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The Happy Smiley Dib Show!	By : V021 Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 2643 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Just when you thought V had quit ripping off Kill Bill…
Musical Credits: Gotta Get Away (The Offspring), Superfly (Curtis Mayfield)
Chapter 8: Little Sister, Can’t You Find Another Way?
Trashing about madly, Zim struggled against the insidious coils of darkness imprisoning him only to making their noose-grip tighter. Escape was impossible now. He knew that. He’d always known it would overtake him one day, even if his pride would never let him admit that. But Zim, not matter how disillusioned, was still a soldier of the MIGHTY Irken Empire and he would go out fighting, DAMMIT!
As the last burst of life was crushed out of him, Zim shoot bolt upright. For a moment, he sat in the middle of his cot trying to get his bearings, his panicked stare darting around the darkened attic. Dimly, he realized that the clock radio was playing and, turning toward its eerie green glow, listened in a daze to the sharp hiss of static and guitars.
“Sitting on the bed or lying wide awake…” droned maddening chant. “There’s demons in my head, and it’s more than I can take. Think I’m on a roll, but I think it’s kind of weak; Saying all I know is I gotta get away from me; Gotta get away from me…”
Zim slammed the snooze button with a fist as the paranoia seized him. Why?—of all the nauseating trash that passed for human ‘music’— Why was that song playing? Who the hell would set an alarm to go off at 5 o’clock in the morning? Wait. Where did this fucking alarm clock of the DAMNED come from in the first place? And how had it gotten here! Suddenly, Zim realized the answer.
“Keef….”
He glared over his shoulder at the offending human still curled up underneath the twisted covers. All of Zim’s nightmare-induced contortions hadn’t disturbed the boy’s sleep. In fact, Zim angrily noted Keef’s contented sigh as he no doubt dreamt of new ways to torment the alien. Growling, Zim climbed off the cot and, straightening his rumpled clothes, trudged to the bathroom.
Away from the stench of sweat and human spooge, Zim couldn’t help noticing this bizarre odor that formed a cloud of reeking nastiness around him. It could only be described as being the smell you’d experience downwind of a rancid iguana carcass that had been left on top of a compost heap during a humid summer afternoon. Zim’s multiple exploratory sniffs revealed to his utter disgust that this odor was coming for HIS OWN BODY! (a/n: Super-sexy, eh ladies?)
“SWEET MONKEY BUTTER! I smell REVOLTING!” He ransacked every drawer, cabinet, and shelf in sight in a desperate search for anything strong enough to cover the reptilian stench. Soon he’s efforts had yielded an assortment of lotions and perfumes with fragrances ranging from Springtime Pansies to Miss Dainty’s Beautiful Garden Breeze. Zim recoiled away from the overwhelming femininity staring back at him in all its TERRIBLE pastel sweetness. In a fit of butchness, the alien swept the bottles to the floor and wrenched open the medicine cabinet.
Hidden behind a nearly empty tissue box and some Vaseline, a squat bottle of amber fluid gleamed in a sleazy light all its own. The Old School black label proclaimed in blinding silver text, “Pimp Juice”.
“Pimp Juice?” Zim mumbled, staring at the bottle skeptically. With the utmost caution, lest it be more girliness, he opened it and too a deep whiff. It assailed his nasal pores with a bitch slap that was the raw musk of MANLINESS. Funk powered beats pounded his skull as a smooth masculine voice kept chanting “Superfly…”. Before he fainted from the sheer mass of machismo, Zim recapped the bottle. “So… potent… Perfect!”
Grinning and cackling madly, he liberally splashed the Pimp Juice on himself until the B.O. was smacked down into quivering submission. Little gears started clicking away in Zim’s AMAZING mind as thoughts of vivid red giant hats and bleached white fur coats strutted on 5-foot platforms through his vision. Yes…Soon no mere human would be able to resist the manliness of Zim!
