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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Nothing much to say about this chapter, so I’ll give you a little explanation behind Zim’s booby grabbing episode last chapter. See, I have a Gay Best Friend who is absolutely awed by breasts and he has a habit of poking his gal pals in the boob. He and I both have come to the conclusion that it’s the very jiggly nature of the boobies that causes this strange, regression into hetero behavior. And can’t you smell the sarcasm in that last part?

Chapter 9: Too Late for Apologies
Gaz woke up screaming. For a moment there, she was certain that she was going to die but the wrath within her heart gave her the strength to endure. There remained unfinished business and Zim must pay.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a short break before going to tear out some alien guts.
Exhausted, Gaz collapsed back onto the pillows and mulled the confrontation over. Surely Zim couldn’t have figured out it was her animating the Dib golem. He wasn’t supposed to be that smart. But she’d pretty much left his base computer a sniveling pile of terrified A.I., so Zim couldn’t have gotten information there. As much as she grudgingly like G.I.R., Gaz had known from the beginning that the little robot would tell its master anything it learned and had gone to great lengths to keep G.I.R. from founding out her plans.
Could it have been the golem itself? No. She’d made damn sure that it was an exact duplicate of Dib, from every stupid piece of hair right down to her brother’s annoying voice. It was so perfect a copy that Gaz felt more than a little creeped out just looking at the thing. When she had taken possession of it, Gaz thought she was acting just like Dib would: Hunt Zim down like a dog and carve him into tiny Zim-pieces.
So why the hell did Zim try coming onto him like a drunken cheerleader? If she’d been Dib—wait—she had been Dib at the time; she would’ve killed Zim in the most slow and painful ways conceivable for touching her like that! And Gaz did what she believed Dib would have done, which was to leave his slimy green carcass splattered across the countryside. She knew her brother had a major hard-on for the alien, but she felt pretty sure that Dib wouldn’t forget his dumb sense of duty to protect Earth for a cheap fuck. Besides, weren’t they supposed to be enemies!
“There’s an empire waiting for you… At my side, we’ll be gods…”
Gaz wanted to believe that it was just another one of Zim’s tricks, a distraction. If that was all, then why did it sound so sincere? Never before had she experienced Zim being so frank, so recklessly honest. Thinking of that deranged yet hopeful look in his eyes with such a strange mixture of hatred and respect in the alien’s voice left Gaz stunned.
The stupid bastard was serious! Zim really believed that Dib—the real one; the Dib he’d tired to murder—that her brother would forsake everything—EVERY-FUCKING-THING he’d worked for since he’d been in diapers— just to be with Zim!
“Dirty old man…” Gaz sneered, swinging herself up and out of bed. She noticed that her pajamas were unzipped. Glancing down at the naked skin, she caught a glimpse of a red scratch mark on her breast. Gaz whipped open her top and stared in horror at her chest completely covered in scratches and deep, three-fingered bruises. In rage and disgust, she hurriedly dressed and jerked out the .44 revolver kept hidden in her nightstand. It had been a birthday present from her darling cousin Pepito, for any “personal business” she might have. And Zim had just made things between them very personal indeed.
Stashing it in her waistband, Gaz grabbed up her keys and her baseball bat. She had her hand on the doorknob when someone rang the bell. She froze, waiting for whoever it was to just leave, but after the fifth buzz Gaz wrenched it open with a death glare.
“Sorryforwakingyouatsuchagodawfulhourbutisthisyourdog?” came the rapid squeak as a pair of hands thrust G.I.R. in her face, its dog suit coated in a sticky layer of candied muck.
Growling, Gaz grabbed the grinning robot by the scruff of its neck and stared down the kid standing rather uneasily on the front step. He was scrawny and dressed like a convenience store clerk, which was rather odd since he looked a barely fifteen, the same age as her. Then a spark of recognition hit her.
“Hey, you’re Squee, right?”
“My name’s really Todd, but you can call me anything Gaz…” he sighed in a dreamy little voice.
Gaz smiled and blushed. “Okay, Todd.”
