~ 50 YEARS LATER ~

Fifty years isn't a long time for Irkens, I'm more considered a teen by human years; but that thought went on in my mind still, the explanation of me killing Irkens, and even animals for me to eat. One bright spring day, I walked down the sidewalk of the street I used to live on, before I stole myself a home and a couple of possessions for myself to keep me sane.

"Is it because my early smeet hood was focused on war? Do I still want to be comforted and pampered by someone special? Was it the electrical shock from my pack that made me go haywire? Is it for revenge? Am I even a homicidal maniac.....?" I paused for a moment, but me acting like a teenager now, I denied that last idea.

.

"...NAH! That's nit wit talk! If I were a homicidal maniac, I would be extremely tall, be all pale and gothic like, and wear really cool, long buckled boots for kicking some mean ass!! Oh, yeah!!" I did a professional karate kick in the air, to show that not only I had the gift of killing, but I learned myself self defense moves.

But I still was so young, and again I acted older of my age, full of ideas and defense skills of a 200-year old. I was 4 ft tall, and still wore that huge red shirt, which was still too big, and I changed a lot on the outside.

"Hey, look! It's her!! IT'S THE SLAUGHTERING RAT BEAST!! RUN!!!" An Irken child shouted, pointing at me obviously, and was also obviously teasing me again. His name was Chickler, older than me, but still shorter. He was the most popular kid in my neighborhood, and he had a group of 26 other Irken popular wannabes following him all the time, and laughing along at his jokes.

Which was exactly what they did now. They laughed at me, pointed at me, and had even thrown mirrors at me. They had done this every single day ever since I moved here, on Jet street 9, and I didn't know why they would laugh at me so very often, I was always kind to them, and never even strike a dagger in front of their eyes, but they still treated me as if I disrespected them or something.

And the mirrors were the most oddest thing about it. That popular gang would always do worser things to weaklings and wimps, but What's up with those fucking pieces of glass?! They would only do it to me only, and I never even bothered to look right at them, but instead break them apart and make knives out of them.

"Loser! You ugly, hideous creature from the dungeons of doom!" His fellow Irkens supported him, and chanted repeatedly, "Dungeons of doom! Dungeons of doom! DUNGEONS OF DOOM!"

"Why do you jerks always do this to me every single damn day!!" I said to myself, and then talked back directly at them, " I've never done anything to harm you Irks, and yet you're willing to break the spirit of me? And what's up with those fucking mirrors you keep throwing at me!?

"I hope you all die from either black hole suck ups or melting in the sun's core, or get eaten by slaughtering rat people and hoguli!! And once you do, I hope your after life fate will be HELL!!! Or at least the land of ultra-cute hypnotic bunnies of doom!! HMPH!!!" I stomped away from them while they threw sticks at my PAK, and went back over to the abandoned hover truck that I called home chamber.

I've been living there for 44 years without public notice, and managed to have electricity, security powered locks, and a food-delivery tube built to suck up any snack foods within 1100ft. diameter. But I would always get the same thing for my mouth; Burritos and McIrkuela Coke. The only main room in the mover's large size truck was the living room, of course, and in it had a kitchen corner, a crafting corner, a research corner, a normal entrance door and in the middle was big, wide open space that was carpeted with kiwi feathers and thick artificial rubber fur.

This is where I trained to hunt, kill, and learn some major martial arts skills. I've learned all of my lessons from The Dummy's Online Guide To Kicking Hard Core Bottoms; Everything from kick boxing, wrestling, jumping really high, cracking bones, speaking utter Japanese nonsense, punching techniques, Matrix style attack forms, flying push over attacks using only the mind and even breaking heavy matter, all in just 2 min. 15 sec.

"Oh, goody! A HAM sandwich!" I cheered when I came back home, "That's a new one, and hopefully there's more where that one came flying threw!" I ate the dirt, disgusting thing. But then again I never did ate the best food throughout my life. "Hey, Scarlet!"

"Yes, masteress Jil?" The laptop-robot droned, as she'd usually do.

