A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! You guys don't know how much it means to me! ~Blows nose and rubs away her tears~
Zim's finger was about to tighten over the trigger when suddenly, some person by the name of Floating Mage burst in and delivered a nasty kick to Zita, right in the gut. "Sorry, bro," she said apologetically, "but I wanted to kick her so badly so the author let me. Uhm, bye!" And with that, she disappeared into thin air.
"Oh... kay?" Zim said, an expression of confusion on his features. He turned his attention to Zita, who was on the floor in a ball, cradling herself and groaning. "Oh my, an injury!" Zim squealed, his voice dripping with fake concern. "We better get you out of here onto the sidewalk! Sidewalks help," Zim said intelligently as he dragged Zita out of his house and thrust her onto the pavement. "Heal nicely and visit me in... let's say, about never? Be sure to take an overdose of EVERY medicine possible, it helps."
Zim slammed the door and grinned triumphantly. His expression then turned menacing as he turned upon the babies, who were, by that time, all fully awake and alert. Tommy was glaring hatefully at him, Phil and Lil were looking stunned beyond words, and Chuckie's eyes were wider than ever, and his annoying orange hair was slicked and matted to his forehead due to his continuous sweating.
Zim cackled gleefully before raising the gun again... he aimed it at Tommy and pulled the trigger. "There's no caring mommy to save you now," he said. Before a mind in the room could register what was occurring, Tommy was on the floor, his eyes transformed into thick, bold X's. There was a gash in his head that gushed blood and hair and other gory things. Already the thick stuff was pooling on the ground beneath him.
Phil and Lil burst into tears and Chuckie fainted, tumbling off the couch. Zim laughed endlessly. Suddenly Lil ceased crying and faced Zim squarely. "We are not afraid of you," she stated, her voice taking on a new tone and pitch, sounding very much like one of those narrators on the superhero shows, "we resemble babies in every which way, and yet our minds are developed far beyond the normal toddler, or even adult, for that matter! Our knowledge spans widely, and every fiber of our brain is more advanced than your own, Irken."
Zim's antennae perked up. "What the hell--"
Lil laughed, shaking her head. "Do not question us. We are actors. Do you not know that, dimwit? We are baby geniuses born to play the roles of toddlers in their irrelevant playland. Born to gather wealth and fame for our dull minded creators. Didn't you ever wonder how we could speak rather fluently, even in our dumb baby roles, or how do you think we understand such a large vocabulary when most babies our age can only mumble, 'Dada!' and 'Mama!'? We are cloned babies, living only for the purpose of entertaining, Irken. Which means we are capable of many other actions," she said, her eyes gleaming and her lips taking on a twisted grin.
"Uhh..." Zim began, "then why the hell did you come over here with milk bottles and saliva as your weaponry?"
Lil sighed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, let me put it this way -- this was not really our idea. A writer for our show produced a script with these simple words: 'Learn about Invader Zim and kill him.' Actually, pretty much all of Nickelodeon agreed that this was the best script ever written. And so we were to play the roles of our characters, simply making everything up as we went along. You see, we have a contract between Klaskey Csupo stating that we are to maintain our babyish acts in the face of public, or any person outside of Nickelodeon, for that matter. But since I am faced with the problem that the tables have turned and members of my own army are dying when it should be you on the ground, losing all your blood, I have revealed my true self, our true identities. I am the only one gutsy enough to take such an action, as you can now see. And now that I have unveiled my knowledge, I can easily tell you that I will kill you, Irken. My mind is so much more advanced than your own that I could kill you single-handedly."
"Uhm, yeah," Zim said, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, that may be true and all, but guess what?"
Lil laughed amusedly. "What, simple minded fool?"
Zim smiled widely. "I have the gun, and you don't," he said pointedly before pulling the trigger on her. Lil only had time to gasp in horror before she was sprawled on the floor next to her companion, her chest ripped open and a river of blood flowing fastly from it.
Zim cackled maniacally before turning to Phil, who had hot tears running down his face, tears of grief and sadness and confusion... almost makes you feel bad, doesn't it? Key word: ALMOST.
Zim smiled with satisfaction. To see misery and grief like that satisfied him, brought a smile to his face and a laugh to his throat. It was quite an abnormal satisfaction, but... this is ZIM we're talking about, remember?
"Let me have the honors of ending your grief, uhm... Fredrick, and so that way, you won't cry anymore, and neither will you live with the pain of knowing that almost all of your friends' lives have been stolen away, and the not living part will make me so, so, so, so happy. So, what do you say? A deal? Please know that either way I'll shoot you," he added with a friendly smile. When the only reply was the grief-stricken sobs of the disgusting kid, Zim felt he would lose his mind (as if that hasn't already happened). "SHUT UP, DAMMIT!! DIE! DIE! DIE!!" Zim screamed, firing madly. Phil's sobs stopped abruptly as the shock of the impact consumed him.
Drama time!
