"My Conqueror"

The recess bell rang and stinking, filthy Earth children spewed from the Skool doors and windows into the yard. Some frolicked in the mud, an endless lineup for the lone slide trailed down against the barbed-wire topped fence, and the monkey bars creaked from the weight of the crowd of children atop. A throng gathered around one of the rickety picnic tables where masses of shouting and cheering children blocked whatever was going on. Zim marched over to the table to see what all the fuss was about.

"What is this? What's going on?" Zim bellowed.

"It's a Something-Mon card battle," droned Carl.

"Huh?"

"Something-Mon cards, man! Where are yours?"

"I have no such cards," Zim scoffed.

The entire table stopped yelling and cheering and looked at Zim in disbelief. Some of them drooled onto themselves, their eyes looking in different directions. A fly buzzed by.

"You don't even have one?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Everyone has Something-Mon cards!"

"What are you, some kind of alien?"

"Even Old Kid has the first set!"

Old Kid stopped counting out his cards on the picnic table. "How's it goin'?" Zim looked around the schoolyard frantically. He pointed at Dib who was peering through some X-ray goggles at a squirrel in the lone tree.

"The Dib monster has no such cards either!" Zim protested. "Surely you must seek to ridicule him as well!"

Dib looked over at the commotion. The children all whipped their heads to look at Dib expectantly.

"What? Something-Mon? That show is lame. I collect paranormal cards!" He pulled his cards out of his pocket. They had pictures of Big Foot, Area 51, vampires, aliens, zombies and other creatures on them.

The kids all looked at each other and shrugged: as usual, Dib was so weird and abnormal! Zim spoke up again.

"What is a Something-Mon card and why must I possess it?"

"Oh man, you've gotta get all the cards, and then if you want to even be considered normal you have to get the action figures to play the game. I have every collectible figure, that's how I know that I'm pretty much the best gamer ever." Iggins bragged. "If you don't have the figures, you won't understand the cards. And if you don't have the cards, you won't understand the show. And if you don't understand the show, how will you be able to play the game? And if you can't play the game, then you won't understand the show. Get it?"

"But I watch no such Something-Rather show. And I have no interest in your pathetic child games. When are you going to start playing with lasers and robots? Call me when you all possess androids with rockets!" Zim walked away from the table.

"But if you don't watch the show, and you don't play the game, no one will ever respect your gaming abilities or even notice you're around!" Iggins warned.

Zim stopped dead in his tracks. No one would notice him? No one would respect him? But what of his amazing plan for world domination? Images of a population obsessed with Something-Mon cards swam through his head. They all bowed down to Something-Mon, while Zim's conquest went unnoticed. Entire cities burned but no one even heard his demands for attention. Something-Mon pointed and laughed at Zim's pathetic attempts to get the hypnotized followers' attention. The bowing multitudes all turned, pointed and laughed at Zim as well. Zim screamed with torturous pain at the thought of being foiled by a cartoon character.

The children all stared again at the bellowing Zim. He realized that he was still in the playground.

"Well, I'm just off to go ask my mother and father for some Earth Monies with which I will purchase some of your stinking Something-Mon game pieces. Farewell, and prepare yourselves for utter and complete annihilation…in the game, that is." Zim took off, leaving a dust cloud behind him.

Back at the base, Zim lounged deep into his control room chair, sipping a tall can of Poop Cola and talked to another Irken on the huge video monitor. 'Planet Callnowia' blinked in green letters at the bottom.

"Yeah, I'll take one of each set of Something-Mon cards, the hat, the backpack, all the action figures, the blanket, the pillow, the lawn ornament, the license plate, and whatever else you have with that loathsome character emblazoned on it."

"Um, Sir, would you be purchasing any robots, weapons, machinery, or invasion tools of any sort today?" asked the confused Irken.

"No, not today, I have much bigger plans today, my friend. Huge plans, indeed!"

"Whatever you want. Please punch in your First Bank of Irk PIN number and sign the keypad to pay for your purchases."

Zim punched in several buttons and signed his name with a flourish.

