Scene: Earth of the future, a post-apocalyptic dystopia. The world is covered in filth, rust, decay, mold, acid rain erosion, assorted bodily fluids, and a suspicious glowing substance that may or may not be radioactive waste. Everything is in dismal working order except for gleaming security robots that patrol the streets both night and day, their soulless mechanical eyes focused incessantly on the populace.

We join our heroes inside their tumble-down shack made of sheet metal and industrial scrap. Pepito is feeding a small fire with bits of refuse, looking surprisingly cheerful. Squee is sitting on a pile of rags, staring at the wall with haunted eyes.

Pepito: So I was talking to Hepshelput, Crawling Nightmare From Beyond the Abyss, you know Hepshelput, right? Big guy? Blonde hair? Eyes the color of burning cities? Anyways, I says to him, hey Hepshelput, it seems like the walking dead are everywhere these days, and he says, yeah, since the Earth's death-count went up so much, Heaven and Hell can't keep up with all the red tape, so they're just sending people back. Can you believe that? Talk about your bureaucratic inefficiency. Things'll be real different when I run the place, I can promise you that.

Squee: (quiet) Did you hear that? Are those sirens? I think the sulfur rains are starting up again.

Pepito: That's another thing. Sulfur is such a cliché form of divine vengeance. What'll be next? Rains of toads? Rivers of blood? Feh. The administration's getting tired. They're not as inventive as they used to be.

Squee: I can't believe the whole city was destroyed by one of those rains. I was in the city just a little while ago. I saw the children playing in the streets. Now it's gone. Gone! Just like that!

Pepito: I wouldn't get too worked up about it. Those kids are probably still hanging around here somewhere. God forbid you rearrange a few circles of Hell, hire a guy to rework the furnaces, send somebody out to buy more chairs. Sheesh, this is what you get when people become slaves to tradition.

Squee: (a little teary eyed) Why, Pepito? Why is the world like this now? Why did all this have to happen?

Pepito: Oh, you know. The usual reasons. Corruption of humanity, bloating of the slothful, rule by the avaricious, that sort of thing. Doesn't generally happen because of sodomy, though. If anyone ever tells you that, they're full of it.

Squee: What am I going to do? How am I going to go on living in a world like this?

Pepito: Aw, hey compadre, don't look so down. Why don't you come over here and let me cheer you up?

Squee: (suspicious) I think I'd rather stay over here.

Pepito: Are you sure? It's warm and cozy by the fire.

Squee: I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you.

Pepito: (disappointed) Okay.

Squee: Hey, is there any of that Dib Co brand Food-like Digestible Product left?

Pepito: No, we're all out. But I can conjure up some delectable goulash. It's made from the brains of the unrepentant, stewed by the thousand-armed demon of the fiery lake.

Squee: Um, suddenly I'm not hungry anymore.

Pepito: It'll only take a minute.

Squee: I'm fine, really.

Pepito: If you say so. So tell me, how's work goin?

Squee: Ugh. Don't ask. If I have to look another mutated squid monster down the throat, my grip on sanity is finally going to snap.

Pepito: You know, there's a position opening up in the managerial sector. It's a pretty cushy job. No whipping, no starvation, no shedding of blood. You just push papers and do filing all day.

Squee: That does sound pretty nice. But I'm sure some other human will get the job before I can.

Pepito: chuckles Don't be so sure. I've got a few puppet strings up my sleeve.

Squee: Wow, really! You can get me the job? That's great! Um, wait, if I accept this, it doesn't mean you own my soul or anything, does it?

Pepito: Don't be silly. Demons don't go out of our way to steal souls. We get far more than we can deal with already.

Squee: Well, I guess there's no harm in it then.

Pepito: That's the spirit!

Scene: A rather nice-looking office building in the middle of nowhere. All around, the sands stretch out emptily like the aftermath of a nuclear winter.

Squee: Is this the place? It seems kind of deserted.

Pepito: Yeah, the Dib Co zoning commission really sucks.

They go inside.

Pepito: (showing Squee around) This is the boardroom. This is the cafeteria. This is the snake pit. And over here is your desk. What do you think?