Phil's eyes wandered down to survey his chest, which was swathed in blood. It gurgled and rushed out of him, longing to escape. His skin was paling, and he could already feel his muscles slackening. His body was wracked with an unbearable pain like he had never experienced before. The spark of life within his eyes was gradually being doused. "Lil," he cried out meekly. Already, much of his outfit was reddened from his own blood. Phil felt it on his fingers, felt it everywhere. Tears ran ceaselessly down his cheeks. This was it. Death was taking its toll upon the gross little infant. The pain was dulling, however, which was somewhat of a relief. He fell back onto the couch, his breathing ragged and laborious. He closed his eyes as relief washed over him, dashing away his pain and guilt, cradling him with loving arms...
And then the world burst into flames and a man appeared before him, shaking his head. "Sorry, kid. You're with Klaskey Csupo, you get a trip to Hell. See ya!" and he pulled a lever on the couch and Phil fell through, heat surrounding him and laughter everywhere and...
Zim laughed happily as Phil drew his last painstaking breath. On the floor, Chuckie was finally coming to. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision and sat up, but as he saw his friends lying dead all around him blackness nearly engulfed him all over again and he had to grab the couch to steady himself. Tears sprung to his eyes. What had happened? Suddenly, his memories flooded back and he recalled viewing Tommy's death. He had felt his eyes closing and the next second, when he had opened them, the rest of his friends were dead, too. The kid afraid of oatmeal couldn't help it; a sob escaped his throat and soon his body was shuddering with more and more of them. It had seemed so easy, getting rid of Zim... well, scary, but particularly easy. He and the rest of his team had pulled through everything with nothing more than maybe a small cut or two. And considering that they were 'advanced' babies, he was partially sure that they could flawlessly pull this off. But even Chuckie could feel the Grim Reaper looming near, waiting for him, too. He was next and he knew it.
"Oh great, you're up," Zim said as his antennae swung forward at the resonating sound of Chuckie's cries. "Well get over yourself, you'll be joining them."
Suddenly Chuckie felt his heart banging against his chest, threatening to burst through his ribcage, when suddenly he stood up. "No," Chuckie said, "I'm not ready to go and I won't go until I am ready."
"Uh, sorry, kid, that's not the way things go, at least not in my book," Zim said, smirking. "Now close your eyes or something. I'm pulling this trigger and I'm going to laugh while and after doing it."
"NO!" Chuckie cried, performing one of his karate moves from God knows where and kicking the gun from Zim's hands. He didn't know where this courage was emerging from but at the present moment he didn't care much either. "It's a facedown," Chuckie demanded, clenching his fists. "You, and me."
Bum bum BUM!!!!
Zim's finger was about to tighten over the trigger when suddenly, some person by the name of Floating Mage burst in and delivered a nasty kick to Zita, right in the gut. "Sorry, bro," she said apologetically, "but I wanted to kick her so badly so the author let me. Uhm, bye!" And with that, she disappeared into thin air.
"Oh... kay?" Zim said, an expression of confusion on his features. He turned his attention to Zita, who was on the floor in a ball, cradling herself and groaning. "Oh my, an injury!" Zim squealed, his voice dripping with fake concern. "We better get you out of here onto the sidewalk! Sidewalks help," Zim said intelligently as he dragged Zita out of his house and thrust her onto the pavement. "Heal nicely and visit me in... let's say, about never? Be sure to take an overdose of EVERY medicine possible, it helps."
Zim slammed the door and grinned triumphantly. His expression then turned menacing as he turned upon the babies, who were, by that time, all fully awake and alert. Tommy was glaring hatefully at him, Phil and Lil were looking stunned beyond words, and Chuckie's eyes were wider than ever, and his annoying orange hair was slicked and matted to his forehead due to his continuous sweating.
Zim cackled gleefully before raising the gun again... he aimed it at Tommy and pulled the trigger. "There's no caring mommy to save you now," he said. Before a mind in the room could register what was occurring, Tommy was on the floor, his eyes transformed into thick, bold X's. There was a gash in his head that gushed blood and hair and other gory things. Already the thick stuff was pooling on the ground beneath him.
Phil and Lil burst into tears and Chuckie fainted, tumbling off the couch. Zim laughed endlessly. Suddenly Lil ceased crying and faced Zim squarely. "We are not afraid of you," she stated, her voice taking on a new tone and pitch, sounding very much like one of those narrators on the superhero shows, "we resemble babies in every which way, and yet our minds are developed far beyond the normal toddler, or even adult, for that matter! Our knowledge spans widely, and every fiber of our brain is more advanced than your own, Irken."
Zim's antennae perked up. "What the hell--"
Lil laughed, shaking her head. "Do not question us. We are actors. Do you not know that, dimwit? We are baby geniuses born to play the roles of toddlers in their irrelevant playland. Born to gather wealth and fame for our dull minded creators. Didn't you ever wonder how we could speak rather fluently, even in our dumb baby roles, or how do you think we understand such a large vocabulary when most babies our age can only mumble, 'Dada!' and 'Mama!'? We are cloned babies, living only for the purpose of entertaining, Irken. Which means we are capable of many other actions," she said, her eyes gleaming and her lips taking on a twisted grin.
