Disclaimer: Invader Zim characters, names, etc are © Nickelodeon and the disturbingly amusing Jhonen Vasquez.
All things considered, the day should've been normal. It started no different than it ever did; then again, was anything normal these days? No, the mere existence of one green-skinned organism prevented that, and shoved the standard of normality ever considerably higher. For this reason, abnormal days occurred more frequently then normal days – which causes one to wonder if the names perhaps should be switched.
"Gir? Gir, we need a plan!" Zim paused and groaned, for sure enough his little SIR was not paying the least bit of attention to what he was saying. Instead, Gir was staring straight ahead, munching on some junk food, likely including the word 'poop' in the title.
"This is my favorite show!" Gir commented, pointing at the screen.
"Gir, I don't –"
"Oooh! Commercials!" Gir continued eating.
"Why must you insist on watching this blathering, inferior human electronic?!" Zim queried, not receiving so much as a glance form Gir in response.
Zim shook his head. He wished Gir would show his advanced-ness more frequently.
"Gir! Desist watching that
noisy…noise thing immediately!"
Gir pouted at Zim, halting his eating momentarily.
"Aawww, just one more commercial?"
Zim groaned, shaking his head.
"Gir, we have a planet to dominate!"
The little robot went back to eating, making hideous noises in the process. Zim lowered his nonexistent eyebrows in an annoyed fashion when his companion failed to reply.
"Fine. One more commercial."
At least if he said it was okay he could hold on to some levels of dignity as an invader. He took a seat beside Gir, wondering why humans found the 'noisy noise thing' so amusing. It was very basic technology, and on some channels the picture left a lot to be desired. Then again, he thought, a lot of things humans found highly advanced were old news for the Irken population. Stupid humans, he thought bitterly. With further thoughts on the stupidity of humans, he leapt onto the couch beside Gir, staring dully at the television.
"Hi," chimed the person on television, "I'm Sara Ferguson, Duchess of York."
Zim briefly wondered what a Duchess of York was, how much power they had, and if he could become one.
"And I'm here to tell you about Jenny Craig's new diet, the 'Give-Me-Money-and-Get-Thin' plan! All proceeds go directly to Jenny Craig!"
Zim lowered an eyebrow, and Gir squealed happily, obviously amused. The picture cut to a very skinny looking woman, smiling a very fake smile.
"Its so easy! By giving all my money to Jenny, I ran out of money to buy food and lost incredible amounts of weight!"
The picture returned to that of Sara, and a phone number appeared on the screen.
"There you have it folks! Just call 1-888-S-C-A-M! That's right, 1-888-S-C-A-M!"
There was a pause, as both Zim and Gir comprehended what they'd just seen.
"I'm gonna call!" Gir announced, leaping off the couch, ditching his popcorn, and heading to the phone. Zim stroked his chin in thought for a moment, before leaping off the couch as well.