Squee: I suppose it could be worse. So far nothing's tried to eat me, and I guess that's all I can ask for.

Pepito: Great! Well, call me if you need anything. I'll be at my job.

Squee: What is it that you do, anyway?

Pepito: I'm a cookware salesman.

Suddenly, in walks the horrific, soulless, pakless shell of Zim's body

Zim: Bluuuuuuuuuuuggghhhh.

Squee: OH MY GOD! WHAT IN THE NAME OF JESUS IS THAT THING?

Pepito: That's your supervisor.

Squee: NO!

Pepito: Something the matter?

Squee: YES, SOMETHING IS THE MATTER! Look, I've had all kinds of bad luck in my life. There's been the endless string of lunatics and monsters, the annihilation of civilization as we know it, the thing with the medical sutures that I won't repeat here, but this is the end! I'm telling you I can't take anymore!

Pepito: You don't like the job?

Squee: It's not about the job! It's the principle of the thing! I should not have to put up with all this!

Pepito: (all sympathy) You're absolutely right, amigo, you shouldn't.

Squee: Other people get to be happy sometimes! Maybe not very often, but at least once in a while. Why shouldn't I?

Pepito: You absolutely should.

Squee: So what's the secret? Why was I singled out to be the universe's punching bag?

Pepito: I don't know. It isn't fair.

Zim: Blaaaaaaaaaarrrggghhhh.

Pepito: Eh, maybe we should get you away from that guy. He doesn't seem to be lifting your spirits.

Squee: (hollow, dead voice) No, I don't think he is.

Pepito leads Squee out of the building. Zim remains standing in the room, lifeless and grotesque as ever.

Zim: Buuuuuuuuurrrggghhh.

Suddenly and without warning, one of the walls explodes inwards. Zim does not react.

In stomps Dib, with Zim's pak on his back. Surrounding him is a hoard of robots. Behind the robots is a floating platform with loudspeakers on it. The loudspeakers repeatedly chant party slogans.

Loudspeakers: All hail Dib, overlord of Earth, master of all he surveys and resplendent beyond human imagining! All hail Dib, overlord of Earth, master of all he surveys and resplendent beyond human imagining!

Dib's eyes roam about the interior of the building until he spots Zim.

Dib: Yes! Yes! All according to plan!

He turns to his robots.

Dib: Now leave me! I have important work to do!

They do so. Dib approaches Zim, a maniacal gleam in his eye.

Dib: Finally! After all these years of searching, I can be free of this stinky human body!

He takes the pak off his back and puts in on Zim's back.

Zim: Fluuuuuuuuggghhh?

Ten minutes or so pass. Dib gets increasingly woozy and finally collapses. Meanwhile, comprehension slowly dawns in Zim's eyes.

Zim: Thoughts…returning. Identity…resurfacing. Overwhelming disgust…welling in my wicked heart once more! Yes…yes…it's all coming back!

Zim runs out of the room, crowing with glee. A few minutes pass. Then a painful moaning sound comes from Dib. He pushes himself up on his elbows and rubs his forehead. He gets a good look at his hands and his eyes widen in shock. He gets up onto his feet, wobbles a little, and finds his balance. Staggering around for a bit, he finally finds a window and spends a long time staring at his reflection in the glass.

Dib: What in God's name?

Scene: Out in the middle of nowhere. The sands are still stretching out emptily in every direction. Pepito's futuristic but horribly run-down hover car is parked by the side of the road.

Squee sits on a small rock, watching a mutated lizard with glowing eyes and giant mandibles skitter across the ground. It opens its mouth and growls at him, waving its numerous stinger-edged tongues. Squee, without any change of expression, tosses the sandwich he was eating at it, which it devours before scooting away.

Pepito walks up and kneels beside Squee, offering him a bottle of tequila. Squee waves it away. Pepito shrugs and takes a swig before putting the cap back on and putting the bottle in his jacket pocket.

Pepito: Feeling better?

Squee: A little. I didn't mean to explode at you like that, by the way.

Pepito: Entirely my fault. So you'll keep going on at the mutant squid hatchery?

