Hello Fanfictioners. Welcome to my latest story. The summary, title, and such intrigued you, no? Firstly, I would like to say, HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! WOOOO! My first story/chapter/oneshot/thing of the New Year! Yay! Secondly, I would like to say that this idea is merely my attempt at some Invader Zim humor, I sincerely hope you find this as amusing as I did. Thirdly, I would like to state that the basis of this story is built on a ZADF foundation, so we're clear. Fourthly, I forgot what I was going to put for fourthly. Meh. I'll remember it later. Fifthly, many different authors and their stories came as the inspiration for this little oneshot, OhHowDelightfullyDreadful and Freakazette Raven to name just two. Sixthly, I remember what I was going to say for fourthly, I apologize for any OOCness. Lastly, the disclaimer. I do not own Invader Zim, all rights, characters, and aspects of the show belong to Jhonen Vasquez. Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy.

It was a beautiful day, maybe the most beautiful of the year. The flowers were blooming, the birds were chirping, the air was cool and the temperature was a perfect 70 degrees. The late morning sun hung in the sky above the nameless town as a small green dog dragged and equally green child down the sidewalk. Wait, what?

"Gir, please, slow down!" the green child yelled at the dog, struggling to maintain a grip on the leash.

"WEEEEEE'RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD, THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OOOOOZZZZ!" screeched the small dog at the top of his lungs, taking no heed to his master's request and continuing to skip down the sidewalk.

"I do not know who this Wizard-of-Oz human is, or why he is so wonderful, but we are DEFINITELY not going to see him!" snapped the child.

The dog stopped and turned to face his master, looking shocked and severely disappointed.

"But, but we HAVE to go to Oz! The Munchkins NEED me!" squealed the green dog, close to tears.

The boy sighed.

"No, Gir. We're going to the Dib's house. He invited us, remember?"

"Oh yeaahhhh… WE'RE GOING TO DIBBY'S HOUSE!" screamed the dog, regaining his happy disposition.

The dog's hind legs opened up and jets of blue flame erupted from the ends, causing both he and his master to become airborne. Mere milliseconds later, all that remained where the green duo had been standing was a thick trail of smoke, and two screams, one of pure ecstasy, the other of pure terror, still hung in the air.

After a few more seconds of wrong turns, screaming, and breaking the sound barrier, the pair arrived at their destination. Actually, to be more accurate, they crashed into the front door.

The dog got up immediately, completely unharmed, and stood grinning at his less fortunate master, who had yet to get up.

"YAAAY! WE'S HEEERE!" yelled the green dog, clapping his hands joyfully.

"Oh, we are?" the boy replied, dazed.

The dog didn't reply, instead watching his master get up, his spine crackling as he rose to his feet and limped over to the door. He tried the handle, only to find it locked. He signaled his dog, who rushed over, and, opening up it's head, pulled out a key. He unlocked the door, and, opening it, was met by a wash of somber colors. The place could have been decorated by an emo it was so dark. Stepping in, he closed the door behind him.

"Well, at least we can take our disguises off in here," he mused.

That said, he reached up and pulled off the black, Elvis-style wig he was wearing, revealing two antennae underneath, and dropped the wig on the ground near the door. He then removed the lenses from his eyes, uncovering pupil less ocular implants, both colored and intense ruby, identical in color to the slightly oversized shirt he was wearing. As he did this, his small companion undid the zipper on his chest, and squirmed out of his green doggy suit as fast as he could, exposing his robotic metal structure and bright, cyan eyes.

"DIB! Dib? We're here!... Huh, maybe he isn't home," the alien said.

"Big-Head isn't here? Why? Why? WHHHHYYYYYY?" screamed the robot, before suddenly recovering.

"I'M GONNA THROW ALL THE FURNITURE INTO THE SEA!" he yelled, dashing out of the room.

The alien rolled his eyes, sighed, and went after the insane robot, hoping to catch him before he could do too much damage. He quickly found Gir, who was screaming and running in circles around the kitchen table. As he was pinning the hyperactive android down in an attempt to restrain him, something caught his eye. Something on the kitchen table.

"Hey… There's a note!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Gir slid out from under him, jumped onto the table, and grabbed the note. Holding it centimeters away from his face, he stared at it intently for a few seconds before scrunching it tightly in one of his metal hands.

"IT SAYS TO BURN THE HOUSE DOWN!" the SIR unit announced happily.

"No, it doesn't! Give me that!" the alien snapped in response, pinning Gir again and snatching the note, which read:

Zim-

If you're reading this, you've probably already realized I'm not home. I went out to take care of some things, I'll be back in a few hours. Make yourselves at home, but please don't make a mess. Oh, and try to keep Gir under control, I'm really not in the mood for a repeat of the beaver incident. Yeah, you remember. I was in the hospital for a month, we had to have the house fumigated, and the rug still smells like burnt spaghetti. Well, whatever. See you in a few hours.