G.I.R. wriggled out of Gaz’s grip and squished off into the house, leaving them to stare at each other in an awkward state of silence. Finally, the silence broke in a pair of nervous coughs.
“Um, I’ve gotta go kill somebody…” Gaz muttered, sliding past Squee and quickly clambered into the car.
She seriously expected see him fleeing down the street like any sane person would, but he was still there, calmly watching her whip out of the driveway and race down the deserted streets. But that oddness of seeing the boy again was soon forgotten as she sped up the twisting back-roads to finish off Zim, keeping pace with the thick black storm billowing across the star-splattered sky.
Pulling up to the plant’s entrance, Gaz readied herself for anything Zim may have planned. She started for the doors but when a shadow darting over the dam caught her eye, Gaz turned and quietly made her way out onto the exterior catwalk. Halfway out over the water with the metal groaning under her weight, she paused for breath and chanced a look up.
In a small boom of lightning, she saw Zim perched on top of a nearby pylon, staring at her with an annoyed frown.
“You’re late,” he yawned, lightly hopping to his feet.
“RAGH!” Enraged, Gaz grabbed an abandoned wrench lying near her foot and hurled it toward the alien. To her shock, Zim caught it in one hand and easily twisted the wrench into a knot before tossing it back.
“This best you got? You’re not even trying!” He reared back then leapt off the pylon. The catwalk rattled dangerously when he landed. “I know you can do better than that… ”
Whipping out the revolver, Gaz blindly fired but only managed to graze Zim’s shoulder before the gun jammed. “Fuck!” She chucked it aside and lunged for Zim wielding her baseball bat. Metal groaned and shuddered dangerously while Gaz attacked the alien. Still, while Zim managed to avoid being pummeled to death, she did manage to land a few good hits and shatter three of his spider legs in the process. Raging now beyond the point of madness, she swung as hard as she possibly could for Zim’s face only to have him grab hold and use the force to spin her off balance. Gaz ended up flipping over the thin railing into a swift fall toward the murky reservoir below, but before she hit the water tentacles wrapped tightly around her body. She kicked and struggled as Zim dragged her back up.
“Now this is the Gaz I remember!” sniped the alien, leaning right in her face. “Vindictive, stubborn, and with one hell of an anger management problem… So, how does it feel knowing that you PATHETIC plans of vengeance have ended in utter failure? Of course, you should expect that, little Gaz. You do realize that you never had a chance at defeating the likes of me. Why, I saw through your miserable Dib-bot the very moment you conceived it! Because you see Gaz, no matter what you try, no matter how bloodthirsty your plots, no matter how evil you become, you’ll never be my rival.”
“Look, if you want to torture me, rape me, kill me, do it!” Gaz hissed. “But if this gloating shit continues just shoot me now please.”
Zim stared at her oddly. “Rape you? Ha! Don’t flatter yourself, human. It makes me sick just touching you.”
“Then why did you feel me up?”
“LIES! I never ‘felt’ anything of your disgusting body!” Zim shrieked, shaking her violently. “Besides, even if I did do such a thing—which I would NEVER do— you have no proof.”
She half-opened one eye. “There’re bruises on my chest, you’re a biastophiliac pervert alien psycho on a powertrip, and G.I.R. couldn’t guard a paper bag. That enough proof for you, asshole?”
Zim glared at her then angrily chucked Gaz back onto the catwalk. When she started to get up, he deployed his remaining spider leg and pinned her. He knelt down next to her with an odd grin on his face.
“Tell me something, Gaz,” Zim asked in a cracking voice. “How well do you know Dib?”
Gaz glared up at the alien, a little confused by the sudden shift in conversation, then spat, “Better than you ever will.”
“Really?” He chuckled a little. “Then I suppose you knew that the girl was a sexbot, right Gaz? I only found that out after I ripped her open and found that she was…eh, ‘fully-functional’.” Zim paused, letting the implications sink in. “You look a bit surprised, Gaz. If you know your brother so well, then why didn’t you notice how miserable he had become? Come to think of it, can you even remember the last time you talked with Dib? What was the last thing he said to you? Come on! Tell me. I’d really like to know, Gaz. Oh, and please be honest or else…” He pressed the point a little harder into her stomach.
