Chapter Text
“Log date: Six complete rotations since landing. Seventh rotation in progress. Exactly… four Earth hours until completion.”
The filthy apartment was looking as pathetic as ever.
Keef and GIR seemed to be joyfully working on something in the kitchen. Zim was still sulking in the couch, spitting slurred insults at an oatmeal commercial.
“While the underground route I have cleverly designed has yet to acquire sufficient depth, acceptable progress has been made…” continued Speck, resignedly recording on Keef’s borrowed phone “If my calculations are correct, we should reach the base in probably thirty more rotations if we’re lucky. So help me. Invader Speck, signing off.”
Then he did indeed end the recording with a dejected sigh, and went to the kitchen.
GIR was shoving his head into a pot, seemingly stirring its contents.
“I’m making mashed potatoes!” he said, and Speck could only give an acknowledging nod.
“Good job, GIR! It’ll go great with this!” beamed Keef.
He was preparing some kind of casserole.
Speck approached and tugged at his shirt with one hand, while holding out the phone with the other.
“Oh hey, little buddy!” grinned Keef “Did you finish that ‘report’ of yours?”
“I have finished, yes…” replied the pint-sized Irken, somewhat wearily, to then look around “What about you, Keef human, how is this… foodening going?”
The human in question couldn’t help giggling at such response, making him frown in both annoyance and confusion.
“Man, you’re so much like him!” he said, with nauseating tenderness “You’re definitely his son…”
Speck squinted.
“Oh yeah, you guys have another name for it, don’t you?” continued Keef, now amusedly rubbing his chin “What was it again? Human worm baby?”
“AH! Yes!” realized Speck, upon quickly recalling Zim’s masquerading instructions “Master Zim’s human worm baby! That I am!”
“And I’m a mongoose.” added GIR in the background.
The repulsive human giggled some more, as repulsively as before, and ruffled Speck’s perfectly normal baseball cap.
“And you’re both cutie pies!” he said, making embarrassing finger guns “Now, GIR, let’s get this over with so we can set the table! Our guest could be here anytime soon, you know!”
“Someone’s COMING!” screeched the little dog thing, seemingly getting so excited about it that he rocketed out of the pot and through the ceiling.
Keef dared to laugh even more, and Speck just stared.
At first, he would struggle to make sense of the allegedly advanced robot’s behavior, but at this point he had already learned to just stare.
Stare in wonder at what was clearly too advanced to understand with basic logic.
“Alright then!” concluded Keef, then looking back at the human worm baby “Speck, sweetie , could you set the table while I check on those mashed potatoes?”
“…Who’s coming?” inquired Speck, antennae flicking under the cap.
Keef smiled in a more knowing, more scheming manner.
“Let’s just say Operation Cheering Zim Up is already in motion.” he replied, now getting the smallest one to actually smile back.
“Is that so?” he said, alien eyes lighting up behind the sunglasses, to then shift into a more rigid stance and salute “Very well! For the sake of Master Zim I shall then set this table!”
And so he did.
After a good couple of inexperienced attempts.
Because nothing, absolutely nothing would make the lowly Speck more ecstatic than seeing his lifelong idol, the Great and Powerful Invader Zim, finally accomplishing his mission.
What a fool.
“What is all that noise?” grumbled Zim from the couch “Can’t you gasquiggasplorchs see I’m monitoring over here?”
“You’re always monitoring, Zim!” chuckled Keef from the kitchen, as Speck approached and accordingly began to excuse himself.
“My deepest apologies, sir, we were merely making arrangements for this visit-”
“VISIT!? ” interrupted Zim, suddenly turning around and standing on the couch “You mean INTRUDERS!? In our provisional BASE!? ”
“Whoa, buddy, you’re moving!” grinned Keef, now walking in “But yes, I invited someone! Someone special…”
And now smiling in that way again.
Zim was seething but also innerly writhing in horror, having a bad feeling about who this someone could be.
But maybe… maybe it was just one of those pizza drones. Yes . Maybe it was just that. They were special for GIR.
“I explicitly stated that this filthy home would now become an EXPLOSION ZONE! Meaning no pig smelling human besides you, the captive one, should enter, EVER!” continued the veteran Irken, doing his best to conceal the growing apprehension
And the fact that he just couldn’t get rid of Keef.
“But, sir…” intervened Speck, timidly raising a hand “You also deemed the Keef human too stupid to think. Therefore, it would have been highly possible for him to not properly process your orders.”
“SILENCE!” hollered Zim, clenching a threatening fist “Cancel this visit AT ONCE!”
“No, Zim.” replied Keef, suddenly getting serious “We won’t cancel it.”
And he was going to keep talking, to unfold an entire sickening speech regarding how sad this situation was, how sad his best friend truly was, and how this was for his own good and he would thank them later.
But then the doorbell went off.
Both Zim and Speck gasped, as Keef smiled again.
Almost eerily.
“He’s here… ”
And then lunged at the door.
“SPECK!” screeched Zim, effectively turning to Speck “Go find GIR and- WHERE IS YOUR DISGUISE!?”
“Right here, Master Zim!” yelped the tinier Irken, gesturing towards his cap and sunglasses, and Zim nearly ripped his antennae out.
“And you call yourself APPRENTICE OF ZIM!?” he kept screeching, now rapidly grabbing and dragging Speck away “You’re getting a better one. NOW!”
The last thing they heard before momentarily exiting the scene was the door opening…
“Buddy! I’m so glad you could make it!”
Keef’s stupid greeting…
“Hey, Keef! It’s been a while for sure!”
And that voice.
That voice.
That ugly voice.