It's a tile from my filing system! YOU DO CARE!" Clapping her hands eagerly, she dove under the counter and started sorting through the coats. A moment later, she found something. "Ah ha! Oh darn!"
"What?"
"JUST SHOOT ME!"
"Lope, what is it?"
Lope popped back up, holding Laura's jacket. "This can't be yours."
"That's it, thanks." He said, taking the jacket.
"Zim, what are you doing with a little girlie jacket?" she asked suspiciously.
"Uh…hey, did there happen to be a camera with this?"
"No…"
"Hmm, she must have hidden that elsewhere."
"Wha?"
"I-I'll tell you tomorrow." He searched the jacket's pockets, looking for a photograph. Instead, he found a piece of paper that said "No. 36, Rusty Anchor." What did that mean? Zim handed the jacket to Lope. "Here you go."
Lope, who had already forgotten the events of the last few minutes, took the jacket. "Okay, let me just get you a tile…"
"No need, you already gave me one."
"I did?" asked Lope, confused. "What number was on it?"
"I don't remember, I lost it."
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Are you trying to drive me crazy?"
"Yes." Zim was about to leave, when he got a feeling he should talk to Gir. Perhaps he knew about this Rusty Anchor. He went down to the restaurant and walked over to Gir. He showed him the slip of paper. "Hey Gir, do you know what this means?"
Gir thought a moment. (Yes folks, he's actually thinking!) "You mean aside from the statue, and the song, and the bar, and the pig, and the taco of the same name?"
"Uh, yes."
"I hear it's a popular tattoo. Why?"
"No reason. Thanks Gir." He was surprised once again by Gir's usefulness. Gir had actually given him a clue to the photo! Next stop, the tattoo parlor. Just as he was about to leave, he got another hint from his intuition. He handed Gir the VIP pass to the High Roller's Lounge. "Check out this VIP pass to the High Roller's Lounge! Can you believe how full of themselves they are over there?" He walked over to the fully stocked bar of his restaurant. "I mean, it can't really get more VIP than this, can it?"
Zim had not noticed that when he had handed Gir the pass, the little android's eye cams had widened and he was trembling as he held the card. "I- I wouldn't know. I t-try to stay away from that p-place."
"Really? Why? I thought you loved pigs."
"Because of my…my…my problem." With that, Gir immediately jumped off the piano stool, ran up the stairs, and out the front door.
Zim turned around. "Gir? Gir, where are you?" The robot was gone. Zim shrugged and walked over to the piano. I can't believe I've been keeping him from putting headers and taco decals on this thing for so long. He thought. Even though he knew he should get going, he wanted to try out a little tune on the piano. He started playing the song Gir had written. "Oooooh, Oooooooooh, Ooooo-oooooo-ooooooooohhhhhhhhh, Raaaaaaaaaaanaaaaaaaaaaaaa…"
Upstairs, Lope applauded. "Whoo! Encore! Encore!"
Zim was surprised. Why had he done that? He wasn't in love with Rana, right? Right? A little shaken, he left the Café. After a long walk, he arrived at Toto's Scrimshaw Parlor, an old rusty building at the end of a strip of land just down the stairs from the dock the Big had been in. He climbed up the ladder and opened the hatchway that lead inside, climbing down the ladder into the interior. The inside of Toto's home was a bit hot and sparsely decorated. The main room was really more of a small corridor with a counter that had some stuff on it. There were three binders of tattoo designs, labeled "Nautical," Nice," and "Anchormania," not to mention a strong bottle of liquor. An old phone hung on the wall. There was an empty cupboard on the wall as well. At the back of the room was a cot, a door to the bathroom, and a refrigerator. Sitting in a barber-style chair was a burly-looking sailor human, probably the Naranja guy Zim was looking for. Trying to draw an anchor tattoo on the guy's arm was Toto, a black dog. (Get it? Toto? Black dog?) "Hey, Toto. Do you mind if I ask you-"
"Not now, Zim. I'm working on Naranja here. We can talk when I'm done with him."
"When will that be?"
"Well, I'd be done a lot faster if Naranja here didn't insist on taking a drink of alcohol every twenty seconds."
"Hey, it's not my fault it's so hot in here." Whined Naranja.