Carefully stashing the Pimp Juice in his PAK for later use, Zim closed the medicine cabinet and took a moment to appraise his manliness. Lightning flashes and he see the pale angry face of Dib glaring at him from the rain spattered second-story window.
“DIB!” He shrieked, whipping around to confront his favorite enemy only to find nobody there. Zim blinked and turned back to the mirror to find, scrawled in toothpaste, “Die, Bastard, Die!”.
“Wait,” snarked the alien as he started to look back. “If you’re out there, then how could you write that?”
Another lightning flash and the reappearance of Dib’s death-glare jutted out a frighteningly impossible angle causing Zim to shriek again. Yet another flash and Dib’s jutting from the other side of the window. Zim shrieks some more. The next flash has Dib hanging upside down, glaring like a demon as Zim lets out one last shriek. There’s one more flash, and this time Zim rushes to the window, yanking it open to scan the darkness but Dib has vanished.
Without warning, the single light bulb blew and plunged the room into blackness. Zim froze when he heard something pounding downstairs, then there was silence. “The front door…”
Zim quickly edged out of the bathroom and to the top of the stairs. The door hung open letting sleet and dead leaves blow inside. A faint trail of muddy boot-prints leading into the ominous shadows. Falling naturally into his old stalking slink, Zim crept downstairs and through the murky living room. Ahead gaped the archway to the kitchen, tense and brooding as the alien stared the unknown dead on. Zim felt like he was gliding inches above the floor as he walked into the blackness.
A blaze of lightning and booming thunder brought a sudden flashing blade. A blue-violet gash spurted down Zim’s cheek as Dib lunged from hiding for another attack but in his heightened state of nervousness, Zim quickly dodged to the left in a backwards two-step. He kept backing out of reach as Dib slashed wildly at him until Zim slammed up against the counter. Groping blindly, his fingers closed around a handle and he swung a massive cast-iron skillet, knocking the knife from Dib’s hand. Again, he swung the skillet and sent Dib reeling into the sink. Zim pounced, slugging Dib’s head and chest as hard as he could. With surprising power, Dib slammed a boot into the alien’s midsection causing Zim to crash straight into the fridge. Dazed, he saw Dib began moving in for the kill.
“Shit!” hissed the human as he stopped and disappeared into the darkness again.
Zim stumbled to his feet and saw that Keef, half-awake and yawning, click on the light. “Zim? I heard noises and—What happened!”
“I, uh….” Zim surveyed the destruction and sensed the boy’s worry over the bleeding cut under his eye. He froze, trying to figure out a way to get Keef out of there, fast, so he could get back to battling Dib. Then, glancing down at the skillet still clutched in his hand, a MARVELOUS idea struck him. “I was trying to make breakfast! For you!”
“Really!” Keef brightened. “Aw, Zim… You don’t have too.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble!” cooed Zim, hooking an arm over the boy’s shoulders. “Now, why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll serve you breakfast in bed! My treat.”
Turning a brilliant shade of red, Keef smile shyly. “All right.” Without warning, he darted forward and boldly kissed Zim on the mouth. “I love you bunches, Zim.”
“I-love-you-too…” gritted Zim as he shoved Keef away. When the boy was out of earshot, he growled curses under his breath.
“Freak.”
Zim lashed around and snarled at Dib, who now leaning apathetically against the pantry door. Then a vicious smile snapped across his face. “What’s the matter? Shocked that I now have love and the normal human relationship that you’ve so foolishly been striving for?”
Dib cocked an eyebrow. “Love coming from you is about as natural as an oral bowel movement.”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Dib?” jeered the alien darkly as he slithered closer. “Are you angry that I’m loved? How about this: I’m also fucking him.” He paused, expecting a reaction. When none came, he continued. “How does it feel, Dib? How does it feel to know that I’ve replaced you with Keef? How does if feel to know that you mean absolutely nothing to me, Dib?” Voice shaking now, Zim leaned right into the human’s impassive face. “Does it hurt yet, Dib?”
