WARNING!
*I don't claim to own Invader Zim. This is Viacom's baby I'm messing with here, not counting how the characters and concepts are technically Mr. V's brainkids.
*I'm not seeing any money from this, either, so in the grand scheme of the universe, these two facts should somehow balance out. Hopefully.
*This fanfic contains depictions of sex most foul. Gasp, that's right: the kind that takes place in an intergalactic fast food restaurant. If you're under the legal age to read about sexual power struggles between two (supposedly) male aliens where you're at, save us both the headache and don't read it, okay? This shouldn't be too complicated a concept. The Back button is there if you need it.
With that said... grab the popcorn and donuts, strap yourself in, and enjoy the show, folks!
-----
Work Sucks
by Apricot the Gerbil
"...And you know another thing?" Zim asked, jabbing his pointed finger at the glaring neon lights outside the window. "OUT THERE! He's out there, somewhere... that ffff-ILL-thy little human DIB, off on the planet I'm supposed to be conquering right now! He's out there, sleeping another pathetic night away on that dirt ball of his..."
He grabbed another handful of Kroog Crunchies from the bag in front of him, wolfing them down with hardly a pause. "I wish I could sleep sometimes... Do you see the lights out there?" Another jab. "SEE THEM?! They're NEVER off! EVER! There hasn't been anything like a nighttime on this dump since I came here! And it's been WEEKS! This place NEVER CLOSES!"
Zim raised himself to his full, if still rather unimpressive, height, bellowing into the face of the customer he was seated across from. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TORTURE THIS IS?!!"
The customer blinked back at him. "You're not going to leave anytime soon, are you?"
"Of COURSE you don't!" Zim shouted back, waving his arms as if in the throes of some strange seizure. The customer sighed, glad that he had never given his name to this odd little service drone in all these weeks. The Irken stayed here babbling long enough as it was. It was fun to watch it scream like this, though. The customer was very easily entertained.
Zim shook in his boundless rage, muttering on until he hardly even knew what he was saying to the idiotic brown alien in front of him. He had to let this out, whenever his meager breaks would allow him, or he swore he would explode from sheer spite. This fool he was facing was the only customer who would stay there and listen when he would vent like he this. If he tried anyone else in the restaurant, they would complain. And Zim couldn't let that happen.
If the customers were complaining about him, HE would find out. HE, spoken in such a way that one would immediately know it was in capital letters. The one being who was making sure Zim was in agony every second he was back in Foodcourtia. The brown customer heard about HIM all the time, but never HIS name. Zim hissed whenever he so much as thought that loathsome word.
SIZZ-LORR...
"So... can I have some of those Crunchies, by the way? I... I kinda bought them..." the customer asked, monotone as ever.
Zim paid him no mind. He was too busy boiling in his own thoughts.
He could remember how long it had been exactly, if he thought hard enough. Eleven days, five hours, two minutes. That was how long ago Zim had started thinking of his boss as HIM, and not by the name "Sizz-Lorr." Certainly not "My FryLord," as Zim had been instructed to call his boss. He would only spit that title to HIM when he absolutely had to. HE didn't deserve a name. Not after what HE had done to his amazing Zim self...
---
Zim had been on toilet duty when it happened first. A clever plan, Zim had to admit. No one came back to the stalls unless they absolutely had to. There were so many kinds of aliens among the customers... so many ways the toilets could smell like so many kinds of horrible. The stench was so bad, Zim could never tell when HE was coming. Not until it was far too late to hide.
Of course, eleven days (and five hours and three minutes) ago, Zim hadn't even thought of hiding. He just looked up from his scrubbing to see HIM standing there, cracking HIS knuckles and wearing a grin as dirty-looking as HIS apron.
"Enjoying yourself?" Sizz-Lorr said with a sneer, bending down to fix his employee with an eye-to-eye stare. "Been a while since you've had to actually work, I'll bet."
Zim muttered, skidding his brush along the scum. "I do just fine..."
"Oh, really?" The grin got wider, as if this amused HIM. "When was your last break, hm?"
"Over half a day ago," Zim said darkly.
"Try twenty years and see how fresh you feel," his boss shot back, and stood up again, towering over Zim. "So you want a break, I take it?"