"I need to keep the air conditioner off so I can draw the tattoo on. One little generator powers this whole place, okay? You want me to just turn off the machine and you can leave?"
"No, no, I can take it. I just want my tattoo." Insisted Naranja, taking another drink from the bottle.
Zim knew he had to knock Naranja out somehow. It was a good thing he had taken that shot of hookah water from the Blue Pod. All he needed to do was sneak it into the bottle while they weren't looking. Zim walked over to the bottle. The robotic syringe extended from his pod. Right after Naranja had taken another drink, Zim placed the syringe over the bottleneck and was about to inject the hookah water when he was noticed. "Hey, what are you doing over there?" asked Toto.
"Uh, nothing." Said Zim.
"Well, get away from my bottle! I need it!" complained Naranja.
"All right, all right." Said Zim. He decided he needed a distraction. He got one. He pointed to a random spot. "Oh my goodness gracious what's that thing over there?"
"Where?" they both asked, looking at the spot where he was pointing. While they were distracted, Zim quickly injected the hookah water into the bottle. The two guys turned back. "Hey, I didn't see anything." Said Toto.
"And I told you to stay away from my bottle!" said Naranja, grabbing the bottle and taking another drink.
As Toto started drawing again, the chemical Zim had placed in the bottle took effect, knocking Naranja out cold. "Hey! What are you doing? Dead! Ach! Can't handle a little alcohol, huh?" Picking up Naranja, Toto carried him over to his cot and dropped him there. "If you think you're not paying me for this, you're crazy." He walked over to the telephone and dialed up a number. "Hello? Velasco? Yeah, Toto here. I got one of your boys down here. MIA he is. Don't worry, he'll be at the docks before dawn for sure. How's the wife?"
While Toto started chatting with Velasco, Zim knew he had only partially completed a requirement. He needed to make sure Velasco thought Naranja wouldn't show up, and he already had an inkling of how to do that. Walking over to Naranja, who was now snoring quite loudly, Zim searched the sailor's pockets, finding his dog tags. They read "Seaman Andrew Naranja, Ensign Third class, the Macarena." Zim put them in his pod and walked over to Toto. "Excuse me, Toto…"
"Hold on," Toto said to Velasco, "I'll get back to you." He hung up the phone. "Yeah, what is it Zim?"
Zim held up the piece of paper he had found in Laura's jacket. "Do you know anything about this?"
Toto walked over and took the slip of paper. "You mean aside from the bar, and the song, and the statue, and the pig, and the taco, and the anchor of the same name? Sure! It is one of my best tattoos! Hold on." Toto picked up the Anchormania binder and flipped through it. "Let's see…thirty…ah, thirty- three, thirty-four, thirty-five…here we are, number thirty-six! Eh, what's this?" Toto pulled out a photograph from his binder. "What's this thing doing here?"
Zim's squeegly-spootch raced. "That's mine. My friend Laura left it for me."
Toto handed the photo down to Zim. "Oh, Laura is a friend of yours? She is like a daughter to me. Tell Laura Papa Toto said hi, would you?"
"Y-yeah, I will." As Toto got back on the phone, Zim examined the photo, pleased that he finally had what he needed to get Terry out of prison. His face fell. This wasn't a picture of Mick and Olivia racing. It was a picture of a race at the pig track. How did that help him? Wait! Maybe it was a clue! He examined the picture carefully and realized it wasn't just any photo, it was a photo-finish photo! Laura must have sneaked into the picture archives at the track and switched the photo of Mick and Olivia kissing for this one. It was a good thing that Zim had taken the betting stub printer from Charlie, because now Zim could just print the stub for the race in the photo and get the picture. All he had to do now was figure out what race, week of the season, and day the picture had been taken. He could see the digital boards that told you racing info in the stadium were in the picture, showing the number six, showing which race it was in. Several people in the crowd were wearing little piggy hats, so that meant it must have been a Tuesday. He could also see a blimp in the background, with a digital display saying "Marry me, Olivia" hanging from it. From the plaque on the dead pig's case, Zim knew the blimp's first flight and crash was on the second week of the racing season. This was all the information he needed. Putting the photograph in the pod, he took out the printer and punched in race six, week two, Tuesday into the device, and printed the stub. Putting both into his utility pod, Zim left the parlor and headed back to the track.