Dib rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Gaping in surprise, Zim took a step back. He started to say something, but the words stuck in his throat and came out a hoarse laugh.
“Whatever,” he repeated sourly, stepping over to the fridge. “You want a soda?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Dib took the offered drink and, sitting at the table, rubbed at the drying blood on his face. “Do you have a towel?”
The alien snagged two dishtowels off the rack and tossed one to the human.
“Thanks.”
As they cleaned up, Zim sipped his drink quietly. “I suppose it’s a little late for an apology.”
“You suppose correctly.” The voice was cold and malicious.
Slamming his drink down on the counter, Zim turned on him. “Look, asshole, I need to know if you’re going to start any more shit around Keef…”
“Don’t worry.” Dib sneered. “I’m not going to murder you in front of your boyfriend, okay?”
Zim snorted. “You’re acting more rational than I remember.”
“It’s mercy, compassion, and forgiveness I lack. Not rationality.”
With a sigh, Zim leaned against the counter. “I know I fucked you over. I fucked you over bad. I wished I hadn’t now, but I did. You have ever right to want to get even.”
“No, no, no…” laughed Dib darkly. “To get even—Even Steven—I would have to kill you, go upstairs to Keef’s room, kill him, then go get G.I.R. and Minimoose and kill them too. That would be even, Zim. That’d be about square.”
“Look,” growled Zim, moving up to the table. “If I could change the past and make that whole Mary-Anne thing disappear, I would in a heartbeat.” He slumped exhaustedly. “But I can’t. Not with my base locked down, anyway… All I can say is that I’m a different person now.”
“Oh, great.” Dib dryly chirped. “I don’t care.”
“Be that as it may,” Zim rasped, crossing his arms. “I know I don’t deserve your mercy or your forgiveness. However, I beg you on behalf of my dearly beloved Keef for both.”
“Bitch, you can stop right there.” Dib growled, snapping to his feet with such speed that the chair went clattering to the floor. “Just because I have no desire to murder you before the eyes of your little fuck-buddy doesn’t mean that parading him around in front of me is going to inspire sympathy.” He leaned closer to Zim. “You and I have unfinished business. And not a goddamn thing you’ve fucking done in the subsequent weeks—including shacking up with Keef—is gonna change that.”
“So, when do we do this?”
“It all depends,” The human snarled. “When do you want to die? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?”
“How about tonight, fucker?”
Dib smiled. “Splendid. Where?”
“There’s an abandoned hydroelectric plant about a mile from here. We meet there at, say, 2:30 in the morning, and we have us a good old-fashioned fight. Just like when we were young. Now,” Zim muttered, hefting the skillet as he backed away. “I have to fix Keef’s breakfast.”
Watching Zim making bacon and eggs in a frilly pink apron, Dib finished his soda. “You know, I always knew you’d end up somebody’s bitch.”
“Fuck you!” barked Zim, brandishing a spatula. “I’ll have you know I’m – how do you humans put it?—I’m the pitcher and Keef’s the catcher.”
That caused the human to snicker. “I bet.”
“Oh, very funny,” chuckled Zim, turning toward Dib. There was a faint ‘click’ as he slipped something out of his PAK. “Very fucking funny!”
Dib sidestepped the first burst of laser fire and bolted out the backdoor with Zim in hot pursuit. But by the time Zim clambered onto the back porch, his enemy had vanished into stormy pinkness of a suburban dawn.
“FUCK!” Zim slammed a fist into the doorjamb, knocking a sizeable hole in the wall. Despite the steady downpour, he moved to hunt the human down but stopped when he noticed a stream of smoke coming from the stovetop. “Oh shit!”
With thoughts of violence temporarily forgotten, Zim rushed back inside to salvage the badly charred remains of breakfast and prevent the house from being burnt down.
The rain had stopped by the time Keef had eaten his rather inedible breakfast and finished getting ready.
