Back at the mall, Murderer Zim and his crew had taken over the arcade. He was sitting on top of an out of order NFL game, watching two guys duke it out with scantily clad female characters on Soul Caliber II. If I were a human, I'd want to put more clothes on, not less, he thought in disgust.
"I don't know what you think you're trying to pull, but this my planet!" a voice quietly hissed. "Tak's cousin."
Murderer Zim pivoted on the machine, smiling down at Invader Zim. "So you finally decide to show your bad self?" he mocked. "Go away. We don't have any room for crazy people here." In all honestly he'd been disappointed by the great Invader Zim's costume. Even Tak had a better costume, and he remembered sharply how pathetic Spork had always said females were at doing anything for themselves.
A couple of popular girls snickered into their drinks at Justin's snide remarks. Zim ignored them, focusing all his attention and anger on the stranger looking down on him. "The almighty tallests appointed me to this planet personally! Get your own planet!"
"I don't want your planet," Murderer Zim whispered after making sure no one was listening close enough to make out his words. "I want your head on a stick for what you did to Spork."
After the twenty-three minutes it took Zim to piece together exactly who he was talking to in reference to the Spork comment, Zim jumped up and pointed a long, accusing finger at Justin. "YOU!" he cried. "You dimension hopping fiend!"
"Yes. Me. Now will you leave?"
"Fine. I will depart from this noisy bin of brain-rotting entertainment, but know that I won't let my guard down for even an instant!" With that, Zim turned around no his heel and proudly marched straight into the side of another game.
After bouncing off the game and taking a moment to regather his wounded dignity, Zim stalked out of the arcade with the laughter of the popular kids and his wretched alternative world self ringing in his antennae.
Around ten, after mall security had chased the kids back out to their parents waiting SUV's, Murderer Zim wound his way back towards Tak's base. The night was pleasant, a hot breeze blowing on his neck. Overhead, the clouds made funny noises. Murderer Zim looked up in bored curiosity. A bright blue light cut through the air, slicing noisily as it stretched from the heavens to the Earth. It was almost pretty.
He continued walking along, jumping over leaves and cracks in the sidewalk. The use of colors other than blue in decorating and dressing fascinated and amazed the short young Irken. Maybe it wasn't such a bad planet after all…
He quickly turned his opinion back around when the clouds overhead opened wide and let down a spout of acid from the sky. Murderer Zim screeched loudly, smoke rising off his limbs and he frantically dashed for the nearest dry area, a small spot under a tree covered in thick leaves. He even managed to claw his way half way up the tree from the sheer adrenaline rush caused by the pain ripping through his skinny limbs.
Huddled against the tree, he shivered as his arms gave off wisps of smoke from dissolving skin. His fingers shook so bad it took him three tries to correctly call the Taxi Service. Even when the cab arrived, the driver looked suspiciously at him. "Young kid like you shouldn't be smoking. Give yourself cancer by twenty, make your poor momma cry."
"Thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself," the angered Irken growled, his arms crossed over his chest as he slumped down in the back of the taxi. The taxi driver kept looking oddly at him back through the rear view mirror, but Murderer Zim didn't care. He was too pissed off to care.
The taxi let him off in front of Tak's house. "Ah, what would I do without corporate credit cards?" he wondered aloud as he paid the driver and then dashed up the front drive, making in the door with minimal skin loss.
"TAK! Why didn't you tell me about the acid-spewing sky on this planet?" he shouted angrily as he stormed through the base, drying himself with a towel he'd had the computer bring him. "Tak? TAK!"
The base was dark, the robots working their usual tasks in solitude. "Tak?" he asked, his voice little more than a squeal. Outside the window, more blue electricity ripped through the sky. "She can't be out there in that, can she…?" he muttered, peering out the window.
A well-timed flash of lightning illuminated a form limping up the driveway. Throwing a sheet over his head, Murderer Zim braved running out into the head of the storm, the terrifying winds whipping acid into his face.
"Tak!" he cried, throwing the sheet around her as she collapsed into his arms. "You shouldn't have been out in the rain! Why didn't you call a taxi?" he shouted angrily, hefting the girl up and rushing back inside the safety of the base.
"Could- couldn't- you took- the monies…" she shivered. "Couldn't pay driver…"
"Why didn't you stay where you were, you stupid girl?" he asked, rushing through the base with her. His arms and legs stung from the water she was dripping on him.
"Why do you care… what happens… to me… just a… freak," she muttered, her eyes shutting and her head falling back.
Frantically, Murderer Zim laid her down on top of a metal counter-top, deactivating her disguise. Her arms were covered is thick burn marks, the skin looking about as good as microwaved cheese sticks. Murderer Zim let out a low whistle. Outside of Violet's workplace he hadn't seen such wounding.