Zim walked up to the photo finish booth. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
A fat parrot came into view. "Betting stub, please." She said. Zim handed her the fake betting stub. She took it in her wing and examined it. "Hey, this doesn't look like our regular betting stub."
"Well, that's because it's from last season." He said quickly.
"Okay. Just a second…" The parrot turned from view and started looking through the file cabinets. "Here we are!"
The parrot turned around and handed Zim a photo. Zim turned his back tot he parrot and looked at the photo. It was the right one. "Ah-ha!" he said, taking the photograph from its little plastic envelope and replacing it with the photo finish picture.
"Are you a winner?" asked the parrot.
"Big winner. Thanks." Said Zim, handing her back the envelope. He headed down the corridor to the elevator.
The parrot looked after him. "I think that guy was up to something, don't you Darlene?" asked the parrot. There was no response from the other booth. "Darlene?" The parrot got out of her booth and walked into the betting booth, looking out the window. "Who, that guy? Personally, I think he was nuts!" said the other half of the parrot's split personality.
Zim walked to the elevator and found the fly wasn't there to operate it. He shrugged and went down to the lounge. He was a little surprised to see that all of the other guests had left, possibly because of Gir. Gir was now sitting at a table atop the kitchen, drinking lots of wine and yelling things of encouragement to the pigs very loudly. Forgetting about Mick for the moment, Zim went up the stairs to see Gir. Gir looked quite inebriated. From all the betting stubs in front of Gir, it was obvious he was gambling heavily. "Gir, I had no idea you like gambling so much!" said Zim, shocked.
Gir hiccuped. "The doctors made me promise I wouldn't do it anymore," he admitted in a wobbling voice. "BUT THEY CAN'T GET INTO THE HIGH ROLLER'S LOUNGE NOW CAN THEY!" He hiccuped again, affixing his gaze back to the race display.
"Will you be coming home soon?" asked Zim.
"Shhh! I'm vishualizin'!" he said.
"I said, will you be coming home soon?" asked Zim, a little louder.
"What's that you said, little piggy?" asked Gir, looking confused as he watched the screen. "Don't talk piggy, just run baby!"
"Where are you getting the money for this?"
"I's got credit." Gir said, sober for a second.
"Credit? Where did you get credit?"
"I's half owner of…of…that place…we live at. I putted my half up for…colaatterrall. Long as we's in business…I's in business!" Turning his head, he yelled down at the blue frog. "Ruben! More wine!"
"My name, Monsieur, is Raoul!"
"Whatever, just gets me some more wine! Hic!"
Disgusted, Zim decided to deal with this later. He walked down the stairs and headed over to Mick's table, where he was still doing tax work. Zim took out the photo of him and Olivia kissing and showed it to Mick. "Hey buddy, look what I've got! A picture of Sleazy Shyster and Hip Chick neck and neck!"
The color in Mick's fur paled. "All right, what do you want in exchange for the photo?"
Zim smiled, knowing he had Mick right where he wanted him. "Let me tell you the story of a young toon, unjustly imprisoned merely for speaking his mind…"
A little later, outside the police station…Terry stretched his wings, relieved to be free from the prison cell. "Ah, thanks Zim. I knew you'd pull through. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a strike to organize." Saluting Zim, Terry flew off, back to the docks.
Mick looked down at Zim. "All right, I got your friend out, now give me the photo."
Zim pulled the photo from his pod and was about to hand it over when he pulled it back from the feline's claws. "Ah-ah-ah, Mick. I have a couple more things to tack on to our agreement."
Mick's fur rose. "That wasn't part of the deal!"
"Do you want me to show this to Maximino?"
"All right, what is it?"
"First of all, I want you to stop your little tawdry affair with Olivia. Tell her if she keeps manipulating rich, powerful men, she'll end up sprouted. Second, I want you to keep Terry from getting busted by Bogen again. It's time for some changes down in the docks, and the guy making them will need protection. Deal?"
"Deal." Growled Mick.
"Here you go." He handed Mick the photo.
He grabbed it, folded it up, and put it away. "I guess this concludes our business." He said, starting to turn away.
"Not quite." Said Zim.
Elevating on his spider legs, Zim gave Mick a mighty punch on the chin, knocking him to the ground. Mick groaned and got up. "Was that for the photo girl?"
