Edit Feb. 2008: I have fixed some typos and other mistakes. Reading over this, I realize how childish it is. I wrote it a long time ago, but for some reason I still like it so I'm leaving it up. It does have what some might consider offensive material. But mainly it is just WEIRD and RANDOM.
The Day at WalMart Was Like a Simile
"I don't know how to take over Earth," said Zim as he stood in the parking lot. "Tell me, O mystical parking meter, how can I do it?" Zim's pleading eyes stared back at the parking meter like a clown waiting to receive its paycheck from the almighty circus leader.
"Master, what are you doing?" asked GIR curiously as he watched Zim from the end of his leash. He was as confused as a sheltered virgin in a pornography store.
"I just know this parking meter knows something important….and he won't tell me!" whined the Irken like a little blonde girl in pigtails whines for an unhappy meal from McDonald's. He grabbed the pole of the meter, and shook it violently, like a strong wind shakes the hobos' cardboard boxes. "WHY MUST YOU TAUNT ME?!"
Suddenly, the pole snapped, and the parking meter's top part fell off, like a fat guy falls down a flight of stairs. It landed by his feet. "HIS HEAD FELL OFF!" screeched Zim as he pointed to it.
"Oooh…" said GIR with awe. "He bleeds metal!" GIR bent down to pick up some of the coins split by the parking meter. They absolutely fascinated him, like a young boy is fascinated by a rather absorbent roll of paper towels. GIR admired their beauty as they sparkled in the sun; as they shone as bright as that special kind of camera flash that has you seeing weird blotches of color for a few minutes.
"Hey!" exclaimed a man dressed in a uniform angrily as he approached. "You broke Wal-Mart's parking meter! You're going to have to pay for that!"
"Wal-Mart?" asked Zim, understanding the situation as much as some public-school-educated child understands pre-calculus.
"Yes, you are in Wal-Mart's parking lot, young lady," replied the employee. "Now you must go inside and tell the manager so you can pay for that parking meter you broke."
"And if I refuse?" taunted Zim, as rebellious as a computer nerd that is forced to go the YMCA.
"You will be banned from the Almighty Wal-Mart forever! The best shopping place in the world! With so many convenient locations, we own the country!" The Wal-Mart drone laughed evilly at the Irken.
Zim's antennae perked up, like that hyper kid in your class coming off his Ridlin. Was this 'Wal-Mart' the key to enslaving the human race? What this what he lacking? Was this what he finally needed to take over Earth? Did the parking meter answer his pleas after all? Is the author on an acid trip?
Zim agreed to go inside, thinking this was just what he was looking for. "Okay then, I shall do just that, Mr. Wal-Mart-Man." Zim tugged GIR's leash, and began marching towards the doors, like some really preppy and slutty cheerleader leads a parade.
But Zim was stopped as GIR pulled back on the leash near the door. His eyes widened like two beach balls carelessly glued to his face. "Wow…." he said in wonder…..land!
Zim turned to see why GIR had stopped. He was staring at a small metal horse that cost fifty cents to ride. GIR admired it like an old guy admired the ducks in the duck pond at the park. "Oh, yay!" squealed GIR happily. "Master, can I please ride the horsey?"
"No, GIR. We don't have time. I can almost taste the sweet, sweet taste of victory, it's so close! This planet will soon be conquered!"
"What does it taste like?"
"Like a hot dog rolled around in a large tub of syrup."
"Yes, you are correct to exclaim with great taste. Now, let's go inside," commanded Zim.
"Wait!" shouted GIR as he jumped on the back of the mechanical pony. "I must ride it!" GIR pulled a few coins out of his costume that he had stolen from the parking meter. He slid two quarters into the slot, like you slide Tab A into Tab B from that piece of crap you ordered from an infomercial that doesn't work. The horse vibrated and moved back and forth. GIR squealed with joy, as happy as a suicidal man in a gun store. "Wheeeeeee!"
Zim rolled his eyes. He was as frustrated as a prep who had been pushed in the mud by that really quiet kid who never says anything until he finally loses it and goes on an emotional rampage. "Come ON, GIR. Let's go!"
GIR's fun-filled ride came to an abrupt stop as the time ran out. Tears streamed down his face like two big leaks in the sewage line. "Aw…..I miss you horsey."
"Do not quote yourself, GIR, as you have already said that about cupcakes. That line is now as famous as the quote 'Life sucks, then you die'," said Zim.
"Really?" as GIR, looking up.
"Nope, I lied."
"NOW, let's go!" He turned to go through the automatic doors. They watched the various Wal-Mart customers go in and out of them. GIR thought this was as magical as Harry Potter and the Sorcerers That Got Stoned.
"Ooh, master, look at me!" GIR ran in front of one of the doors. It opened, but he ran away. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed. He ran back, and it opened. He ran away, and it closed…………………………………………………………………..the writer is a nutcase who knows how to use the control c and v buttons….
