He nervously waited on the sidewalk to see if the planet was about to implode, as his old teacher Ms. Bitters was fond of telling them. Nothing happened. The pace of his march slowed considerably as he came closer to his little house with its yard of lawn gnomes. The situation in his yard continued to occur stubbornly before him.
Gaz Membrane was sitting in his yard. Playing. With Gir, of all robots.
He shook his head and prepared to yell something demeaning, but Gaz beat him to it.
"Hello, Zim-loser." She didn't bother to look up from the pile of cards in her hand. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come onto your own property?" Zim started at this, and gingerly stepped over the threshold that divided sanity and…this.
Gir looked up from the cards it was busy trying to shove into its mouth and immediately pounced on Zim, using its tiny rockets for extra momentum. "Master! You're hooome! Gazzy came to play with me! I LOVE CUPCAKES!" Zim tried to pry the insane robot off of him and landed hard on the grass.
"Hello, Gir. Now get off me! You dare squish Zim's squeedily spooch?" Zim bellowed. Gir snickered and cocked its head.
"I do." It began to dance around the yard. Zim glanced over at Gaz, who had not so much as looked up as the whole interaction took place.
"So, dirt-child Gaz…what are you doing at my wonderful base? The Dib-monster seemed to think that there is or was something wrong with your emotional stability," Zim stated, standing. Gaz merely glared up at him. He squirmed, uncomfortable, and fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt. He had outgrown his Irken uniforms and was forced to wear the same clothing as the rest of the disgusting worm babies on the planet. He pulled the charm out of his pocket and held it out. "You dropped this as you pushed by us. Which, by the way, would not have been tolerated by me, Zim, had you not been so annoyed."
She stood, shuffling the deck of cards, and took it. Gaz peered at the small metal figure closely. "This isn't mine," she said as she carelessly flicked it. It hit Zim in the forehead. Gir ran up to the human girl and wrapped itself around her leg.
"Let's make biscuits! GAZZY, LET'S MAKE BISCUITS!" the little robot shouted. She smirked and allowed Gir to lead her into the base. Zim tried to stop them to no avail.
"Stop! You don't know what you're doing! Little Gaz-human!" Zim yelled, running after the human and his stupid minion. Gaz slammed the front door in his face, snickering. It took him a few minutes to get inside, as the door was locked, but when he did he made a bee-line for the kitchen. "You're going to –" All thoughts left his brain when he saw Gaz wearing an apron. An apron was not something he could easily imagine her donning.
"Make biscuits?" she finished for him. She poured some Bisquick into a bowl. Gir happily stirred the contents, humming a little song. "Give it a rest, Zim. I'm not like Dib, okay? I couldn't care less about your demented little plans of conquest, or your base, or the fact that you and Gir aren't even from any planet I know exists." Ignoring the shocked expression on the homeowner's face, Gaz started to shape the dough while Gir poured cinnamon sugar sprinkles on top of the soon-to-be biscuits.
Zim joined them at the table. "Zim does not quite understand what is going on, little Gaz-human. I have been informed numerous times that you detest all sentient beings that walk on two legs. I have come to realize that I fit into that category."
"I like Gir," she pointed out. "Well, to an extent, at least." She carried the baking sheet over to the oven, deposited it on the rack, and set the timer. She winced as Zim shouted in anger.
"GIR! Get off my head this instant! What do you think you're doing?" Zim waved his arms around his head, failing at getting the little SIR unit away from him. "No! Injustice!"
Gaz rolled her eyes and pulled Gir away from the furious alien, holding the demented little being in her arms. "Don't be such a pest, Gir. Your master gives me a headache." Gir attached itself to her side.
"I looooove you, Gaz! Tuna! I must get tuna!" In a blur of silver and blue, Gir was racing down the hallway to the living room.
"I think you can put your arms down now. You look ridiculous." Gaz untied the apron and draped it over a chair. Zim cleared his throat, dropping his arms. He shoved his gloved claws into the pockets of his Earth jeans. "Besides," the human girl said after thirty-four seconds of silence, "I don't not like you." She left the room as Zim absorbed the information. He followed after a moment, watching Gaz hook up her Game Slave Portable to his large-screen television. She tossed him a control as he sat on the couch beside her.
"Well, Gaz-human, I suppose it is safe for me to say that I do not find you as hideously revolting as the rest of your disgusting smelly-pig race."
The human almost smiled.
