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“Seriously, who’s that weird new alien who I saw upstairs?”
“Nobody! It is the least of your worries, human pillock.”
Dib was currently backed into a corner of Zim’s basement, waiting for the alien’s whatever-gun to charge up. Normally he would be more anxious, but in all honesty this was just a regular Tuesday for him. Dib was just content to have an adventure where he wasn’t in constant, accelerating agony.
“Aha!” Zim’s gun flashed an ‘OK’ on the side. “End of the line Dib-scum. Prepare to face accelerating agony!”
The gun zapped at Dib and he flinched. He waited a moment before looking at his hands before realizing nothing happened, however a yellow something could be seen from his peripheral. He pulled it down and realized it was his own hair.
“You made me blonde?”
Zim, who had preemptively began his shrieky hyena laugh, paused. “Wait wha— no! Skoodge!” He screamed.
The shorter, stockier green alien popped out from a ceiling tile. “Yeah, boss?”
“You mixed up the blondifier and the hydrochloriformer! You ruined my scheme. ”
“Aw, sorry Zim. That explains why my wig melted, though.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Dib asked.
“Ugh!” Zim drop-kicked the blondifier to the side, the gun landing somewhere with a loud exploding sound. “I was going to turn your disgusting flesh oils into hydrochloric acid, but Skoodge ruined it. I’ll have to try again next Tuesday.”
Dib shuddered. “I think the bigfoot club is having a meeting that day.”
“Fuck!” Zim kicked another gadget, which also exploded.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Dib decided that was enough for the day. “I guess I’m going to go home, then,” he said.
“Yeah whatever, see you.”
Dib began climbing his way out of the basement while Zim pouted angrily and murmured to himself. Skoodge scuttled down the wall and patted him on the back.
“There there, Zim. You can always melt his skin off some other time.”
“But he’s so stupid! What if he dies before I get the chance to destroy him?”
“I’m sure he won’t,” Skoodge said. “Let’s go watch that human show where they die and then talk about it.”
“Oh, it’s on?”
They then went upstairs and watched three hours of Forensic Files. That night, the tuna pudding Gir had microwaved was almost edible.