A/N of Authory Noteness: My second attempt a Zim Ficage. I hope you like it. And if you do enjoy it, be patient. I am a sloooow ficcy writer.
I personally think that the fact that this is FAN FICTION should be enough to tip off the fact that I do not own Invader Zim. But let us give credit where credit be due anyway, shall we?
Invade Zim belongs to people who are not me.
Strong Bad and his e-mail wisdom, despite being horribly misquoted, belongs to those Homestar Runner-making geniouses that are not me.
Now, on to da fic-ness....
.:Chapter 1:.
It was a lovely and cheerful Saturday. Birds were singing, children were playing...you know, all that usual happy cheeful Saturday type junk. However, things were far darker within the walls of Zim's house.
The Invader was standing in the middle of his living room, stock still in an arrogant stance. He gripped the gun tightly in his tiny gloved hand, a smile of pure sadistic evil plastered on his green face. Slowly, he brought his weapon up, aiming carefully at his prey. "So, you thought you could elude me," he said in a low, sinister voice, "Fool! Your end begins now!" He squeezed the trigger, chuckling wickedly....
Miss.
With an angry grunt, Zim slammed the gun to the ground as the duck flew off screen. A fat brown dog rose up from behind the grass, only to point and laugh at the Invader's misfortune. Naturally, this only made Zim even more mad.
"You dare mock ZIM?!" the Irken screamed. He immediatly pulled a deadly laser pistol out of his pak. With the fury of a thousand rabid baboons armed with deadly laser pistols, he let off several powerful shots at the game system sitting on the floor. "Ha HA! Laugh at me NOW, you inferior beast of the 8-bits!" He watched the smoke clear, revealing an untouched NES system and a lot of charred floor. Zim growled and made several of his trademark noises of over exagerrated exasperation as he flung the game out of an open window. A decent explosion in the distance followed.
"Bye bye Mario!"
Zim turned around to find himself joined by GIR, who was waving at the remains of the Nintendo. Good, Zim need something to vent his wrath to. "Gah! These stupid Earth video games are worthless! How can I relax from this exhausting week if all I have to work with is such craptacular GARBAGE! Huh?! HOW?!?"
GIR simply stared blankly at his angry master. "Where'd the Veenie Weenies gooo?" he cried, waving a tiny Vienna Suasages can in Zim's face. The can was empty; an Irken symbol visible at the bottom. Zim sighed. It was always something with GIR. Always something involving food, anyhow.
"I imagine that you ate them all, GIR," the Irken replied through gritted teeth.
"But I want mooorre! I's HUNGRY!"
"Then just...eat something else! You always manage to find some form of FILTH to naw on!"
"There ain't nuthin' else! It allllll ran awaaaay, and that makes me sad..."
"What are you talking about?" Zim said as he made his way to the refriderator, "We have plenty of food! And why are you hungry in the first place, your a rob--" Silence filled the kitchen as Zim stared into the empty fridge. An ominous howling wind of emptyness could be heard coming from somewhere deep within the appliance's barren depths. A glowing orange mass in one corner absorbed a lone Irken-emblazoned Cheese Nip inot it's blobby matter. Zim just shrugged. "Eh, look at that." Suddenly, he could feel GIR's metal body plop on top of his head, two large round cyan eyes staring hopefully at him.
"Hmph! Can't you just order one of those disgusting Earth pizzas that you seem to love so much?"
"No, they don't like me no more," GIR replied with a smile.
Zim was about to ask why, but then thought better of it. He was pretty sure that he did NOT want to know. "Fine, GIR. I'll go make a call to the Massive and have our food supply restocked."
"Yaaaaaaay for food!" The SIR unit hopped down and began a happy squeally dance while Zim made his way down the toilet to his computers. Within minutes, he was in front of a large screen, looking at his leaders. Tallest Purple looked rather annoyed. Tallest Red looked flat-out pissed. Purple relunctantly took on the responsibility of speaking first, his voice monotone. He greeted Zim with a sigh.
"Yes, Zim, what do you want now--"
Red immediatly brought up his hand, silencing Purple. "No!" he interrupted, "Not today!" Purple looked at his fellow leader quizically, but Red refused to let anyone stop his rant. "Zim, I don't know why you've called, but whatever it is, it can wait! We are in the middle of a very VERY important desicion right now, and I do NOT feel like listening to your egotistical nonsense today!"
"But, My Tallest, I jus--"
"I don't care what your latest plan is, or how amazing you are, or if you even have a whole army of giant-headed Earth smeets after you..."
"Yes, but you don't understand, I need--"
"Call. Us. LATER. Like, in a month or three." With those words, Tallest Red cut off the transmission. "Ahh...that felt good. Now, then, where were we?"
The two rulers turned there attention to another screen, looks of deep concentration on their faces.
"Oooo! Oo! Ooo!" Purple pointed to something on the screen, "That one! That one right there!"
"Hey, now that one looks cool..." Red selected where Purple was pointing.
"Dear Strongbad, I was just wondering what you would look like as a Japanese cartoon..."
Back at Zim's base, Zim was deep in thought as he made his way up the elevator to the house level. He hoped that he didn't do anything to hamper the Tallest's decision making...it sounded like they were trying to figure out something very crucial! It looked like GIR's tiny little weenies would have to wait. As for Zim, he had nothing to worry about! Invaders were highly trained for such situations; they could go for exceedingly long amounts of time without eating!
grrrrrrrrrowwlll...
"Eh? Whazzat?" Zim looked around the elevator in search for the source of the noise...
grrrrrowlllllgrummmmblllllle...
Then he looked down and his stomach...the noise was coming form him.
GIR was still dancing his little metallic butt off when Zim rose up from the toilet. He was in his disguise, adjusting his wig.
"We gettin' mah WEENIES?" GIR squealed.
"Get your disguise on GIR," Zim commanded, his contact-covered eyes narrowing. "We're going shopping."