Gaz stared blankly at the alien. Practically half a year had gone by since she and Dib had last spoken to each other, and then it was a short and brutish argument about her brother’s fucking hang-ups. She remembered everything that had been said, especially Dib’s slip about Zim.
“Why do you care?” she hissed.
“That’s what you said?”
“No. I’m asking you a question, Zim.” If there hadn’t been the threat of immediate impalement, Gaz probably would have slapped him for being stupid. “So, why the fuck do you care about what Dib did or said? You’re enemies, right? It shouldn’t matter to you who or what he was fucking around with.”
Zim suddenly began laughing so hard that he fell back against the railing.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Gaz leapt to her feet but halted dealing out the righteous fury when she noticed the ominous way the catwalk shook beneath them. For the first time, she noticed how rusted and decrepit the metal holding them was. In fact, it was a miracle that the catwalk hadn’t collapsed when she had stepped on it.
“Uh, could we hurry this up?” she barked suddenly, eager to move the fight to stable ground.
Hauling himself up, the alien finally got control of himself and grinned nastily at her. “Oh, poor stupid little Gaz. You just don’t get it, do you? If you want to play the game, you have to follow the rules. And Rule no.1 is that we do not rush the witty repartee.”
“Fine.” She winced as the catwalk shuddered under foot. “We’re done bantering. Now could you shut up and fight?”
“Silly girly-girl,” he chuckled, moving toward her in a nerve jarring stomp. “I still have to answer your question. You do want an answer, don’t you?”
“Look, just forgot it! I don’t give a damn why you’re so interested in Dib!”
“But you asked me a question, Gaz! It’s only fair that I give you answers…” Barely inches separated Zim from Gaz. “Now, you wanted to know why I care so much about the Dib? You really want to know?” He paused, leaning in smiling crazily and tears welling up in his twitching eye. “Because I’ve fallen—”
Without warning, the catwalk snapped apart, sending both Gaz and Zim plunging toward a watery death. In a feat of comic book-style luck, Gaz manages to grab hold of a dangling piece of railing with her left hand while Zim locked her other arm in a death grip.
“Dammit! Let go, you bastard!” she roared as she strained to hang on.
“Like hell!” came the ever-clever retort as Zim dug his claws deeper into her arm.
Summoning up an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, Gaz pulled herself up just enough to wrap her legs around the railing like a hell-spawned koala while it bucked and twisted in a fierce gust of wind. She strained to keep her grip while Zim’s weight began to pull her arm out of socket. “Why don’t you just climb up already!” snarled Gaz in frustration.
“How the hell am I supposed to do that!” the alien hissed back. “If I let go, I’ll fall!”
“Can’t you use those tentacles of yours, dumbass!”
“Oh, right! I forgot I had those…” Seizing upon her suggestion, Zim deployed the tentacles and completely bound the lower half of Gaz’s arm to his. “Now there’s no way for you to escape!”
The railing sank lower under the weight.
“You fucking jerk! You’re going to kill both of us!”
“That’s the idea, Gaz!” Zim laughed.
Gaz stared for a moment at the madness smiling up at her, and then pulled out the knife hidden in her sleeve. Without hesitation, she reared back and started frantically slicing at her elbow until the flesh ripped apart. Her screams of pain wear drowned out by the shrieking wind and Zim’s roaring laughter as he plunged into the water. With one last shudder, the railing finally gave way and sent Gaz into what she thought would be her last free fall.
She never expected someone to swing out from nowhere and catch her just in the nick of time.
“…fuck!” gasped the mysterious hero as he landed on the ledge and twisted his ankle. He managed to keep hold of Gaz and, hopping on his good foot, lean her up against the wall. Muttering reassurances that “everything will be okay” and “I’ll get you to a hospital”, the mysterious hero clumsily ripped apart his work shirt to bandage her arm.
Through the swooning haze brought on by beginnings of shock, Gaz forced a smile. “Squee…?” she murmured before blacking out.