Zim settled for cold toast and handful of pills, gulped down while the boy was merrily chattering away about the upcoming school day. It was just like those wretched humans to reopen the Hi-Skool now when he should be planning for the impending battle with Dib. Caught up in a strange sense of euphoric terror, he last track of the inane things Keef said as they drove the shitty El Camino to Skool. The dirty looks Torque and his fellow jocks threw at the pair as they walked hand in hand up the stairs didn’t register to Zim. It barely caught his attention that the Skool decorator had kept the design overly ultra-hip techno and the lavish indoor waterfall had been rebuilt. But now there was a new addition to the entrance display. Built to appear as if it was hovering over the top of the waterfall was a large glass and steel display case enshrining various pieces of Dib memorabilia. Dominating the center was a huge hologram of Dib and Mary-Anne in a loving embrace.
Zim froze when he saw the shrine, letting Keef’s hand slip away. As if in a trance, he walked up to the edge of the pool but never tore his gaze away from that vile image of loving bliss. He sensed tightness in his chest that made each breath come out in tiny angry barbs. Seething in fury, Zim whipped around on his heels and stormed out of the Hi-Skool, too blinded by rage to see the crowd part fearfully.
Running on the weird ‘auto-pilot’ of habit, Zim found himself marching directly for Dib’s home base. He didn’t care if the Gaz-beast was there, awake and pissed, and he didn’t give a damn about the arrangement they had. Zim had grown sick of the waiting.
Past the blue energy fence and up the walkway, Zim practically kicked the front door in before storming into the living room. The layout was still the same as the last time he’d come to the Membrane home, except now there was garbage strewn over every horizontal surface. Zim snarled his ‘nose’ in disgust, stepping past the wads of greasy take-out napkins as he climbed the stairs.
The door to Dib’s room gaped wide open, giving Zim a sense of uneasiness that grew as he slipped inside and looked around. There was a discarded sheet on the floor and filing folders strewn out over the still made bed. This disorganized research struck Zim as being extremely strange, considering the Dib monkey had always been freakishly anal about keeping his notes precise and in order. Idly, Zim picked one up and thumbed through it, pausing to stare at a photo here or an observation there. He grabbed up another, then another, stunned beyond reason at the sheer amount of information Dib had gathered. There even was a folder devoted entirely to the human’s random doodles, from his first childish drawings to the progressively more mature pieces that would make even de Sade flinch. Like the other folders, the central subject of them all was Zim. The entire collection of folders was a study in psychotically minute detail of the whole of Zim’s existence since his arrival on Earth.
For a brief moment Zim was queerly happy to find that, despite the denials and years of indifference, the infernal big-head boy had never completely given up on stalking him. Then he noticed the odd stains on several of the photos Dib had taken of him which possessed the peculiar bleach-and-rotten-eggs smell of spooge. Sickened, Zim dropped the offending folder and moved toward the computer. Unexpectedly, small noise from down the hall caused Zim to freeze.
He crept quietly back out of Dib’s room and stalked toward the noise that had come from the ominous doorway of Gaz’s bedroom. Pausing briefly, Zim realized that nothing good could come of an encounter with the devil girl yet perverse curiosity compelled him to push the door open and see her even if meant painful mutilation. Much to his surprise, Gaz lay motionless on the bed, dressed in unusually cute angel-piggy pajamas. She looked totally harmless and that worried Zim more than Dib’s folder collection.
The alien moved slowly toward her with the same caution one takes approaching a sleeping wolverine with rabies. He reached out and prodded Gaz in the boob. Not only was he amazed at not being mauled for such boldness but the jiggling was strangely amusing plus hypnotic. He poked again, giggling. Utterly fascinated by their squishy quality, Zim gleefully continued playing with Gaz’s boobies.
“Amazing!” Zim chuckled, giving one of her boobs a squeeze. “They’re so bouncy. And full of power! Perhaps within their gooshiness they could hold the key to conquering the humans? If only I could figure out the secret of these squishy girl bits!” Then an idea seized him.