"Computer, hurry! Get to work on helping her!" he ordered. As the computer arms descended on the injured girl, Murderer Zim suddenly felt the more helpless than he'd felt in a long time…
Back in Invader Zim's lab, GIR sat in the window, admiring the rain coming down. "Master, Master, I wanna run outside and catch the droppies on my tongue!" he called brightly, not noticing that his master was no longer in the room.
As it was, Invader Zim was busily constructing what he hopped to be a spy device to implant into Tak's lair. He'd have to be extra-careful when dealing with her. The last two times she'd managed to find the spy devices, corner him at Skool, and use them to cause bodily injury to him.
The new one he was working on looked like a small green bug with little red spots on its back. It would have wings, and could mimic a real bug in order to avoid detection. All in all, Zim was rather proud with his plans for it.
If that phony alternative world Zim thought he was half of a match for the original Zim, then he was sadly mistaken! "I beat him once, I bet her once, I'll beat them both again!" he swore, shaking his fist at nothing.
"Actually, Gaz beat Tak," the computer corrected. If it had known what had gone on in the other universe, it would have pointed out that Invader Zim's victory over Murderer Zim had been not a real victory but a fluke of dumb luck and an opponent who had run off screaming in anger.
"I don't pay you to contradict me!" Zim snapped.
The computer sighed. There was no point in pointing out that he didn't pay the computer at all. He never listened. So, in all fairness, the computer decided not to inform him that he was crossing two wires that should not have been together dangerously close to one another. The loud boom and rising smoke that resulted almost made up for not getting paid, thought the computer.
It more than made up for the cost of implanting a spy camera in Zim's base to Dib, who was laughing so hysterically that he fell out of his desk chair and ended up rolling around on the floor.
Gaz threw open the door, her violet hair in perfect condition despite the fact that her clothes were still slightly damp from having been out in the rain. "Your laughter is making me want to kill, Dib," she said threateningly, never opening either of her eyes. Sometimes Dib wondered how the hell his sister managed to see where she was going, let alone what was on her video screen.
"This isn't only your house, you know!" Dib retorted, thinking he was far more clever than he actually was.
Gaz paused for only a moment. "You just don't get it Dib, do you? You just don't get it," she snarled, turning heel and exiting his room. The door slammed violently shut behind her, even though she hadn't touched it. A picture fell off Dib's wall with a loud crash.
Dib cringed, then relaxed and signed. Time to find the broom. At least watching Zim get smoked was a good remedy for the home-life blues. He shrugged and figured he would set it on loop while he cleaned. Taking a momentary break before he would begin cleaning, Dib leaned up against the glass in his window, watching the rain.
It was funny how he used to hate the rain. He couldn't go spying in the rain without coming home with a nasty cold. Weird things went on the rain, things he couldn't document because the water could clog up his camera's lens. Since the Irkens had arrived, rain had become a comforting thing to him. The Irkens didn't move around in the rain. When it rained was the one true time he felt safe, like the Irkens couldn't get him. Wouldn't get him. The rain had become his invincibility shield, or so he liked to think.
Leaving those silly thoughts behind him, Dib went to get the broom.
Back at Tak's base, Murderer Zim lay back in a chair, his disguise shed, looking down at his hands. She couldn't die. He hadn't gotten a chance to apologize for making her feel like a freak yet.
In his head, he thought back to training. He remembered being called "shorty, freak, worthless"… and those were the NICE names he'd been called. He remembered how it had hurt, how it had cut straight through to the very marrow of his bones.
He remembered not wanting to make anyone else feel like that as he brushed back her antennae, watching the computer work feverishly on her. An occasional moan or whimper was the only sign she gave of being alive at all. In the long run, it was probably better for her not to be conscious of the pain she was enduring.
He regretted having to leave her to do more research on human life, but he had no choice in the matter. "Please get well," he whispered. For the first time in his life, Murderer Zim was truly concerned about someone other than himself. Sure, he'd adored Spork, but as a fatherly figure and a master. He wouldn't have waited by Spork's bedside if Spork had fallen deathly ill.
Besides, she hated him. She hated him with every cell of her body. It was in her eyes when she looked at him; it was in her voice when she spoke to him. And why shouldn't she hate him? He'd made a slave out of her, threatened her with death, and had taken over her base. He'd hate someone who had done that to him, too. He'd hate them almost as much as he hated Invader Zim for killing Spork.
He pounded a fist against the wall. "NO!" he cried into the empty darkness. "ZIM does not fall in love! ZIM is powerful! ZIM has no need for stupid, worthless emotions!"
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. ZIM, it seemed, was lying to himself.