Squee: No, I shouldn't do that. You went through all the effort of finding me that job. The least I can do is accept it. I'm sure I can find a way to tolerate that…thing.

Pepito: That's good. I think a change of environment would be beneficial for you. You could broaden your horizons. See more of the world.

Squee: Pepito, we're all slaves. No matter how broad our horizons get, they're never going to get any wider than the floor of a cage.

Pepito: Yeeeeees, but it's not all bad, is it? You enjoyed it when those sea creatures mutated and started walking on land.

Squee: YOU enjoyed it when the sea creatures started walking on land. I'M still trying to repress the memory.

Pepito: Oh, that's right. Let's see, I'm sure I can find another example.

Squee: Look, just let it go.

There's a long silence.

Pepito: Are you sure you don't want any tequila?

Squee: Maybe just a little.

Scene: A public marketplace, the next day. Squee goes from stand to stand, trying to find food that isn't inedible/toxic/sentient.

Squee: Yuck. Look at all this.

Squee is distracted by what looks like a public demonstration in the center of the market.

Squee: Hmm?

Dib: (standing on top of a crate) And I tell you it's time to rise up! Throw off the shackles of oppression and create a new world!

Squee: What the? Isn't that the overlord?

Some random woman: Dude, didn't you hear? The old overlord was defeated by a new overlord, and now the old overlord is looking for followers to help him re-defeat the new overlord again!

Squee: What? When did that happen?

Woman: I dunno. Like, yesterday or something.

Dib: I will lead us all unto the promised land! You will be slaves no longer, but free men able to take a full breath of air once more, and then say to yourselves, "Truly I am whole!"

The crowd goes wild.

Squee: That's ridiculous! This guy has spent the last ten years transforming the world into an Earthly vision of Hell, and now everybody's going to side with him?

Random guy #1: Boo!

Random guy #2: Shun the nonbeliever!

Random guy #3: Execute him for the glory of our new king!

Dib: Wait! Wait! No! That won't be necessary. Just let me talk to him.

Dib draws Squee aside so that they can have some privacy. Squee clearly does not want to be drawn aside but fears he has no choice.

Dib: I like the cut of your gib. You've got more brains than anyone else I've met since I reawakened.

Squee: Please don't kill me.

Dib: Kill you? Oh, no, no, no. I want to recruit you! I want you to be my second in command, help me get Earth back on track! What do you say?

Squee: Uh, could I have some time to think it over?

Dib: Sure.

Scene: Pepito and Squee's hovel.

Squee walks in the door, shaking his head in disbelief.

Squee: You won't believe what happened to me today. Some guy offered to let me be his second in command if I helped him take control of Earth.

Pepito: (immediately exploding with jealousy) What! Who! Who was it! I'll kill him! But first I'll mutilate him!

Squee: Oh, relax. I didn't consider saying yes or anything.

Pepito: Who was he! What did he say to you! Did he offer you riches? Gold? Power? Whatever it was, I'll triple it!

Squee: Geez, Pepito. Why are you so worked up over this?

Pepito: Isn't it obvious?

Long, meaningful silence.

Squee: sigh I guess it is.

Pepito: Look, Todd. Maybe it's time we seriously talked about this. After all the things I've done for you, all the times I've asked you to join my cause, even inviting you to move in with me, I think it's time we got down to the reason why.

Squee: Do we have to? Can't we just keep stepping around it? I think that's worked pretty well up until now.

Pepito: No! This is important. I have to ask. You know how I feel about you, don't you?

Squee: (quiet voice) I guess I do.

Pepito: Do you feel the same way about me?

Squee: It's not…I mean…I'm not saying I don't care about you, but…

Pepito: But what?

Squee: Uh, well, I don't want to sound mean or anything, but I'm a good Christian boy and you are he who stands as the opposer, the tempter, and the beast. I don't think we're really that compatible.

Pepito: (heartbroken) Oh. Oh, I see.

Squee: It's not you, Pepito. Really. You're a great guy. It's me.

Pepito: No, I understand. I guess I was a fool to think you'd ever look at me the same way I look at you.