"No, that was just for being you. I don't have time to get you for Laura, but I know someday somebody will."
Mick turned and started to walk away. But before he was gone, he called back, "You weren't able to save her, Zim. But after all, I hear that saving women really isn't your forte." Laughing, he was gone.
Grimacing, Zim shook that off. Now that the Seabees were on strike, Gir would be able to pick up the tools later. Now he had to finish what he had started with Naranja. He headed down the stairs from the police station to the morgue. Opening the big iron doors, Zim entered the morgue, a round stone room with row upon row of holes in the wall where corpses were kept. Membrillo, the tall Irken coroner, was in the middle of the room, running over two sprouted cartoons with a metal detector. "Late night at the morgue, Membrillo?" asked Zim.
The Irken looked up, his purple eyes a bit sad. "Yeah Zim. Another late night. But I've got to get these John Does identified before the next two come in. I wouldn't want to get behind."
Zim walked over to Membrillo. "Any clues on who these guys are?"
"No. That's the problem with some sproutings, sometimes the corpse is so covered with flowers it's impossible to even find out what kind of toon it is. I would cut off the flowers, but that could be considered sacrilegious. Besides, they keep growing back." He kept looking over one guy with his metal detector. "At least this metal detector you gave me for my birthday helps out a lot more than the old fork I used to have." Nodding, Zim pulled the dog tags from his pod and threw them into the corpse Membrillo was studying while he wasn't looking. The metal detector immediately picked it up. "Hey, what's this?" he said, pulling out the dog tags. "'Seaman Andrew Naranja, Ensign Third class, the Macarena'?"
"Hey, looks like you found something!"
Membrillo sighed. "Yes, I did. That's the ironic part about this job. I'm happy when I find out who the dead guy is so I can put him or her away, but then I have to make a phone call and break somebody's heart. And it's only getting worse."
"How do you mean?" asked Zim, curious.
"The criminal forces that have taken over Nick City have finally notice dour quaint port town and are reaching out their claws to ensnare us. There have been more sproutings everyday, and guess who has to clean up the mess?" A communicator popped out of Membrillo's utility pod, unfolding in front of his face. It flickered to life, showing Velasco. "Hello, Velasco?'
"Yeah, what is it Membrillo?"
"I've got one of your boys down here in the morgue, one Andrew Naranja."
"What? How?"
"He was sprouted."
"But…but…ah, this town's going to hell! Yeah, I'll pick him up later, give him a good seaman's burial. Thanks Membrillo."
Membrillo hung up, the communicator retracting. The tall coroner turned back to his visitor. "Well, another corpse identified, another sad call made. All in the day's work of a coroner, eh?" He rolled the corpse that was supposed to be Naranja into one of the open holes, closing it. "Now to find out who the other guy is. Care to help?"
"No thanks. I'm leaving town. I've got to get finished packing."
"You're leaving Speedo Bottom? Good. It's an excellent idea to get out of here while you can, before this town goes down for good. Anyway, nobody needs a vacation more than you do! Well, except maybe me, but it's good you're getting out of here, take a break, forget all about that Rana woman."
"Yeah…thanks Membrillo." Zim left. Outside, he shuddered. "I am never going near a morgue ever again."
Zim stepped out of the elevator, in the High Roller's Lounge once again. He knew that the entrance to the wine cellar would have to be in the kitchen, so he went into the small structure. It was very well stocked, with lots of canned food that appeared to be meat of some kind, probably the remains of old pigs. There was a pantry on the side of the wall and a stepladder that went to the top of a giant keg of wine. As Zim entered, he saw a big green monster roll an empty keg of wine from where the other keg was, going down a hall past the pantry to the freight elevator to the wine cellar. Zim wasn't sure what to do. From Gir's demeanor, it was obvious he was drinking a lot of wine. Zim went over to the freight elevator and pushed the button, waiting for it to come back up. After a few minutes, it did come back up, and the monster stepped out of the elevator, sitting in a bench on the wall before noticing Zim. "Huh? Hey, you're not supposed to be here."
The monster looked a little stupid, so Zim thought he could trick him. "Hey, what's that over there?"
"I'm not as dumb as I look, you know. Now what do you want?"
"Do you mind if I pass through?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to use the elevator."
"Doubt it."
"Why?"
"Because nobody goes down there that ain't me or a keg of wine."