"Thank you. Your order should be arriving in the morning. Enjoy your new…Something-Mon collection."

Zim stood up on his chair and put a hand to his squeedly spooch. "Oh no, thank you. Your assistance in this venture will surely go down in the Irken history books when they talk of the amazing invasion of the Earth and the inevitable enslavement of its people." Zim laughed a maniacal laugh as the Irken telemarketer shook his head in sympathy for The Tallest. How did this Irken become an invader?

The doorbell rang the next morning, and Zim rushed up the elevator to look at his new purchases. GIR answered the door to a terribly disguised Irken with a clipboard and a huge crate behind him. He was wearing a squirrel on his head for a wig, giant red clown shoes and a polka dot bikini. GIR stood at the door singing a song about crates to Bok, who was about the same height as the little robot.

"Hello Invader Zim! Here is your Callnowia shipment. Please sign here." Zim leaned in and read the small Irken's nametag. He signed the clipboard.

"Thank you, Bok. And might I say, a brilliant human disguise, almost as foolproof as my own." Bok looked down at his clothes. The squirrel suddenly woke up and started scratching Bok's head, trying to free himself from the string holding him on. Bok and Zim both started to scream. Bok ran into the house trying to get the squirrel off. GIR ran after him screaming too, but also laughing. Zim pushed Bok out the door and threw the squirrel off of his head. "Now, back to your ship soldier, and good day!"

"Wait!" yelled Bok, rubbing his scratched head. "They already left!"

"Already left? Without you? Why would they such a thing?" Zim demanded, looking up into the sky.

"Well, they don't actually know I'm here. I sort of stowed away with your crate. You see, I'm your biggest fan!"

"Fan? Huh? What is this?" Zim asked, a mix of confusion, anger and ego.

"I've worked on Planet Callnowia since I flunked out of Invader school. They said I was just like you, so I made it my mission to come to Earth one day to help you conquer the planet! Together, we can prove that we are worthy of being Invaders!" rushed Bok, obviously reciting a practiced speech.

Zim yawned. "Sorry, Kid. I work alone."

"But what about your SIR unit?"

"SIR? Oh you mean GIR. He doesn't count. He mostly just hinders my mission. Stupid robot." GIR looked over, tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh, ok, you're not so bad."

GIR squealed with pleasure and ran around in circles a few times before passing out on the floor.

"So what do you think? Can I stay and help you with your mission?"

"I need no help. Go home! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to Skool to show all those worm babies a thing or two about the wrath of Zim!" He started pushing the crate down the street to Skool. Bok looked in the door at the sleeping GIR. He smiled and went in, shutting the door behind him.

Later that day, Zim came home wearing a Something-Mon hat, backpack and T-shirt, dragging behind him his crate filled with different items.

"GIR! I'm home! Come and see what happened! I traded all the new cards to Iggins for these ones, which he assured me hold much more power. Then we all played the game and all the earth monkey children traded cards with me, and I won GIR! GIR! GIR?" Zim looked around the base. "GIR come here right now! We have much to do!" He tapped his foot. "GIR! Um, I have piggies! And pizza! And is this a taco I have, too?"

Zim's chair turned around, Bok sitting in it. "Hello Zim! You're back!"

"Bok! What are you still doing here? Where is GIR?"

"I'm not sure. He went out. Something about tacos. How was Skool? Did you take it over?"

"Well, no, not today. But tomorrow, oh tomorrow how they will rue the day when I order even more Something-Mon cards, oh how they will…wait, back to why you're still here. I told you to go home. Shoo! Go home!" Zim waved his hand towards the door.

"But Sir, I've made so many improvements to your base today, just let me show you!" Bok started flipping switches and knobs and pressing buttons. The house started to shake and they heard loud banging noises from outside.

"What have you done?" Zim yelled at Bok.

"It's not me! I don't know what's going on!" Bok and Zim ran to the elevator and looked out the front windows. Police cars squealed past, their sirens blaring. The ground continued to shake and they saw mushroom clouds rising from around the city. People ran past the house, screaming. Zim and Bok looked at each other. Suddenly they saw what was chasing the throng: a giant green Something-Mon creature breathing fire out its nostrils and shooting lasers from its paws!

