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Fuck Pig	By : ladylaguna Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 4696 -:- 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
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There was a specific reason why Dib wasn't given clothing right away. Shortly after he awakened again, Boritz came to inform him of how things would work. The room he was currently occupying was for guests. None of the objects within it were his own. If he wanted anything of his own, he would have to pay for it. Meaning, if he acquired clothing from Don Kharna, the price of that clothing would be added onto his debt. Food, a ship, a console, a room to stay, any of these things were available to him if he so chose, just as long as he paid.

Dib himself would have to pick out the items he wanted and would be given an advance. This ensured that he would be “charged” fair market value for the items. He was told that if he wanted to start picking out things right away, he could; and was given a site he could visit on his console where he could start doing research into a room on Kharna with amenities that would help him live comfortably.

After Boritz left, Dib thought hard about the situation in which he was mired. In order to LIVE... to have a small room, food on a regular basis... etc., he would constantly be adding money onto his debt. A debt that was already massive. The only way that he could feasibly get out of this was to make more money than he spent. If he wanted to get out of this in a timely manner, he'd have to make a LOT more money than he spent. If he made money on a job-to-job basis, this meant taking on a shitload of jobs.

This was, he was sure, part of the plan. Either he could work his ass off or he could work a normal amount and always be in servitude to the don. This guy had sure wrangled himself a sucker.

And so, research Dib did. On Kharna, there was a section devoted to quarters for the satellite's staff. All staff quarters were not created equal. There were single rooms, multiple rooms, and completely separate floorplans for entire families. Dib figured that the cheapest rooms were taken up by entry level positions, like janitorial. He was aware that the type of people he would be living around, if he got the cheapest quarters, would not be the best neighbors... But what choice did he have? He didn't want to live on Kharna at all, so better to get a shitty room and potentially only have to stick around for a short period of time.

Reserving himself a cheap room, Dib looked into clothing. Boritz had informed him that they had a small shipment of goods onship, so Dib figured he should give them a look first. Though he considered tying a sheet around himself when he left the room, he finally decided that modesty didn't matter THAT much. Clothing was as much a necessity as anything else; he wanted pants so he wouldn't freeze to death, not necessarily to keep people from seeing naughty bits they likely didn't understand anyway.

After having a little sleep, he found that the fog wasn't quite so persistent as he walked down the halls. He was finally able to take in his surroundings. Staff flitted about here and there, but for the most part, the ship was empty. Huge, but empty. Cameras were stationed at intervals, following every movement. It was not kept a secret that everything one did was monitored.

In the end, he managed to find pants, shoes and a tunic that weren't too terribly expensive. Too expensive for just a tunic outfit, but he couldn't be too choosy at that point.

Mostly, he was left to his own devices on the trip. Food was a consideration. He could survive without it; he had this whole time... but the pain of hunger was persistent. Additionally, he thrived much more easily when he had food in his system. Thriving meant getting more work done... and so, he bought himself a little bit of food on a couple of occasions during the trip. When he swallowed his first mouthful of soup, his stomach seized painfully and he had to stop and wait for the pain to pass. Thankfully, at least in his opinion, he was so used to pain by now that such things that would have another man doubling over only made him wince a little.

Before he knew it, they had arrived on Kharna. Boritz actually had a real job that needed to be done, so after they stepped off the ship, he was gone. As was the Don. However, Dib was sent an escort to help acquiant him with the satellite. It'd been some five years since he'd been there last... but it hadn't changed much. The main corridor leading from the docking area was lined with vendors who mostly ignored him the moment they lay eyes on him. From there, it branched off into the main floor where hundreds of aliens milled around doing unsavory business deals. Then was the casino, bar and somewhere in the mess was a restaurant-- or, at least, an eating area.

After giving Dib a rudimentary tour, the guide led him down, down down to the bowels of Kharna and through a number of increasingly hot and dingy corridors. His stomach began to clench when he realized where they were likely going...

