IZ Story: Temper, Temper!
Chapter One: Oh, the Joy. -- REWRITE!!!
Disclaimer: WHY DO I OWN NOTHING?! Oh wait, that's why -- I'm sixteen and have yet to come up with anything worth-while, intelligent, and interesting. *Sigh*
A.N.: Today -- the eighth of March -- officially marks the day that I had turned sixteen, one week ago.
Yeah. I can't believe that I've survived this long either.
Who knew that I had L337 5URV1V4L 5K1LL5, eh?! XD
Anyway, to commemorate such a "special" event (which truly meant nothing to anyone, I must say), I have come up with…well, this. First IZ fanfic here. Flames shall be used to roast great, magnificent marshmallows that will quickly eat all H473R5 and help me with my kick-ass plans of world domination.
3NJ0Y. 8D
(And yes. I speak L337.)
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"Zim! Zim! Open this door!" Dib shouted as he gave the unyielding entrance a heavy kick.
Behind said door, Zim almost toppled from the stepladder he stood upon, for he had been leaning against it to peer out of the miniscule peephole to investigate why Dib would be here, but without giving up the fact that he was, actually, home. (Why a peephole you may ask? Because someone had wanted to see what would happen to the two-way mirror in its technology if the mainframe controlling it were fed candy.)
"I KNOW you're in there, Zim! I can hear the television!"-- the short Irken turned for a moment to glare at GIR for that -- "Now let. Me. IN!" the paranormal extremist annunciated, banging on the purple metal with a fist for every one of the last words spoken, breaking the skin.
Bringing his hand back to his side, his breathing run ragged, the boy rolled his eyes as he heard a surprised yelp and a loud crash from within the house. Clearly, the alien hadn't anticipated the force of his enemy's blows.
"That's it, Zim. I've shown respect for your privacy long enough! I'm coming in whether you invite me to or not!" With that, Dib grasped the knob to the men's restroom-type door with his unharmed left hand and slammed his body into its surface, sliding both the crumpled ladder and a poorly disguised Zim across the floor.
"Fine. You can come in," the extraterrestrial snarled from underneath the broken panels of wood as he glowered up at the Dib-beast. "Now help me up, dirt-child," he added, thrusting his hand into the other's face.
Again, Dib rolled his eyes in annoyance, but complied with the command as best he could nonetheless.
Once on his feet and he had dusted off his clothes, Zim opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a terrifyingly shrill voice from the couch.
"HI, FRieND OF MasTAH!" GIR screeched giddily from his "post".
"GIR! How DARE you tell such lies! LIES!!" he exclaimed, horrified at the thought. "I ORDER you to take that back!"
"O-kaY!" the robot squealed, but said and did nothing short of turning back to the TV, saying quite dreamily "I lOVe dis shooowwW," and turning back to Dib with the very same greeting as before.
"GIR!"
"Sir," the computer drawled, its monotonic voice emanating from the walls, "You cannot truly believe that the idiotic, defective SIR will do as you tell it to, do you?"
"Insolent little-- I KNOW THAT!!" Zim seethed at the snarky machinery.
"I lOVe dis shooowwW," GIR said again blissfully as he watched his lord yell at the ceiling in general.
The invader sighed, bored of this already. "Alright then, Dib, since I know you're not here to spy on Zim -- you would never be THAT obvious," he spat coldly, "I have to ask: What do you want? It is not an Earth-human custom for enemies to knock down each other's doors at eleven o'clock in this planet's dark-time, is it? Oh, Irk!-- I don't think I could survive that!" At this newfound (but thankfully false) information, his pseudo-eyes grew wide and fearful. While sleep was not exactly necessary for one of his species, it was a nice frivolity that he had discovered to be helpful to relieving the (GIR-related and induced) stress of the day.
"No…it's not a custom," Dib answered, for once not bothering with his usual dose of grief-giving sarcasm. "I really came by to…"
Zim raised a nonexistent (but still very suspicious) eyebrow at his nemesis. Dib, THE Dib, actually talking to him as if there were no rivalries between them? Impossible! A red flag instantly shot up in his mind, but he ignored it for the moment.
"Really ca-came by to…uh…" he stuttered, and his visage was pinched slightly in concentration, as if he was trying to remember why he was standing in this celestial creature's doorway.
What?! Dib, repeating himself? Stuttering? Finding difficulty in coming up with a response? Three more crimson colored banners sprang to life as he watched the boy think and sway, then a forth as he realized the motion with conscious eyes.
"I-I was wondering if I could -- because last week I was -- because apparently my dad thinks that I'm -- which isn't true!-- and -- and -- I'm dizzy…." All this the human said in a rush, one thought, barely formed, being pushed out and trampled over by another thought, before he began to fall face-first toward the floor.
Had Zim been standing a few inches further away, Dib surely would have hit the ground, but as it were, he instead landed in the gloved arms that caught him out of instinct. Zim, still staring at the place where the teen should have still stood, promptly dropped him after a second of holding his limp body, and a thud was heard as his countenance was so kindly planted into the tile.
Then, just as casually as if he did this every day, he stepped over the Dib-stink and closed the door just as a sprinkling of deathly rain began to fall.
"I lOVe dis shooowwW," GIR sighed while the green "adolescent" walked over to the sofa (this time indifferently traipsing on his visitor's back) and plopped down. Having decided to completely ignore the sixteen-year-old that was now practically drooling on his terrazzo, he settled in to watch "The Scary Monkey Show", jacking some of the automaton's sugar-coated, invader-styled popcorn whenever he felt like it. But, before he could be sucked into the oh-so-intriguing plot of a frightening, growling primate, he had a pressing question to ask of the base's processor.
"Computer," he called sharply.
"Whaaaaaaaattt?" it reacted in aggravation.
"Why did you not annihilate the intruding Dib-thing?" he couldn't help but snarl as he continued to glare at the chimp-riddled screen before him.
If it could have, the system would have rolled its eyes. Not having any, it alternatively said, "Because he could hardly be called an 'intruder' with that kind of racket…sir," it added, its voice quite snide for something that should scarcely even know the meaning of the word.
"Fine, whatever," Zim snorted, and with a wave of his hand, said dismissively, "I have no more questions. You may go back to doing…nnh, whatever it is you do when I have no need of you."
"You mean creating unexplainable malfunctions that take you weeks to figure out how to fix?"
"I knew it," he hissed, his claws curling into a ferocious fist of fury. Then, "Yes, yes, that then, go do that. I'll attempt to deal with the wreckage later."
"With pleasure!" the supercomputer replied devilishly, going off to find a certain, delicate, online experiment that had taken Zim a year to set up so it could tamper with the file(…and possibly destroy it in its wake).
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A.N. 2: Aaaaahhhhh, Invader Zim. Who DOESN'T love that show? XD
Now, this is kind of sad…: It took me two freakin' days to write four pages worth of fanfiction in one of my notebooks. Gah!-- That is redonkulous.
Anyway, I rather much enjoyed doing this, and I hope y'all enjoyed reading it. I'm not going to order anything from any of you (because I do intend to finish this), but methinks that I would be eternally grateful if at least a few of you reviewed this. It gives me GIR-hyperistic-type ego-boosts. XD
Also, please go ahead and take my reader poll on my bio page. That would help me to decide which of my (very many) fanfics I should continue with first. Please and thank you! :D
Forever lovez and kissez~! *mwah!* :3