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She stood before her students, back arched forward, bony fingers gnarled, thin wrinkled lips pinched into a small straight line. Her eyes were hidden behind oval spectacles, yet every child seated before her could feel her hellish, acid glare pierce through them like a newly sharpened dagger. The collective gulped soundly.
“Today class,” she croaked. “We will be learning about what most likely will be the downfall of the human race, and possibly…” the witch reached into a drawer and picked up a remote with one giant red button on it. She pressed it, causing a small model of the Earth that had been sitting on the surface of her desk to explode.
“…the entire planet. This is what is called the apocalypse, commonly known as the result of twenty-twelve.”
This morbid lesson plan quickly sparked the attention of one particular student; one possessing a supposed skin condition which caused greenness in one’s complexion and a lack of ears. His shiny dark hair was slicked backward into a reasonably sized pompadour, and he was adorned in a pink metallic uniform and leather boots. He raised one gloved hand and called the teacher’s name in feigned politeness. “Um, excuse me. Miss Bitters?”
“What is it, Zim?” She asked blandly.
“I was just wondering…this ‘Twenty-Twelve’ that you speak of…it is a code name, yes? The code name of the being who threatens to destroy Earth, so you said?” Zim’s voice suddenly dropped a key lower, expressing his rage. “The being that dares challenge the great Invader Zim in the conquering of the planet?! THE LOW-LIFE FILTHY BOTTOM FEEDER THAT HAS THE AUDACITY TO EVEN THINK OF COMPETING AGAINST MY SUPEREOR ABILITY?!?! HE MUST BE ELIMINATED! You! Horrible teacher beast! Tell me Twenty-Twelve’s true identity! DO IT!! I COMMAND YOOOUUUUU!!!!”
Zim, who was now standing atop his desk, furiously pointed a small sharp finger at Miss Bitters with a formidable expression on his face. The rest of the class stared at him in prolonged awkward silence.
“Sit down, Zim.” The hag ordered flatly, now unfazed by his usual nonsensical outbursts.
The red telephone on her desk then abruptly interjected into the scene with an ear-slitting ring. She answered it before it could ring a second time.
“What?” She barked sourly into the phone. After a few muffled words emitted from the phone, Miss Bitters lowered it and looked to the occupancies of her classroom. “I need to take this call. Nobody. Makes. A single. Sound.” She gave the order and then swiftly slipped out of the door, stretching the phone’s cord across the room. She stood just outside the door, her lanky silhouette visible on the narrow window.
As soon as Miss Bitters had stepped outside, Zim silently crept away from his seat and over to her desk where he began rummaging through its drawers.
Another boy, who sat two desks away from and in the same row as Zim, whispered, “Hey, Zim! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Zip your face, Dib-dookie…smell…poop!” Zim whispered back.
“…Z-zip my face?”
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“No…no, I don’t…and quit adding all that ‘poo-poo-smell’ stuff to my name already. It’s getting pretty old.”
Zim thought about that for a moment. “Hmmm…Nah!”
“Anyway,” Dib rolled his eyes and continued, “What the heck are you doing, looking through Miss Bitters things? Huh? Huh? Well? …HUH?”
“If you really must know, I’m on a search for any information that I can find on this Twenty-Twelve threat. For all I know he could be a fellow Invader! Much like that horrible Invader Tak! A trader to the ARMADA! Trying to take over my missiONNNN!!”
Dib turned to the rest of his classmates. “Seriously, are you guys not hearing all this stuff he’s saying about invaders and armadas and missions?!”
“Shut up, weird kid.” Someone replied scornfully. The other students were too preoccupied sleeping or eating paste or digging for gold to even acknowledge Dib’s presence.
The hapless investigator sighed and smacked his forehead in aggravation. Zim snickered maliciously and then continued on his hunt for answers.
“Don’t you laugh at me, space-boy!” Dib snapped at normal volume, forgetting to keep his voice down.
“SILENCE! I do not take orders from rotten monkey-Dib-larvae of Earth-filth!” Zim’s fired back, a little too loud as well.
“I told you to cut that out!” Dib stomped out of his chair and stood offensively in front of Zim. The little extraterrestrial’s mouth curved into a smirk and he put his hands on his hips. He asked; “My, my! Does the little Dib wish to brawl the almighty Zim?”
A collective “Ooooo!” built up among the other classmates and they began to form a big circle around the two boys.
Dib hesitated. He looked around at all the grinning kids and then at Zim’s smug face. Then, with a firm expression he nodded and said; “You bet I’m gonna’ fight you, Zim!!”
The excitement of the other children advanced and they began to chant, “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”
Dib put his fists up and hopped about as he imagined a pro boxer might. “No alien weapons, Zim! I wanna’ see just how week your pathetic Irken race is without their pretty little gadgets!” the boy in the overcoat jeered.
“Don’t waste your breath, human! I’ll take you down with my bare hands, no problem!” The alien retorted, getting into his own comical martial-arts pose.
