Hello everybody this is Sakiko!
Yeah, okay new update, sorry if this one sucks, this thing is mostly a filler, soooo yeah, anyways sorry if it took me so long, I have other stories too you know and I have been volunteering at a library recently, soooo yeah.
Anyways, enjoy the update and I hope ya'll prosper.
Zim: why do you say that?
I don't know Zim.
Chapter 5
The Amazing Chicken Foot.
"Zim," said purple shutting the refrigerator door, "why don't you go visit down stairs? I'm sure those actors would love to hear about your dream," said Purple with a roll of his eyes.
"Mrs. Bitters and Mr. Rankle?"Asked Zim, dropping his spoon into his cereal, "But you said their dingbats!" he said smacking his forehead for emphasis.
"Mmhmm," Purple gave Zim a look and disappeared down the hall, heading for his study.
Great, now he had to visit the crazy old neighbors from down stairs. Why couldn't he just stay in the incredible dream?
Why? Darn it why?
Whatever, he can do that later. Although he did promise a card game to Mr. Rankle…Great.
Zim walked, well more like stamped, up the stairs ignoring Purples demands for him to be quiet.
Upon entering his room he stared at the walls as he dressed wishing he could be in the interesting other room, and wishing that his head and cheek would stop hurting.
Adjusting his comfortable baggy jeans, and purple rain boots and coat, Zim yawned and walked out into the hall, noticing the drawing room.
The drawing room was a door down on the opposite side of the hall.
Zim smiled; surely his brothers wouldn't notice him in the drawing room. Of course they barely notice him at all when they are working.
As long as no one noticed, Zim would stay out of trouble.
With a sigh Zim cautiously approached the door that led to the drawing room.
Zim stopped and listened. He knew that he was doing something wrong, and he was trying to listen for his brothers coming up the stairs, but he heard nothing.
Zim smiled and walked inside, looking around the drawing room as he did.
The twins did not use the drawing room. They had inherited the furniture from Zim's grandmother, along with a wooden coffee table, a side table, a heavy glass ashtray, and the oil painting of a bowl of fruit. Zim could never work out why anyone would want to paint a bowl of fruit. Other than that, the room was empty: there were no knickknacks on the mantelpiece, no statues or clocks nothing that made it feel comfortable or lived-in.
Growing bored, Zim walked down the stairs to the study where his purple obsessed brother was.
At the moment he was typing something on his old computer.
Apparently he had just come out of the shower. Purple was only in his skinny blue jeans and had a damp towel draping over his head.
"I'm going out for a walk," said Zim.
"Don't go too far," said Purple "and dress up warmly!"
Zim rolled his eyes and walked on towards the main entrance to the house.
It was foggy outside, and very humid, it made Zim's antennae droop a little.
As he walked out he noticed Mr. Slab Rankle walking his dogs. Mr. Rankle was a white haired old guy, with a small scar on his face, and a black eye patch.
Mr. Rankle reminded Zim of a retired Sergeant or Security personnel.
He was bundled up in black pullovers, grey cardigans and oddly enough, black combat boots.
Zim thought he looked like a large, fluffy egg.
"Hello, Tim," said Mr. Rankle looking down at Zim with his one good eye. "rotten weather."
"Yeah, sure is, and its Zim Mr. Rankle, with a Z," said Zim.
"I played Antonio once," said Mr. Rankle, ignoring Zim's correction. "My dear Lucille talks about her Ophelia, but it were my Antonio they came to see!"
Zim tilted his head trying to identify what Mr. Rankle was talking about.
"But even when I didn't do the works of Shakespeare, the great bard. They used to send flowers to my dressing room. They DID," said Mr. Rankle, holding his head high. "It was better than the time I worked in the mall! I loved it when they sent me flowers!"
"Who?" asked Zim, twitching his antennae in curiosity.
Mr. Rankle looked around cautiously, looking over first one shoulder and then over the other, peering into the mists and fogs as though someone might be listening.
"Pretty Women," he whispered, "Don't tell Lucille anything though, are you coming over to play cards Timmy?" asked Mr. Rankle
Zim nodded, "later Mr. Rankle," he said.
Mr. Rankle only nodded, "Remember not a word to the missus," he then tugged the dog's leaches a little and walked off towards the house.
Zim arched an invisible brow and continued on his walk.
He was three quarters of the way around the house when he saw Mrs. Lucille Bitters, standing at the door to the flat she owned with Mr. Rankle.
She had white hair that was picked up in a tight bun, thick glasses and a black dress. She looked as if she were dressed for a funeral. Very scary.
"Have you seen my husband Zeem?" she asked.
"Why does every one think my name is Tim or Zeem? It's Zim! Zim! My parents made no mistake! I am Zim!" said Zim raising his hands up angrily.
Mrs. Bitters only cocked a white brow and put her hands on her small hips.
"Well?" she said, expecting an answer to her question.
Zim sighed and told her that he did see Mr. Rankle, and that he was out walking the dogs.