"Yes!" hissed Zim, his brow crumpling as he added, "...urgh... My FryLord."
"Yeah? Then earn it."
Zim blinked, confused. "...Uhh?"
Sizz-Lorr stared back, gritting his teeth. "I've been working all day now, and you haven't seen me complain one bit, have ya?" He grasped at the front of his apron with a huge, gloved hand. "S'not like I couldn't use some help calming down once in a while, either."
More blank blinking. Zim glanced at the toilet next to him. "Do you need to throw up or something? 'Cause I can leave, if..."
"Sure are a dense one, aren't ya?" Sizz-Lorr shook his head, bringing his other massive hand over to clench Zim's tiny shoulder. Using hardly any effort, he dragged his employee closer to the spotty cloth of his apron. "Do I have to draw you a picture? I want you... to help me... with THIS!" With a rustle, Sizz-Lorr swept his apron upwards.
Zim balked, squalling at the sight. There, not a few inches away from him, was a twitching, veined stump of green, drooping over some kind of swollen lump-- like some bizarre tumor had set up shop between his boss's legs. "WHAT... is THAT?!" he gasped.
Sizz-Lorr let out a rumbling laugh. "You mean you've never even--"
"No, SERIOUSLY!" Zim interrupted. "I've never seen a single Irken who has anything like that down there!" He lifted a finger closer to point at it, hesitantly, as if the pulsing mass would bite him if he got too close.
"What? ...I've always had this! I don't know!" Sizz-Lorr mumbled, suddenly sounding embarrassed. He let the apron fall back again.
Zim kept going, as if entranced by sheer disgust. "How on IRK did you manage to get unbottled with an such an ugly thing growing on you?!"
"I just... I-- oh, just SHUT UP!" Sizz-Lorr growled, his features twisting to impatient anger. A quick grab, and Zim found himself dangling from the clutch of Sizz-Lorr's closed fists; his boss turned him to and fro, closer to his line of sight. "You mean you don't have anything down here?"
"NO!" yelled Zim, lashing his limbs against the sudden inspection. He let out a squawk as Sizz-Lorr flipped back his smock and started tugging down the pants of his Irken uniform. "HEY! What're you trying to do?! That's INVADER PROPERTY you're messing with there!!"
"Tch. Give that Invader story a break, will ya?" muttered Sizz-Lorr. He grunted in disapproval, letting the black fabric snap back onto Zim's body. "Nothing! How am I supposed to..."
Sizz-Lorr trailed off, an idea dawning on him. Eyes fixed on Zim's back, he turned his employee around in his hands like a screeching doll. "You ever get grease caught inside your PAK, Zim?"
Zim stopped flailing long enough to gulp. "Wouldn't that kill you?"
"Nope. Happened to me lots of times while workin' the grills. You don't die... It just hurts like nothin' else. Like it does if anything else gets into the holes."
Zim shuddered at the gloating sound his boss's voice had gained. Those big gloves were stroking down along the smooth metal of Zim's PAK...
CHNK.
It felt like Zim's spine had just been ripped out. He screamed, twisting in Sizz-Lorr's grip. How?! How could anyone dare try tearing such a precious thing from the almighty ZIM? He gaped dazedly ahead, recoiling from the pain... only to have his eyes refocus upon the sight of his very own ID-PAK, twitching and sparking in his boss's hand.
"HOW COULD YOU--" he started to yell, only to be silenced by Sizz-Lorr's strangling grip.
"I didn't want to do this, Zim," Sizz-Lorr spat, "but you just couldn't shut up, could you?" He bent over, squashing the PAK in place under one huge, metal-booted foot. His newly freed hand disappeared underneath his spotty apron. "Always have to keep whining... you're never gonna learn unless I teach you a lesson!"
Zim fell silent, his arms struggling against the glove encircling his neck. His eyes settled on where his boss's other hand had slipped to, as Sizz-Lorr's eyes narrowed tight. Heavy grunts of breath snorted out against Zim's work goggles, fogging the lenses up as the hidden glove moved in harsh jerks, up against the apron and back away, up and away, almost hypnotic to Zim's pain-fogged mind.