"Download the latest satellite scans from House ID #99.34879, I want to print those blue prints of Chickler's home and infest it with fart gases while he's gone for military training!"

Scarlet cracked up at my plan, "You don't stop with the whole vengeance and pranking activities, do you?" She buzzed a bit, downloading the requested information. The bad thing about this was after she was done scanning something, she would speak computer gibberish.

"Scan download complete!! Additionally, you occupied a bequeathed text compounded virtually analytical engine manufactured memorandum 54k merit of amplitude, C: Documents /Sound Effect Files/highpitchbeep4.midi/playing time-4 seconds approx.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, you femputer?!"

"You've got mail," She grudged, these things are always so irked about their master's limited vocabulary and grammar. "DA-LING!!!"

"Mail?! What the fuck?" It was not typically of me to get any email, I was only known as 'the killer who got away with everything' in this city.



"It's from that guy you dated last week, you know, Kris?"

I barfed at the sound of that name. "Him?! I thought I was through with that jerk!! I've been going out with male Irkens every weekend just so I can find a soul mate that truly understands me, but every single freaking morning afterwards, he's dead on the floor with his intestines hanging over the ceiling like a set of chimes or something!! I've even tried being lesbian once!!! But Kris stunk the night so much that I didn't feel like killing him at all!! Open the mail file up, please!"

Oh yeah, that's another thing about me. I keep thinking I'm the type who would fall in l-o-v-e in an instant with somebody, and go on over 2 million dates a year. I've been trying this out for over 22 years straight, and I haven't found anyone decent since

"Should I read the text aloud?"

Jil: Certainly! I wanna think about the way to annihilate that scum bag to death while his voice is at my mind."

"Dear Jil, I found your email address at the net book under the green pages, so I thought I'll give you a message. I'll probably propose you to marriage chaining now, cause you were the one for me!! I would think about, and care about my little darling for all the hours, minutes and seconds that we are both apart and together, holding claw to claw. Heart.jpg, Kissingheart.jpg"

I did not expect that much of a fraud. "... Ummm...How sweet of you?"

"Except that you look like a total mutated rat-Vortian freak-a-zoid! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! No one's gonna go for you except for a blind mole!!! Haha!!!!! Did you drank a whole bunch of nuclear waste or something? I swear you look just like Crazy Ugly--"

"Grrrrrrrrrrr....!!!!!"

Scarlet continued, having a tad bit of fun at this, and altered her voice, "And you smell like cheese dip and you wear that overly large shirt!! Even if you are probably 10 ft. tall if you stood up straight for once, but that shirt still wouldn't fit! It's so smelly and dirty, don't you ever wear anything else? Even on dates? Dumb ass you are! And did I mention you look ugly on the inside and outside?"

"Grrrrrr......!!!!"

Scarlet stopped reading, knowing I was about to literally crush her into pieces, "No, wait, it's me!! Your faithful artificial intelligence system stored in a flat fold up box!!"

"You Ass hole!!" I got so insanely mad that I kick the laptop right on the screen, and I stomped on it into molecule-cubic sized pieces. I destroyed my only companion, despite my anger. But I didn't realize that yet. To tell you the truth, I never saw any part of my body other than my arms and hands before then.

I didn't believe in mirrors as a fashion-not saver, but as a weapon of pure sorrow, vengeance and destruction to the Irken body. Plus they made good scissors! I started to really think about that email, and wondered if I was truly the ugliest beast he'd ever met. I could just grab one of my mirrors and have a look, but I wanted to do some research and memory bank inspection before I can really see for myself what am I thought as to many Irkens in the city.

I found Scarlet dead, and called immediately this really nice engineer from Vort who had put all the pieces back together in just 48 hours straight. "Thanks sir, and here's the money that I own you for the work!

"Ummm...No thanks, I'll be going home now...to meet up with Lard Nar!" He walked outside, trying to get away from me, and started talking to him self, "Say, where did that guy go anyway....?"