They stopped at the end of a hallway. The girl pointed. “Your room is the fourth one on the left,” she stated.

Dib simply stared for a moment... “You aren't going to escort me to my DOOR? That sort of means you failed as an escort, doesn't it?”

“No way I'm going down there.” Snorting, she turned and sashayed away. Dib looked back down the corridor. There was a small group of men huddled in the middle, adjacent to Dib's door... He took a step forward and one of them perked, looking at him with narrowed eyes. What was there to do? The short amount of time Dib had “free” before his capture, he only occasionally dealt with other aliens... Tak usually negotiated this or that. There was still a lot he didn't know about etiquette.

Well, it was his fucking room he paid for, so he just decided to keep walking. Keeping eye contact and finally giving a curt nod as he passed, Dib entered his domicile and closed the door soundly behind him, locking it tight.

Everything Dib had requested for his room was ready, even arranged in a somewhat civilized manner. He didn't want for much... a little cot, a small cooking unit, a 'bathroom' the size of a closet... it would do. Sighing in relief, he headed for the cot-- his only piece of furniture-- and sat down.

Ugh, it was so stiff... “Home sweet home,” he breathed, leaning back on his arm. Just as he thought about possibly relaxing, there was pounding on the door. Groaning in exasperation, Dib rose and looked through the peephole. It was one of those aliens from before.

“Yeah?” he called, not bothering to open the door.

Waving a seemingly boneless arm, the alien growled, “You new? I gotta question for ya, man.”

“You just asked me a question,” Dib spat back. Mature as the answer was, he wasn't in the mood for socializing. Not that he'd ever been in the mood for such a thing.

“Yeah, yeah,” the alien laughed, mouth twisting into what was likely a smile. “I live two doors down, man. I'm the welcoming committee.”

Sighing, Dib finally opened the door. He should make some effort to be hospitable, he supposed. The alien looked over his shoulder into the room, not making any effort to conceal his curiosity. “My name's Dib,” Dib said, head inclining somewhat in greeting. In doing so, he tilted it so that his wild hair blocked some of the alien's view.

Annoyed at this, the man growled, “Whatcha got in there? Anything good? See, on this block we like newcomers to make a contribution to the community... sort of like a, ah, good will gesture.”

“Usually it's the other way around,” Dib replied, eyebrows arching. He was perfectly calm, though his own annoyance was beginning to show on his features. “You didn't bring me a fruit basket or anything?”

“A whut?” Trying to press up on his toes to look OVER Dib's head, he blinked. “Don't be stingy, man. Whatcha got?”

“Nothing,” Dib replied.

Shaking his head a little, the man asked, “Uh? Nothin'? Why you here? What department you workin' in?”

“A different one from yours,” Dib answered simply, readying to close the door.

Shoving the door back open, the man cried, “Hey! I don't appreciate no disrespect.”

“That's a double negative-- Unh!” He grunted as he was flung back with the door, hitting the wall. The moment he felt his back hit, the alien moved to rush past him. In seconds all four of the men were in his room, overturning the cot, throwing open the bathroom door, and generally making a mess of the place in search for goods. Of course, Dib wasn't lying when he said he had nothing... and briefly, the thought occurred to him to just let them discover that for themselves and leave on their own.

But no. He had made a promise to himself that he wouldn't be taken advantage of again. He wouldn't be subjugated again. And so, he approached the leader of his “Welcoming Committee” and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned, Dib popped him with a right hook, his fist slightly charged with Meekrob. It was enough to send the guy sailing backwards over the cot, tumbling into the floor. Dib jumped and hauled him up just as his companions noticed what was going on.

“You don't come into people's homes unless INVITED,” Dib hissed, shoving the man back towards the door. The other three stared for a moment, disbelieving that this pale, hairy thing would give their friend backtalk. The leader wasn't going to stand for it either. Screaming some obscenity in a language Dib's translator didn't quite pick up, he attacked. His boneless arm slapped across Dib's face and he felt some type of acidic substance on his skin... He could even smell the burning flesh, but there was barely a twinge of pain.

