I'm baaaaaaaaaack! I promise I'll put in more cheese and space battles! At some point! BUT NOW! Things are beginning to happen in this story! SUCH MARVELOUS THINGS!
Disclaimer: I tried tying him up in my basement, but I still fail to own Invader Zim.
Disclaimer to the Disclaimer: No adorable little green aliens were harmed in the making of this fan fiction. Yet.
Chapter Seven: Intergalactic Trolling for Beginners
"Got any fours?"
"Huh? No."
"You're supposed to say 'go fish'."
"Oh. Go fish. Eh... what IS a fish?"
"I dunno."
"Hey guys. What're you doing?" Tallest Purple asked the prisoners.
"Meh. Playing some game," Spleenk said, bored.
"Are we there yet?" aske Shlooktapooxis.
"Mm... no. We have a few hours," Purple checked the maps, "Yep. We'll be there, soon, though."
"This is so BORING!" Shloonktapooxis whined, "Why can't we just cut to something more INTERESTING? Where things are HAPPENING?"
"Hmm... now that you say it..." Purple said, "Let's see here..."
"What?" Spleenk raised an eyebrow.
Purple grinned "Ah! Here we go! BING!"
Jhonen needed coffee. The last cup was waiting... oh, how he wanted that coffee. Bitter, smooth, dark coffee. Slightly hallucinogenic drink of the gods... quite literally, in this case. He could not resist the call of that hallowed drink. He got up and went into the kitchen. Dark, epic Lord of the Rings music played as he FIRMLY GRASPED the mug. Slowly he put it to his lips. Then, he was all like "What the heck" and downed the whole thing in one gulp.
"Time for some serious communing," he said, wiping away his coffee mustache. He felt the world melting away around him. Yesss... coffee... ahahahahahahaaaa...
"NOW, Dib! YOU WILL REGRET EVER HAVING MESSED WITH ZIM!" Zim said dramatically. Wait... we should back up a bit. WHY exactly, is Dib tied to GIR, being slowly lowered into a pot of boiling oil? How did this strangely stereotypical happening come to be?
You really don't give a crap, do you?
Let's just say it had to do with an epic battle that lasted thirty seconds, half a grilled cheese sandwich, and a REALLY annoying pop song.
"GIR, that song was too much! It most certainly is NOT Friday, and we will not be 'getting down'! I must DESTROY YOU BOTH!" Zim cackled evilly. Dib struggled against his bonds, but it was ALL IN VAIN! Because, pretty soon after that, there was a bright flash of light and our favorite artist, the Coolest, Awesomest, Scariest guy you'll ever meet appeared.
"We finally meet," Jhonen Vasquez smiled, "I guess that's pretty cool. Hey, guys, I'm Jhonen. I'm here for a bit of... DIVINE INTERVENTION!"
Suddenly, GIR and Dib were free and standing safely behind God. Zim screamed in fury.
"WHY do you do this to MEEE?" Zim wailed.
"Aw, man, Zim," Jhonen laughed, "You're so annoying!"
"Zim is not annoying!"
"Yes you are- wait, no, not getting stuck in that again," Jhonen said.
"Wait a minute!" Dib said, "You're... you're Jhonen Vasquez!"
"Sure, Dib," Jhonen said.
"You wrote Johnny the Homicidal Maniac! Man, I love that comic!" Dib grinned, "Can I have your autograph?"
"I'll do better than that," Jhonen grinned, "You always wanted to ride a moose, right?"
"Oh, yeah!"
"Me too! Let's go!" Jhonen laughed, running out the door. Dib followed his hero happily, leaving his rival and the insane robot behind.
"What just happened?" GIR asked, "HUH? HUH?"
"I think..." Zim said uncertainly, "We were just 'trolled'."
"OH HO HO..." the Fangirl grinned evilly, her eyes narrowed into the blinding glow of her laptop, "YESSS..."
"What are you doing?" asked Lard Nar.
"Getting my revenge," she explained, "As long as Jhonen is in this Universe, I can control him through the awesome powers of my fanon. I'm writing Jhonen/Dib... AND IT IS GOOOOOOOOD!"
"I don't think that's good at all," Tak said, returning with a bag of chips, "You're a horrible writer! I mean, I want to like your character because she's not a complete and absolute douche like so many Invader Zim protagonists are... seriously, there's like, no good guys."
(A/N: I forgot to thank ngrey651 for informing me that Lak Shmi is indeed not a feminine hygiene product! I never knew...)