Squee: Well, I don't know. We had some good times together. Remember when I was about to be slaughtered by that hoard of zombies, but then you blew them up? Or that time I was about to be vaporized by those death robots, but then you blew them up? Or that time those scientists were going to implant the brain of a chicken in my head, but then you blew them up?

Pepito: laughs softly Oh yeah. Good times indeed.

Pepito looks down at his hands.

Pepito: Do you think…maybe…could I…?

Squee: Yes?

Pepito: If it's all right, do you think maybe you could just give me a kiss? Just a little one? So I'd have the memory?

Squee: Um, I don't know.

Pepito: What if it's just on the cheek?

Squee: I'd better not.

Pepito: Oh.

Squee: You're not upset, are you?

Pepito: (obviously upset) I'm perfectly fine.

A few moments pass while Pepito tries to look stoic. His success is weak to middling at best.

Squee: Look, I tell you what. Maybe we should spend a little time apart.

Pepito: You mean like the rest of the day?

Squee: I was thinking more along the lines of me moving out and finding my own place.

Pepito: What? Like where?

Squee: I don't know. I'll find something. I'm sure I can get by without having demonic protection all the time. (stops and thinks about it) Well actually, on second thought, I probably can't. But I should at least try, if only for a little while.

Scene: The underground headquarters of the Resistance. Dib and Squee sit alone at a table.

Squee: So now I've got nowhere to go.

Dib: Yes, yes. It's terrible. Now look, here's what I had in mind for our first strike.

Squee: I mean, I know I'm a grownup and everything. I don't need a babysitter. But still, it feels weird to be out on my own.

Dib: Uh huh. Sure. See, I was thinking we could infiltrate Zim's robot factory. His robot enforcers are the heart of his empire, and if we take those out, the whole thing will collapse.

Squee: Why is this bugging me so much? It doesn't make any sense.

Dib: That's fascinating, Squee. Now pay attention. If I know Zim, and I do, he's paranoid enough to have several layers of security, but arrogant enough to leave huge holes in all of them. Getting inside should be easier than it looks.

Squee: Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not going to find answers here. I need to be alone for a while so I can think.

Squee gets up to leave.

Dib: Hey, where are you going? What about saving the human race?

The door to the headquarters loudly slams shut.

Dib: Goddamn. It never ends.

Scene: A crossing walk on a crowded street. Some moron is talking loudly into his cell phone to some other moron about nothing. Everyone in the immediate area is staring at him in undisguised rage.

Moron: (absurdly loud) And then I was like "Dude!" and he was like "Yep!" and I was like "No way!" and he was like "Uh huh!"

Pepito walks up behind the guy and very calmly takes out a bottle of lighter fluid. He unscrews the cap and throws the contents all over the guy.

Moron: Ugh! Oh God! I'm covered in some kind of clear, viscous fluid of some sort!

Pepito takes out a match and strikes it. He looks at the flame contemplatively for a few seconds, then throws it on the guy. The guy immediately catches fire and goes running down the street, screaming at the top of his lungs. The entire crowd erupts in applause.

Pepito watches the guy run away and listens to the cheering for a while. Then he shoves his hands in his pockets and skuffs his toe on the sidewalk.

Pepito: Eh, even this doesn't cheer me up anymore.

Scene: A shanty town surrounded by barb wire. It looks more like a garbage dump than a place where people live.

Squee: Sheesh. Check this place out.

He pulls a scrap of paper out of his pocket and looks at it.

Squee: Let's see. I'm supposed to meet someone named "Gutbucket" who lives in the first shack on the left.

He finds the proper shack and knocks on the door. There is no answer. He waits a little while and knocks again.

A lady with fingerless gloves and filthy overalls answers the door.

Gutbucket: Whaaaaaaaat?

Squee: Um, I'm Todd Casil. I'd like to move into the shanty town?

Gutbucket: What? How can you think about that right now? There's a REVOLUTION going on, son!

Squee looks confused. Gutbucket yanks him into the shack and points at the TV. Don't ask why a woman living in a shack has a TV. She just does.