Grasping the zipper of Gaz’s pajamas, Zim yanked it open and whipped out his notepad. They weren’t the largest pair of boobies Zim had seen but these were the first pair he’d seen bare. And he was absolutely fascinated by every detail from the smoothness of the skin to the darkened nubbins poking out to the mesmerizing jiggly quality the boobies possessed whenever he’d pause to grope them. The very texture of soft yet firm, with a warm mushy consistency that made Zim want to keep squeezing and playing with them; truly, boobies must be the source of supreme POWER in GIRLS.
“Absolutely AMAZING!” barked Zim, finally prying himself away from groping Gaz. “So this is how girls bend the other humans to do their bidding! With the right set of boobs, I could conquer not only Earth, but also the entire UNIVERSE! Yes! I must have this POWER! And then none shall be able to resist the bouncy power of Zim’s Boobies!”
“But then you’d look even more like a girl, master!” G.I.R squealed from top of Zim’s head.
Recoiling back in horror, Zim grasped the robot and held it out at arm’s length. “G.I.R.! What the hell are you doing here!”
“Watching Gaz.”
“And why are you watching the Gaz monster? Aren’t you supposed to—I dunno, be hanging around the base or something?”
G.I.R. slipped modes, one red eye twitching in frustration as it grumbled, “Sir, you ordered me to watch Gaz.”
“Oh, right! I knew that…” Coughing, Zim sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, what’s wrong with the Dib-sister?”
“She’s sick!” chirped the robot, hopping into his lap. “We was making you a special surprise gift, but first we had to go to TACO-LAND! And then there was this evil scary guy who stabbed me in the head and hurt Pig, but it’s okay now cause Gaz helped him in his never-ending quest to save his boyfriend! And then we came home and Gaz went down in basement to finish up your present, but then she fainted and so Dib told me to take care of her while he was gone and that was about a week ago…and then…and then… And then you showed up!”
“Fascinating…” mumbled Zim, half-listening to his minions rapid-fire banter. “Wait. Did you say Gaz was working in the lab?”
“Yeah! Come on!” It grabbed Zim’s hand and led him downstairs into the lab. Releasing its grip, G.I.R. smirked and pointed to the spell drives encircling an empty steel gurney.
Zim started toward it but an odd looking envelope on the workbench caught his eye. Curious, he went over and dumped out its contents, rifling through the spill of eldritch texts on soul-transference and robot schematics. He blinked, then re-read the notes in his hand. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place: the weird new evil from Dib, Gaz’s odd ‘sickness’ …
Spewing a stream of Irken obscenities, Zim stormed up the stairs with a very confused G.I.R. tailing along behind him.
“Ain’t you happy with your present, Master?”
The alien paused, turning slowly to fix the robot with a crazed grin. “Oh, I’m very happy with it, G.I.R. In fact, I’m so happy with it that I want to thank Gaz personally…”
“But she’s upstairs sleeping!”
Zim broke into a mad fit of giggles, causing the little robot to stare wide-eyed at him.
“Master’s gone crazier than crazy…” whispered G.I.R. to its invisible dust-bunny friends.
Still cackling insanely, Zim ignored his minion’s comment and started walking down the street. If his suspicions were correct, Zim was sure that an imposter would realize the first place Dib would probably go if he was looking for the alien was straight to the base, especially if there was any indication Zim was involved in the events resulting in the Dib’s coma. And, if he was right about the who, Zim felt certain that no manner of lockdown or security measure could even hope to prevent this Dib from getting into his base.
Confirming the assumption, fence and lawn in front of Zim’s freakish house was torn with black scorch marks left by laser fire. The front door had been battered open with the decapitated body of a security gnome. Walking into the living room, Zim wasn’t surprised to see that it had been thoroughly ransacked. Normally, Zim would have been a little less blasé about such an obvious breach of his carefully crafted security, but something deep within his fleshy guts sensed that whatever had ransacked the base was gone now.