A week later…
G.I.R. cheerfully rode its newly jacked breakfast cart full speed down the hall until it crashed through the door to Gaz’s room. The little robot lay sprawled out on the floor where it had fallen in a mess of hospital food, giggling madly.
Gaz never looked up from the GameSlave2, still trying to get use to her new bionic hand, but she let out a bemused groan. Aside from catching up on a backlog of video games, G.I.R.’s moronic antics were the only enjoyable thing in her life lately. She gave up on her ‘physical therapy’ and turned to watch the crazy metal fool.
“Mornin’, Gaz! I’ve gots eggs in my brain!” came the chirp as G.I.R. scooped a large handful of yellow scrambled glop off its face before shoving the wad into its mouth. “You wants to eat my brains?”
“No. But thanks for offering.” She settled back into the rather overstuffed bed. “Anything new going on outside?”
“Yeah! Lots and lots of stuff! Like, there’s a new squirrel in the yard that eats the beagles with the creamy-creamy cheese, and the monkey was dancing with the magical wienies yesterday, and that boy that’s all squeaky gave me bunches of free Brainfreezies…oh, and Master sent you this!” Reaching into its head, G.I.R. pulled out a flat panel screen bearing a smiling Irken logo and handed it over to Gaz.
“Is it a bomb?” Gaz muttered as she studied the panel warily.
The robot simply shrugged, then pulled out its piggy.
“Hey G.I.R., do you mind getting me a soda? Dad still being stupid and won’t let me leave the room, but since the only decent vending machine is all the way downstairs…”
“As you wish, sir!” barked the robot as it leapt into duty mode and barreled out on a new mission.
Satisfied that G.I.R. is safely out of earshot, Gaz clicked the screen on and was greeted by a smirking if extremely haggard looking Zim.
“Ah, so we met again, Gaz-beast!” he blusters then starts hacking abruptly. Breathless, he recovers and continues with his posturing. “As you can see, not only did I survive our last battle but I am thriving. While you have been laying back in you filthy glut of victory, I have been busily working on a new plan that is so wicked, so brilliantly diabolical that your pathetic brains shall implode from the AWESOMENESS of my evil genius! BEHOLD!”
Running over to a sheet-covered pedestal, Zim wipes away the covering to reveal…
“A Tickle-me-Hellmo?” Gaz hisses, cracking open one eye.
Zim puffed up with pride. “Yes! I plan on selling these disgusting doll-monsters to the frolicking dirt-children.”
“And that’s your master plan? Exploiting moronic toy fads?”
“Oh, you mock me now, little Gaz! But, when the human children go to probe Hellmo ticklish belly meats, they’ll trigger the miniature nuclear greavelven device hidden inside! Once the devices are activated, the resultant explosions shall set off a series of catastrophic earthquakes which will shatter the Earth into a billon chunks of space garbage!”
“That plan is stupid.”
“Eh! How can that be!” shrieked Zim as he grabbed up the hideous toy icon. “You humans love the TICKLE-ME-HELLMO DOLL!”
Gaz rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it was pretty popular… Five years ago. Nowadays, you can’t give those fucking things away.”
He glared at her then at the doll in his hands, shifting back and forth several beats. “So, you’re saying that none of the dirt children want these things?”
“Yeah.”
“And that they won’t poke its belly meats to trigger the explosions?”
“That’s what I said.”
Letting out an angry huff, Zim chucked the Hellmo over his shoulder. “Clever, Gaz. Keep this up, and someday you might be as worthy an adversary as your brother…”
“Fuck that.” Gaz snapped. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you turn me into a fucking replacement for Dib!”
“Ha! You, an equal to the Dib! As if you could ever fill his enormous head-space!”
“Okay, there’s just so much grammatically wrong with that it’s not even funny, Zim.”
The alien sneered. “Well excuse me! The Earther upgrade wasn’t exactly standard for my translator.”
“It’s called English, dumb fuck. Got anything else?”
