Ugh, sorry for the uber-long delay between chapters. But! I have my own computer now, so I can write as often as I want as long as I want, meaning more updates! Huzzah!
Legal crap: I own nothing! Jhonen is God, and this is the last one of these I write, because the simple fact that this is at should say that it isn't mine! Really, shouldn't just that make disclaimers a little pointless?
Dib trudged aimlessly down the cracked city sidewalk, squinting through the heat waves and glaring sunshine for anyone he could advertise to. As summer had progressed, people had become fewer and fewer, and now there seemed to be no-one at all out in this murderous heat.
No one, that is, except for him.
The suit had gotten less and less pleasant to be in, as well. It seemed to retain the heat from the day before and was always stifling. The reek of sweat had understandably worsened as well.
He mentally cursed Simmons as he dragged himself down the street, having learned the hard way that 'unfriendly language' was generally met with a rather painful shock, and such language consisted of pretty much everything not involving the glory of Poop products.
He'd asked, no, he /begged/ his father to let him quit and at least find another job, but the Professor had just laughed and patted his head.
"Now, now, Son, you made a commitment! And I'm still not satisfied with your level of sanity. Until you seem sane again, you can stay at your job!"
Dib's heart had sunk. Great, another clever ploy to get him into REAL SCIENCE!
"But Dad! I haven't been able to spy on Zim all summer! Who knows what horrible evil he could be planning?! Huh!?"
"Ah, you can play with your little foreign friend on your days off!"
"...I don't /have/ any days off!"
And the discussion had just gone downhill from there. Dib seemed doomed to a summer of filthy costumes, blistering heat, and scary hobos. And as for the fate of the Earth... it was depressing, really.
So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't notice the odd green dog literally flying up the road until it impacted with his stomache. He went down hard, reeling and wondering what in the name of Nessie had just hit him.
"Dib-monkey! Izzat joo?!" screeched an all too familiar voice, recognizable instantly as GIR.
"GIR! Don't be a fool! That filthy beast is no Dib! Now come here!" Anotehr unforgettable voice, laden with irritation. Dib almost wept.
He sat up, eager to face his nemesis, humiliating dog-clown suit or no. Zim, however, was apparantly shocked to see exactly who his minion had launched himself into.
"YOU! No, I'm done with you! I-I defeated you! WHY MUST YOU HAUNT ZIM?! I sell no revolting candies, so why do you appear?!"
Dib blinked, forgetting the pain in his stomache in favor of confusion. Zim apparantly had a very negative association with Poop Dog... not that he had a very positive association with many Earth-things in the first place, but this seemed drastic even for Zim.
Zim, true to his nature, hadn't stopped ranting.
"-and that /horrible/ chihuahua! I endured /all/ of that, and yet you still haunt me! Explain yourself, Spectre of Defeat!" He glared venemously at Dib, who had moved to trying unsuccessfully to pry GIR off of his chest.
"But Master! It's gotsta be the Dib-human! It was last time, too! With all da caaandyyyy....," he faded off into a drooling fit, further staining the filthy costume, much to Dib's annoyance.
"Nonesense, GIR! Cease with your madness! But... perhaps I'm wrong, as well. This one doesn't act like that evil Gangsta Spectre... no, it couldn't be!" He rounded on Dib, jabbing a gloved finger into his drool-coated chest. "How many of your kind are there, revolting dog-man?! Why do you only appear in this miserable heat? And WHY is your head so big?!"
"My head's not big! And what are you talking about?! Man, Zim, you're even crazier than I remembered!"
"Remember?! So /are/ you the same spectre from last summer? Answer Zim!"
Dib was actually somewhat grateful for the alien's ignorance. For Zim to know of this job... he'd never take him seriously again! And the shame of having to face him after such a revalation... he shuddered to think of it.
"No, uh, I'm... the.. Gangsta Spectre of Advertising? Maybe?" He gulped, hoping that would be believable enough for Zim.
"Oh... okay, then. Sorry about that... I, uhm, thought you were someone else."
Luckily for him, Zim is an idiot.
"Come on, GIR, the Dib-sister lied. He isn't here. Let's go back to the base and eat nachos," Zim sounded very tired all of a sudden. And he was looking for Dib? What the--?
"Wait, why are you looking for Dib?" That was never a good sign...
"Well, it's complicated. You see, I'm supposed to be conquering this revolting dirt-ball of filth. The Dib is my greatest enemy and sole obstacle in victory, but it's... well, /boring/ without him foiling my plans! There's no-one else to challenge my brilliance! His sister said he'd gotten a job somewhere in the city...," here Zim seemed to revert back into his normal angery self, "What pathetic /job/ could possibly be more important than challenging me?! What happened to all that sickening loyalty to his planet?!"
Zim grabbed GIR by the collar and started off down the street, forgetting the being he'd been talking to moments before as he flew into a full-fledged rant. Dib stared after him for a moment, touched and greatly disturbed that his enemy seemed to be missing him.
The reek of the suit was getting over-whelming, now coated in GIR germs as it was, and Dib decided that now was a great time to head back to the 'head-quarters,' as the grimy, crumbly building was called.
Maybe Earth would be safe until he found a way out of this job, after all....
Yay! The End! Now, I want to thank all of the sweet and wonderful people who reviewed me and who are still going to read this even after I took a couple of months to post anything new… Thanks for waiting and for reading it in the first place! It's late, and I have evil exams tomorrow and sleep time is now. Next chapter will hopefully be done soon! Now, review! Please?