They each let out a thundering battle cry and Dib tackled Zim to the ground. Only seconds into the tussle did Miss Bitters come bursting through the doorway. She slithered over to the circle of students, dropping the phone on its dock as she moved past it. The circle of kids, who had gone utterly silent, stepped out of their teacher’s way as if she had pushed aside two double doors. She stood over the two combatants who were still going at it. “What’s going on here?” She hissed evilly.
Both boys froze simultaneously in a fairly awkward position; Dib biting into Zim’s leg and Zim kicking his heel into Dib’s side. Zim had a fist full of his rival’s hair and his other arm was pulled back, ready to deliver a strong punch.
“Didn’t I say not to make any noise? If you boys really wanted to fight so badly, you could have at least taken it outside. Better for you to bleed out there than in here.” Miss Bitters rebuked coldly.
“Unfortunately for all of us, I am now required by the school administrators to waste time punishing you. And so, as of now, I condemn the two of you…” she paused for dramatic effect. Zim and Dib looked at each other and then back at their villainous educator. “TO DETENTION.” Just then, a convenient crash of lighting struck from outside the classroom window, sealing the boys’ doomed fate.
Breaking the mood, she added, “There’s a teacher’s conference regarding the mutant rats infesting the cafeteria room after school today, so you will have to serve your time here tomorrow.”
Suddenly she leaned down, putting her shriveled face only centimeters away from the two boys. “And you had better be there, or you both will meet your doom.”
…
Herds of children exited the school building following the ring of the dismissal bell. The two rivals met at the school entrance, mutually dismayed and covered in bruises and cuts from the fight.
“Great job, genius. Now you’ve gone and gotten me in trouble! I’ve never had to serve detention before in my whole life!” Dib yelled.
“You are the one who challenged me!” Zim shouted back.
“Well, you egged me on!!”
“Well, none of this would have even happened if you hadn’t interfered in my business, idiotic THING!”
“Who are you calling idiotic, IDIOT?!”
“SILENCE!! I refuse to partake in this mindless bickering with you. What is the problem, anyway? This ‘detention’ can’t be that bad if it’s only a meek little Earthling punishment. Your kind’s methods of discipline can’t be nearly as horrific as the training I endured on Irk.”
“Zim, do you even know what a detention is?”
Zim just blinked at him, suddenly feeling slightly unsettled. He quickly restored the refined superiority to his expression. “Of…of course I do! And even if I didn’t, Dib, there’s nothing in the universe that an Irken warrior such as myself couldn’t handle! Now. Away with you, doltish creature. I have… STUFF to do. Oh, the stuff that I must dooooo…”
“…Stuff? What kind of stuff?”
“IMPORTANT NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS STUFF NOW BE GONE!!!!” He shouted. He then held up his chin proudly, turned on his heels and marched away, hiding the trivial doubt forming deep within his squeedlyspooch.
Dib watched him tromp away for a moment before shaking his head. “Arrogant moron.” He sighed, then started down the sidewalk toward home. His investigative instincts immediately began encouraging him to ponder aloud to himself what kind of ‘stuff’ Zim might have been talking about, and whether or not it might be another threat to the welfare of the planet.
…
“SsssstUPID big-headed Dib!!!” Zim ranted on the way to his base. “Who does he think he is, questioning what I do and do not know about the meaning of detention?! I know perfectly well what it means! Of course I know what it means!! I AM ZIIIIM!!!”
Zim paused, disturbed by a strange noise in the distance. “…WHAT the Zlorch is that HORRIBLE sound?” When Zim finally approached the mouth of his cul-de-sac, he realized the source of the racket. The muffled beat of blasting dance music was emanating from his house. He scowled. “Gir…”
The stout Irken stormed across the street to his dwelling. He stomped through the open fence, past the security gnomes, and up to the front door labeled with a men’s bathroom sign. He slammed it open and found Gir, in his dog suit, raving wildly to electronic music with the volume cracked up to the maximum level. He threw his limbs about to the rhythm of the music and giggled excitedly as he busted each move.
Zim grasped the sides of his head and tried shouting over the booming, chaotic beats. “GIR!!! TURN OFF THIS DREADFUL RACKET!!!!! YOU’LL ATTRACT ATTENTION TO THE BASE!!!”
The little robot just boogied even harder. “I’S GOTTA’ DANCE TILL I CAN’T DANCE NO MORE!!!!” Gir screeched. He jumped into the air and spun so rapidly that he drilled a perfect circle through the living room floor. “WWWEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! I’M STILL SHAKIN’ IT!!!” he called from the bottom of the hole in his squealing electronic voice.
Zim hastily picked up a remote off the couch and clicked it, turning off the music. Gir poked his head out of the cavity in the floor with a sad expression and whined gloomily “Awwww…”
“Gir, this is no time to be fooling around! I have to focus on researching Twenty-Twelve before he gets away with whatever he’s planning!” Zim said as he walked toward the kitchen.