“Not really… Wait! I do have something to say!” Grinning broadly, Zim wiped an invitation out of his PAK and waved it triumphantly in front of the camera. “I am taking Keef to this PROM ritual. You’ll note that participating in this primitive rite of passage with a ‘date’ is the only way you pathetic teenage humans can prove your worth within your horrible society. And, seeing that you remain ‘single’, this means that I am once again VICTORIOUS. You see, Gaz, you may have won the battle, but it is Zim who has won the war!”
Gaz stared at him like he was a total moron. “Your prom date is Keef? Zim, do you realize what’s going to happen when you show up with a guy?”
“I know, I know. I’ll have to put up with an evening’s worth of Keef’s stupid romantics, but it’s worth it to keep up my MAGNIFICENT cover as yet another dumb worm-boy.”
Gaz started to tell Zim that football team would lynch him in a fit of self-loathing and homophobia, but then she realized that this was Zim she was talking too and no amount of logic could hope to penetrate his thickened ignorance of human society. Instead, she shrugged. “I really don’t give a shit about the prom, Zim. Now, if you don’t have something important to say, there’s a stack of Bloody Gutzenstein Ultra waiting from me and I’d like to get back to my game…”
“Very well, Gaz.” Zim rasped threateningly. “Play your games. But know that by the time you finish with your digital rampage that I shall have conquered the UNIVERSE and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”
“Whatever.” With that, she turned off the screen and crammed it under her mattress right as her father came waltzing into the room.
“Greetings, daughter! How are you feeling today?” asked Professor Membrane, busily checking the status read-outs next to her bed.
“Fine, dad. My fingers are still a bit stiff though.” She held up her bionic hand and flexed to show him.
“Don’t worry, daughter. You’ll soon get use to it.” Satisfied with the read-outs, he glances at the crashed breakfast cart. “I take that green doggie friend of yours was here again.”
Gaz sighed. “For the last time, dad, G.I.R. isn’t a dog. He’s the robotic minion of Zim.”
“You mean that animal belongs to Zim. That green foreign boy, right?”
“Try ‘Zim, that stupid fucking alien’.”
Letting loose a manly chuckle, Membrane patted Gaz’s head. “Now, now daughter… Don’t you start talking all crazy like your brother used to do.”
“By the way,” she grumbled, ducking away from the parental affection. “How is Dib?”
“He’s…alive…” sighed Membrane, drooping a little at the thought of his poor, insane, and still comatose son. Then he snapped up in a burst of excitement. “But don’t worry, daughter of mine! Soon I’ll your brother back on his feet and just as good as ever, thanks to the power of SCIENCE!”
“Dad, are you going to use Dib as a human guinea pig again?”
The professor laughed off the comment. “Of course not, sweetie. All I plan on doing is using the highly experimental telepathic transporter machine to enter you brother’s enormous head and find out what within his twisted psyche is keeping him from returning to consciousness. Heck, maybe while I’m in there I can add some pleasant memories of SCIENCE to encourage your brother to give up his crazy paranormal studies.”
“Eh, dad… I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”
“Nonsense! I assure you that all the tests came back showing that the probability of a complete and utter disaster was a paltry ninety-six percent. Now, get some rest daughter and all of us—you, me, and your soon-to-be sane brother— will be having a nice family dinner at Bloaty’s again in no time!” At that, Membrane leapt out the door and bounded down the hallway like a lab-coated gazelle.
G.I.R. squealed and waved at the professor as he sped past, oblivious to the fact that the robot was carrying an entire vending machine toward Gaz’s room. When it finally reached her, Gaz had already gotten dressed and packed up her GameSlave2 gear.
“G.I.R. we have to leave. Now.”
“But the soda…” It pointed at the vending machine sadly.
Gaz growled. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll grab something on the way to my cousin’s.”
Cheered by prospect of getting take-out, G.I.R. happily latched onto Gaz’s back as she quickly walked out of the room and bolted down the stairs. They had gone about three and a half blocks away from the lab when the first explosions rocked the city.
Wincing, Gaz decided not to glance back at the slowly rising mushroom cloud behind her and instead sped up her pace. Spending a few days in Pepito’s demonic company would be a thousand times safer than being anywhere within a four-mile radius of Dib right now.
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The Happy Smiley Dib Show!