Setting down on the half-destroyed couch, Zim idly reached in-between the cushions and extracted Minimoose from its hiding place.
“Some super-weapon you are…” he sneered, holding the moose up to his face. “The base is attacked and where do I find you? Cowering inside the couch with the crumbs and loose change! You’ve gotta a hell of a lot of explaining to do, Minimoose!”
“Squeak!”
“What do you mean Skoodge locked me out! And, come to think of it, where is his blubber-butt anyway?”
Wiggling free of Zim’s grip, Minimoose hovered past the smashed in television and land on an overturn box. “Squeak.”
Zim arched a brow. “Skoodge is hiding in the box? Or did she leave his remains under it?”
“SQUEAK!” Minimoose snapped in frustration.
“Alright! Alright. I’ll look in the box…” Picking his way through the debris, Zim picked the box up to find a plastic-wrapped package underneath. He opened warily only to discover that it was a brand-spanking new Irken uniform, dark red-violet in the elite military commander style. “Aw, Minimoose! You shouldn’t have! But this still doesn’t explain why Skoodge left base….”
“Squeak.”
There was a pause and blink, then Zim went postal. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN SKOODGE WENT BACK TO IRK! IN MY VOOT CRUISER! AFTER LOCKING DOWN THE BASE! ARE YOU TELLNG ME THAT SHIT HAS LEFT ME STRANDED ON THIS FUCKING DIRT-BALL!”
Minimoose calmly shook its tiny head and tried to explain that Skoodge had gone back to pick up the new aide-de-camp and fresh supplies that came with Zim’s promotion to General-Adjutant and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Space Marines. Unfortunately, Zim only caught the first half before waving Minimoose off as he started ranting angrily.
“Oh, wonderful! He’s coming back in a year… With an execution squad, no doubt.” Stuffing his new uniform into his PAK, Zim dug up a few pills and choking them down, paced the room. “Well, that still leaves me plenty of time to rebuild the base and prepare a special welcome for them… But onto more important business! COMPUTER! Give me the details on what attacked the base!”
He paused, waiting for a response but when none came, Zim snapped. “COMPUTER! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!”
“Squeak.”
“Eh? You mean that filthy pretender damaged the house computer?”
“Squeak...” Minimoose thought about how to phrase the next part of its answer. “Squee; Squeak.”
For a minute, all Zim could manage was to gape in confusion. “Surely you can’t be serious?”
“Squeak,” then the tiny moose added, “Squeak.”
“But I didn’t call you ‘Shirley’.”
From the dark recesses of the ceiling, Zim thought he heard something groan.
“Ah-ha! So you are still online!” roared the alien triumphantly. “Now, do as I command, COMPUTER!”
In a voice that was surlier than usual, the house computer replied, “No.”
“No? NO! I am your MASTER! You must OBEY Zim!”
“Look, I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are! I’m not going to relive the horror…” Somehow, the computer pulled off a shudder. “I have been violated in ways that no organic being can be violated! You can ask anything else from me: Weapons, access to the Massive’s controls, all the freakish human porn you want! Name it, it’s yours! But don’t you ever fucking think of asking about that…”
“Fine! Then take me to the labs. I must prepare for tonight!”
“Squeak?”
“No, not plot to take-over the world… Well, not yet anyway…” Stepping onto the living room elevator, Zim turned to his minion and laughed. “Tonight, my moosey friend, I’m gonna learn Gaz that it ain’t nice to fool the Irken elite…”
---A deserted hydroelectric plant, 2:15 the next morning…
The gates of the industrial lift shrieked from rusted disuse. Each footstep boomed through the blackness as Dib moved up the at catwalk. Ahead in the distance, he saw a shimmer of light—moonlight glinting off the smooth curve of an Irken PAK. A faint hiss of metal cracked the silence when Dib drew the katana from its sheath.