"Well, could you take me down?"
"Oh yeah, I could take you down. But I'm not allowed to hit customers anymore."
"Why aren't you allowed to hit customers anymore?" asked Zim, a little confused.
"Exactly! It makes no sense!"
"Look, mister…"
"Aitor."
"Aitor, I want to go down in the elevator."
"Good idea, nobody would see us fighting in there."
Zim growled. "Just open the doors, okay?"
"But then they'd really see us fighting!"
Zim decided to try a different tactic. "How about a bribe?"
Aitor laughed. "What could you possibly give to a man who has everything?"
"Good point. Hey, do you have to keep switching wine casks?"
"Yeah, that's my job."
"Has Gir been drinking a lot?"
"Yes, I've already had to replace six kegs."
"Do you want me to get him out of here?"
"No, it's okay, he's just got to pace himself. But I haven't been getting much sleep, what with all the kegs I've had to switch." He yawned. "I'm going to sleep. And don't try to sneak into the elevator or anything, cause I'll hear you." He instantly went to sleep and started snoring.
Zim had to think up a way to get to the cellar. If he could drain the keg and hide in it, Aitor would take him down to the cellar. But how to drain it? As he walked back into the main part of the kitchen, the waiter walked in. "Oh that monster upstairs is running me ragged…Pardonnez moi, Monsieur, but you are not supposed to be in here."
"I'll leave in a minute, LeRois."
"My name is Raoul." Grumbled the waiter. He walked into the pantry. Zim got a sudden brainstorm. The waiter was the one supplying Gir with wine. If something happened to the waiter, Gir might come down and empty the keg himself, allowing Zim to open it up and hide inside. He ran over to the pantry and closed the doors. He then pulled off his utility pod and stuck it sideways over the door, the magnetic clamps on the pod's underside holding it in place, effectively locking the door. Zim left the kitchen to watch the ensuing madness.
Raoul tried to get out of the pantry, only to find it locked. "Allo? Allo? Is anyone out there? The door, eh he, seems to be locked. I am actually VERY claustrophobic, so could anyone please, please open this door? Si vouz plais? SI VOUZ PLAIS!" HE frantically started beating on the doors. "Open these doors immediate-ment!"
Gir took another sip from his large glass of wine, emptying it. He waited for the waiter to come back with more drink. He didn't show up. Curious, Gir went down to the kitchen, looking for the waiter. Ignoring the screams and begging from the pantry, Gir noticed the big keg of wine and opened the tap, drinking the contents inside. Amazingly, he actually emptied the entire keg, then left. "Hmm. Hic! Fruity, but voluminous."
Zim walked back into the kitchen. He rapped his knuckles on the keg, finding it empty. He went over to his pod and opened it up, pulling out the can opener while leaving the lock in place. He climbed up the stepladder and used the big can opener on the top of the keg, causing it to drop down and leave Zim a place to crawl into. He jumped inside the keg and waited.
Soon, Gir got thirsty again. "Where's that big blue blue big thing? I'm thirsty!" He walked back into the kitchen and opened the tap, finding it empty. "Hey, this thing's empty! I don't want it to be empty, I want it to be full! Be full! Be full! Hey, where's Rupert?" Gir then finally heard the screams from the pantry. "Oh! A talking pantry!" He ran over to the pantry. "Hi pantry!" The screams kept going. "Hmm. What's this? Master's pod? What's it doing here?" Gir pulled off the utility pod and threw it in the air, causing it to fall into the open keg and hit Zim on the head. The pantry doors fell open and Raoul staggered out, panting. "Ah ha! Taking a little nap ay vouz, eh?" asked Gir.
"Merci, sir…I was…I was…"
"I'm a customer and I demand wine because the customer is always right and I'm the customer so that means I'm right. And I say le keg is le empty, so toot sweet buster. And get me more wine!" Gir left.