"I hope he doesn't get lost- it'll bring on his shingles if he does, the moron, you'll see," said Mrs. Bitters, " you'd have to be and explorer to find your way around this fog. Feh, not like my idiotic husband."
"I'm an explorer," said Zim proudly.
"Of course you are, love," said Mrs. Bitters with a passive wave. "Don't get lost, now."
Zim shook his head and continued walking through the gardens in the gray mist. He always kept in sight of the house.
After about ten minutes of walking he found himself back where he started.
Zim then noticed that his antennae were limp and wet, and that his face felt damp.
With a sigh, he walked over to the garden and up the steps to the kitchen door. He wished he could plant the seeds his mother gave him, but Red wouldn't allow it.
Zim then saw the dead rose bush that was in the garden. With a smile he went inside and started looking through a specific drawer in the kitchen.
"Zim what are you doing?" asked Red who was typing on his laptop from his usual spot in the kitchen, he was still in his usual pajama's.
Zim ignored his brother and simply grabbed the garden gloves from the drawer and ran back outside.
Red stared at his computer screen, mildly agitated over the fact that Zim completely ignored him.
Suddenly Zim walked back in with a smile on his face.
"Zim your dripping all over the floor," sighed Red, noticing Zim come in with some dead roses.
"What do you think Redsy, you can put them in the new catalog," said Zim, placing the roses on the table.
Red made a face and quickly drew back his lap top.
"Riiiiight… put them in the sink," said Red annoyed.
Zim stuck his tongue out at his brother and put the roses in the kitchen sink, picking on one of the roses petals.
Red sighed and placed his laptop back on the table, and stared at Zim's cheek.
The bruise he gave his brother was still there, it must have hurt.
"I really miss Michigan," sighed Zim, picking on the pedals of a dead rose, only to draw back a little because a strange insect crawled on his hand.
"You already made a friend," responded Red, going back to typing.
"Dib and Gaz Membrane? They're too psycho to be friends with." Said Zim, flicking the insect through the air, unknowingly making it fall into his brother's coffee.
Red, not knowing that there was an insect in his coffee took a sip and placed the 'I heart mulch' mug back on the table.
"I'm sure you'll meet some great kids when you start school here," said Red.
"When do I go back to school?" asked Zim.
"Uhhhh… August eighteenth I think, that's in uhh, one month actually, yeah you go to school in about a month," said Red taking another sip of his coffee.
"Um, I heard it's uniforms only." said Purple, who just came in from his study. He had an empty bottle of orange juice in his hands; he was probably going to retrieve a new bottle.
"Uniforms? Are you kidding me? Ugh!" groaned Red.
Purple nudged his twin with his elbow, "Oh, don't be such a drama queen."
"Hmph, well that's just great," said Red." I suppose I'll have to get you new school clothes, Zim. Remind me, you two, or else I'll forget." and he went back to typing things on the computer screen.
"What shall I do?" asked Zim.
"Go watch a movie?" suggested Purple, opening the refrigerator door and retrieving a new bottle of orange juice.
"The theatre is too far and I've seen all the movies in this house, and I can't go on Netflix because you two are too busy with the computers and I don't know where the game systems are. So I ask again. What shall I do?" asked Zim.
"Here," said Red placing a blank sheet of printing paper and a pen on the table, "sit down and draw a picture or something."
Zim sat down along with Purple.
The bug that was still swimming in Red's coffee finally was able to crawl out.
"ICK!" said Purple, "There was some weird bug in your drink!"
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!" cried Red throwing his coffee in the sink and quickly running up the stairs to the bathroom.
Zim and Purple laughed as Red ran. The bug, confused only crawled on Zim's drawing paper, and scurried away quickly before any harm could come to it.
"I'll take the poor thing outside," said Purple chuckling as he quickly grabbed the bug and flicked it out the kitchen door.
Zim tried drawing the mist. After ten minutes of drawing all he had was the tiny marks of the strange bug's feet, some mist like swirls and
M T
S
I
Written in squiggly letters.
Zim suddenly felt something on his hand. It was Purple's antenna, apparently he had fallen asleep.
His head was resting on the table and his thin arms resting on his lap.
"You work too much," said Zim quietly, "I wish you and Merah could play with me."
Zim quietly exited the kitchen and went out through the main entrance again, this time with a pair of rose-trimmers at hand.
He wanted to get his explorers hat from the car, Zim had put it for safe keeping in a small rolling book-bag that Red had strapped on top of the car. No one had really bothered to cut the rope that held the book-bag and some other baggage as well. So all this time his brothers' baggage and his hat had been outside in the fog and rain. Thank goodness his book-bag was water-proof.
As Zim walked outside he noticed a small pile of packages and envelopes by the door.
"Oh awesome mail," said Zim hopeful that his friends had sent him a letter or that his mother had sent him new seeds to plant.
Zim quickly stabbed the porch with his rose-trimmers and picked up the mail.
Zim was disappointed as he realized nothing came for him.
"Rodriguez, Rodriguez, Rodriguez," Zim read disappointed. Then a smell came to him. It smelled horrible. Zim sniffed around for a bit and then sniffed the mail. It was the mail that smelled.