“Twenny-Twelve?” Gir asked and followed his master. “You mean when da Earth goes all KABOOM and aaaaall da people blow up like the CRAZY DIBBY MAAAAN in the episode were he goes all slow-like--”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.”
Zim and Gir approached the oddly placed toilet in the kitchen as the invader continued. “But he will not be the one making the earth ‘go all kaboom’, my little minion. NOT WHILE ZIM HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT! My amazing, all-powerful leaders, The Tallest gave me this honorary mission. And I intend to follow it though. NOW, COME, GIR!! AND FLUSH ME DOWN THE TOILET!!!”
Zim lifted up the toilet lid and stepped into the bowl. “YAAAY DOWN THE POTTY!!!” Gir yelled as he pulled for the flush lever. Zim descend down the bowl and into one of the many secret entrances leading to the underground section of his base. He traveled in a small tube-shaped elevator and was eventually dropped onto a large red chair centered in a spherical crimson and violet room with several monitors lining the walls. He began typing on an Irken keyboard and the monitor in front of him lit up in response.
“COMPUTER.” He called.
“Sup.” An electronic male voice responded.
“I need you to give me an extremely thorough information analysis on something VERY, no…TREMENDOUSLY important.”
“What is it?”
Zim opened his mouth to talk, but hesitated. “Computer… look up the meaning of ‘detention’.”
“DETENTION: THE PUNISHMENTAL ACT OF HOLDING ONE IN CUSTODY FOR A PERIOD OF TIME, USUALY WHILE AWAITING A COURT DECISION.”
“Well that can’t be right…” Zim thought aloud.
“Master… You’re tangled up in this planets’ judicial system? That’s not very stealthy of you.”
“No, you FOOL! I’m telling you, that isn’t right! I’m not in trouble with the court, I’m in trouble with that repulsive Miss Bitters!”
“That ugly teacher-witch-lady?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“Ohhh. I see. Well, a school detention is basically the same as a legalized detention, only the containment is different. Instead of being held in a jail cell, one sits silently at their desk, reading or something.”
“Hmm, interesting… Does it hurt?”
“No. It says here that it’s just REALLY BORING.”
“Boring? Detention is simply boring?? That bothersome Dib made me curious for nothing! What a waste of my precious time…”
“Yeah, Master, Was that really the big important thing you wanted to know?”
“Heh. Oh yeah. Almost forgot.” Zim snorted, “Okay, Computer. Now tell me what you know about--” Before he could finish a complete thought, the sound of the electrical hum around him ceased and all the lights went out instantaneously. “WHAT? NOOO! A POWER OUTAGE?” he screamed in frustration. A second later, the screen before him rebooted and green, low resolution Irken letters began to spell out:
Switching to backup power source…
SEARCHING FOR problem…>> electrical short out…>> foreign interference…>> in main power room.
“Foreign interference?” Zim questioned.
Unexpectedly, from upstairs he heard Gir’s terrified screams. “EENYYAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! I CAN’T SEE MY MUFFIN NO MORE!!! WHERE ARE YOU, MUFFIN?? ARE YOU OVER HERE? WHERE ARE YOOOOU??”
Zim rolled his eyes.
He clicked a button on his PAK, activating a dark red glow that allowed him to see a few feet around him. Four long robotic spider legs extended from his back and with them, he to pried open the hatch on the ceiling and climbed up through the elevator shaft.
The short conqueror reached the main power source after traveling through the large expanse of the ventilation system. He dropped down into the room and retracted the spider legs back into his PAK. A blinding light appeared in front of him, causing him to squint.
“Hello, Zim.” Teased a familiar voice.
“DIB??” Zim called back furiously, still straining to see past the light glaring directly onto his face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY UNDERGROUND FORTRESS?!”
Dib lowered the light and reduced the stress on Zim’s eyes. He was shrouded in tight black clothing, armed with a flashlight and a strange, futuristic device.
“If you really MUST KNOW…” the boy mocked. “I came here to make sure you didn’t get away with whatever STUFF you’ve been up to. I plugged this hacking device into the main fuse box over there and put out the power throughout you’re entire base.” He lifted up the thing in his left hand and looked at it while he talked about it. “I got it as a prize out of a Mysterious Mysteries Oat Chunkies cereal box! Can you believe it? I didn’t think it would actually work!”
“The foreign interference…” Zim realized. “How did you get in?!”
“I offered the green dog thing a muffin to escort me down here.”
“Oh, those disgustingly delicious earth muffins…”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. JUST GIVE ME BACK MY ELECTRICITY BEFORE I TURN YOUR BRAIN INTO GOO!!”
“NEVER!” Dib tucked the flashlight under his arm and pulled a small black ball out of his pocket. With a devious cackle, Dib threw the ball hard against the ground, activating a large puff of smoke to shroud him completely. Zim coughed hoarsely from the fumes until the smoke finally cleared. Dib had disappeared along with it.
Zim was left alone in the pitch-black darkness. “Stinking human…”