Zim walked right by the Professor, waving his hand back-and-forth in a dismissive fashion while not even bothering to look at the old man.
"I parked it outside," he said matter-of factly. "It's fine!"
"You parked it?" stammered the Professor, now almost beside himself with fury. "Who the hell let you drive?"
"The captain was incapacitated, and so naturally I assumed command," retorted Zim, as if the Professor should have assumed that course of action.
By now Zim had made it to the table at the far end of the Planet Express landing bay and was scanning its contents. All that effort had made Zim hungry. He couldn't stand human food back in the 21st century, but for some reason the 30th century fare hadn't been so menacing. Less filth, he surmised. He had sampled a crumb here and there, but now he felt he wanted a little more. He looked and looked until finally his violet-hued eyes dilated as they fixated upon - a waffle.
Gir had made him waffles once, albeit out of unorthodox ingredients; still, Zim had actually liked them. In fact, he thought he had seen Gir making this particular batch earlier today, and Zim figured he'd at least give them a try.
Zim reached out and picked up the nearest waffle, then tore half of it away with his peg teeth. He chewed and swallowed, swallowed and chewed.
"Mmmm," he mouthed, obviously enjoying himself. "Mmmm, snack!"
"Where the hell's my ship, Zim?" repeated the Professor far behind him, the aged scientist now shaking his fists at his newest employee.
"Iss inna scween owtsyde," mumbled Zim over his shoulder, a generous helpful of waffles still filling his mouth.
"What?" shouted the Professor again, a bit hard of hearing at a century-and-a-half old.
"He said it's in a screen outside," corrected Fry, who had more than enough experience talking with his own mouth full, as he walked in. He had a perturbed look on his face as he braced Leela with his left arm and walked her over to the conference table before sitting her down as gently as he could.
"Thanks, Fry," said Leela as sweetly as she could, even though she was still a bit groggy from the incidents aboard the ship. She smiled up at him, and Fry smiled down on her, happy he could help the girl of his dreams; then he looked up at Zim and scowled.
"This guy is a menace, Professor!" shouted Fry as he pointed at Zim at the far end of the bay, just as Hermes walked into the room. "Zim shot up Mr. Blob, flew the ship like crazy, and probably gave Leela a concussion, too!"
"What about Mr. Blob?" asked Hermes a tad fearfully, still smarting from the beating he and the Professor had received at Blob's pseudopodia all those months ago. Hermes shivered a little bit, remembering all the weeks he had then spent inside a full body cast.
"Yes, pray tell what about our old friend, Mr. Blob?" inquired the Professor, shifting from angry and cantankerous to doting and anxious in the span of seconds.
"Zim shot him with a laser - thingy - and burned half of him off!" spat Fry, still pointing and scowling at Zim, who kept right on cramming waffle into his gullet. Obviously Zim hadn't shot that much of Blob off, but Fry was too angry to fawn over the details.
Hermes and the Professor both looked blankly at Fry, turned to look at one another, and then bust out laughing at their old nemesis' fate. Fry, though, was still pointing at Zim, and now Leela was scowling at Zim as well.
"He IS dangerous, Professor!" she stated, a bruise the color of her hair situated just off to the right of her eye. "Zim shot up a customer, he conked me in the head, and to top it all off left the ship stuck outside! Lord only knows what he'll do next!"
"I did NOT 'conk' you," retorted Zim as he spun about indignantly, his mouth finally free of waffles. "I merely offered the one-eyed female a drink, and she lost her balance and hit her head! Luckily I was there to steer the ship to safety!"
"You little jerk!" shouted Leela. "You sprayed me in the face and knocked me out, and then you flew the ship so crazily that you could have gotten us all killed!"
"Weren't you un-con-scious while I was expertly piloting the ves-sel?" shot back Zim, pointing at Leela like an admonishing attorney grilling a witness in court.
"Ooooo!" she managed to get out before spinning away in her seat, knowing this argument was hopeless, and just not wanting to look at Zim anymore.
"I thought so," said Zim, smiling with his eyes closed, before turning away and climbing up onto the worktable and lying down on it. He hadn't really been paying rapt attention to anyone else's criticisms - certainly not Fry's - and had decided it was time for an impromptu nap. Piloting a starship like he did was tiring work.
"Grrrr," managed Fry, not able to think of anything else to say in his anger as Zim began to doze off.
"Hey bub, what's all the hub-bub?" intoned Bender as he finally made his way back to headquarters. He had stayed behind to finish off a few beers before contacting the city's public works division and informing them they should probably try to salvage the Planet Express ship.
Fry didn't even look at Bender, but just kept staring hatefully at Zim.
"I am so mad at Zim right now, Bender" he started, "that I ..."
"Well, that's nice," said Bender without any pretense of interest, and then he proceeded to walk towards the Professor, who was still giggling along with Hermes about Mr. Blob's misfortune.
"By the way, Professor, here's the bill from the city for getting the ship down," said Bender, as he handed his employer a folded piece of paper. The Professor opened it up and nearly choked when he saw the numerical figures within.
"Gaahh!" the Professor managed to blurt out. "150,000 quatloos to return the ship? I don't have that kind of money!"
"Naw, that's just the cost of removing it from that screen and getting it on the ground," corrected Bender as he lit up a cigar. "Towing it back here is gonna be extra."
The Professor began to turn a shade of red that almost matched Dr. Zoidberg's skin color. Hermes patted his friend's back and tried to calm him down before the Professor suffered a stroke.
"Oh well," remarked Bender, back to concentrating on himself. "Hey Fry, I was thinking that to save on rent, maybe we could have Zim and Gir move in with us!"
Fry's eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
"What!" he stammered, turning to look at his mechanical friend. "Bender, you can't be serious!"
"Sure I can," replied Bender. "Think about it, Fry - we'd cut our rent in half and have more bucks for booze and stuff! Lord knows you got more than enough room in your closet!"
Gir, dressed as a green dog again, had made his way back with Amy by now and had overheard Bender's proposal.
"You got a TV?" he queried the bigger bot.
"A big TV, little guy," promised Bender. "A big TV!"
"Wowwww," said Gir dreamily, musing on how much bigger televisions were in the 30th century.
"No way, Bender!" snapped Fry. "You don't even like Zim!"
"Well, not at first," admitted Bender, taking a puff on his cigar. "But after seeing him take out Blob like that, I gotta say the kid's got style!"
Zim made no response. He was fast asleep, like a newborn Irken smeet, on the table in back.
"No, Bender!" protested Fry again. "No way! Sorry, but I'm putting my foot down!"
And so Fry did - and then his foot went right through the floor, and he sank all the way down to his thigh. Apparently the Planet Express place needed some repairs.
"Oooowww!" Fry cried out while trying to pull himself out, with no luck.
"Damn it!" shouted the Professor, shaking his fists again. "I don't have money for that, either!"
The Professor looked like he was about to explode - or fall asleep. He had been known to do both in the past, but this time his angry blood got the best of him.
"That does it!" he added, looking over to the spot where Zim was snoring contentedly. "Zim has got to go!"
TBC
