A/N: yo-yo-yo everyone! Sempai Tnberry and hoheehum are about to make fanfiction HISTORY!
What happens when Zim finds himself faced with his most ingenious plan yet? Ahhhh… the smell of chaos… Lovely, in-nit?
Disclaimer: I don't own Zim. *Points to cardboard cut-out of hoheehum's dad* he's a lawyer, here to protect me. *picks up cardboard cut-out and wields it like a sword*
With solemn eyes, Dib watched as his father strutted to the center of the auditorium stage, and stood at the podium, announcing the release of his newest invention into "Households around the world!" This time, Dib was actually on the stage, where he should have been when his father was going to release PEG. Next to him, Gaz was busily tapping away at her Game Slave, one eye twitching every time her father's voice grew too loud over the intercom, or the crowd cheered wildly enough to disrupt her game. Knowing better than to suggest she turn it off during the ceremony, Dib just sat, hoping his father would take some time to bring him and his sister into the process, other than plopping them in chairs and giving them a brief introduction in the beginning as "My children!"
Bored, Dib scanned the crowds below and wondered at all the important people there, made to stand, while he and his sister sat on stage. That pleased him just the slightest- that his father cared more about his children than anyone else.
But then his brain caught up to his emotions, and he realized it was just another advertising gig. A ploy to do nothing more than please the public.
"Membrane is so devoted to man-kind, so invested in real science that, why, if he could do all that and raise kids at the same time, he must be even more incredible than we thought!" Dib could already hear the news anchor saying. "Won't even forget his kids when unleashing the most important discovery of mankind! That's right folks! Professor Membrane! A real family man! "
Family, thought Dib. Pfft! I'll say. In a month, all the rave will be the Professor, Dib and Gaz Membrane action figures. Though that would be kinda cool... What other kid in my class has their own action figure? Nuh! What am I saying!? I don't want a my face to be mass-produced, stuck on a plastic doll, and then released into the wrath of millions of five-year-olds across the globe!
He was about to shudder when he spotted a familiar green form hiding in the bowels of the roaring crowd, looking downright miserable as a rather fat, balding man stumbled and fell on top of him.
Oh! thought Dib excitedly. He watched as a cup of cheese that had been on the man's plate- as though in slow motion -rocked, shuddered, and then lifted clear off of the surface. It glided through the air, spinning and twirling like any overly-caffeinated cubicle-dweller does about the copy machine, spitting out drops of yellow-gooieness as it went, until finally latching onto the side of the Invader's head with a quiet plop sound. But even as it began smoking, and Zim began screaming bloody murder, the man tripped once more, and smooshed the cup of cheese further onto the tiny alien's face and into his wig of long, curly red hair.
When the clumsy obese man finally pulled himself away, he shoved a tall, thin man with red hair, a trench coat, and strange, reflecting, elliptical glasses who was holding a cup of fries, out of his way. The fries, for seemingly no reason other than to be amusingly ironic, flew out of the thin man's grasp, and stuck to the cheese in Zim's wig, and on his mutated-with-fury face, slowly dragging down into the goatee the alien had fastened to his chin and then dripping onto the black tie with red pin-stripes, (as if the goatee alone wasn't enough to give any devout Christian nightmares for months). From there it went on, with an air of inevitability as thick as the air in a place with thick air to slime its way not-so-discreetly onto the not-so-discreet business suit Zim was wearing; a shade of green so exotic as to put the Invader's skin color to shame.
Beaming with the smug sort of glee one obtains by either watching the History Channel for twelve hours on end and still not knowing what's going on in Social Studies, or by observing the cheesy demise of your worst nemesis, Dib suddenly felt himself in a much better mood. Unfortunately, it was shattered moments later, when he realized his father was mentioning himself and Gaz over the loud speaker.
"And so, to officially begin the process of waste-eradication, I and my children..." the Professor looked at the teleprompter hovering in front of him, and then glanced up at the crowd, apparently miffed by the fact that his children's names were not there for him to read off. Not wanting to lose face, however, the scientist forced himself to continue despite the slight debacle, "...Gabriella, and... Daniel, will be..."
Dib stared, struck dumb, as the names 'Gabriella and Daniel' ran through his head in something that would have resembled a large cue in a third world country, had it been anywhere but inside his head (which, while large enough to contain a battlefield, was already occupied by scrumptious brain-meats.) He glanced at Gaz, whose left eye was twitching at him. She waited (albeit impatiently) for him to stand, and follow her to where their father had summoned them. There they would begin the process of "Building a Cleaner, Fresher World" just as the electronic banners hanging all around the stadium flashed on and off, between advertisements for Poop Cola (POOP TASTES GOOD), and urinary-tract infection cream (Soothing relief!)
He forgot our names! Dib thought, panicky. Our own father forgot our names! Then, as the shock slowly subsided, anger settled in.
"Now, son," the Professor whispered as they approached a glass panel, underneath which lay a very, very large red button, "don't do anything insane, like you usually do. Daughter, make sure your insane little brother stays sane."
Dib jolted, as if struck.
Gaz said nothing, still busily tapping away at her GS2. A little hovering robot with a single long arm swooped down to snatch the portable system out of her hands, much to the little girl's unmitigated fury. Her brown eyes cracked open, and her fingers began twitching.
"You will pay for that..." she muttered darkly, her eyes slitting once more as she turned her gaze away from the offending AI system and back to her family members. Her already-deepened scowl became even more of a miserable chasm in her face when she saw that the "I'm gonna go do crazy stuff now" look was now passing across her brother's face. But before she could slip out a warning, Dib acted.
Professor Membrane placed his large hand on a black pad at the base of the glass box, which, despite the gloves, glowed slightly to read his finger prints. The glass melted back into itself, tipped in a bright blue glow, and left the big red button exposed to all of Dib's ill wishes.
"Children, place you hands on the button- do not press it yet, just rest you hand on it -and when I place my hand on top of yours, I will give the signal and we will all press it toge-"
"Press this!" Dib shouted with barely-contained rage, shoving his hand down hard as he could on the button. A gasp resonated from the crowd, and Membrane's eyes visibly widened behind his goggles, never mind the fact that they aren't actually visible at all.
"David!" he shouted, "That is not the way you behave in front of-"
"My name's DIB! Not Daniel or David, but Dib! And that's Gaz! Not Gabriella! I'm the older one, she's the younger one! GOD! If you only wanted kids for in front of the camera, you should have rented them, with 'Made in China' stamped on their ass!"
He spun on his heel and marched angrily off stage. Gaz, dark clouds with lightning streaking brightly out of them gathering behind her, held one hand to the heavens. Where there had once been a little AI perched on the rim of the stage over-hang, there was now a large ball of flame and black smoke, from which something small fell and landed dutifully in Gaz's hands. The little girl, now content that she had her GS2 back and that the robot had received fiery retribution, glided eerily off after her brother, leaving her father behind.
The Professor turned to the audience, and from the fanning at the corners of his goggles, one could tell that he was smiling broadly from behind his mask.
"Children!" he laughed, and the audience laughed with him.