"Uhh..." Zim began, "then why the hell did you come over here with milk bottles and saliva as your weaponry?"
Lil sighed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, let me put it this way -- this was not really our idea. A writer for our show produced a script with these simple words: 'Learn about Invader Zim and kill him.' Actually, pretty much all of Nickelodeon agreed that this was the best script ever written. And so we were to play the roles of our characters, simply making everything up as we went along. You see, we have a contract between Klaskey Csupo stating that we are to maintain our babyish acts in the face of public, or any person outside of Nickelodeon, for that matter. But since I am faced with the problem that the tables have turned and members of my own army are dying when it should be you on the ground, losing all your blood, I have revealed my true self, our true identities. I am the only one gutsy enough to take such an action, as you can now see. And now that I have unveiled my knowledge, I can easily tell you that I will kill you, Irken. My mind is so much more advanced than your own that I could kill you single-handedly."
"Uhm, yeah," Zim said, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, that may be true and all, but guess what?"
Lil laughed amusedly. "What, simple minded fool?"
Zim smiled widely. "I have the gun, and you don't," he said pointedly before pulling the trigger on her. Lil only had time to gasp in horror before she was sprawled on the floor next to her companion, her chest ripped open and a river of blood flowing fastly from it.
Zim cackled maniacally before turning to Phil, who had hot tears running down his face, tears of grief and sadness and confusion... almost makes you feel bad, doesn't it? Key word: ALMOST.
Zim smiled with satisfaction. To see misery and grief like that satisfied him, brought a smile to his face and a laugh to his throat. It was quite an abnormal satisfaction, but... this is ZIM we're talking about, remember?
"Let me have the honors of ending your grief, uhm... Fredrick, and so that way, you won't cry anymore, and neither will you live with the pain of knowing that almost all of your friends' lives have been stolen away, and the not living part will make me so, so, so, so happy. So, what do you say? A deal? Please know that either way I'll shoot you," he added with a friendly smile. When the only reply was the grief-stricken sobs of the disgusting kid, Zim felt he would lose his mind (as if that hasn't already happened). "SHUT UP, DAMMIT!! DIE! DIE! DIE!!" Zim screamed, firing madly. Phil's sobs stopped abruptly as the shock of the impact consumed him.
Drama time!
Phil's eyes wandered down to survey his chest, which was swathed in blood. It gurgled and rushed out of him, longing to escape. His skin was paling, and he could already feel his muscles slackening. His body was wracked with an unbearable pain like he had never experienced before. The spark of life within his eyes was gradually being doused. "Lil," he cried out meekly. Already, much of his outfit was reddened from his own blood. Phil felt it on his fingers, felt it everywhere. Tears ran ceaselessly down his cheeks. This was it. Death was taking its toll upon the gross little infant. The pain was dulling, however, which was somewhat of a relief. He fell back onto the couch, his breathing ragged and laborious. He closed his eyes as relief washed over him, dashing away his pain and guilt, cradling him with loving arms...
And then the world burst into flames and a man appeared before him, shaking his head. "Sorry, kid. You're with Klaskey Csupo, you get a trip to Hell. See ya!" and he pulled a lever on the couch and Phil fell through, heat surrounding him and laughter everywhere and...
Zim laughed happily as Phil drew his last painstaking breath. On the floor, Chuckie was finally coming to. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision and sat up, but as he saw his friends lying dead all around him blackness nearly engulfed him all over again and he had to grab the couch to steady himself. Tears sprung to his eyes. What had happened? Suddenly, his memories flooded back and he recalled viewing Tommy's death. He had felt his eyes closing and the next second, when he had opened them, the rest of his friends were dead, too. The kid afraid of oatmeal couldn't help it; a sob escaped his throat and soon his body was shuddering with more and more of them. It had seemed so easy, getting rid of Zim... well, scary, but particularly easy. He and the rest of his team had pulled through everything with nothing more than maybe a small cut or two. And considering that they were 'advanced' babies, he was partially sure that they could flawlessly pull this off. But even Chuckie could feel the Grim Reaper looming near, waiting for him, too. He was next and he knew it.
"Oh great, you're up," Zim said as his antennae swung forward at the resonating sound of Chuckie's cries. "Well get over yourself, you'll be joining them."
Suddenly Chuckie felt his heart banging against his chest, threatening to burst through his ribcage, when suddenly he stood up. "No," Chuckie said, "I'm not ready to go and I won't go until I am ready."
"Uh, sorry, kid, that's not the way things go, at least not in my book," Zim said, smirking. "Now close your eyes or something. I'm pulling this trigger and I'm going to laugh while and after doing it."
"NO!" Chuckie cried, performing one of his karate moves from God knows where and kicking the gun from Zim's hands. He didn't know where this courage was emerging from but at the present moment he didn't care much either. "It's a facedown," Chuckie demanded, clenching his fists. "You, and me."
Bum bum BUM!!!!