I offered him some Irken monies I had, but he ran back to one of his private ships and flew back to his home. I was glad Scarlett came back to life, but unfortunately, she came back with a lot less personality. I flet sorry for myself for causing the damage in the first place.

"ere are some videos....from security cameras from the horrible incident on Planet Irk 3 days before you were fully processed, mas-terrrr!! They were in the Irken Reproduction Department Building #24."

"You don't sound feminine at all, do you?"

"Downloading, processing, programming, pooping...."

"Pooping?" I sighed, stupid me, to make my friend say that! "Just give me all the news microchips there are and play all the tapes simultaneously."

For 2 weeks, I learned about my past and what the dangerous chemicals had done to me. Here's the scientific thing about it: Zim's plasma rays only shot my tube for only 4.343455 seconds approximately, thus, it barley hit it so I was able to survive. But it got on the glass surface just enough so that it created the huge crack on the glass, and most of the freaky colored waste stuck to the 1/4 ceiling dripped and dropped right through the crack, and mixed with the development liquid and turned orange instantly.

Normally on the last several days of Irken reproduction, my body would have created antibodies that were so strong and powerful, that it allowed me to live for so long and grow new body parts as they've been cut off. Only rare diseases and serious wounds weaken the Irken so badly that its life ends. I was on that very stage when the bad chemicals came, but because of them, my special immune system did not fully develop, and a rare and destroying parasital virus had struck on me.

It took many years until it actually effected me, and when it did, one body part by one all get either torn or even ripped off of me, and no other replacement was to be grown. It also destroys the insides of me, and basically it's a very slow, painful death. I took that very mirror Chickler had thrown at my face, and examined the whole demented soul of me, who was not only doomed, but incurable.

"...What happened to part of my eye? And the eyelash on it is missing! I felt my head and stroked the antennas, "My antennas are fine, but what the fuck happened to the corner of my head? All the skin and bone worn off and I can see my own brain!

I pulled my arms, starring at them shockingly, "They're falling off!!! UGH!! I have a gigantic hump right on my pak!!" I saw the feet next, and shrieked, "I have Vortian feet! Kris's right! My back is deformed! If only I knew it was coming, I would've had a metal bar stuck to my spine!! Oh, my neck is ever so darn long...."

To make things worse, my bottom jaw fell off my mouth, and dropped onto the floor with a 'Thump!'. I felt like a zombie fading away, turning into mold and dust.

"OH MY FREAKING GOD!!!!!!" I screamed, if you were to translate my muffled voice.

It was too late. The parasites were chewing down on me as it was, and as I have found out from a full body x-ray, the only thing left to save now was my brain. I saw an add from Vort for new body brain transplants for over 444,444,444 monies!! I could never be able to afford that! In just one month I've made myself a whole series of metal parts, wires and tubes to replace and hold up my whole body. I needed a new one fast, even if it wouldn't be until over full century later that I would be going to the burial planet where all my victims go, Planet Deadzone.

I was dying, and for the first time in my life, I cried and cried and cried. I sobbed in tears that burned my cheeks apart, and as I was flooding my house with my sadness waters, I grabbed on to my hover board, inserted Scarlett in my PAK and flew out of the home I would be abandoning now and for the rest of my life. I flew up into space, and already Irkens and pilots looked out from their windows and laughed at my ugliness, or just pitied me and ignored me flying in front of them, feeling more upset and disappointed in myself now then ever before. Not only I had killed many innocent Irkens, and others beasts and creatures from beyond the stars that had come to challenge me, but now I'm murdering myself.

I should've found this out sooner than now, and even back when I was a mere smeet, I knew something was wrong with me. I ached my eye muscles and my breathing organs from all the tears that have passed by, and I was guilty and felt stupid as hell. That is, if a place can have little or even any intelligence! My surviving brain had lead me to fly over to the ship I never would expect myself to go, even if I did respect my own species rights and ways.

"Wha...what? Where am I?" I sniffed, yawned and groaned in aching pain. "I should just fall off my hover board now, and float in space until my body rots, like a banana would do in just 3 days."

And that's exactly what I did.