-Dib

Zim read the note twice, and was about to put it down, when he noticed there was something on the back.

IF YOU DRINK MY SODA, YOU WILL PAY.

-Gaz

Was scrawled in sketchy red letters across the back of the paper.

"It's written in blood!" Gir exclaimed cheerily. He'd been reading over Zim's shoulder.

"Yeaahhh…" Zim muttered, a bit disturbed by this.

"So, uhh, the Dib-human won't be back for a few hours, what do you want to do to pass the time?" Zim asked Gir.

"LET'S MAKE WAFFLES!" the SIR unit screamed without a pause.

Instantly Zim's head filled with dozens of memories, all of terrible, terrible, horrific, terrible, traumatic, did I mention terrible?, terrible experiences, all associated with Gir's waffles. That aside, saying no wasn't a good idea either, he'd throw a fit. And one of Gir's fits was almost as bad as the waffles themselves. So, not wanting to face one of Gir's temper tantrums, Zim decided to put up with Gir just this once.

"Okay then," Zim said, grimacing. "What kind of waffles are we making?" he asked, hoping to stall for time.

"EVERYTHING waffles!" Gir squealed happily.

"Uhhh… What's in an everything waffle?" Zim asked, a bit confused.

"EVERYTHING!" Gir yelled. (That was a stupid question, Zim.)

Zim decided not to comment on this.

"Mm-hmmm… Alright, maybe we should wait until the Dib gets back to make waffles for, ummm… Safety reasons." Zim suggested, getting desperate.

"NO! I WANNA DO IT NOOOWWW!" Gir howled.

"Alright, alright! We can do it now!" Zim said, giving in. "Here, you call out the ingredients, and I'll bring them to you."

"YAAAAAAYYYY! WE'S GONNA MAKE WAAAFFLEEEES!" Gir screamed, a bowl, and egg beater, some other cooking equipment, a few stray rubber pigs, and a chef's hat flying out of his head. The hat he put on, and then he set every thing else on the table in front of him (Except for the pigs. Those he ate.) as Zim stood next to the refrigerator and the food cabinets, waiting for Gir's instructions.

"Flour!"

Zim rifled through the cabinets for a minute before finding the flour and handing it to Gir, who dumped the whole bag into the large bowl in front of him, covering himself and the table in front of him in a fine layer of white powder in the process.

"Sugar!"

Zim passed the sugar to Gir, it had been next to the flour. Gir dumped all of this into the bowl, too.

"Milk!"

Zim opened the fridge and removed the milk, passing it to Gir. When, after a few minutes of struggling, Gir still couldn't get the top off the carton, he held it upside-down over the bowl and squeezed it until the top blew open. Most of it landed in the bowl, but a great deal of the opaque white liquid splashed onto the table and floor, mixing with the flour and becoming a gooey mush.

Zim sighed inwardly. So much for not making a mess…

"Eggs!"

Zim pulled the eggs out of the fridge and gently set the carton of the delicate objects on the table. Gir proceeded to pick up the whole carton, drop it into the bowl, and mash in into oblivion in the batter, shells, cardboard, and all.

Zim didn't comment on this, either.

"Strawberries!"

These too were retrieved from the fridge. Gir pulled out three or four, chopped them finely, and dropped them into the bowl. The rest he ate himself, all at the same time, causing red juice to join the rest of the mess.

"Nuts!"

And nuts there were. Pecans, pistachios, peanuts, walnuts, almonds, cashews, macadamia nuts, all went into the bowl.

"Meat slab!"

Tossing the hunk of meat back and forth like a hot potato as it burned his Irken skin, Zim delivered the slab to a smiling Gir. Gir tore the slab in half, one half he dropped into the bowl, the other half he crammed into his head. When this earned a "WTF?" look from Zim, "For later," Gir explained, grinning.

"Onions!"

By this point Zim was just tossing the ingredients into the bowl, so the onions hit the batter with a satisfying squish.

"A potato!"

Splat.

"A tomato!"

Splot.

"And some cheese!"

Blort.

"A loaf of bread!"

Thup.

"Cereal!"

Bdmp. Slip. Crash. Pikita-pok-skllllrrr.

That last one was Zim slipping and two or three boxes of cereal emptying on the floor.

"Great. Gir, you wait here, I'm going to get a broom," Zim said, trudging out of the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Zim returned with the broom. Gir was, surprisingly enough, standing exactly where Zim had left him. The bowl looked a little more full than when he'd left, but he decided it was just his imagination. (Which, knowing Gir, is a HUGE mistake.)

After sweeping up the mess, they resumed waffle making.