Grinning crookedly, Dib reprised, clocking him again, then kicking him in the chin while he was staggering. He took a second to feel his wound... there was no longer any flesh or muscle there. Touching his own jaw bone in the open air, Dib whispered, “...weird.” Thankfully, he was able to concentrate enough energy to begin regrowing the muscle right then... The other aliens all made noises of awe, hesitating to approach... but the moment the leader recovered, he was attacking again.

“Your fighting style is rather awkward,” Dib critiqued as he began to dodge the man's flailing. “Let me teach you a few things.” Phasing behind the alien, he grabbed one arm and twisted it behind his body in an attempt to hold him in place. Unfortunately, his arm simply came off completely and acid began to spray wildly as the man howled in pain. It was then that the other aliens left the room, screaming in terror. Grimacing, Dib backed away. “Oh, fuck... That really sucks. Trust me, I know. Sorry about that.”

Twisting towards Dib with a glazed, crazy look on his face, the alien tried to attack with his remaining arm. Shaking his head, Dib slapped him with his own appendage. “Haven't you given up yet?” He fell back, movements becoming sluggish, acid still steadily pumping onto the walls and floor. “You're ruining my wallpaper, man.”

The alien finally stumbled and sat down solidly on the floor. He looked up at Dib and mumbled something in his strange language before reaching out for Dib's leg, catching him off-guard and coiling his arm around it. Cursing, Dib kicked him in the head and it fell mishappen. The alien slumped to the side and was still.

Dib inspected the alien momentarily. Unsure of whether or not he was dead, he finally shrugged it off and threw his arm into the hall, hauling his body up by the scruff of the neck and tossing it out there as well. He figured his buddies had already run to get help. Slamming the door and locking it soundly, he looked over the mess that was formerly his room. Thankfully, nothing had been truly destroyed. There was acid all over his blanket; that would have to be tossed. He mopped up what he could of the mess before it ate through the blanket entirely and he was left with a pile of soot. Soon the acid seemed to deactivate and burn away. Besides large splotches on the wall and floor, there were no remnants of his 'visitor.'

The hall was quiet as death, Dib observed with a wry smile, for the rest of the evening. After his mind stopped racing, he was able to fall into sleep.

No more than a few hours later, Dib was startled awake by the sound of his door slamming open. He immediately flashed back to his time with Tzin and froze, his muddled mind reminding him that if he struggled things would only be worse. In seconds he was roughly, but not violently, pulled to his feet. Suddenly he was looking up into Boritz's severe features.

“The gift you were given... What have you done with it? Are you nothing more than a filthy murderer?”

Blinking rapidly, Dib cried, “...what?? What are you talking about?? And... what about you? Don't you work for a criminal?”

“Criminality is relative,” Boritz stated, grabbing Dib by his shirt and shaking him a little. “You killed a man in cold blood and disrespected his corpse. That is not what you were brought here to do.”

So the dude was dead. Somehow, Dib couldn't muster any degree of sympathy or shock. Maybe he was just a murderer... His soul had been ripped out of him. “...I didn't MEAN to kill him,” Dib finally managed to reply. “He came in here, trying to ransack the place. I had to defend myself. How was I supposed to know his arm would just come off like that?”

As Dib spoke, Boritz's face softened somewhat. A big, powerful dude like him must have accidentally ripped off a few limbs in his time, right? Just as Dib thought he was going to get a reprieve, he was shoved towards the door. “Let's go, furball. To the restaurant.”

“Restaurant?” Dib cried as he stumbled.

Continuing to shove him through the door and down the hall, Boritz explained, “You killed the head cook. We had to promote another cook. Now we're short a cook. So you're going to have to take his place until we find a replacement.”

“I... I don't know how to cook that well! And what about my working for the Don?”