Sizz-Lorr let out a pleased, gravelly growl after a few moments of this strange motion. A sadistic grin glinted across his face; it was the last thing Zim saw, as his boss turned him to face the bathroom wall.
"Now... time for your first lesson, Zim..."
Choking against the steely grip on his body, Zim flailed in panic. He was being shoved down against his boss-- something was trying to plug the hole where his ID-PAK should be connected!
Zim kicked his legs, opened his mouth in silent protest-- nothing worked. He couldn't move an inch. All he could do was feel the horrible, thick whatever-it-was as it was crammed into him from behind. Even as his brain felt fuzzy, his strength sapping away from his PAKless body, Zim's mind screamed but one thought: This shouldn't be happening! Zim was INVINCIBLE!
He could still hear Sizz-Lorr's voice grunting to him between the thrusts, a wavering sound cutting through the jabs of agony. "You remember this... got it? Not a soul can hear us back here. Nobody cares... I could crush your PAK to bits-- you could die... and no one would notice!"
The voice twisted into tense, bellowing shouts, uttered through clenched teeth. "When you're-- when you're here, Zim... you... are... MINE!!"
To Zim's addled brain, the last word seemed to come through as not only a sound, but a feeling. White hot, far too quick to anticipate. Liquid pain, injected right into his brain...
Zim's mouth strained open, trying to form words.
Nothing came.
CHNK.
The familiar weight of Zim's PAK pressed into his body, wires rejoining at the speed of blind instinct. Even with the pain of whatever was now sizzling through the PAK's holes, it felt like a breath of fresh air bursting through the sinuses of a flu victim.
Zim blinked, shuddering; the outside world was slowly coming back into focus. He was still caught in a crushing grip, but had been turned around. As he came to, the first thing he saw was Sizz-Lorr's gloating face...
No.
Zim could not be defeated. Whatever just happened, didn't happen. It couldn't have.
Sizz-Lorr frowned at what his employee had just said. "What?" he growled.
"No..." gurgled Zim.
"Oh, yes, Zim. Yes, it's so very true. Learning the truth can hurt, hm?"
"NO."
"Shut up..." Sizz-Lorr threatened, eyes narrowing.
"NO--!" Zim's voice rasped louder, echoing weakly against the toilet stall walls.
"YES!" bellowed Sizz-Lorr, shaking Zim in his grip. "Now shut u--"
"NOOOOOO!"
"Okay thatÕs it." Sizz-Lorr twitched, his face burning dark green in rage. "Seems you need another lesson, don't you, Zim?" He grabbed at his apron, tearing the fasteners off in one sharp yank and letting the filthy cloth fall to the floor. The globs of hanging flesh, now wet and glistening with some foul new mystery coating, stood throbbing before Zim's disgusted eyes.
"Lesson two. If you're not gonna shut up..."
Zim could only watch as Sizz-Lorr aimed the thick, stumpy muscle ever closer to his mouth. He tried telling his body to struggle, to break free like he should be able to... but felt the crushing pressure of fists return at the first attempt.
"...then I'm going to make you shut up."
Zim whimpered, feeling his jaw being pried open.
The deep, rumbling coo of Sizz-Lorr's voice only mocked him more.
"As many times as I have to..."
Outside the stall doors, a lone Planet Jacker wandered closer. She paused, eyes startled wide, at the raspy scream that broke through the murmuring on the other side of the door. The noise choked away into quick huffs and what sounded like bits of sobbing.
The Jacker quickly made her way back to the restaurant booths, deciding she could hold it a while longer.
---
"So if this whole thing's making you so upset, why don't you just try something else?"
Zim snapped back to the present. He looked this way and that, confused, and fixed the ever-calm customer before him with a glare. "What did you hear?!"
The alien shrugged. "Just what you were saying. Somebody's been forcing you to suck him off for over a week, nobody's bothering to listen to you if you try complaining, and you've pretty much been wallowing in a pit of anger and despair since whoever-this-HE-guy-is started questioning your sense of infallibility."
Nodding to close the end of his statement, the brown alien took the last handful from the Kroog Crunchies bag and chewed silently.
Zim blinked at the customer.
An awkward pause ensued.
"Um. Yes, that's about it," Zim stammered at last. Murmuring quietly, he added, "But... I, er. Tell anyone else about that and I'll have to destroy you, y'know."
