Zim's robot dad was not the most efficient, intelligent, or even remotely sane autonomous parent droid in the world, but he knew when his pseudo son was having problems. So when he found Zim with a strange, large-headed, and abominably human protrusion from his crotch, he decided it was time for a heart to heart with his son.
Zim, of course, was still unconscious. He was also drooling slightly. That, mused Robo-Dad, was normal for a boy his age.
"Son!" cried the robot, taking him around the shoulder and lifting him to his feet, eliciting a groan from Dib as his head hit the floor, "At your age, certain things are changing, certain…private things…down there."
"Huh?" murmured Zim, coming slowly to consciousness.
"It's normal for a young man to want to understand these processes. And naturally your mother and I support you in whatever brand of coffee you choose." Suddenly, his eyes flashed fire, his face screwed into a mask of bitterness and paternal angst. He loomed down at the half conscious Zim, and addressed him in low, menacing whisper. "But not decaf, son. Never decaf."
"Zuh?"
Robo-Dad dropped him to the floor and struck a dramatic pose, claw to his forehead. "Woe to those who drink of the demon-bean!" He rolled off, crying tears of coolant which sizzled on the floor.
"Muh…" Said Zim, and looked at Dib. The human was still out, his enormous head lolling about with Zim's every move. Zim wiggled. Dib awoke.
"Hey, cut that out. Ouch!" he gingerly put his hands between them.
"That really, really, REALLY, REALLY, hurt Zim! Don't ever do that to me again!"
"You mean, 'do that to us', no?" said Zim. "It would seem that our pain centers have become fused as well. The only conclusion that makes ANY sense is that your inferior nervous system is slowly infecting my own, which mean that I feel your pain!"
"Hey, who's infecting who here?" said Dib. Seeing Zim's hand on the floor, he whacked it with his fist. Zim cried out, gritting his teeth. Dib pulled his hand back, startled as it throbbed in sympathetic pain. "Hey, Zim! I just fel- Ow!" Zim rubbed his own head, having just felt his own slap.
"Grrr. This is all your fault, human! You won't even the give me the satisfaction of causing you pain! Gir!" The little robot screeched to a halt beside the two enemies, eyes red with obedient vigor.
"Sir!" Zim smacked him in the head.
"Ow! Why'd you do that?" cried the robot. His eyes grew wide and blue, a picture of wounded innocence focused entirely on his cruel master. So he didn't see it coming when Dib slapped him from behind. Gir jumped back, afraid. The two looked at him, menacingly.
"If we can't hurt each other…" said Dib…
"Then perhaps we'll abuse you…" sneered Zim.
Gir, desperate, had the chance for one last, desperate look of desperation and desperate despair, and then he desperately tried to escape Zim and Dib's clutches. His was not, it seemed, desperate enough. The twisted nemeses inflicted the full force of their insane hatred for each other on the poor robot, pummeling him as only a boy and an alien, stuck together at the hip, possibly could.
Perhaps now would be a good time to go into the construction of the Irken SIR robot. The Standard Information Retrieval unit is composed almost entirely of Irk-o-plast, a high-density composite drink container plastic, used to guard all the most important of Irken beverages. It is, after all, a thermos. Therefore, the comparatively puny efforts of a struggling boy and alien to dent a SIR's thick hide would amount to the following.
"Hey, that tickles"
"Arg!, My fists! My beautiful fists!"
Dib paused his assault on the hapless robot, and not just because his knuckles were bleeding. He looked towards Zim, still raggedly beating his fists against Gir, who was slurping a soda and reading a comic book.
"Zim?" asked Dib. "Zim!"
"What?" cried the Invader, trying to shake some feeling into his hands.
"Since when have I been this aggressive?"
"What do you mean, earth-scum?"
"I mean, I've always wanted to stop your evil…"
"Ingenious evil!" corrected Zim.
"Uh, right. But when did I ever want to beat up Gir? Or you, for that matter?"
Zim paused, thinking. "Go on…"
"I, I think I've gained some of your aggression, Zim. I think we're becoming…"
"If the next word out of your mouth is 'one', I will destroy you." hissed Zim.
"Well, do you feel any different?"
"No. Well, I do have the sudden urge to turn myself in to the authorities for autopsy."
Dib looked at him.
"Damn you, human! It wasn't enough to have my precious, superior body, you want to steal my mind!" As if your puny intellect could hold the thoughts of ZIM!"
"Zim, we have to think about this, there must be some way out of this situation, while out minds are still intact."
"Enough talk, earth boy!" cried Zim, and reached behind him for the Death Ray™
he knew to be under the console. Dib stared into the face of death. A face with two big blue glowing eyes.
"Hi!" said Gir.
Zim released his grip on the little robot's feet.
"Where's my death ray, Gir?"
"I keeps ma muffins in there now!" said Gir, and pulled out a muffin from under the console. He stuffed it into his mouth and chewed happily. "Tuna!" he yelped, and danced off into the base.
Dib looked off after him. Then he noticed something, a glint, under the console, within his reach: The Death Ray™ : sleek, deadly, and purple. He looked toward Zim, but he was distracted, searching around under the table. His eyes fell again on the gun.
"It would be so easy," said a small, familiar voice in his head. "Just take it. Destroy Zim. And then…the world! Hahahaha!" Sweat beaded on Dib's forehead. Zim was still under the console, his back turned. Dib's hand twitched. It started to move, almost of its own accord, towards the gun… almost there, almost…
"What are you doing with that snack dispenser, human? Said Zim. Dib could barely react as the gun was snatched from his hand. Zim put the trigger to his mouth and poured out some white, whip-creamy looking stuff. He swallowed happily. "Minty!"
"Ok, Zim, that's just weird. Now think, there must be some way out of…each other."
"Surely that giant head of yours contains some laughable plans!" chuckled Zim, "Tell me so that I might laugh! At you. For having a stupid plan."
"Well…" said Dib…