“The Don wants you to replace this fucking cook. Don't argue with me. You'll still get paid. Though it'll be peanuts.”

Peanuts was an overstatement. That day marked the beginning of a month of hell. Dib was most certainly not a good cook, and his training was lacking. Nobody in the restaurant trusted him... he'd killed one of their coworkers, after all. Keeping up with the other cooks was nigh impossible, considering Dib only had one arm to work with. Dib was convinced that he'd never get out of that hell. When he wasn't being yelled at or shoved, he was being glared at or ignored. Every evening when his time was up, he got out of there as quickly as possible.

Though one night, as he left the kitchen after his shift, Dib was approached by a waitress.

“You... you're the one that killed Zrywn, aren't you?”

Slumping a little, Dib ran grimy fingers through his hair. “It was an accident.”

Laughing, the girl shook her head. “Just like the time he 'accidentally' poured boiling Azu on me when I turned him down for a 'lay'... right?” She held up her arm, showing him a network of ugly scarring. As Dib looked it over, pity glanced across his features. She was a pretty little thing, for an alien of course... “I was dared to talk to you,” the girl explained. “Nobody is sad that Zrywn is gone. He was an asshole. But nobody had the guts to stand up to him. And a stranger kills the guy on his first night? So they say you've gotta be even scarier than him. But I said I didn't think so.”

“I can be pretty scary,” Dib warned, not wanting to get any sort of 'nice guy' rep right off the bat. Besides, he'd been treated badly enough that he didn't really figure anyone feared him. “--Uh, what was your name?”

“Sure,” the girl giggled. “It's Shiri.” Putting a hand on Dib's shoulder, she asked, “Do you ever do anything when you get off work? Everyone always sees you just go back to your room.” Before Dib could answer, she plowed on, “Why don't you come down to the underbar with me?”

“Look...” Dib sighed, shaking his head. “...I'm sure it's a lot of fun. But I don't have any money to spend on stuff like that.”

“None of us do,” the girl replied. “Otherwise we'd be going to the ACTUAL bar.” Beginning to drag him, she cried, “Instead we have a little dugout underneath where we imbibe whatever gets thrown out.”

All he WOULD do is sit in his room if he didn't go... so Dib gave in and went. He had never been a social creature, and being squeezed with so many other people into such a small, dusky place wasn't exactly fun. But once forced into a couple of drinks, he began to get more talkative.

Another couple of weeks were spent in such a way; working in the restaurant, going to the underbar afterward. Dib began to collect more acquaintances. Soon, even the other cooks began to speak to him.

“You seem like a good guy,” one remarked on an evening. Taking a long swig of his half-empty bottle, he hissed, “But you're a shitty cook.”

“I know,” Dib replied. “It's not exactly what I signed on to do. I've never been good with making stuff taste good.”

“It ain't even THAT,” another cook interjected. “You just so fucking SLOW. The rest of us always working harder to make up for it.”

Looking down at his only arm, Dib sighed, “I'm sorry. It's just hard for me...”

“Look,” the first growled, shoving Dib a little roughly on the shoulder. “None of us is got much. But we make due with what we got. Cuz if we don't, then we ain't got nothin'.” Holding up a hand, the dude gestured with purpose. He seemed to have six thumbs per hand... except for the couple missing on the one he was shaking.

After that conversation, Dib gave his job a lot of thought. If he was going to be forced to work for peanuts, he might as well earn it. And he did have at least a few talents to 'make due' with. He had the Meekrob, right? The next day, he tried to use his abilities to speed up his performance. Though a few things were broken, some of his work got done more quickly. Harder and harder he worked at it, until he was able to manage three mixing bowls at once. Often, his body would conjure a Meekrob arm to replace the one he'd lost. Unfortunately, as was always the issue previously, if he lost his concentration the arm would be gone and whatever he was holding would be in the floor. He missed his prosthetic.