"Okeedokee," the alien replied. "But you said yourself that the HIM guy keeps making you question your pride, if I'm hearing right. If you're so concerned about beating everyone's challenges, and you don't have any other options here, why not just treat this as another challenge?"
"Hmm..." Zim mulled this over to himself silently. Before long, a sneaky grin curled its way across his face. "Yes. Yeeeesss, that's PERFECT." He turned to face the customer again, pointing at the untouched paper sack still left on the tray. "Hey, can I have a Vort Dog?"
"Uh. Yeah, I guess." shrugged the alien.
Zim uttered a victory squeak, wobbling his fists in the air, before grabbing the bag and reaching inside. He brought back a thick, steaming Dog in his clutches, measuring the length silently with his hands, bringing the end of it up to his mouth...
"Hey. Whoa. Hang on there."
Zim stopped, looking back at the customer.
"Are you gonna do what I think you're gonna do with that?" the alien asked.
A pause. "Probably," Zim replied.
The customer shook his head. "You can have the whole bag. Just... just don't do that here, okay?"
Zim gave an affirmative grunt, smiling. Grabbing the bag of Vort Dogs, he hopped out from the booth and towards the employee break room/supply closet, his face radiating a steely determination.
The customer sighed, staring down at his empty tray.
---
"Hello welcome to Shloogorg's may I take your order." Zim fidgeted behind the front counter, impatient for the alien before him to say something.
The customer, a cloaked thing that looked as if a squid was growing out of its mouth, mumbled something wet-sounding through its tentacles. Zim tapped some random buttons, took the customer's moneys, and mumbled a 'thankyou.' Ducking down quickly to avoid being hit by an automated meal tray zooming overhead, Zim glared over his shoulder towards the kitchen, back at the frygrill HE was standing over.
It'd been a long day.
Zim had been practicing with every break he managed to get, finally getting to a point where he was sure he'd mastered what would be needed for this next challenge of his. All that, and HE still hadn't made a move. Hadn't even taken a break yet, either.
Zim hated to admit it, but for a sadistic, foul-smelling psycho with a freakish geyser for a crotch, his boss did have an excellent work ethic.
Ah, but what was this? Zim's antennae perked to attention under his worker-uniform hat. He watched in silence as Sizz-Lorr began to shift about, crouching down for a moment. He lumbered over to the corner, retying his dirty apron farther around the back, making it harder to notice he'd just taken off his pants... Zim's brow furrowed, though he couldn't help gloating. HE didn't seem to notice HE was being watched.
"ZIM!" came his boss's voice. "Your shift up there's over. Go back and clean the toilets, will ya?" Zim's face brightened. Finally, his chance was coming!
As Zim approached the stalls, though, his joy was temporarily deflated. High-pitched giggling could just barely be heard from over a constant flushing sound, over and over. Zim growled to himself. "What is it this time?" he muttered.
Swinging open a stall door that was half ajar, Zim found two Cone Faces hovering in midair, shrieking with laughter. They didn't even seem to be aware of the newcomer nearby, tapping their pointed, metal feet (if one could call the end of a cone a foot) against the toilet-flusher button in endless little jabs. "HEY--! Cut that out!" Zim shouted, waving his arms in the air.
The Cones stopped, turning to look at him in surprise. "Wha'? Why?" asked one.
"Yeah, this is just, like, SO COOL! You push this thing and it sounds all angry an' stuff!" piped the other.
"No, it ISN'T! That's not the toilet that sounds angry! You push that enough times and the organic disposal unit could start up!" Zim said, snarling at these idiots before him. He'd accidentally set it off (and quickly been mauled, as the "unit" tried rearing up and devouring him) far too many times already to take such an offense lightly. He paused, looking skeptically at the Cone Faces. "And you don't use the toilets here ANYhow, do you?"
"OHMIGAAAWD..." drawled the larger Cone, its little eyes squinting angrily at Zim. "I can NOT beLIEVE you just, like, yelled at me an' my lil' Shloonky like that!"
"Whoo! You tell 'im, Ma!" the other one added, its foot lashing about at the air.
