I don't own anything... the one who does is rich and famous...
INTRO: Zim finds a new way to destroy the earth... the strange and obscure stink monkey's pastime of music...
"And the crowd is going wild for this years Glastonbury festival, and what a festival this is! The line up includes some of the best figures in..."
Zim heard the british accent of the T.V in the front room as he slammed the door behind him. Gir was sat in front of it, his enormous eyes transfixed by the image on the screen. Zim growled, and lifted his arm, only to bring it down again as pain sweeped his elbow.
"Gah... stupid Dib... how dare he mark the skin of Ziiiim..." He placed a hand on his wig and threw it across the room. He flopped down on the settee in his usual drama queen way and groaned. Just as he was taking his contacts oh so very gently, he heard a shrill electronic voice squeal, causing him to poke himself in the eye.
"I LOVE THIS SONG!" GIR screeched, drowning out his masters cries of pain as T- Rex made their way onto the stage. "SQUEEEEEEE!"
"GIR! Why you useless pile of scrap metal! I should gouge your circuitry out with forks and make them into... erm... er... fondue!"
"Dun, dun duh duuuuuun..." Gir danced around, his cyan eyes screwed up into happy little triangles, mimiking the guitar riffs extremely well.
"Er... GIR?"
"Dun dun dwow nun DEOOOOOOWW!" Gir squealed stupidly, ignoring Zims increasingly irked voice.
"NOW, GIR! Oh, forget it. I have higher things to busy my time with than foolishly leaping around like a lunatic,"
GIR watched his master leave the room, and continued watching the telly.The band of rockers had just finished and were getting ready to start up again. The leader leaned forward, put his lips to the microphone, and screamed.
"LET ME HEAR YOU SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEM!" The crowd, including GIR, happily obliged, and went ballistic. He screamed and screamed along with the british audience, until Zim burst in, his eyes burning in red hot irritation.
"GIR! Thats it, FEAR MY FONDUE!" He went to grab GIR, but then heard something on the screen that caught his ears.
"WHO DO YOU LOVE?" Mark Bolan Yelled into the microphone.
"T REX! T REX! TREX!" The crowd ecstatically yelled back, with GIR happily obliging. Zim watched the figures on the screen, each and every one with their eyes watching the stage as if hypnotised by the man on the stage. There was one girl with blonde hair and a tartan skirt on at the front, and she was taking her bra off, which was promptly thrown onto the stage, landing at this "Mark Bolan's" foot. He picked it up, and tied it onto the microphone.
"This man... why does he have power? The earth monkeys are listening to his every word, his every movement is practically idolized by them, their even giving him gifts that they are powerless without. But why? What has he got that I haven't got?"
"He has hair, master!" GIR smiled.
"Shut up GIR... I have research to do... defend the fortress,"
"TACOS!"
Zim stood at the OTT size screen. "COMPUTER! Scan for this Mark Bolan stink human,"
"Oh... why?"
"Because i ordered you to! Obey Ziiiiiin..."
After a breif few seconds, some writing came up on the screen.
"Yes... blahblahblah... T Rex... yadda yadda... but it's not telling me why! It says here he is famous... why though? Music? Computer, scan for music!"
A new information screen came up. Zim scanned it, and at the end, Zim grinned.
"It says here music is an enourmous part of human life... and the music is put into songs that relay messages through their lyrics! Oh... yes... perfect... MWAHAHAHAHA! Tomorrow I shall make music... I SHALL MAKE THIS DIRT BALL MOOOOOOOVE!"
"But how will you make music, master?" Gir came up behind, licking an ice cream.
"GAH! Where'd you come from? Nevermind... aha! Music utensils!" Zim ordered and pictures of guitars, drums and saxophones came up.
"So many to choose... so many weapons to destroy with!"
"With this music utensil, I shall make music that will shake the earth!" Zim boasted to a little boy with ginger hair in the skool's playground.
"Dude... whats with the triangle?"