Squee: Holy damn.

On the TV, Dib is leading his army of dim-witted but well-meaning revolutionaries into a giant factory. Above the entrance to the factory are the words "Dib Co Robot Manufacturing," except the word "Dib Co" has been crossed out with paint, with the word "Zim Co" scribbled above it.

Dib: Your reign of terror is over, Zim! We're taking our planet back!

Revolutionary #1: Wooooooo!

Revolutionary #2: Down with tyranny!

Revolutionary #3: The imperialist bourgeois lackeys will be as wheat before the glorious tractors of revolution!

The TV now shows footage of the robot factory being destroyed by a series of explosions. The camera cuts to an anchor.

Anchor: And so, we here at Slave News One bitterly denounce the actions of this group, and pray our benevolent leader can bring them to justice quickly.

The camera pulls back to reveal a Zim Co robot standing not far from the anchor's desk, both its gun arms at the ready.

Anchor: For Slave News One, this is Anchor von Reporterstein saying good night and-

Suddenly, sparks start flying from the robot. It convulses for a while, then collapses on the floor.

A guy in a mechanic's uniform walks on camera.

Mechanic: (in a stereotypical New York roughneck accent) Hey, pally. This here's a Zim Co robot. They're controlled by a centralized computer system at that there factory. The factory gets destroyed, all these babies go off line.

Reporter: Oh. In that case, hurrah for the revolution, and may the streets run red with the blood of all who oppose it!

Loud cheers come from the camera crew.

Squee: Whoa. I wonder if Pepito's heard about this.

Scene: Another crowded city street. Pepito walks down it, talking into the cell phone the moron was holding.

Pepito: (in Spanish) Dad, I'm glad things are going easier and all, but I hope you've learned from the experience. You gotta be better prepared in case this happens again, you know?

Pepito looks up and sees something.

Pepito: (still Spanish) Oh, wait. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, Dad.

He presses the off button as Squee runs up to him. Squee looks like he's about to say something, but then seems to remember that their last meeting didn't end amiably.

Squee: I…uh…oh…um, hi, Pepito. Uh, how are you?

Pepito: Fine. And you?

Squee: Fine.

Long, awkward silence.

Pepito: Aw, look, I don't want to fight. If you don't think we belong together, I can respect that. I don't agree, but I can respect it.

Squee: Really?

Pepito: Yeah. So let's just let it drop. Are we cool? Back to normal and everything?

Squee: (extremely relieved) Yeah, we're cool.

Pepito: So did you hear the big news?

Squee: I did! Does this mean we're not slaves anymore?

Pepito: Yep. Crazy, isn't it? I tell ya, the winds of change, they never stop a-blowin.

Squee: You wanna run around in circles screaming with joy for a while?

Pepito: I'd love to.

Scene: Look! Who is that tearing down the plains? Why it's Zim in some kind of giant cliché mech suit! Dib is close at his heels in another cliché mech suit! Where did they get these mech suits? Who would ever build a mech suit, anyway? Mechs are more clumsy than tanks or fighter jets, and far more vulnerable to attack. Why would anybody fight in these things?

Dib: This is the final showdown, Zim! The real thing this time! Not like that final showdown we had in the meat factory, or that one we had in the Crab Nebula, or that one we had twenty minutes ago! This is the real, true, final, final showdown!

Zim: You don't scare me, spongey creature of oil and mucus! I certainly hope you're ready to be my bitch!

Dib: Then quit running! Turn around and face me!

Zim: I will! Just…give me a minute.

The chase continues.

Scene: Squee and Pepito are out in the desert again, sitting on the sand, watching a far-off sulfur rain.

Squee: You know, from a distance, it kind of looks like a shower of shooting stars.

Pepito: Really? To me it looks like the unrepentant souls of the deceitful, searing with vice, hurtling downward under the weight of their sins until they are finally silenced.

Squee: I don't see it.

Pepito: You have to kind of tilt your head.

Suddenly, in a tiny nearby pool, a ripple spreads across the surface of the water a la Jurassic Park. No, I don't know why there's a pool of water in the desert. You ask too many questions. Lay off.

