The Tallest Gene

Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim. I do own the funniness of this fic tho.

Running down the stairs, past a grumbling Gaz still wearing her thumbs out on another Vampire Piggy Hunter game, past his dad who was shouting for Dib to come back at once, but Dib paid the man no attention. He had to go, to stop Zim.

Lights were flickering constantly overhead as the entire world's entire energy supply was being vacuumed into the alien's base. Whirling past the running boy were dozens of police carrs, APCs, and even helicopters. Neighbors and other civilians stepped out into the warm night that was getting hotter as Summer break neared closer and closer. Skidding across the sidewalk and around the corner, Dib Membrane came upon a scene that he could have only imagined in his worst fears come true far back when Zim was truly an insignificant threat. Military tents and large heavy barricades with sandbags surrounded the entire section of the neighborhood. Tanks, attack airships, soldiers with rifles and artillery pieces had been placed. Their sights were all centered on that eccentricly built house. As far as Dib could see, the house appeared to be empty. There were no lights, no movement. Nothing to suggest, despite the oddness of the house itself, that the world's supply of power was being drained into that single household. Looking around as civilians were herded away hurriedly, as a long column of heavy tanks rolled by, he saw a black van with a white patterned logo of the Network pull into the checkpoint where he stood.

"Oi! No civilians here," shouted a soldier to Dib, "Go home!"

"I'm with the Eyeball Network-" Started Dib, only to be halted by a heavy glove falling to his shoulder.

Looking up, the boy's eyes widened as he was pushed away by the leader of a group of soldiers just recently deposited off a Chinook. They were all heavily armed, dressed in Special operations uniforms and were making their way to Zim's fake house. Dib yelled out for them to stop, but was forcibly silences as they entered the home, weapons raised. Behind Dib, a thin man in a gray suit and blue tie watched calmly, a fat cigar in his meaty hand, an aide with folder, and two soldiers standing nervously next to him.

"You there, boy," he barked in an obvious southern texan accent, "Yes, you!"

Dib turned around, his hands tightening on his alien-hybrid laptop slightly, narrowed his eyes, "What do you want?"

The soldier's eyes hardened as they moved threateningly, but the cigar-wielding man raised a hand and walked to Dib, his shades obscuring his eyes.

"I am the head honcho of this operation. Intel says you know more about this whole mess than the rest us," grunted the man, "That right?"

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Colonel Hank," he replied.

Dib stiffened as to harden his resolve and nodded, "I've broke into Zim's base dozens of times. I have samples of his technology and reversed engineers some of it-"

"-Which your father used to create some of the newer applications in military technology," replied the Colonel dismissively, "Fact remains, you're the sole human being with an idea what this alien is capable of. So tell me. What do you think a thirty-man team against this Zim can do?"

"I pity those men," sighed Dib.

"What was that?!" Growled one of the soldiers.

"Let me just say this, Colonel," said Dib, his eyes cold behind his glasses.

Colonel Hank shushed his bodyguards and nodded, "What?"

"They're all dead. You've done nothing more than produce of thirty pieces of meat."

- - - - -

Zim's Base, Upper Levels

"Tango Leader, I see no contacts. I am advancing to next corridor," muttered a Spec Ops soldier as he cautiously advanced down the pink, red, and purple hall way. Getting through the fake house's defenses were easy, navigating the lower levels of this place was even harder. The elevator that was hidden behind the couch, misplaced toilet, and trashcans brought them all to a holding area where computer consoles with flickering screens and mismatched lit corridors were the dominant scene. The place was eerily quiet, with only the sounds of their weapons being shifted here and there being made. A soldier held up his hand as they neared the end of the hall, which branched off into three more corridors. With a Fiber-Optic linked up to his headset, he could see around the corner. The two hallways led to a door with red lights, possibly locked. The last hallway showed a small figure scratching it head before moving towards them.

"Tango Leader, we have contact. Permission to engage?"

"Permission granted Tango Four."

Through the fiber-optic, bright cyan eyes eyes the size of a plate blinked and turned red.

Fifteen soldiers sprang from behind their corner of the wall and opened fire with 7.62x51mm NATO rounds from multiple LWRC SRT Automatic Rifles. Sparks erupted from the small figure, whose metal body was illuminated from the gunfire, it's cackling mouth wide open as a bright red burst of light struck a man. The fire slowed for a moment as robot and Spec Ops soldiers glanced, horrified, at their fallen comrade.

Robert Grant, 34, of the Elite Special Forces 4th Task Force, looked down eyes glazing over at the cauterized stump of his right arm before keeling over in a dead faint. Another burst of red light shot out of the laughing robot and struck the poor man in the chest, killing him and spreading the smell of cooked meat all over the place. Still laughing, the machine watched as the group scattered, firing bursts from behind their corner, a few bold enough to run towards him, as they unloaded their magazines into him. Arms splitting, GIR revealed two wrist-guns and began firing indiscriminatly from his position. Pouring shot into one human, he paused for a breath before laughing again, expelling a copious amount of steam before firing another laser into the group.

It missed and struck a wall, leaving a melting hole. Someone brought out an M4 Carbine and fired a shot with it's underslung 40mm Grenade Launcher right into Gir's wide screaming mouth.

The explosion sent a spread of smoke and fire everywhere, forcing the troops back, with only the dogtags of their fallen comrades in hand.

"Tango Team! What the hell is going on in there?!"

"Encountered a contact, sir! It's armed with DEWs! We're pulling out," said a shaken soldier, "Three dead, sir and...holy..."

"Heheheeheeahahahahee!" Cackled an undamaged GIR as it stepped out of the smoke, it's large head nearly split in half with a wide mouth full of sizzling weapons. his little body was impossibly full of heavy ordnance. hands completely covered in wrist guns, rocket launchers, lasers waiting to be unleashed.

"Withdraw! Withdraw!"

"Headquarters! HEADQUARTERS! This is the Infiltration Unit Commander-!"

"I love this show!" Squeaked Gir as it mentally pulled the trigger on all it's weapons.

Carnage never before seen struck down seven soldiers with one devastating explosion as walls melted, computer consoles were blasted apart, bodies vaporized. Tango team was down to a few men, and with the arrival of Sierra Team brought both reinforcements and a new toy.

A glowing missile struck another soldier, vaporizing his body, two more soldiers, and the alien alloy they were standing on. What few men raised their weapons and fired once more into the little robot. Unlike the previous attack, this one came in the form of hot blue bolts of plasma. The smoke cleared, revealing six men and women, holding heavy rifles with cords attached to a heavy liquid gas-cooled backpack. The first volley cascaded into GIR, leaving small pits in his body. The second volley pushed him back again and again. His little antenae squealed and created a dome-like shield over the robot, shielding it from any further attack. Then he ran towards them, weapons sliding back into his body as his arms seemed to blur right before his shield deactivated. The robot plowed into the stunned and disorientated soldiers like a Tyranasourus Rex in a Glass Shop. Body parts flew everywhere, heads rolled, partitioned necks gushed fountains of blood thirty feet into the air.

Finally, everything stopped.

"Chzzz...Comma...mander? Commander! Whe...Chzzz...happening?"

Curiously, Gir bent down to pick up a burnt human hand, still clutching the headset as the operator on the other side tried to get a hold of the now dismembered Unit Commander.

"Hellooooo?"

"Who is this? You aren't the Unit Commander!" Squawked the Operator on the headset, "Indentify youself at once!"

"Byeeeeee!"

Cranking open his mouth, GIR swallowed the hand, headset and all. With a smile, despite covered in gore and human fluids, he hugged himself.

"I love Earth!"

First battle done!