"Uhhh! Poowee!" exclaimed Zim in disgust.
"Gross-gusting." He mumbled as he walked up the stairs to Mr. Rodriguez's apartment, which was the attic flat.
The stairs were made of wood and metal, and the railing was wobbly too. Zim didn't like it, the squeaks and groans made him nervous.
Zim finally reached the top and knocked on the door to Mr. Rodriguez's flat, "H-hello? I think our mail got mixed up." he called. Hearing nothing Zim pressed his antennae to the door trying to listen for Mr. Rodriguez. "Should I leave it outside or? AH!" Zim, not knowing that the door was unlocked fell as the door suddenly opened.
Regaining his balance, Zim picked up the packages that fell out of his hand. Curious, Zim looked around the apartment.
Everything was dark, disorganized and full of hay and feathers, not to mention there was a chicken clucking around in there and a chicken suit of some sort.
"SECRET!" shouted a voice, causing Zim to scream and drop the packages again.
"Ahhh!"
"Famous jumping mouse and chicken circus not ready!" said a man that popped out of nowhere and closed the door to the apartment. "Keep door shut! The mice do not like the mist, it makes their whiskers droop."
He munched on a corn stalk and looked down at Zim. "Little Irken boy."
"Circus? Oh uh... I uh, brought this for you?" said Zim rather nervously, handing the packages to the man.
The man smiled and sniffed at the packages.
"Ahhhh delicioso!" he exclaimed, placing the packages in a spot by the stairs.
"Huh?" Zim looked at the man, this was the first time he's seen Mr. Rodriguez up close. Every other time he would see the crazy man on the roof doing some weird exercises. The man was very thin, with balding brown hair, buggy eyes, tan skin and a strange Spanish accent.
"New corn and cheese samples?" said Mr. Rodriguez, balancing on a rail.
"Very clever, using this mix-up to sneak my home and peek at my polluelos y ratoncillos?"
"Po-yellows?" asked Zim confused.
"My pets, the chicks and mice!" said Mr. Rodriguez, doing a split in front of Zim.
"Oh, sorry...I'm Zim Vasquez," said Zim trying to introduce himself.
"And I am the amazing Chicken-foot! Chewy Rodriguez!" said Mr. Rodriguez balancing himself on the rail again, using only one arm to support his body horizontally, "But you call me Mr. R, because amazing I already know that I am!"
Mr. Rodriguez then jumped off the railing.
"What!" exclaimed Zim, looking over the railing in panic, "you didn't die did you?" asked Zim. Only nobody was on the ground. "Huh?" Zim was confused.
Zim then turned around to see Mr. Rodriguez standing there in one piece.
"Ha! You see Tim, the problem is, my new songs go oompah! Oompah! But the chicks go only pip pip, and the mice play only toodle-toot, is nice, but not so much as amazing. So now, I switch to stronger cheese, stronger corn and soon, watch out!" said Mr. Rodriguez saluting.
"Here have broccoli. Make you strong," said Mr. Rodriguez giving Zim a raw broccoli.
Zim only gave Mr. Rodriguez a look and huffed.
"Hasta luego, Tim," said Mr. Rodriguez closing the door.
"ZIM!" said Zim in a serious tone while throwing the broccoli in some random direction.
With a sigh he walked back down stairs, hopefully the visit to Mr. Rankle and Mrs. Bitters would be less than a waste of time.
Taking out his rose-trimmers Zim started to hum the tune Mr. Rodriguez was trying to teach his 'pets.'
"Oompah, oompah, toodle-toot, toodle-toot," he sang as he headed towards the car.
"Hey! Tim, Espera!" called Mr. Rodriguez from his flat. "Waiiiit!"
Zim was not expecting Mr. Rodriguez to jump from the railing, which Zim happened to be under at the moment.
"NO!" cried Zim covering his head with the rose-trimmers. He didn't want to be squished.
"Humph!" Although Mr. Rodriguez did land on the ground, he did so in an awkward squat, mostly due to the fact that Zim's rose trimmers almost nicked his groin.
Mr. Rodriguez moved away and only patted Zim's head. "You rascal, the mice, asked me to give you message," he said in a serious tone.
"The jumping mice?" asked Zim a little confused.
"They are saying... do not go through little door," whispered Mr. Rodriguez.
Zim gasped and backed away from Mr. Rodriguez. This was starting to get a little weird.
"Do you know such a thing?" asked Mr. Rodriguez.
"The door behind the wall paper? But it's all... bricked up," said Zim still confused and shocked.
"Bah. So sorry. Is nothing. Sometimes the mice are little mixed-up. Hmm? They even get your name wrong you know? They call you Zim instead of Tim, not Tim at all! Maybe I work them to hard. Maybe Chicks work to hard too, they won't eat now." Said Mr. Rodriguez walking back up the stairs to his apartment.
Zim flicked his antennae and continued walking towards the car.
What did they mean do not go through the little door?
Phew, okay I hoped you enjoyed my update and if you didn't oh well I tried, I'm sorry.
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Zim: calm down!
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