By animeninjaNIPPON
Woo-hoo! I thought I wouldn't do anymore ZADRs or after Irken Catnip… apparently, I was wrong. Good or bad, you decide… Well, this is my first sci-fi fic. For some bizarre reason, this story is heavy on references to the Vol.3 of the DVDs. Also, there are many strange paradoxes in this story, seeing as it deals with time travel. Naturally, I'm not Jhonen Vasquez, I don't own Invader Zim, and I can't make the characters 100 percent IC all of the time. But I can pretend, can't I?
Every day was the same for Dib – people at skool either ignored him or called him crazy, his sister treated him like dirt, his father never seemed to listen to a word he said…
At least, that's how it was until Zim arrived. Then all that stuff happened along with the stressful (and sometimes dangerous) battles, the endless stream of insults, and all the other grief the little green guy had to offer. Dib grew more and more weary with each passing week. Finally, a whole year had passed since Zim first landed on Earth.
"It's been exactly one year, two days, and seventeen hours since Zim came here," Dib said aloud to himself as he wrote down his exact words in his detailed notebook he dubbed "the Zim Files." "And so far, I've been able to stop each and every one of his attempts at world domination." He paused thoughtfully for a moment, then continued to write silently: I've also come to the conclusion that Zim is more of a lime green, as opposed to mint as I previously predicted. After signing his entry with the pen name "Vira Mindez" (to fool anyone who might steal his notebook and read it), he went to his computer to type up that day's analysis. About six months earlier, Gaz went to his computer and erased his previous "Zim Files" in retaliation for cursing her with the inability to taste anything but pigs (as though cleaning out that toilet wasn't bad enough), so since then he wrote his logs out by hand before typing them and saving them on backup disks. He would have printed out copies as well, had it not been for Zim's annoying SIR unit using his only means of electronic duplication as a bowling pin…
If Dib really wanted to document every terrible thing that happened to him, he would need a second lifetime and a whole lot of painkillers to reduce serious carpal tunnel problems. Therefore, he concentrated solely on the things Zim himself did – where the alien went, what size boots he wore, even the number of burnt rubber piggies Gir threw away. Some might call the amber-eyed human insane…
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"
Dib perked up. "I'd know that voice anywhere…" Furrowing his brow in irritation, he went outside to see Zim standing behind two stereo speakers, wielding what appeared to be a blue electric guitar.
"TODAY you will meet your DOOM, DIB-BUH," he snarled contemptuously.
"YEE-HAW!" Gir added, swinging the cord of a microphone like a lasso.
"Zim, that's…an amplifier," Dib stated casually.
"WRONG, STINKBEAST!" Zim struck a chord on his guitar, causing the surrounding area to rumble. Strangely, no houses were falling down. "Eh?"
It wasn't a total loss for Zim, though – when he looked down, he saw Dib convulsing and vomiting on the ground.
"W-Whuh…" Dib stuttered, trying desperately to get back on his feet. Apparently, the sound waves tampered with his central nervous system.
"Now I will DESTROY you! Then, I will FINALLY taste sweet VICTORY!" He cackled maniacally once again, and Dib took advantage of his enemy's hysteria to grab the microphone Gir had dropped and hit Zim in the head with it.
"Not if I can help it!" yelled Dib, swinging the mic by its cord.
Zim narrowed his scarlet eyes and raised his gloved hand, bringing it down against the guitar strings as hard as he could.
End of part one