Author's Note: This fic was inspired by a visit I made today to a local mall. I went into the antique store and there was this semi-disturbing feeling of temporal displacement. I originally set out to write about that, but on a whim I included some Wizard of Oz figurines I saw there and it... spiraled into this somehow. Um.

Disclaimer: I'm actually a Wicked fan, so don't attack me for not liking it. Because I do. So it would be pointless.

Zim hurried forward in a partial crouch, glaring at the approaching mall from under slanted, angry brows. GIR hopped up and down beside him, his dog costume squeaking merrily.
Obviously hanging out at the mall was not how Zim wanted to spend Saturday afternoon, but yesterday afternoon he'd been sitting in the cafeteria and he'd just happened to hear
"Are you coming to the mall later, Zita?"
"Of course I'm coming to the mall! I love the mall!"
"I think EVERY kid must love the mall. I mean, you're not HUMAN if you don't like the mall!"
...so here he was at the mall.
"Ringringringringringring, Banana-phooooone," GIR was singing beside him.
"Stop that singing, GIR. Human dogs don't sing like that," Zim snapped.
" ringring, Fonanadoooooo-"
"I said quiet!" Zim said again, slightly louder this time. The hand not holding GIR's leash balled into a fist, and beneath the wig antennae flattened to his skull in displeasure.
"Oh-keeeeeey," GIR squealed.
Silence fell, but for the squeaky dog-costume feet and military marching boots. Zim narrowed his eyes, scanning the outside of the mall. The parking lot was about half-full of cars and a few people were coming and going. Zim growled softly in his throat at the sight of them.
Human beings. He hated them, every bit of them, hated their soft, bloated, pulsing flesh, their wide, pale eyes, the dirty, tangled protrusions of hair from their scalps and faces, the way they were too stupid and oblivious to-
"BANANAPHOOONE!"
Zim shrieked in protest at being so rudely jerked out of his reverie, then he turned on GIR.
"SHUT! UP! GIR!"
"Sorreeeeee," the tiny robot squealed from behind the cloth mask.
They were almost to the doors now. Zim skirted a tiny puddle on the sidewalk (he did it automatically, unaware he had even noticed the water) and cut a wide berth around several humans (very aware he was doing so), hauling on GIR's leash. The crazy robot had by this time begun to hum some kind of loud, nasal, high-pitched song with no recognizable tune.
"WILL YOU STOP THAT?" Zim shouted as they entered the wall.
"Okay," GIR chirped, for what, the third time? Zim let out a loud hiss of irritation, not caring that several humans looked at him oddly when he did so.
"Well, here I am a normal human boy frequenting the mall," he sighed, making sure to do so quite loudly. "Oh so normal am I." This declaration was made in a tone of flat boredom. "Nothing wrong here."
"BUNNIES!" GIR shrieked.
"SHUT UP GIR!" Zim hollered.
"I WANNA LOOKIT THE BUNNYYYY!" GIR cried, suddenly darting forward with enough force to jerk the leash out of Zim's hand.
"HEY! GIR, come back here! GIIIIR!" Zim yelled, running after him.
GIR was running into an antique store. Once he got inside he immediately stopped running and proceeded forward at a sedate, polite place.
Zim rushed in behind him. His wig was askew and he was breathing heavily.
"GIR!" he screamed. "GIR, what are you doing?"
GIR turned around, scowling and holding his paw to the sewn-on mouth of the suit. "Shh!"
Zim trotted forward and took a firm hold on GIR's leash. His eyes were narrowed to very mean slits.
"Never run off like that again, GIR. Do you want your master to be dissected by humans?"
"I try but it's so hard," GIR sighed.
Zim straightened up, snapping his spine into military posture. With his free hand he straightened his wig as he scanned his surroundings, squinting suspiciously. He was completely unsurprised to find no bunny in sight. No, not even anything that looked remotely like a bunny.
"Well, I suppose we might as well look around to keep up appearances. Keep quiet, GIR."
GIR mewed. Zim flashed him a disturbed glance, then shook his head, frowning, and marched forward, glancing from side to side at the displays. He was careful not to touch anything.
The shelves on each side of him were filled with porcelain figures with crudely painted faces. Something about them made Zim's back prickle uncomfortably and he shuddered, then tugged obsessively at GIR's leash.
Zim hurried down the hall at a slightly faster tempo, his eyes darting back and forth. Suddenly he stopped, drawing breath sharply. A flash of green.
He approached it. Here was a set of small, detailed sculptures. A thing with the mane of an animal and the shape of a man.
He shuddered.
A thing with the gleam of a robot and the shape of a man.
He shuddered again.
A scarecrow-thing.
Zim made a few, quiet sicky-noises in the back of his throat and subconsciously drew GIR closer to himself. More affirmation that hese humans were twisted.
A female human in a blue dress, accompanied by a dog monster. And here was a green human, leaning forward with one hand reaching out, the fingers hooked into claws. Her teeth were bared and she was wearing backswept black robes and a tall, pointy hat. She was clutching a broomstick. Her features were thin and sharp, nearly Irken. And she was green.
She had hair, but it was hidden under her hat. She had flaps of ears but they didn't seem so ugly when they were green. The nose was ugly, true.
But her bared teeth and malevolent squint interested Zim. The green human seemed fierce. Very fierce.
"Hmm," he mumbled, reaching out and gently tapping on the glass. "What is this? A disguised Irken?"
He squinted. There was an engraving on the base of the figure.
The Wicked Witch of the West, it read.
"Hmm," Zim said, touching his lips in a thoughtful gesture.
"May I help you?" a human said cheerfully behind him.
You can aid the mighty Zim by destroying yourself, thanks.
Zim itched to say it, but instead he asked
"What is this... Wicked Witch of the West thing?"
He tapped the glass.
"That's a resin figurine engraved in the 1980s. Only ten were made. It's a steal at only a thousand dollars."
"Yes, yes, that's nice," he said with a dismissive gesture. "But who is she?"
The salesgirl sounded rather unsure of herself as she said- "Well, she's the Wicked Witch of the West. You know, from the Wizard of Oz..."
"What is this... Oz?" Zim asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Um, it's a movie?"
"Movie," Zim repeated quietly. "Hmm..."