"GIR, stop it!" ordered Zim. "We really need to go inside!" Zim grabbed the robot by the ears, like a magician grabs a rabbit's to pull it out of a hat to amaze millions of spectators who have nothing better to do than pay someone to fool them. Zim dragged GIR inside of Wal-Mart, only to drop him violently to the ground as he stood in awe at the incredible size of the place. "Wow…this is 'Wal-Mart' is amazing!" exclaimed Zim, with joy lighting his features like a computer lights up the dark room of a computer geek who forgets to turn on the lights when the sun goes down.
GIR was also astonished by the oh-so-great wonderfulness of the store. "I wanna buy several Ziploc baggies and some chalk dust!"
"No, GIR. First we must speak with the 'manager', about that parking meter. And after that, TAKE OVER WALMART!"
"Is that the manager?" asked GIR, looking at singing fish attached to a piece of wood.
"No, I don't think so," replied Zim. He was as confused as Britney Spears in a science museum.
"Let's ask that legless man!" suggested GIR as he pointed to a cashier.
Zim walked up to the disabled and overweight man to ask. "Excuse me, legless dude, do you know where I can find the manager?"
"I am not legless!" replied the man angrily. "I have nubs!"
"Uh….riiight…well whatever. Do you know where the manager's office is?"
"I might. Follow me." The man jumped off his little stool and began waddling down an aisle like a constipated penguin. Zim and GIR timidly followed, not sure as what to make of the situation. "I love walking around on my nubs!" shouted the man as loudly as he could.
Zim and GIR just turned to each other and laughed as they followed him. It was as funny as old people falling.
The man turned around and looked at them. "Oh, and by the way, my name is Bob. But you can call me Mr. Chernaburger for short, okay?"
Zim and GIR ignored him and just kept laughing at how funny he looked.
Nearby, Gaz stood watching her annoying brother. "You're not supposed to mess with that," she said, annoyed.
Dib sat on one of those little tricycles with training wheel that three- year-olds ride. He rang the little bell, which was as lame as having your grandma announce to the class the true identity of your sexuality if you're gay. "I'm just taking it for a test drive."
Gaz growled and looked up. "Hey, isn't that Zim? The boy you have a crush on?" she asked as she pointed to the Irken, who was passing by with Mr. Chernaburger and GIR.
"Where?!" asked Dib, as surprised as a teacher who comes to skool to realize that her chair was stapled to the ceiling. He then realized the second thing she said. "I don't like Zim!"
"Sure ya don't."
"Come on, let's follow him." Dib grabbed a pimp hat, complete with feather and leopard print, from a shelf and narrowed his eyes. "Let's roll…"
As Zim passed the auto department, GIR disappeared into one of the many rows of shelves. He reappeared, holding two funnels to his chest. "Look, master!" he called. "I'm Britney Spears!"
"GIR, stop that. I don't want to have to pay for anything else. It's bad enough that—" Zim was cut off as an announcement was made over the P.A. system.
"I have a customer in the electronics department who needs assistance," it said.
"Oh no!" screeched Mr. Chernaburger as he stopped 'walking'. "It's those voices again! They're after me!"
Zim and GIR exchanged nervous glances. This guy was crazier than that little blue monkey that lives in the zoo that steals all the children's cheese and crackers.
"Um….can we please just get to the manager's office?" asked Zim, getting annoyed as Invader Zim fans when the words "Rocket Power" arise in a conversation.
"Fine, whatever," agreed the legless man as gruffly as that troll that tried to eat those goats under the bridge.
So they continued to walk around in Wal-Mart, looking for the manager. GIR, however, began to get bored again; his attention span was as short as the author's was--hey! Look! A fly! (author runs off, chasing the fly)
But little did they know that they were being tailed by a pair of persistent, and probably pretty bored, siblings. Gaz sighed, irritated once more. "Leave that mannequin alone, Dib," ordered Gaz.
Dib continued to adjust the mannequin's clothes. "I just don't think that skirt matched that blouse. And don't even get me started on the shoes…I mean, pa-lease!"
Gaz rolled her eyes and noticed that Zim was getting too far ahead. "Your boyfriend's getting away."
"Oh, no!" shouted Dib. "Zim! I must stop him!" He ran down the aisle like a track star with a pole stuck up his ass.
But back to Zim. They were now getting pretty close to the manager's office; close as when you try to reach the ketchup from your seat, but it's just out of reach. But, once again, GIR became distracted. He saw a bubble gum machine, and remembered he still had some change in his costume left to spend.
Running away from his master's side, like a Little Bo Peep's sheep ran away from her, GIR strayed to the machine. "Ooh! Gum!" He placed the quarter in the slot, and turned the little turnie thingy. A gumball popped out, like the third Rice Krispy's elf. But then another did, and another, and another, and then about a million more!
"GIR, you broke the machine!" exclaimed Zim frantically as he watched the hundreds of gumballs fall to the floor; like an avalanche of rocks falling to several unknowing picnickers below.
The little SIR sucked them up into in his mouth, like a toilet sucks up all the water in the bowl. "Mmmmm! Tastes like conquering!" He started to chew, but had some difficulty due to the fact that hundreds of pieces were in his mouth.
Zim let out an exasperated sigh. "GIR….we're never going to get to the manager if you don't stop messing around with yourself."
BACK TO DIB AND GAZ…
Dib and Gaz crouched behind a large rack of beach balls as they secretly observed Zim. Well, Dib did. Gaz was playing her Game Slave and didn't really give a rat's ass.
"Look at that!" yelled Dib to his sister. "His stupid robot ruined the gum machine!"
"That gum tasted like tar that had been run over by twelve cars and stepped on by circus freaks," grumbled Gaz.
"Please don't talk like the author. That really scares me."
"Excuse me, young man," said a female Wal-Mart employee as she walked up to the children. "Do you need any help?"
'If I can get the manager over here, then Zim won't be able to find him without going through me...' thought Dib. '…and that way, Earth, and Wal-Mart, will be safe!'
"Yes, actually I do," he answered out loud. "I need help, but I need to speak with the manager."
"Okay, hold on." The woman pulled a walkie-talkie out of her pocket and held it to her mouth. "Attention, manager," she said, over the P.A. system. "I have a boy by the balls who needs assistance."
Dib growled like a dog who just found out he was going to be neutered. "Thanks," he replied sarcastically.
"I know it's around here somewhere…." said Mr. Chernaburger as he continued to search for the manager's office.
Zim was growing ever frustrated at the ignorant, and legless, man. GIR continued to chew the gum, like a savage llama chews her young. "Moo!!" he cried.
"Hurry up, you freak of nature!" demanded Zim.
"Hold on, hold on," said Mr. Chernaburger. "I think I've almost found it…"
As suddenly as the author realized how stupid this story sounds, Dib jumped out of one of the aisles and landed in front of Zim. He wielded a cardboard tube of wrapping paper, in a battle stance. "En guard!"
Zim, too, grabbed a tube of gift-wrap. They rushed at each other, shouting battle cries, like one train coming from St. Louis at 58.6 miles per hour, and another coming from Memphis at 67.2 miles per hour. Violently smacking the tubes, and dodging each other's swipes, the two boys combated. They fought like drugged up fencers after a New Year's Eve Party.
"I choose you, Zim-achu!" shouted GIR, still with the wad of gum in his mouth. "Use your thundershock attack!"
Zim didn't have a clue what GIR was blithering about, so he just ignored him and continued to fight.
GIR grabbed two action figures off the toy shelf; one was Superman, and the other was Batman. He pushed them together, making 'lasery' sound effects. "Fight, fight!" he cheered to his dolls, as he imitated the battle. "Jerry, Jerry!" he chanted.
Gaz rolled her eyes once more. "I'm surrounded by idiots."
"As the manager, I strictly forbid this kind of behavior in my wonderful Wal-Mart store!" said Mr. Chernaburger angrily.
The fight came to a sudden stop. "You're the manager?!" screamed Zim, as the full taste of irony enveloped him.
"Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place?!"
"You asked to see my office, not me. I always forget where it's at."
Zim stood, as baffled as the readers of this story must be from how fucked up it really is. And as he did, Dib tried to make the finishing move, and win the fight. But, luckily, GIR noticed. Quickly, he blew a large bubble gum bubble and started to float away. As he did, he grabbed Zim's hand and took the Irken with him.
"Whoa! GIR! We're flying!"
GIR giggled like a really high, preppy high school girl. "I know!"
Zim used his PAK to shoot a hole through the ceiling so they could escape, like a mouse shoots a hole through the wall to make a home. They floated through it and out into the sky.
Dib looked up and shook his fist angrily as they rose out of his reach. "Curse you, Zim!"
As Zim and GIR floated above and away from Wal-Mart, a sense of victory filled Zim. "Well, GIR, I guess we won. We didn't have to pay for the parking meter, and escaped the Dib-worm."
GIR released the gum from his mouth. "But we didn't find out how to take over Earth from Wal-Mart."
"GIR!" screamed Zim frantically. "You let go of the gum! Now the air is going to--" Zim was interrupted as the bubble quickly deflated and plummeted to the ground. They landed violently in a tree, and Zim hit every branch as he tumbled down it, like a bag of bricks tumbles in the dryer.
When he reached the bottom, he opened his eyes and moaned with pain. He noticed they were only out in the parking lot. They had crashed in one of those pathetic looking trees people plant. You know what I'm talking about. "GIR…?"
"Do you still have any quarters left?"
"Yeah," he replied as he handed one over to Zim.
Zim took it, and threw it at Wal-Mart. It shattered the automatic doors on impact. A few kids screamed with pain as the glass cut their faces and got in their eyes.
Zim sighed. "This day as been as whack as that parrot in the mall who sings stories about epic heroes in the winter by the escalator in the mall that little kids like to run up even though it's a down escalator, and eventually fall off to have to go to the doctor's office, which gives out those lollipops that give people anthrax if they don't have a flu shot, and no one ever does because the line is so long due to so many old people who play golf on Sundays and drive slow then too but then after that it's just another manic Monday, but luckily those days fade into weeks, and weeks into months, and months into blow-pops, and blow-pops into years, and then it's winter again, when that parrot in the mall sings about epic heroes……"