A pair of gleaming mechs appear over the horizon.

Dib: Come on, Zim! Stop running! Fight me already!

Zim: I said I'm going to! Quit yelling at me!

Pepito sees that he and Squee are directly in the path of the rampaging mechs. He realizes that if he doesn't do something to stop the goofy-looking yet powerful killing machines, they could accidentally kill Squee. Pepito digs his feet into the sand and widens his legs into a kung fu stance. He mutters forbidden incantations, preparing all his demonic powers for a fiery smack-down of Biblical proportions.

A fiery smack-down of Biblical proportions ensues.

When it's over, Dib and Zim lie unconscious on the sand, metallic debris scattered all around their inert forms. Don't worry, they're fine. They're like two immortal Gods, locked together in combat for the rest of eternity, doomed to fight each other without cease until the end of the age. Or at least until they get bored and start making out. Whichever. Let's leave them and see what our heroes are up to.

Squee: Wow, Pepito, you saved my life! Again!

Pepito: Eh, don't mention it.

He glances at the setting sun.

Pepito: Hey, it's getting late. We'd better head back to our place before the night abominations start wandering through the streets.

Squee: Um, I don't live with you anymore, remember?

Pepito: Oh. Yeah. That's right. I don't suppose you've had any second thoughts about the whole moving out thing, have you?

There's a long silence. Pepito and Squee look at each other. Pepito has a faint look of hope in his eyes.

Squee: Sorry.

Pepito: (sadly) Okay. I'll see you around, then.

Pepito turns to leave. After a few meters, he stops and looks back. Squee waves goodbye. Pepito does not wave back. He looks down sadly at his shoes and continues walking. After a while, Squee's expression changes to one of sadness as well.

Scene: The exterior of Pepito's hovel. Morning.

Squee walks up, looking apprehensive. He knocks on the door.

Squee: Pepito? Hey, Pepito? It's me. I just came to pick up my copy of Memoirs of a Geisha.

There is no response.

Squee: Pepito?

He opens the door and goes inside. Pepito is passed out on the floor, next to a fire pit in which the fire has long since died out. In his hand is a half-empty bottle of tequila. The tequila has a worm in it with six heads and four rows of teeth in each mouth. Squee goes and kneels down next to Pepito. The worm hisses at him from the bottle. Squee ignores it and taps Pepito's cheek gently with the back of his hand.

Squee: Pepito. Pepito. Hey, Pepi, wake up.

Pepito does not wake up. Squee tucks his hands under Pepito's shoulders and knees and lifts him off the ground.

Squee: Unf! Wow, you're lighter than I thought you'd be. Maybe you need to eat more brain goulash.

Pepito: (still unconscious) Blmmmpf.

He carries Pepito over to the ratty, worn mattress in the corner and lays him down on it. Then he goes looking for his book. He finds it on the spool coffee table, with a little note on top of it reading:

Mail to Todd tmw.

Squee picks up the note and looks at it. His eyes get a little wobbly. He looks over at Pepito, who is still drunkenly unconscious and also kind of drooly.

Pepito: Bffft. Argle Bargle. Fooferah.

Squee goes over to the mattress and sits down on the edge of it.

Squee: Geez. Poor Pepi. He does so much for me and I don't think I've ever even said "Thank you."

Squee finds a blanket and draws it over him, tucking him in nice and cozy. He brushes some hair out of his eyes. Then he gets up and heads for the door. But halfway there, he stops and turns around. A long moment passes while he seems to be deep in thought.

Squee: (softly) This is one of those rare moments where the actions I take now could determine the course of my whole life. Which will win out, my excessive caution or the soul-strumming dictates of my heart?

A brief but intense inner struggle takes place.

Squee: Aw man, I have a lot less self-control than I thought.

He walks back to the mattress and kneels down beside it. Placing his hand on the back of Pepito's neck, he bends down and kisses him gently on the cheek.

Pepito: (still unconscious) Buh?

Squee smiles a little and leans back to sit on his heels. Then he rests his elbows on the mattress and puts his chin on his hands, waiting for Pepito to wake up.