Zim lingered around the mall for around 20 minutes more before the all-pervading human fumes began to make him feel sick. Judging that he'd been hanging out long enough to qualify as normal, he left the mall and began dragging GIR back to the base. (GIR, by the way, had not stopped screaming 'Bananaphone' at the top of his lungs.)
Before he left, however, he rented a copy of 'The Wizard of Oz'.

"Where is she? Where's my sister?"
Zim sat in silence, eyes fixed on the screen.
This was his tenth time watching the movie. He'd also seen Wicked: the Musical online and read the book (and denounced them both as worthless trash), he'd read the original book (and had his own copy), he'd seen a hundred different remakes (and denounced those as worthless trash as well).
His eyes roamed over the screen. Her lithe crouch. Her claws and pinched face. She was so fierce. She was so stylish. Arriving in a cloud of smoke. Her high voice was music to his antennae.
Nearly Irken, he thought again.
He'd chosen his own name for her, different from that foolish 'Elphaba'. He called her Zekk. It was a beautiful name, an Irken name.
Zim bent his head. He was typing on a laptop.
Little did they know Zekk had not died, he wrote. She had melted, yes. Into a thin green goo. Wicked goo.
But when this goo was removed to a safe place, it began to change. Back into the so very tall
What were the female humans called again? Oh yes,
wi-minz it had once been.

"Doom, doom, doooom..." Miss Bitters droned.
Zim tuned her out as he leaned over his notebook. His pen scratched rapidly at the paper.
When he was done, he had a flat picture that looked nothing like his Zekk.
Zim scowled and threw his pen down. "Stupid pen! WHY DO YOU MOCK ZIIIIM?"
A few of the more bored students glanced at Zim for a diversion. The rest had learned to tune him out. Dib, of course, had been staring at im the whole time.
"Be Zekk!" Zim snapped, crumpling up his paper and throwing it. Miss Bitters turned and hissed at him. Zim froze.
After a minute, he took out another piece of paper and began to doodle his beloved Zekk.

Zim opened his e-mail.
You have received the following review from wickedfan01:
grate story ryt moar
Zim chuckled, satisfied. He clicked the reply link and typed:
Thank you, pathetic worm baby. Soon the entire Internet will be begging for the delectable fruits of ZIM's labor.
He closed the window and went on to the next e-mail.
You have received the following review from HeMeleNoLiloLover:
This is an interesting plot and I like the way you handle the characters, but I notice you use a lot of bolded words and unnecessary capitalization. Also, there are kind of a lot of explanation points.
Also, I think you mean woman, not wiminz.
It's a great story, but it would be more fun to read if you fixed these things.
Zim scowled and hit the reply link.
FOOLISH EARTH SCUM!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW DARE YOU INSULT THE MIGHTY FANFICTION OF ZIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD ON A PLATTER!!!!!!!!!!!!! love, ZIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He hit send with a smug "ha!"
Stupid stinkbeasts. Like they can write as well as I can. The foolish worms don't even know the grammar and spelling laws for their own language. PATHETIC!
He opened the word processor and began to type the next chapter, humming.
Suddenly, the computer spoke.
"Zim, I'd hate to interrupt but uh, you haven't really done anything for the past month but watch the Wizard of Oz over and over and write fanfiction. Shouldn't you be working on your mission?"
"Stupid supercomputer!" Zim laughed. "Can't you see I'm- researching human behavior?"
"MASTA'S IN LOOOOOOOOVE WITH THE TEEEEEE-VEE!" a squeaky voice yelled from another room.
"Shut UP, GIR!" Zim hollered. His claws flew over the keyboard.
Zekk pointed at the girl, her features contorted into a fierce scowl. Fierce like the monster Slorrbeast.
"Throw that dog into the fire pit!! She'll pay for what she did to me!"
"No!" Dorothy sobbed. "Toto!!"
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her dog was torn from her regardless.
Zim began to chuckle smugly. This manipulation of fantasy worlds was satisfying indeed.
Yes, satisfying indeed.

END