"Zim is good! Dib's good!"
"Zim's genocidal, Dib's needlessly sadistic, need I say more?" Tak folded her arms, "I mean, I'm all for genocide and sadism, but really-"
"Jhonen's good, Gaz's good, Lard Nar's good..." the Fangirl counted off on her fingers.
"What the heck? Jhonen's just... and Gaz is... Lard Nar, well, I guess he counts as..."
"Gaz and Zim together are good, Zim and Dib together are good..." the Fangirl said dreamily, "You're the only bad one here, Tak."
"OH MY GOD," Tak shouted, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
"Umm... ladies?" Lard Nar said, "Shouldn't we be doing something to... I don't know, prevent space-time from cracking any more than it already has?"
"Shut up, Nar, this is girl talk," the Fangirl hissed. Lard Nar was incredibly offended. How rude!
"Listen, kid, you think you're so smart, you're all 'Look at me! I control the universe!' and I'm SICK OF IT. We're going to do a true battle now. An awesome battle, with sick burns and doom and flaming piles of SHEER DOOKIE!" Tak shouted dramatically.
"So that's how you want it," the Fangirl said. She opened her backpack, and with a flourish, cloaked herself in the GIR Jacket of Fandom, "It's on."
"A BATTLE OF FANON VERSUS CANON!" Tak declared, "ALIGN YOURSELVES, FOOLS!"
As if some sort of cosmic event caused her words to be heard in an entirely different Universe, Invader Zim fools across the other Earth decided to choose once and for all: the shipping madness of Fanon, or the dark sarcasm of Canon. What occurred next was known as the Fanon vs. Canon Troll War of DOOM! 4chan, Tumblr, Twitter, and Facebook were overrun with meaningless, ungrammatical notes swearing allegiance to one side or the other. Memes were made. Blogs were posted. An article was written by a very confused reporter for the New York Times.
Nickelodeon considered bringing the show back.
"Hey, Jim... remember that show? The one with the insane fandom? Zid... was it?"
"Yeah, sure. It's all the rage with the teens and college kids."
"Maybe we should... you know, make a few more episodes?"
"Naw. Too much work. Let's make another Dora spinoff."
"Considered" is the key word, here.
Meanwhile, back on the other Universe Earth...
"So, I was all like: 'You wanna piece of this?' and he was all like, 'Oh god, space girl with a gun, SPACE GIRL WITH A GUN,' and I like, set the thing to stun and shot the creep across the room. That was the most awesome moment of my life," Lak Shmi finished.
"Not that your weird resistance exposition isn't fascinating, but YOU'RE ANNOYING THE HECK OUT OF ME. SHUT. UP," Gaz hissed. It stinks when you're being trailed to school by a ghost.
"Sorry," Lak Shmi said with a sigh, "It's just, I never get to tell anyone anything cool like that."
"Maybe that's because you're the most uncool alien nerd girl ever born?" Gaz said, rolling her eyes, "I mean, seriously, Lak Shmi, you HAVE ASTIGMATISM."
"What's that? OW!" she bumped into a lamppost.
"What happened to your bizarre goggles?"
"I traded them. For the wig."
"Oh my god... you traded them for the tacky 60's wig?"
"Your numerical system means nothing to me," Lak Shmi huffed, "And the trade was necessary. It's not like that dull salesgirl could have done anything important with them."
"You do know that when you say that, it means she's ascended to god tier and will become an impossibly powerful villainess in a couple chapters, right?" Gaz asked.
"Um... what?"
"I'm just using my genre savviness," the girl said with a dry laugh, "Don't take that seriously."
"Oh ho ho..." the dull salesgirl chuckled. These were clearly no ordinary cosplay goggles. She fiddled with one of the dials.
ASCEND TO GOD TIER? Y/N
Well, the answer to that was obvious. She selected Y.
PROCESSING...
LOADING...
GENERATING AWESOME ANIME HEROINE OUTFIT...
COMPLETE. PREPARE TO ASCEND...
"Yesssssss," the girl said. She slumped forward at her table. Soon, she would be the most powerful deity ever.
More powerful than Jhonen, even.
Her name was the Producer.
"That was really interesting!" Spleenk said excitedly, "Thanks for showing us those very important plot points!"
"You are very welcome," Tallest Purple grinned, "Hey, Red, are we there yet?"
"Almost," said his co-Tallest, "Only a couple more minutes..."
"Oh boy! I can't WAIT!" Shloonktapooxis shrieked.
