DISCLAIMER: I, most unfortunately, do not own the rights to Invader ZIM. I wish I did. If I did, we would still have new episodes instead of Nick being stupid cash cows
Now, for some background. This ficclet explains how bloody GIR came to be. I'm sure we've all seen that picture. If you haven't, just google images for 'bloody GIR'. Now, without further ado, I bring to you
THE ORIGIN OF BLOODY GIR
"GIR!! More waffles!" Zim yelled from the table. He had recently become rather addicted to these human foods called waffles.
"Okie-dokie!!" GIR screamed and tossed more waffles on Zim's plate.
"GIR! What is this red jelly-substance on my waffles?" Zim poked at the red substance with his fork. It smelled slightly acidic, was red, and tasted funny.
"KETCHUPPP!!!!!!" Yep, that was GIR.
"What is ketchup?" Zim asked slowly. Poison, maybe? No, GIR wouldn't try to poison him, Zim…would he? Nah.
"Uh…I dunno…That boy eats it. The one who's always with you…uh…Dib." GIR grinned.
"Yes…Dib and those puny stink worm babies eat this….don't they?" Zim said, taking another bite of his ketchup-laden waffles. "These are good."
"Mhmmm." GIR agreed.
"These are really good!" And with that, Zim began eating even quicker. "More KETCHUP!!!! I need more ketchup!!" the Irken Invader yelled, snatching the ketchup bottle from GIR's hands.
"My...ketchup…" the robot looked about ready to cry.
"Oh fine. Keep your ketchup." Zim sighed, relinquishing the ketchup bottle the GIR. "Be careful with it. I am going to eat more ketchup-waffles in the morning."
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That night
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"Zzzzz…"Zim snored loudly, when a small childlike figure peeked into Zim's bedroom.
"Master?" GIR said softly
"Zzz-huh? What is it GIR?" he looked up drowsily. GIR was in 'duty mode' and was covered in what looked like blood. "What did you do, GIR?!?!"
"I….spilt the ketchup…"
FIN
Well, this came along when I was looking at a picture of the infamous 'bloody GIR' and I was wondering how GIR got bloody and this little ficclet popped into my mind. This is my first ZIM fic and I tried to stay in character.
Please, no flames. I love good reviews and constructive criticism. I know there's placed I can improve, and I would love help with that. So, uh…I guess all that's left is to press that blue button down there and
R&R, you Earthinoids. You'll get a cookie. And if I like you, I'll talk to my tallest about getting you a sandwich.