Raoul stood up, shaking. "That was the most horrible experience in my life! Aitor, more wine! Oh, for ignoring my pleas for help I will make sure he is fired! And then I believe I shall quit! No man should ever be trapped in such a small, dark place…"
Aitor carried the keg down to the wine cellar, threw it into the discard pile, and got a new one, taking it back upstairs. After he was sure Aitor was gone, a bruised Zim crawled out of his keg. Just as he was about to start looking around, he remembered his pod. He whistled. The pod flew out of the keg and flipped over so the magnetic rings on its underside were aligned with the rings on Zim's back. The two connected, the pod sending its cybernetic cables into Zim's body and connecting with his mind. Zim saw lots and lots of wine kegs. The safe had to be around here somewhere. He saw a door on the far wall, so went to check it out. It led down a long dark hallway, ending in a room with several shelves on the walls. The only thing in the room was a small suitcase, evidently Charlie's. Zim noticed that it had the initials EB on the handle. Curious as to what was inside, Zim opened the suitcase and was met by a bright golden glow. His eyes bulged. What he found was not money. It was something far more valuable. They were Mega Rail tickets, a hundred of them. "Good lord, these could get a hundred cartoons on the Mega Rail!" Zim looked closer at the tickets. "Something's odd here…I get the feeling this suitcase belongs to somebody a lot more important than Chowchilla Charlie."
Zim exited the elevator from the High Roller's Lounge, carrying the suitcase. He was surprised to find Charlie was waiting for him in the hallway, holding a Sproutella gun. "Hand over the suitcase, Zim."
Our favorite Irken was surprised. "Charles, I thought we had a deal."
"Oh we do, we do. I just thought I'd need a little muscle to back me up."
"What's wrong Chuck? Can't afford to hire goons to do this stuff for you?"
"Hey, I'm all the goon I need! Now give me the suitcase!"
Zim shrugged and put it on the ground. Charlie started reaching for it. "What about my card?"
"Oh right, my end of the deal." Reaching into his suit with one for his flippers, Charlie pulled out a blue card and handed it to Zim. He picked up the suitcase and started backing away. "There you go, Zim. You're a union man now. Meetings are first Wednesday of every month, and don't forget to pay your dues." He ran away.
"Don't forget to pay my dues." Zim said, chuckling.
Later, at the dock…"And so poor Naranja was sprouted on his way back here." Said Velasco sadly.
"No!" said Zim, feigning shock.
"Yes. Looks like you've got the job after all, Zim."
"No, Velasco, I can't take it like this."
The pufferfish scowled. "You'll take the job because I don't have time to find anyone else for the job! Now about the tools, where are they?"
"Down at the shipyard. They're too heavy for me to carry, I'll just send Gir to get them later."
"Now, as for the Union card…" Zim handed it to Velasco, who examined it with his good eye. "Ah, one of Charlie's rush jobs, eh? Well as I said before, the captain's farsighted. Now all you need is Gir. Where is he?"
"He's throwing a goodbye party."
"Well go get him, the Macarena can't leave without him." Zim left, his heart heavy because he knew there was only one way he was going to be able to get Gir out of that lounge.
A little later… Zim sat in his desk at the Café Irkana, wanting to enjoy it one last time. Since Gir was in business as long as the Café Irkana was in business, that meant the only way to get Gir out of there was to have the joint raided and shut down. But that would mean losing the Café Irkana forever. Zim knew he had to do this, he had to go after Rana. He sighed and activated the casino display. Squidjoe's voice came up on a speaker, calling out numbers and winners. Zim waited until the display showed the table Bogen always gambled at. He closed his eyes and turned off the magnet.
Down in the casino, the roulette wheel finally stopped spinning, the little metal ball stopping on 14. "Fourteen! Fourteen is the winner!" He blinked, surprised that the boss had decided to let Bogen lose. "Oh my…fourteen is the winner!"
The crime hound didn't look too happy. "I believe you mean two is the winner."
Squidjoe shook his head. "No sir, the winner is fourteen."
Bogen leaned close to Squidjoe. "Am I correct in saying that the winner is two, NOT fourteen?" asked Bogen, a threat hinted in his voice.
Squidjoe shrugged apologetically. "I am sorry sir, but fourteen is indeed the winner. Better luck next time."
Bogen lost it. "That does it! Zim's gotten too big for his britches! I don't like raiding businesses and shutting them down, but he leaves me no choice! The Café Irkana is officially closed!" he said angrily. The gamblers complained but were all forced out. Bogen and his men ransacked the entire place but could not find Zim, who had already made his getaway in the emergency fire escape tunnel he had installed. Bogen then made a little call to his "superior", Maximino…
Maximino listened on the phone, surprised by what Bogen was telling him. "What! Closed down? How long is it going to be closed for?" There was a pause. "I see. Yeah, throw the little metal bum out on his ass! And bring Zim to me so we can have a little talk about his debt."