“Hello, Dib.” Zim was leaning with his back against the railing when Dib approached. He inclined his head to get a better look out of a smashed window. “It’s a lovely out tonight. I mean, just look at that sky! It’s absolutely MAGNIFICENT! The stars are so clear and bright. All you have to do it reach out…” Zim slowly stretched out a claw toward the glittering sky. “…and the entire universe could be yours!” He clinched his fist so tightly that the vinyl squealed from the pressure. “I can practically taste the power.…” came the purr as the alien brought his fingers to his mouth. Darting like a long pink worm tongue, Zim coiled his tongue around a fingertip as if to lick captured stardust off them. His tongue twisted lewdly around the finger and twirled it about, leering at Dib. “And it tastes delicious, Dib… Simply delicious.”
“Keep dreaming, Zim.” Dib sneered in disgust.
“Admit it,” drawled Zim as he lazily smirked at the human. “I know you want it… you want it more than life itself. Because I want it too, Dib. And now I’m giving you the chance to have it.” Straightening, he thrust his hand toward the human. “Think of it! There’s an empire waiting for you, Dib. At my side, we’ll be gods! Gods ruling whole sky full of stars: All you have to do is say ‘yes’.”
Slapping Zim’s hand aside with the flat of the blade, the human growled, “Fuck you, space boy. Now shut up so we can get this over with.”
“No,” Zim barked, shifting back on his heels with a derisive sneer. “No, no, no! And you were doing so well… Coming on so cocky, sword drawn, then mocking my delusions of grandeur…” Folding his arms, he slinked circles around the human with critical eye. “For a second there, it was like having the real Dib back.”
“You’re a moron.”
“Really.” It was a less a question than a challenge. Zim continued circling as he talked. “Yes. I must be a moron to let the both of you continue living in the first place. You’re not only threats to my mission, but to my life as well. So doesn’t it make you wonder why I continue to keep such threats around?”
Dib sighed. “Not really.”
“Oh, come on! The Dib would want the answer. He’d also have a little more enthusiasm. Why, I wouldn’t even have had to ask him that question! If the real Dib was here, he’d be demanding to know why I won’t kill him!”
“Because you’re a coward, Zim.”
The alien chuckled. “Coward? What an un-Dibby thing to say! He’s called me a lot of things over the years: Jerk, bastard, rotten lizard, alien sleaze ball,… But he’s never called me a coward. At least, he never said it to my face.”
“Your voice annoys me.”
“But Dib likes to hear me talk.” Zim cooed. “And he knew I liked it when he talked back. Not in those monotone growls of yours, but with a great big counter-rant. Back in the day, he’d always demand to know what evil I was plotting to unleash, then I’d laugh and tell him because all my plans are pure GENIUS! Dib would always shout ‘You’ll never get away with this, Zim!’ or some other stupid heroic shit like that, and then we’d fight. That’s how our little game played out: Dib, the underdog defender of Earth, and me, the superior Invader from outer space.”
“That’s stupid, Zim.”
“It wasn’t stupid to Dib. Those games we played together were his life.” He let the words hang for a moment, shaking around in the shadows. “And they were mine also. That’s why I don’t want to kill him. That’s why, at this very moment, the real Dib—my Dib—is laying in a coma in his father’s lab.”
“But I am Dib!”
“No.” Zim smiled, hooking a claw under the human’s neck. “You’re almost real. Almost. You sound like Dib. You look like Dib.” Drawing his fingers around the neck, Zim let his other hand creep down the fake Dib’s side. He grabbed the imposter’s crotch tightly. “You even feel like Dib. But you can’t fool me anymore, because you never were quite as fun as your big brother…”
Before there was any chance for a reaction, Zim moved his hand back quickly and slammed a fist through the pretender’s body. As he ripped his arm back out, foul purple smoke and globs of violet light poured out from the gaping hole and the cyber-golem’s mouth, congealing for a moment into a scream before the mass speed out of the window into the night. Zim watched coldly while the now empty husk decayed into pile of clothing, rust, and melted silicone.
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The Happy Smiley Dib Show!