historize: (america--rockin like a rock star)
[personal profile] historize
Title: My Friend, the Invader
Author/Artist: [livejournal.com profile] historyblitz, kept track of at [livejournal.com profile] historize
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, Invader Zim, Gir
Rating: PG
Warnings: language
Summary: There is no Tony. There is only Zim.

Oh! The human was so stupid and filthy! Stupid, filthy human! He was so dense! So malleable! He had this human so easily fooled! Zim had to pat himself on the back. Honestly, he truly was amazing. To think, he had panicked when he and Gir had looked up and found a huge Earthaoid staring down at them--but no! No! Not Zim! Zim the Invader sent to take over this stupid, tiny, disgusting spinning ball of vomit! He had played it so smooth! So suave! He had fooled him for certain!

The human had even taken them home to his big house in the country--just outside a dirty, puss-encrusted cityscape of horror. He wore his disguise well--and why wouldn't he, it was wonderful--but the human didn't seem to care what he wore. In fact, he seemed downright delighted.

Actually, a lot of things Zim did seemed to delight the human. Once the human had walked in while Zim was making his next master plan for Earthian annihilation and the human had laughed and cheerfully suggested radio-active quilts to take away tea from all the English.

Despite the fact that this came from the human--and Zim was starting to believe the human might, in fact, be insane--it was quite a good idea and was met with an interesting level of success.

Gir, without saying, loved the human. He and the filthy football-human liked cooking together and the human would always sit around and watch those stupid, moronic, tiny-brained television shows with him. And then they would watch the sports together. And Gir would make mashed potatoes and waffles that were tingly when you put them in your mouth--but the putrid football-human didn't seem to care.

And then, after the human introduced Gir to cheeseburgers, he whined for them constantly.


Hamburger human.

But oh! As much as Zim could complain about the idiocy of the doom-fated hamburger-human, he could not but laugh.

Laugh! as he worked in the lab he had dug by making a door in the human's basement wall. Soon! This silly human and his hamburgers and his football would be his! Zim's! It would all belong to Zim. To Zim!

Upstairs, Al said, "No, no, Arthur, you gotta come and meet them. I think Gir--oh hey, wait--gimme--" he raised a strange bar to his nose, "--ah, Gir made bacon soap. It smells really good. I'm thinking I could make some money selling it, y'know?"

Arthur hung up on him.
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May 2012

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