"Ma'am, I didn't--" Zim started, suddenly blinking in confusion. "Wait a second. 'Ma'? How can you things even HAVE kids?"
"OH. oh. OHHH that was SO not cool, dude. Totally!" fumed the first Cone, its face curling to a frown. "C'mon, Shloonktapooxis, we're, like, OUT of this loser bin."
"Tubular!" the smaller one said, bobbing in a nod.
They hovered away, their metal antennas curled up snootily high. Zim dismissed them with a snort... then with a furious shout, as the smaller Cone Face zoomed back overhead to push the button one more time before leaving again.
"Stupid STUPID customers!" Zim muttered, walking to the end of the row of toilet stalls to grab a bucket and scrub-brush. Careful to avoid the stall that was still growling faintly, he chose the closest one as his starting point. He kept grumbling to himself as he began scruffing the brush against the residues on the toilet lid, already caked on since yesterday...
...and he stopped, feeling another presence looming behind him. Zim spun around, gasping as he looked up into the glaring purple eyes of HIM.
His boss cracked his knuckles, frowning a dangerous frown. "Heard you were yelling at the customers again, Zim."
Zim sputtered. "But they were--"
"Don't try to deny it! They told me. Seems you just can't keep that stupid little mouth of yours shut, can you, Zim?" Sizz-Lorr crossed his arms, walking further into the stall; he slammed the door shut, then leaned his shoulder against it. "Do I have to teach you another lesson?"
The room was cramped to begin with, Zim noted, but HIS massive body blocked any hope of an exit, not even counting the closed door... He stopped the fear in his thoughts right there. Why should he be afraid of his boss? This was his chance to prove himself!
He fixed Sizz-Lorr with a prideful glare. "Yes. Yes, I think you DO."
Sizz-Lorr blinked, taken aback at this arrogance, before grinning down at his employee. "Pretty cocky words for someone I could step on." He brought his gloves down to fuss over his apron. "Looks like I'll just have to give you something to scoff at!" One hand disappeared under the stained cloth...
"Hmm-mm!" Zim cut in, shaking his head. "Let ME help you get ready with that, this time." He came closer to where his boss's strange mass was behind, getting down on his knees and whipping the apron up with nary a complaint.
Sizz-Lorr paused, scratching his head. He frowned, his voice taking on a threatening tone. "You'd better not be planning to bite me again."
"Of COURSE not, My FryLord!" Zim replied. This was true, he had to admit; after trying to do some quick toothy damage to his boss's crotch a few days ago, HE'd made Zim put on the restaurant mascot suit and dance around to amuse the customers-- only the suit was full of burning grease. From the smell of it, HE hadn't even bothered to wash the suit since the day before. Zim stopped himself from shuddering, remembering how he'd been forced to wear the suit and walk around the stalls on a leash before getting that day's "lesson" shoved down his throat, literally...
--No, he couldn't lose focus. Zim stared back at the malformed lumps of flesh dangling in front of him. The time for his AMAZINGness was now!
Should probably get it wet first, he thought... Zim curled his thin, snakelike tongue around the longer of the two lumps, the one resting on top. Slowly but steadily, he started licking along the underside of its stumpy length, grabbing what he could pull with his tongue towards him in little tugs... by Irk, did it ever taste awful!
At least it seemed to be working. Sizz-Lorr had leaned back to rest against the stall door, eyes squinted shut.
Zim gave a muffled yelp; the muscle suddenly seemed warmer, twitching until it stiffened firm. He could feel its steady pulse pounding against his tongue as it swelled to nearly fill his mouth. Zim quickly tried moving his head and neck to accommodate it. How did it know how much bigger it should get? Zim growled silently to himself. Did it try to make itself whatever size would feel most uncomfortable? This freak-organ didn't make sense.
Still, he didn't go through all those drool-covered Vort Dogs just to give up! He inched his jaw wider, flexing his mouth to start making wave after wave of sucking motions.
"Mmnnnn..." Sizz-Lorr managed, his knees buckling slightly. His voice faded to a weak, huffing whisper as his employee suckled away with military precision. "Zim, I didn't-- didn't know you could... ah... ahh, wow!"
