Waking up the next morning was a decision Dib immediately regretted. He was still sore from being the object of Gaz's wrath, which he'd somehow made worse by trying to blame the disturbance on Zim. It was the alien's fault, really, but since she wasn't in the mood to chase him down, Dib had suffered for both of them. Another number on Dib's ever-growing 'Reasons Why I Hate Zim' list.
Luckily for Dib, the weekend had finally come and he was spared having to endure skool. Too bad things never worked in his favor for very long.
He groggily moved to get out of bed, got tangled up in his blankets and tumbled heavily to the floor. On second thought, maybe getting up wasn't such a great idea.
Five minutes after getting comfortably back into bed, Gaz kicked open the door to his room, glaring daggers at him.
"Get up, Dib! Dad's not here and he encrypted the microwave, and I need your access code before I can use it."
"Why not just have cereal for breakfast, like we normally do?"
"Because you ate it all! Now get up!"
If he'd eaten all the cereal again and she was letting him live, maybe complaining wasn't such a good idea.
Meanwhile, Zim was perfecting his dancing skills deep within his lab and trying to ignore the familiar sounds of destruction that indicated GIR was probably trying to cook.
"Computer, if GIR does anything too... GIR-ish, restrain him and repair the base."
"...too GIR-ish?"
"Yes!"
"...Ookaayy..."
The computer wondered how it was possible for a machine to get a headache, then decided that Zim just had that power. He may not be very tall or an excellent Invader, but he had undeniable skill in destroying things and causing pain.
"There! My new 'dance routine' is complete! None shall resist my awesome power of movement! Hmm... if it works, perhaps... GIR!"
A pause.
"GIR! Come to my lab, immediately!"
"He's restrained, like you ordered. You want me to release him?" The computer asked.
"Ye- no, wait. Bring him here, first, then release him!"
Moments later, the dysfunctional robot was dropped into the room, covered in a sticky pink goo which confirmed Zim's suspicion of cooking attempts.
"GIR, my dancing skills are now at their highest. A test is in order! We shall go to one of your revolting 'night clubs' and test my expertise among the humans there. Understand?" He glared at the robot, which was difficult. It's not easy to glare at something running around the room screeching in joy, which was what GIR was doing. Zim sighed and decided GIR probably understood from the shouts of "I's goin' dancin' wit Master!" and so on.
"Minimoose! We're going out! I need you to stay here and gaurd the base. Contact me if you have any trouble, got it?" The little moose squeaked it's affirmative. "Good! Now, for ingenious disguises! Come, GIR!"
A few hours and thousands of disguises later, Zim had found the perfect disguise! "This is it, GIR! Whatcha think?"
"Ooooh... We gon' look so pretty!" Zim decided that was a positive response, and they set out.
A few minutes later they arrived at the club, GIR in his 'little brother/human child' costume, and Zim looking about the same as he normally did in his disguise with the addition of platform shoes and a hat. Very stylin'.
They worked their way to the middle of the dance floor, Zim hardly suppressing his disgust and GIR having a great time of it, and Zim jumped into action.
Before long, people had formed a circle around them to watch. Zim had improvised some Irken fighting moves into the dance, earning some cheers. But of course they were impressed, he was vastly superior, after all! GIR was happily dancing along side him, earning some coo's and aww's just for being so cute, along with plenty of crowd support for his dancing prowess. Together they were the center of attention, and before too long the whole club had come to see what was going on.
"Success, GIR! The whole population of this revolting club has fallen under our mighty dancing spell! Now lets get outta here."
"But Master! I wantz to daance! Dese people so niiice!" The little robot looked sadly at Zim, imploring him to stay for a while longer. Zim groaned.
"If we leave now, GIR, I promise I'll buy you a Suck Munkey on the way home. Deal?"
"Yes, my lord!" GIR saluted and they began battling their way past the throng of people between them and the door, ignoring the disappointed cries that followed them.
Once outside and after Zim had finished his disgust induced retching from the horrors he'd witnessed within the club, he turned again to GIR with an evil glint in his eyes. "GIR, I think I know now how to rid us of the Dib-stink! This dance may prove to be more useful than I thought... come, GIR! I have much work to do!" He cackled evilly.
"But my Suck Munkey! Munkeeeyy! You promised...," the little robot implored, turning the cuteness on full force.
"Eh, fine! We'll get you your filthy snack! But hurry up, I've had about as much of these humans as I can stand for today."
Across town, Dib shuddered, an eerie feeling of doom descending on him as he watched Mysterious Mysteries from the couch. He turned to Gaz.
"Did you feel that just now?"
"...feel what?"
"Oh, um, nothing. Say, I haven't done anything to make you mad in the last five minutes or so, have I? Any soda drinking, breaking your gaming concentration, talking..."
"Other than whatever you're doing now, no...," she glared at him, "why?"
He shook his head. "I just got this weird feeling, like-"
"If you say anything about being abducted or a Nosferatu attack, I swear I'm going to rip your tongue out and strangle you with it."
Dib stared at his frightening sister for a moment, then decided that watching TV was safer than a conversation, ignoring the feeling that someone, somewhere, was laughing maniacally about something stupid.
At that moment, Zim suddenly stopped laughing with the uncomfortable feeling that he was being ignored.