"Chemicals!"

"Hold on, what?"

Before Zim could stop him, Gir had added half a bottle of dish soap, as well as several other deadly chemicals, to the bowl.

I really hope I don't have to eat these, he thought, watching Gir happily add the toxic liquids to the batter.

Things only got weirder from there. Unless, of course, you consider things like mustard, pepper, gravel, lemons, and a half-gallon of caramel ice-cream topping normal waffle ingredients.

When Gir reduced an entire chair to splinters and added that to the bowl, Zim had to draw the line, and pointed out to Gir that the bowl was pretty full.

So, what used to be waffle batter, but now looked like tar and smelled like low tide, was taken out of the bowl and plopped into lumps on the tray by Gir, then crammed into the oven. Standing on a chair, Gir set the temperature and time to bake.

However it wasn't long before something else went wrong. (I told you it would, but did you listen to me? Noooo…) And that wrongness came in the form of the oven beginning to spark, crackle, and shake.

"Gir…" Zim said, approaching the possessed oven tentatively.

"Yeeesss?" the SIR unit replied, crawling out of the microwave.

"Gir, did you put something else in those waffles when I was getting the broom?"

"Maaaaybe…"

"What did you put in the waffles, Gir?"

The oven began to shake and spark more fiercely, the crackle building to an electric hum.

"Well, uh, let's see… Love…"

"Yes…"

"And joy…"

"Yes…"

"And, uh, more love…"

"Go on…"

"Oh yeah, and some high-power explosives I found under the sink!"

"WHAT?"

"YAAAAYYY! IT GONNA 'SPLODE!" cheered the android, clapping, dancing, and pointing at the oven.

"TAKE COVER!" Zim yelled, grabbing Gir by his small antennae and starting to drag him out of the room.

"Preettyyyy…" ooed the robot, staring in awe at the oven, which was now bucking and roaring loudly as huge waves of electricity washed over it.

They only just made it out in time. The entire kitchen blew sky-high, throwing both Zim and Gir over by the front door, reducing the kitchen to a smoking hole, and covering nearly every surface with the stinking, tar-like "waffles."

And that's when Dib got home.

When Zim opened his eyes, standing over him was a boy who looked around twelve years old. He wore black boots and pants, and a black trench coat over a blue shirt with a gray, neutral-expression smiley face on the front. He was wearing glasses that had large, round frames which stood out against his pale skin. His hair was black and stood up from his head in a scythe shape.

"Uh… Hi, Dib…" Zim said nervously, pulling on his disguise.

"HIYA, BIG-HEAD! WE MADE WAFFLES!" yelled Gir, who was happily shoving the revolting globs into his mouth.

Dib glanced around at the chaotic ruins of his house before sighing.

"Exactly an hour and a half. I owe Gaz five bucks."

A glob of the "waffles" oozed off the ceiling and hit Dib in the head, covering up the right lens of his glasses. He sighed again before wiping off the muck and trudging wordlessly up the stairs, Zim and Gir watching him the whole way. He had just disappeared upstairs when suddenly his head reappeared in the doorway.

"Oh, and remind me to never, ever invite you to my house EVER again," he said, disappearing back upstairs.

Gir and Zim just stared at each other for a few minutes before Zim finally said something.

"Hmph! Leave it to the Dib to make a big deal out of NOTHING!"

"Mmm-hmm…" agreed Gir, who was still eating the disgusting goo that coated nearly every surface.

"Yeah… Eh, let's go destroy the city."

"YAAAYYY!" Gir screamed, pulling on the doggy costume and attaching his leash.

Thirty seconds later, Gir and Zim were running in the direction of the city, looking forward to more destruction. And so, this story ends how it began.

It was a beautiful day, maybe the most beautiful of the year. The flowers were blooming, the birds were chirping, the air was cool and the temperature was a perfect 70 degrees. The late morning sun hung in the sky above the nameless town as a small green dog dragged and equally green child down the sidewalk.

THE END (?)

Well, that concludes Waffles. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it! Please leave a review, and tell me what you thought, and maybe your favorite part if you had one. :) Also, I would like to mention something. The "beaver incident" idea mentioned in Dib's note is up for grabs. The only requirements for writing are that you have to include the plot points mentioned in the note. But wait! It gets better! There is a reward for doing this daunting (and hopefully hilarious) task! The reward? Well, that's the best part. You get to pick! Now, I will do anything you choose, as long as it is within reason. Meaning, I don't have the time to write a thirty-chapter epic novel, but I will gladly write a story, song, or poem of your choice, topic and specifications, as long as it's kept of an appropriate length. So then, thank you again for taking the time to read this, and I hope it made you laugh or at least smile. So then, that's all for today! Invader ShadowWolf, OUT!