"Sir, you're a genius! You ordered the animated Something-Mon collection! What foresight! What intelligence! What brains! Wow! What an invader!"

"The animated collection?" Bok held out a card to Zim, pointing at the fine print at the bottom. "'Card will come to life one hour after gaming begins. Caution: We're serious! These things are crazy!'"

"These things will clean up the whole town for us in a matter of hours! Brilliant!"

"Bok, stay here and guard the base. I have to go re-trade these cards back!"

"But why? They're doing such a good job!" Bok protested.

"Why? Why? Because that's my job! So unless these cards are doing my bidding, they must be stopped! They're going to take all my glory!" Zim rushed out the door.

Bok walked over to the closet holding Zim's robot father. GIR lay there in two pieces. Bok laughed maniacally, a tinny, nasal version of Zim's own evil cackle. "Just lost your head there, GIR? Feeling a bit light headed? Don't have a good head on your shoulders? You know if your head wasn't screwed on you'd lose it! Looks like you did! Ha, with you out of the way, I can be Zim's new minion and we'll take over this planet together! A team of misfits joined together for one cause: to prove to The Tallest that shorter is better!"

Meanwhile, Zim tried to convince Iggins to trade back his old cards.

"Just give me back the card! Here, I'll give you your old one back!"

"No way, this is too cool! Imagine the battles I'll win at school with my own Autotron Robot Dragon Android! I'll be the most superior gamer!"

"Just give it back! I'll get you a better one!" Zim tried to take the card away from Iggins.

"No dice green boy! Get lost! You traded fair and square!" Iggins ran back inside his house and watched his dragon from the window.

"Stinking human! I'll get that card from you sooner or later! Probably sooner! But for now, later!" Zim ran down the street to the next house.

"Stop right there Zim! Your plan to ruin Earth with your monsters won't be working tonight! No sir! Let me introduce you to my Dad's latest invention: The Membrane Deanimation Laser!" Zim turned around to see Dib standing behind him.

"Don't just stand there insolent fool boy, stop these monsters before they ruin everything!" Zim yelled, pointing at the dragon and other creatures stampeding down the street towards them.

"Wait, you want me to stop them? What's going on? Aren't these yours?"

"Who cares! They're coming! Shoot! Shoot!" Dib looked confused but turned to see the onslaught of fire breathing, laser shooting, charging creatures. He fired up the laser and shot it into the melee. One by one, the creatures fluttered to the ground, turned once again into their card form. Zim and Dib stood together in the shower of cards. "Want to help me gather these up?" Zim asked.

Dib blew the smoke off the laser cannon. "I don't think so," he said. "See ya!" With a dramatic brandishing of his laser, he stalked off into the night.

Zim looked around at the huge pile of cards around him. One by one, he started to pick them up.

Zim arrived home to find Bok asleep beside the closet, GIR still in two pieces. He sneaked around him and put GIR's head back on. GIR hugged him fiercely then ran off to watch TV.

"Bok! Stand at attention soldier!" Bok slowly woke up, rubbing his eyes. He quickly realized what was going on, and stood up, saluting Zim seriously.

"Sir, what will you have me do?"

"Bok, I need you to do an undercover mission for me. You must go to Planet Foodcourtia and find out as much information about Space Meat as you can. I will need all the information you can gather from all ranks. It is very important for my next plan to conquer this planet. Understood?"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant! I will be back in a week!"

"No! Not long enough! You will have only touched the tip of the iceberg! No, if I see you here in anything less than a year, I'll know you haven't gathered even a tiny bit of worthy information that will help me. Now go!"

"But, Sir, I don't have a ship!"

"Oh, leave that to me," said Zim with an evil grin.

Later, Zim aligned crosshairs onto Planet Foodcourtia down on the screen in the control room. He hit the button marked Launch, and Bok flew out of a cannon set up on the roof. His screams echoed out into the night, but GIR didn't even notice as he enjoyed a huge drippy taco. He even ate the note that came with it that said, "Love, Zim."

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