THE ZIMVENTURES

LIVE

By John Bruni

CHAPTER 1

"Oh yeah, Cris Zim is an asshole."

"Cris Zim thinks he's cool, but he's not."

"Cris Zim sucks."

"SON OF A THOUSAND MANIACS!"

Li'l Cris Zim muttered darkly under his breath as he walked away from his laughing, taunting classmates. Why couldn't they just believe that he was cool? He looked good. He was good at baseball. Why didn't anyone in third grade like him?

He sulked over to the swings and sat down, eyes staring at the ditch where hundreds of elementary school kids before him had skidded to a halt.

"Get off my swing, loser!"

Cris looked up and saw the class bully cracking his knuckles. With a tremendous sigh Cris stood up and walked away toward the woods behind the school.

"Hey little boy. Excuse me, little boy?"

Cris looked up to see a weird adult looking down at him. There was just something off about him. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"Well, we'll have to fix that then." The stranger held out his hand. "I'm Leland Townsend. Nice to meet you."

Cris shook his hand. "I'm Cris Zim. You can call me Cris."

"Cris it is," Leland said. "There. We're not strangers anymore."

He called him Cris! No one ever called him Cris! It was always Zim!

"I saw what just happened over there." Leland nodded toward the third graders who had just made fun of Cris, and now they played as if they hadn't bullied him. "It makes me mad, you know?"

"Yeah," Cris said. "I fucking hate them."

"Don't you wish you could just . . . make them pay?" Leland asked.

"Yeah."

Leland smiled. "I think we're going to get along, Cris. Come along. I'd like to talk to you about something."

Cris followed Leland into the woods. He never thought it was strange that an adult wanted to talk to a child alone in the woods. When he told Geoff about it later, his brother said, "He didn't molest you?"

"No," Cris said.

"Fucking loser. You can't even get molested by a pervert."

Leland found a grove, and here he whispered to Cris about his plans for the future. He taught Cris how to be the master of his destiny, how to be cool, how to make sure the others would never make fun of him again.

And over the years Leland always had great advice for him. In high school Leland taught him that women were objects to be lusted for. "And if you're ever caught copping a feel," Leland said, "remember what I told you to say."

"I'm sorry, I thought you were sleeping?" Cris said.

"You're going to go very far in this world."

That hadn't gone so well, and Cris pulled a disappearing act for a while, but he came back. He always came back.

Unfortunately.

Leland strolled through Hell, confident that enough time had elapsed so that the King no longer paid much attention to the Cage. Sure enough the guards were so lazy they'd fallen asleep. Leland plucked the key from a belt as he approached his destination through the flames.

Three figures sat in the Cage. Leland knew Michael well, and he knew that by now his mind would be Swiss cheese thanks to constant exposure to not one Zim but two. Cris and Geoff also sat in their respective corners. Everyone in the Cage slept.

Leland took up position behind Cris. "Psst," he said. "Wake up."

Cris's eyes opened. "What the fuck? Leland? What are you doing here?"

"It's so good to see you, old friend," Leland said. "You look like you need to stretch your legs. Care to go for a walk?" He held up the key.

"You're letting me out of here?"

"Yes, but only if you're quiet. We don't want to wake Geoff."

Cris looked at his brother and gave him the middle finger. "Yeah," he whispered. "Fuck him."

Leland smiled and put the key in the lock.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .