\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1725048-A-Weekend-at-EARLs
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: · Fiction · Fanfiction · #1725048
When Zim leaves for the weekend, Dib spends time with his most neglected, nameless minion.
EARTH DATE: FRIDAY, JUNE 13, 14:26:11

CURRENT ASSIGNED DUTY: GUARDING BASE FROM ENEMY INFILTRATION

I saw him skulking around outside the house, hiding in front of the building next door, back against the wall, peeking over every so often as though he thought he was catching me when my back was turned. I was still there, of course, but truth be told I wasn't paying him that much attention; I saw him as others might see someone out of the corner of their eye, but without letting him distract me much from what I was doing. Which, to be fair, was pretty much nothing.

I had connected to the Earth "Internet," a network of technology that struck me both as incredibly brilliant and pitifully primitive. The technology, of course, was nothing compared to me, but I had to admire the idea behind it: connecting all the computers on the planet together in a giant network for worldwide use. The Irkens had a similar process to send information, but the humans used it for far more than they did-news stories, videos, music...humans seemed to like being connected to each other, and for reasons other than issuing military reports and that sort of thing. Humans liked to be connected over stupid things too.

Hmm. There was probably something philosophical that could tell me about humans and Irkens, and the differences between them in terms of their psychologies, cultures and ways of being. If I cared enough to bother working it out, of course. But I was playing blackjack instead. Gambling over the Internet. The rules were easy enough to figure out. So was the programming, and I could have carefully analyzed and broken the code behind either one to win, but again, I couldn't be bothered.

So, anyway, I had just lost 40,000 Earth monies when I became aware that the skulking human had actually come onto the property. I sighed; I should really activate the lawn gnomes. I started to-they looked up suddenly from the ground and lifted their arms, starting to move an inch towards him, but then I powered them down. Eh. Why bother? I just didn't feel like blasting the poor fool into oblivion today.

The boy seemed a bit surprised by how easy this had become; he looked around as he walked casually up the sidewalk to the house, clearly expecting resistance, but seemed rather disconcerted when he saw that none came. He reached the front steps and paused at the door; he hesitantly knocked. He must realize that Zim isn't home, I thought. Perhaps he thinks GIR is, though-the little SIR unit had a history of aiding Zim's enemies, albeit without realizing what he was doing. But then, GIR never really realizes what he was doing, so there ya go.

Dib paused, waiting for a response. I chose not to give him one. Then he cautiously reached out to open the door, which I had, admittedly, not ever bothered to lock.

The boy walked into the house, moving slowly through the dark living room, squinting around to see if anybody was there. He moved carefully as though expecting a booby trap. It was a wise move-there were booby traps all over, but I was too lazy to activate them. I let him walk right over the trap door without sending him to the Pit of Horrible Stabbing Laser-Doom, and just couldn't muster up the energy to release the cyborg pigs hiding in the secret closet. Who, incidentally, I think I was supposed to feed...

"Hello?" the boy cautioned, speaking loudly but then faltering. "Anybody home?"

I didn't answer. He moved slowly into the kitchen and towards the toilet beside the fridge. He paused, then slowly climbed into it, wrinkling his nose. He flushed. I had not bothered to deactivate the lift, and did not do so now. He descended slowly deeper into the base.

By this time my blackjack was forgotten; all my available sensors were focusing on the boy as he slowly moved down through the house. He was nervous, jumpy-I could tell, a quick, silent scan of the elevator gave me his heart rate, blood pressure, chemical analysis of his sweat and so on. Evidently he found an empty house that had no interest in killing him more unnerving than if I had chosen to fire a few well-aimed lasers in his direction. I considered maybe cutting the anti-gravity of the elevator shaft, and sending him screaming several stories down through the base, plummeting to near-death-perhaps that would be enough danger to calm him down? But then, that might kill him...it was hard to say. How breakable was the average human's bones?

I opted not to; his landing was uneventful, and he walked slowly out into the main lab, looking around nervously. He cleared his throat. "Uh...hello? Is anybody...in here?"

"No. No one but me, anyway," I said, with a small, dejected sigh.

He jumped-for a moment he looked around wildly, then finally spotted my monitor, apparently realizing who I was and deciding this was the best part of me to address. "Oh," he said simply, gazing at me with a raised eyebrow. "Zim and his freaky little robot thing and the moose aren't here?"

"No. They're on Junkyardia until Monday, picking up a part for Zim's new doomsday weapon. It's over there," I added helpfully, motioning with my screen to the little table where the mass of metal and wires was located.

Dib turned; he walked over to the table, poking the device gingerly. "Don't worry, it doesn't work," I explained. "Nor do I think it will with the new part Zim's getting. Actually I expect it will just explode and give me a bigger mess to clean. Zim plans to plant it your locker at school, though, so you might want to be careful next week just in case it actually works."

"Oh," Dib said again, cocking his head as he examined the device, then turning away. "Thanks."

"No problem."

There was a pause. Dib kicked at the floor, clearing his throat awkwardly. He looked up at my screen, then frowned. "Are you playing Internet poker?"

"Blackjack, actually. Do you know how to play?"

"Er, not really."

"Oh. Pity." I clicked off the window, returning my screen fully to its default mode.

Another awkward pause. Dib cleared his throat. "Well, then, uh...I guess I better be going then."

"Really?"

I must have sounded a little dejected, because he paused, turning his head slightly back towards my monitor, eyebrow raised. "Yeeaahh," he said slowly, suddenly suspicious, and just a bit fearful; perhaps it now occurred to him that he couldn't leave, unless I chose to allow it. "Why?"

"It's just that..." I paused, not wanting to admit it. Then I sighed. "I'm bored. I need something to do."

Dib looked slightly surprised. "Oh," he said simply. He coughed awkwardly. "Well...my sister was kind of mad when I left, I probably shouldn't go back to the house for a couple of hours...wait," he said, suddenly suspicious again. "How do I know you're not planning to kill me, or just keep me here to collect information to give to Zim?"

I glared at him through my many sensors, annoyed. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it when I saw you skulking behind the fence. For that matter I could do it even if you tried to escape; aside from this lab and all the upstairs being filled with laser cannons, I also control the oxygen supply in the elevator shafts, and could merely stop the lift halfway up if I wanted to, draining the air supply and suffocating you in the process."

Dib blanched. My tone, which had started out irritated, became casual toward the end of my rant; watching his terror, I had to admit, drained my ire a bit. But still, his terror was only so interesting; I decided to offer him an incentive instead.

"If you stay, I could give you information on more of Zim's evil plans," I said in a wheedling, almost sing-song voice.

His expression perked up somewhat. "Well...I don't know..."

"I also have his baby pictures. Wanna see?" I flashed one on my screen, waving it temptingly.

Dib raised his eyebrows, then grinned. "You know, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."
_________________________________________________________________________________

EARTH TIME: SATURDAY, JUNE 14, 23:54:19

CURRENT ASSIGNED DUTY: MEH...

"So, are you enjoying your pizza?"

"Mmm-yeah," Dib said, picking some cheeze off of his chin and dropping it into his mouth. Before him on my keyboard was a Bloaty's Pizza Hog box, empty except for the crusts he kept throwing in as he finished each piece. He added another to the pile. "This is great. I never get to eat this much at home, Gaz always takes most of it, and she hates anchovies."

"I'm glad you like it."

He took a bite of his last, cold piece, chewing it thoughtfully. He swallowed and asked, "Hey, Zim's Computer, can I ask you a question?"

"Why not?"

"Do you have a name? I mean, the weird little robot has a name...not that I can ever remember it...and the moose-thing has a name. Do you have a name other than, you know...'Zim's Computer?'"

I sighed. "Not really, no. Zim never really thought to name me. Actually originally he tried to program me with his own personality-"

"Like Tak's ship?"

"Probably. Many Irkens do that. But that didn't work out so well-it nearly shorted me out. My programming is far too advanced to be able to handle thatkind of a malfunctioning mind. Another time GIR's brain took over the base-"

"Ah, that explains that time I saw the house running down the street, screaming for tacos-"

"Yeah. Then Zim just set me to default mode-the 'me' you're talking to now. He never thought to give me a name, though. I'm just the Computer, after all."

Dib frowned as he chewed another mouthful of pizza. "That's not fair," he said, swallowing again. "You deserve a name too."

I shrugged my screen. "It's probably better this way. He named Minimoose, and that wasn't exactly brilliant, and GIR...actually I'm not sure where his name came from. 'Garbage Idiot Robot' is my guess."

Dib laughed, throwing away his last crust. Then he paused again, coughed, and said, "Well, I think you should have a name."

"Do you have a suggestion?"

Dib thought for a moment. Then he said, "How about...EARL?"

"EARL?"

"Yeah. It could stand for...'Electronic...Artificial Robotic..." he paused, thinking of an 'L.' Then he grinned. "'Loafer.' Or something. Do you mind if I call you that?"

I cocked my screen to one side. I felt an urge to laugh. "I'd like that," I said simply. "I'd like that a lot."

Dib beamed.
_________________________________________________________________________________

EARTH DATE: MONDAY, JUNE 16, 10:14:36

CURRENT FUNCTION: VOOT CRUISER ENTERING PLANETARY ATMOSPHERE

"Doomy-doomy-doomy, dah-doom-doom, doomidy-doom-doom da-doom-doom-doom-"

"GIR!" Zim yelled, glaring at the little robot. "I am SICK of that song! SICK OF IT! Stop it! STOP IT NOW!"

GIR, amazingly, obeyed. Zim turned back to the Voot Cruiser's controls; Earth was coming into view, and he needed to prepare for landing. He opened a channel to the base's Computer, telling it to prepare for his arrival.

He got a dial tone in response.

"What the..."

"Wassamatta, mastah?"

"The base isn't responding to my calls! Wait a moment..."

Annoyed, and approaching the atmosphere of that pathetic dirtball the hyumans called a planet, Zim searched around in the glove compartment to find the automatic base roof opener, which he had, unfortunately, left at the base. He grimaced and tried contacting the base again. Again there was no response. What could be happening? Was the base in trouble, or was the Computer simply being too lazy to pick up the call?

"We'll have to land on the lawn," he grumbled, turning the cloaking field on. "Oh, the Base better have a good explanation for not answering me..."

"I LIKE BACON!" GIR cried, jumping to stand on Minimoose's antlers and throwing up his arms. Minimoose gave a happy squeak of agreement.

Zim landed the ship, now disguised as a minivan, on the sidewalk outside his lawn; the lady across the street was watering her lawn, but did not seem to notice an SUV descending from the sky as she examined her geraniums. Zim and his servants exited and made their way to the door. Zim was annoyed to see that none of his security measures were in place-the gnomes were inactive, the laser cannons silent in their trees, not even the front door was locked!

"Computer!" Zim yelled as he opened the door. "What is going on here?"

Silence. Zim stormed through the living room, GIR chasing Minimoose into the house behind him, the two robots giggling happily.

As the two began to run around in circles, Zim swept into the kitchen. "Oh, what is this?"

GIR froze; uh-oh. Master had found his mess! Then GIR remembered that he hadn't actually made this mess, so he tackled Minimoose and the two giggled as they rolled around the floor, while Zim stared in fury at what had happened to his kitchen.

The entire room was a mess. The trashcan was filled with empty pizza boxes and other debris-and the fact that it was actually not a trashcan, but a backup elevator down to his labs, made Zim even more enraged. From the looks of it someone had baked a cake; a big mixing bowl was in the sink, and batter was spilled and splashed on counters and walls, along with bits of broken egg shell and other sundry ingredients. Zim threw open the fridge door and let out a strangled cry of fury-it, too, had been attacked, with a large portion of GIR's hyuman food products gone, and, made importantly, even a bit of his own superior Irken meals nibbled upon. Furthermore the fridge was warm-had the Computer shut off all power to the upper stories?

"COMPUTER! WHAT IS GOING ON?"

Still no answer; had it been deactivated somehow? Zim slammed the fridge door and went to the toilet; his fury mounting every second, he found that even it did not work right, and only through a combination of fiddling with the tank and the use of a plunger did he finally managed to activate the lift's manual override mode. With GIR clinging to his head and Minimoose floating beside him, he descended into the base, wondering with a mixture of fury what may have happened while he was away. Perhaps someone had managed to attack and destroy the Computer?

When he arrived at the lab, though, he was met with a sight that completely astonished him.

Right there, in his lab-in his very chair, hisamazing chair of amazing Zimitude!-was none other than his arch-nemesis the disgusting Dib-beast, surrounded by mounds of hyuman filth-yet another empty pizza box, the remains of the cake he had apparently baked upstairs, a collection of dirty plates, and a floor covered in empty Poop Cola cans. The computer screen in front of him was showing a video from that pathetic and disturbing hyuman website, the "PooToob," showing a young hyuman female screeching out the latest "pop song," using her hairbrush as a microphone. The singing sounded horrible to Zim, but was apparently quite enjoyable to the Dib-he was rolling around in his chair-ZIM'S chair, ZIM'S!-holding his stomach and laughing uproariously, tears falling from behind his pathetically primitive hyuman ocular enhancers. The Computer, too, was tittering softly under his "breath," shaking the screen slightly, occasionally breaking out into louder guffaws during some of the songs more horribly amusing moments.

"Oh...I love this song," GIR said dreamily, doing a little dance with his torso, his legs still wrapped around Zim's stunned head.

The Invader was momentarily dumbstruck. But only momentarily. After about ten seconds of stunned silence his face twisted from shock to rage. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" he screamed, audible even over a particularly high screech from the tone-deaf Earth female on the screen.

"Agh!" the Dib-monster jumped, fell out of Zim'samazing chair, and looked up fearfully at the alien's arrival. "Zim!" he cried, jumping to his feet and looking around frantically, searching for something to say. "It's, uh, not what it looks like!"

"COMPUTER!" Zim roared, pointing at the horrible hyuman who was standing there, audaciously standing there in ZIM'S lab with his gigantically disgusting head of filthy filth. "INTRUDER! ATTACK!"

Instantly a laser cannon appeared from among the many robotic arms on the ceiling; Dib let out a cry and jumped out of the way, just as a blast of energy hit the spot where he had been a moment before. The robotic arm stayed on him, blasting as he ran for the elevator and disappeared inside. A moment later it was zooming up, back into the main part of the base, as Dib heard Zim's hysterical cries fade away below him.

Dib stood in the lift, panting for a moment, clutching a stitch in his chest. Then he glared up at the long passageway above him, looking supremely annoyed. "What?" said EARL, in his disinterested voice. "It's not like I was actually trying to hit you."

Dib's scowl only deepened. There was a pause, then the lighting in the shaft brightened slightly, and EARL's voice sounded less bored and more amused. "Wanna make a stop in Zim's room on the way up? I have a few laser cannons in there too."

Dib remained sullen for a moment, but then his scowl turned slowly into a grin. "I'd like that, EARL," he said with a smile. "I'd like that a lot."

And, laughing, the two friends ascended upwards into the house.
© Copyright 2010 JoeMerl (merlock at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1725048-A-Weekend-at-EARLs