"Once you meet Zim, you'll regret saying that," Red predicted dourly.
"Ugh... Zim... He deserved to be trolled by that little girl..." Purple said.
"Purple, you should stop being so mean to Zim!" Red reprimanded.
"Why?"
"Because... I love him."
A shocked silence.
Suddenly, Almighty Tallest Red burst out laughing, "TROOOOOOOLLED!"
Everyone enjoyed several minutes of awkward giggles, until someone pointed out that Earth was very near and shouldn't we be landing soon?
"WHEE!" Dib cried as the moose gallivanted around its pen. Jhonen and he had enjoyed many moose races at Moose Park.
"This is impossibly fun," Mr. Vasquez said.
"Yeah!" Dib grinned, slowing his moose to a stop, "Wait- you saw Zim... out of his disguise! You... you know...?"
"Dib, I'm God. I know everything," Jhonen rolled his eyes.
"The guy who wrote JtHM is God. No wonder the world is so messed up..." Dib trailed off in thought, "Never mind that! Having God on my side had GOT to get me some credibility! Come on! We have to expose Zim's organs!"
"As much as I'd absolutely love to manifest a good old-fashioned dissection, I'm afraid I can't do that. There's a fine, fine literary balance going on here," Jhonen said.
"Forget literature! This is the FATE OF THE WORLD!" Dib cried.
"That's basically the same thing," Jhonen tried to explain, "If the plot line leans too far in favor of one of you over the other, KABLOOEY! There goes reality!"
"B-but!" Dib whined, "Organs! COME ON!"
"Organs..." Jhonen grinned maniacally, "Who am I kidding? Come on, little boy, let's go be as morbid as absolutely possible."
"YES!" Dib pumped a fist in the air, "FINALLY!"
Jhonen grabbed the boy's arm and made a mad dash toward Zim's lab. They didn't have a plan. They didn't have a motive. IT WAS FOOLPROOF.
"What's a darkfic?" asked Lard Nar skeptically.
"I'm sorry, Nar, but you are so obnoxious sometime," the Fangirl sighed, "Can't you see Tak and I are working out our differences?"
"You shut up, Fangirl," Tak grunted, typing frantically, "With this awesome darkfic I can strategically RUIN ZIM'S LIFE!"
"I really don't understand," Lard Nar looked from the Fangirl's romantic, pedophiliac script, to Tak's dark and gory one, "How you are going to make this work."
"Oh my god, Lard Nar, SHUT UP," the Fangirl said, adding her idea of a lemon to a paragraph. The Vortian recoiled in disgusted horror at the creepiness.
"Yeah, Lard Nar, can't you see we're trying to write?" Tak glared at him.
"But..." he shook his head, "But... this isn't writing! It's... it's perverted evil!"
"It's called your life, Lardy," the Fangirl rolled her eyes, "So who do you want to end up with?"
Oh.
My.
God.
Creepy-ometer maxed out. Rebooting...
Rebooting...
Processing...
Done.
"WHAT!? WHAT!? YOU'RE... YOU'RE WRITING ABOUT ME!?" he gagged and and started to sob a little, "No... NO! THAT'S NOT ALLOWED!"
"... 'Lard Nar gets Stockholm's Syndrome and falls deeply in love with Almighty Tallest Red' ," she suggested. Lard Nar only made incoherent noises in reply.
"I vote for unethical experiments on both of you," Tak typed in.
"Oh yeah? Well, Zim calls you in a last, desperate attempt for help... AND YOU CONFESS YOUR UNDYING LOVE!"
"You wouldn't!"
"I'm writing it down..."
"No! Anything but that... FINE! I'll erase the part about the experiments!"
They continued to indirectly influence their friends and frienemies' lives, while Lard Nar whimpered softly in a corner, trying to un-see horrible mental images.
"Please... if there's someone they can't control... get me out of here..." he murmured.
The Producer awakened, and immediately noticed that the situation was getting out of control. She ran a hand through her snow-white hair, and blinked her large, pale blue eyes.
She was perfect. But she was not bent on finding love or wealth. She wanted complete and total control over every detail of the story that was unfolding around her. She would take it from the meddlesome girl and the violet eyed woman, she would take it from the bespectacled artist who called himself 'God', and she would take it from the thousands who read the story from behind the Fourth Wall.
She would make it hers.
I really enjoy freaking Lard Nar out, for some reason. There are probably 50 schmillion mistakes in here because I didn't have time to edit this very well! I hope you enjoyed it, anyways.