The setting sun reflected in Dib's glasses as it dissapeared below the horrizon of the Big Easy. He sat on the porch of the Skellelaire Manor, adjusting his flash camera. He had made it to where he could take a picture without the bulb alerting the target. And today the target was Zim.
Zim appeared on Earth six years ago, when Dib was just a school boy. Dib and his sister had always been very smart and always knew things the other children didn't. It could only be expected from the offspring of a famous scientist. But it was this intellect that attracted the other's wraths. They felt the siblings were trying to be better than them. They resented the Skellelaires. So when Dib tried to alert them to Zim's green skin, they were easily satisfied with his explaination of "green sickness".
Ever since then it has become a daily ritual to attack eachother and exchange insults. And every time Zim has been defeated. Yet Dib never won either. Well, there was the time they joined forces...
Dib sighed and glanced at the stars starting to apear, a familiar grief stabbing his heart. Tak, his first friend, his first kiss, his childhood angel was a demon from the stars. He studied Zim and knew everything there was to know about their kind... and Tak turned out to be one of them.
He narrowed his eyes and went inside and up to his room. Things were going to change. And with this proof, he'll stop Zim for once and for all. Dib knelt down in his closet and pulled up a floorboard, placing the camera in the hollowed space beneath it. After setting the board back, he yawned and flopped down on his bed.
He couldn't wait to tell Gaz. Dib wasn't completly alone, though she was feircely independent, his sister was his closest friend. Despite being very smart, they had something in common. Good old fashion voodoo. Dib was not as good as Gaz, one spell going terribly wrong and making her taste pork. But after a severe beating, she rolled her eyes and revealed what she knew of her talents. As long as he promised not to do harm to others. She could, but that was different.
Dib rolled his eyes, "Hypocryte..."
So turning on the lamp, he reached over to his small radio and tuned in to his favorite program, mysterious mysteries. An hour later he was fast asleep, leaving the time to go unnoticed...
Gaz smirked as she threw down her cards, watching her comrades' faces fall in dissapointment.
"Full house, boys... pay up." She tapped her fingers as the men groaned, forking over what money they had left.
"Aren't you rich, or something?" One man asked, throwing down his last few cents.
"No, my father is rich. I have nothing. Nothing but your money." Gaz replied, downing her whiskey and savoring the warmth that followed.
"I'm broke..." One man said.
Gaz eyed him, "What about that pocket watch your so fond of?"
"But it was my father's, I was going to give it to my son." He clutched it protectively.
"Oh..." Gaz considered this, "That just makes it a shame that I have to take it, but a bet's a bet."
It was 1921 and prohibition had been in affect for two years now. Gaz was not a heavy drinker, she can hold her liqour better than a sailor despite her young age, but gambling was a different matter. And Gaz never loses. Never. And it was all thanks to the lucky charm her mother had left her, which hung around her neck.
The man's lip trembled as he handed her the gold watch. Pleased, Gaz flipped it open in a taunting manner and stopped. 11:42?
"Shit..." Gaz hissed, jumping up and sliding all the money off the table into her purse. She waved bye to the bartender and ran out the bar disguised as a fabric shop.
Gaz ran down the streets, her heels clacking against the road. She had told Dib she would be home by 8. Odds are he was too preocupied with Zim to notice her missing, but there have been the rare occasions he would catch her sneaking in and threaten to call their father away from India, where he was working on a cure for a local epidemic.
Gaz sighed in relief to see the light in Dib's room of from his window and jazz music drifting from his radio. He always falls asleep when listening to mysterious mysteries. It was pretty boring...
Taking of her heels so she would not make any noise on the hardwood floors, she gently eased open the screen door and making sure it didn't slam behind her. As she took the first step on the stairs, a cold pressure invaded the back of her neck.
"Move and I will shoot."
"...what?" Gaz hissed and turned around to face a pudgy man around her age, greenish blond hair plastered to his face.
"Dammit, what did I just say?" He shook the gun threateningly at her.
"Like I care."
"You will. Now to decide who to kill first, you or your freak brother?"
Gaz was livid, "Whatever this is about, why drag my brother into it?"
Iggins narrowed his eyes before snarling, "I want you to feel pain. As much as possible. You nearly crippled me, and stole my money..."
"It was my money! You cheated, I was just taking what was rightfully mine!" Gaz snapped.
"Do you dknow what happened afterwards?" Iggins trembled in fury, "Do you have any idea what it is like to tell your mother a girl, a girl, broke your leg? And no money for a doctor! And then to have to tell her why..."
Gaz stared at him with an unreadable expression before replying in a calmer tone, "I'm sorry for your misfortune, but as I recall it was the fall that broke your leg. And none of it would've happened if you just gave me the money the first time I asked."
"None of it would've happened if you hadn't been there! Who do you think you are? When playing with the big boys, ya gotta learn to lose.." He grabbed her by her hair and threw her to the floor with a thud before aiming the gun, the safety clicking off, "And baby, you just lost..."
Gaz closed her eyes waiting for a bullet in the head. She heard a ripping sound and gasping. Curious, she looked up to see a sharp metal object protruding from Iggin's stomach. Blood oozed to the floor. Gaz jumped up and backed away, trying to regain her composure.
With a final gasp, Iggins closed his eyes and slumped over. The metal object moved, a familar voice muttering, "...filthy human..."
Zim pushed the dead man off his spider appendage, looking at the blood in disgust. He shook his head and hoped to find baconless soap later on. Gaz squared her shoulders, trying to look as dignified as she could after being thrown on the floor with a gun to her head.
Zim's red eyes flashed behind his contacts before he smirked tauntingly, "What, no thank you?"