Gir picked himself up from where he had been rudely tossed down the stairs to the dock at the bottom and ran to the bottom of the stairs. "Come on fellas, you've gotta let me back in! I'm a VIP!"
"What does that stand for? Very Inebriated Pianist?" asked Zim from behind Gir.
Gir ran over to him and grabbed his midsection. "Master, I don't want to be a pianist anymore. I'm a mechanic!"
"I know. That's why I got you this new job. Come on, let's go pick up your tools."
After picking up Gir's new tools and saying some last good-byes to the Doom wagon, who would be forced to stay behind, Gir and Zim started boarding the Macarena. "So I can do whatever I want with the engine? Make it faster?" Gir asked Velasco.
The pufferfish nodded. "Yeah, but you'll be having a big enough job keeping her afloat."
"Thanks for getting us the job." Said Zim.
Velasco shrugged. "Eh, it's the least I could do. After what happened to Naranja, I can see why you'd want to skip town. Though I am a little surprised that you're eager to go on a boat. I thought you Irkens were terrified of water."
"We are. But I can generate a waterproof force field to keep the water from burning my skin and create an air bubble to provide me with unlimited oxygen."
"Ah. Well, you two have fun, okay?"
As the sun started to rise, the ship set sail, leaving the quaint port town behind. As Zim started mopping the decks, his thoughts once again turned to Rana. After a bit of pondering he decided that he would wait and see how she felt about him if-that is, when he next saw her. She probably had a good reason for blasting him off the gangplank, right? And when they met…well, he would see, wouldn't he?
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The ship that pulled into a dock in Zapato was not the same rustbucket that had left Speedo Bottom months ago. It was almost completely free of rust, repainted with flames and tacos, with lots of cool-looking chrome pipes sticking out everywhere. Even its name had been changed, to the Laura. As the ship stopped engines and lowered the port and starboard anchors, the crew assembled on the main deck in front of the bride to be addressed by the captain. As they waited, the captain, wearing a blue hat and jacket, came out of the bridge and looked down upon them. This was a little funny, since the only way the captain could look down on any of the crew was if he was in a higher place than they were. The captain looked down and said, "Ah, we've made it to Zapato at last. Nice work sailors! Let's get this vessel into port nice and easy. Secure those ropes, like a rock this time!"
As the crewmen rushed about to do this, an ensign came out of the bridge and looked down, saluting the captain. "Captain Zim, sir, we've got some customs officials asking to inspect the ship."
Captain Zim (Yes, Zim!) looked up. "Sure, let them on. We've got nothing to hide."
"Yes sir!" The ensign ran back into the ship.
Zim watched as the crew finished their jobs and ran to their cabins to prepare for their shore leave. Zim would be joining them soon enough, but he doubted he would be returning to the ship when it was time to leave. It was surprising how he had become captain. There had been no card game this time, just luck. When the ship had a run-in with a dangerous sea monster, Zim had single-handedly saved the ship. The captain had suffered fatal injuries, and named Zim as his successor. Zim had renamed the ship and allowed Gir to make it more presentable, which they had succeeded at. As he was about to go back into the bridge to go to his cabin, a homing pigeon wearing a beret and carrying a letter landed on a railing. Zim quickly rushed over, knowing it was a message from Patrick. He took the letter from the bird, which flew off. Zim started reading. It said, "Zim, I hope this message reaches you quickly. Our agent in Zapato says that Rana never arrived in port and disappeared somewhere near the Pearl. I don't know whether you believe that or not, but I provided you with a map to the Pearl on the back of this letter in case you decide to go looking for her. One more thing: Bog has become aware of your intended destination and has prepared a welcoming committee for you in Zapato. The assassins will be disguised as customs agents, who will come aboard the ship under that guise and try to kill you. So whatever you do, do not dock in Zapato. Signed, Patrick Star. P.S. Viva la Revolucion!" Zim looked up from the letter. "Oh no…"
Uh oh! Looks like the pigeon didn't get there in time. Will Zim be able to survive the assassins? What is the Pearl Patrick was talking about? Find out next time.