Before long, Zim felt Sizz-Lorr's massive gloves settle around the back of his head, knocking away Zim's service-drone hat in their fumbling. His boss tried stroking gently along his skin in encouragement, but the lines of control had already blurred. With every lick and tug he gave the flesh fitted snugly inside his jaws, he felt the hands shiver helplessly. Zim grinned to himself. He had brought the mighty Sizz-Lorr to a point beyond words, and he'd hardly even started!
Why stop there, though? Zim knew he could do better. He strained his eyes downward to get a better look at the fat pouch-like thing swaying under where he was sucking. How inefficient, he thought. One so smart as ZIM wouldn't dare ignore this other half of his task!
Careful to balance his kneeling weight on one arm, Zim slowly brought a free hand over to stop the pouch from bouncing. He cupped it from underneath, squeezing it softly... and froze for a moment, surprised at the howl that had burst from Sizz-Lorr. Oh, yes, HE seemed to like that very much... If he could have, Zim would be chuckling. Instead, he toyed with the sack in amusement, adding a prolonged suck simply because he could.
Sizz-Lorr gasped, bucking wildly against Zim's face...
"UNGHHH--!"
Zim felt a horrid blast of goo go flying down his throat, and gave a cold shudder, trying to swallow it all down as quick as he could manage. Ugh, he'd forgotten how quickly that glop came out!
At least Sizz-Lorr seemed to have emptied himself all at once. Zim paused, waiting to see if his boss had decided to do the right thing and admit defeat. After hearing nothing but heavy breathing, Zim backed his mouth away from the organ (which for some reason had shrunk back to being small again... What was with that thing?!). He decided to give it a few quick licks on the way out, and smirked at the resulting groan from above.
Only moments after Zim had pulled away, Sizz-Lorr sluggishly crumpled to his knees; a WHUMPH echoed inside the stall at the impact. The frycook's huge frame was still shuddering, a dark blush engulfing his entire face. Even if he still had the strength to say something to Zim, he remained silent, staring down blankly at the smug little Irken before him.
Zim narrowed his eyes, tipping his head up to sneer at his boss. Sizz-Lorr could only watch as Zim made his way over to stand atop the nearby toilet. He jabbed a tiny finger down his own throat... and, with a raspy hack, volleyed his FryLord's cargo right back into the commode.
With nary more than a cough, Zim hopped back down, wiping his mouth clean with his boss's shirtsleeve. He glared into Sizz-Lorr's twitching, wide-open eyes.
"I'll be taking my break now," he said calmly.
Stepping around Sizz-Lorr's fallen form to open the stall door and leave, Zim uttered a happy victory squeak on the way out. He could be heard choking on the noise before even leaving the toilet area, going into a flurry of raspy coughing, followed by a tiny "I meant to do that...!"
Sizz-Lorr just nodded at the wall, still in a daze.
---
"Hey! ZIM!"
Over at the front counter, Zim snapped out of a boredom-trance, accidentally adding an extra three Gloosh Wings to his current customer's order in the process. He turned back towards the fry kitchen, where Sizz-Lorr's voice had just bellowed.
His boss was already making his way over to the front counter. Zim gulped, wincing a bit in advance. What did he do wrong this time? No time to wonder-- the stomps of those huge boots were getting closer and closer! Zim put his arms up to shield his face...
Sizz-Lorr cleared his throat.
Zim opened his eyes, relaxing to see a sparkling-cold cherry Slooshie being held in front of him. He blinked at his boss, confused.
"Just... thought you might wanna relax for a bit," Sizz-Lorr muttered, looking off towards nowhere in particular. "Sounded like ya might be comin' down with a sore throat or something."
"Huh? ...No, I don't THINK I'm feeling sick," replied Zim, raising a brow.
Sizz-Lorr gave a frustrated sigh. Plunking the frozen treat into Zim's hands, he leaned down and whispered something towards Zim, shielding the words with a giant, curved hand. Zim's eyes grew wide. "OHHHH!" he drawled, nodding.
With Sizz-Lorr staying to manage the front counter, Zim started towards the break room with Slooshie in hand. He sucked greedily at this newest prize of his, attempting little muffled cackles between gulps.
True, this latest victory had brought him no further towards getting back to his own horrible planet... but all in all, Zim preferred to enjoy his amazingness whenever he could.
-FIN-