Hanging out with his coworkers at the restaurant taught him a lot about making no money go a long way. Being a self-sufficient satellite, Kharna had its own waste facilities. The affluent customers that often came there wasted many of their resources. By rooting through the dump, many of them were able to find supplies to make their lives more comfortable. It was on one of these excursions with Shiri that Dib got an idea.

“What you grabbin' up all that scrap for? It's useless,” she informed him.

Shaking his head, Dib grinned. “I'm resourceful.”

Using discarded wires, metal plating, rods, and other material, Dib was able to fashion himself a new prosthetic. Jamming it into his stub, he forced his skin and muscle to heal over the new wounds and hold the thing in place. It was hideous and its movement was limited, but using the Meekrob he was able to make the elbow and fingers bend somewhat.

By the end of his second month in the kitchens, Dib was keeping up with, if not surpassing, his coworkers.

One evening when he returned from the underbar, Dib found Boritz waiting at his door. “Oh— I hope you weren't waiting for long,” Dib cried as he approached.

“Yeah, I was.”

“I was just at--”

“I know,” Boritz interrupted with a grin. “We always know where you are.” Folding his arms, he sighed, “I just figured I'd take a break.” As Dib let them into his room, Boritz looked around. “Long time no see. Looks like you've done alright for yourself so far.”

“It's just shit I've picked up from the dump. Don't sit in that chair, though. I don't think it would hold you.”

“You ain't worked much on your debt.”

“I haven't had the money,” Dib replied, looking at Boritz with purpose as he plopped down on his cot.

Nodding, Boritz said, “Yeah. Who'd wanna work for shit pay like that? S'part of the reason why it took so long to find your replacement.”

Eyes lighting up, Dib cried, “So you did it!? You found him?”

“Yeah. He starts tomorrow. And so do you.”

“Uhn?”

Gesturing upwards, Boritz explained, “We gotta little situation you need to handle. Lord Dumral took out a loan from one of our associates he ain't repaid. We know he's got money, he's been blowin' it in the casino like nothin'.”

“So what do you want me to do? Shake 'im down?”

Boritz nodded. “However you gotta do it. Just DON'T kill the guy. We want his money, not his life.”

Once the details of this job were ironed out, Boritz turned to leave. “Hey--!” Dib cried, rising.

“Yeah...?” The man turned to him, a smooth eyebrow raising. It occurred to Dib that this guy was remarkably patient with his questions. This made him even more nervous. Swallowing hard, the human asked, “My... um... I have a family. I know that... when I tried to use a console on the ship, it wouldn't let me contact them.” He looked at the ground, drawing a deep breath. “Is there any way that I could...?”

“No,” Boritz replied flatly. “Don't do nothin' suspicious, kid. Let me tell it to you straight. Everything you do is being monitored. You trying to communicate too much with people the Don don't know... it's a bad idea. He's worried you're gonna try to bring the Fed down on 'im.” Before Dib could protest, Boritz barreled on, “Yeah, you say you're gonna honor your end of the bargain. But your family might try somethin' stupid, like comin' out here. That's how the Don thinks.” Tapping his forehead, Boritz grinned. “It's being taken care of. Trust me on this.” Reaching his long arm out and giving Dib a hard thump on the back, Boritz finished, “Just work hard. Pay off your debt, and you'll see 'em again in no time. Alright?”

“Okay,” Dib sighed. And Boritz was gone.

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REVIEW REPLIES:

Scarebaby: Such a compliment! Thank you for sticking around for so long! I know how hard it is to write reviews XD I'm terrible at it. So I appreciate yours immensely. If you get your site up (if you haven't already, lol) drop me a link so I can check it out. You obviously have superior taste ~_^ I KID, I KID... and hope your head is still intact.

Wolfboy: I SWEAR I'LL KEEP UPDATING. Slowly, but I'll keep doing it XD I hope these chapters were better. >_> So much plot I want to divulge... *sighs*
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