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Joined at the Dib
By : theunsquickablekid
Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Slash - Male/Male
Views: 3738 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: 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
Disclaimer: The characters in this story aren't actually mine - they belong to Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon.
Chapter 1
Zim stared at the wall screen intensely. Usually, his Tallest would have contacted him by now, assuring him that his efforts were needed by the Irken armada, vital to operation Impending Doom 2 ™. The Earth, once conquered, could be used to fill the ever increasing inter-galactic need for parking space, package delivery, or possibly - Zim crossed his fingers - snack manufacture. But for now, the screen remained filled with static.
“Gir!” called Zim, prompting the diminutive robot to fall from the ceiling. Zim noted with distaste that the little robot had apparently stuck itself there with taffy. “Gir! I need you to go to the roof and check the main antennae, there’s something wrong with the transmission. If I don’t speak to my tallest, they’ll never know of my Amazing plan to exterminate these pitiful stink-creatures!” He glanced at the array of old socks, rubber hose, and slugs, both alive and dead, on the table beside him.
“Sir, I obey” saluted Gir, and rushed off, laughing hysterically, into a hatch that led to the roof.
“My poor, insane sidekick,” sighed Zim “Ah well.” He turned to his slugs, “Now, to breed some DOOM!”
Harold the slug was contentedly going about his sluggy business. It had been a long morning of chewing on lettuce and sliming up his plastic box, and now he thought he’d start the afternoon by inching his way along the floor, perhaps stopping for a bite of lettuce along the way. His ruminations were interrupted, however, by a black-gloved hand descending into his cage, grabbing him, and subjecting him to the most horrible and mind-bending tortures ever visited upon an invertebrate.
Gir flew through the elevator shaft, skidding and bouncing his way up, compelled by the force of anti-gravity. He howled with joy as he burst into the landing attic and bounced off the voot-cruiser. “Whoops”, he said, “almost forgot my disguise!” And he donned his yellow dog suit. “Yay, now I’m invisible!” He opened the window, jumped out, and activated his jets. As the poorly stitched dog ascended, he noted the curious absence of the large antennae on the roof of the house. He also noticed, with much more delight, the box of poop-sickle candies in its place. Screaming in manic pleasure, Gir pounced on the box, oblivious to the dark figure sneaking up behind him.
Dib knew he would have only one chance. Although he had successfully removed the alien satellite dish (cleverly disguised as a human satellite dish) from the roof (using only his cunning, two welding tanks, a hack saw, and a dollop of his father’s industrial KY jelly), he still had to disable Gir. Zim’s robot minion-of-death was lightning fast, possessing all the cunning that advanced alien technology could muster. Also, he would be through the candy in a few seconds. Dib marched forward dutifully, robot containment device (an old coffee sack) held firmly in his grip. He tensed, ready to jump on the horrible metal fiend disguised as a harmless dog. Before he could do so, however, he slipped, lost his footing, and slid to edge of the roof with a loud shout. Gir turned towards him, smiling. “Hey! I know you! Why’s your head so big?”
“My head’s not big!” exclaimed Dib, hanging onto the ledge of the roof with one hand, the containment device with the other. His fingers began to give way. If only he could convince the robot to betray his master, to help his mortal enemy, to -.
“Coffee!” screamed Gir on sight of the robot containment device. He dived into the bag headlong, which Dib (foolishly, in retrospect, since they really were easy to come by) held on to, sending them both plunging to the ground. They crashed thunderously into the brushes, and then all was silence. A few moments later, Dib came stumbling around the front of the house. Nothing seemed broken and, yes, his hair was still intact, structurally reinforced by many twigs and leaves. Shrugging, Dib walked through the front door, ignoring Zim’s robot parents as they greeted their “son”.
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