INTERIOR: Skool. Ms. Bitters' class.
MS. BITTERS: "Class, today we will be learning about false promises. I will teach you three very important things about false promises, so pay attention!
"The first lesson is that the phrase 'false promises' is redundant. All promises are false!"
BOY IN BACK OF CLASS: Raises hand. "Um, Ms. Bitters? Sometimes people keep their promises. I know, it's happened to me, and I've done it, too."
MS. BITTERS: Casts an evil eye on the boy. "What did we learn on the third day of class?"
BOY: "Um... I don't remember. Wasn't that like over three years ago?"
MS. BITTERS: Rubs her chin and contemplates. "Ah, as I recall, you were absent that day. And you never made up the assignment! You will fail in life, boy!" Sweeps her arm to indicate the whole class. "You will all fail in life, but you" pointing at the boy again "will fail more than the rest! ...Or you would... if you were going to live that long!"
DOOR SWINGS OPEN. Two men in dark grey suits enter and drag the boy away.
BOY: "What? What are you doing? Let me go! I want a lawyer! I want my guidance counselor! I want my mommyyyyyy!" His voice trails off as the door shuts behind him.
DIB: Stares in shock at the closed door, then jumps onto his desk to rant at the class. "Okay, did everyone see what just happened here? What just happened here? You did all see that, right? What was that about? That kind of thing can't happen! Can anyone tell me what just happened?!"
THE CLASS IGNORES HIM. No one even looks at him or calls him crazy. They just ignore him.
MS BITTERS: "Sit down, Dib. And be quiet." A thought occurs to her. "...Oh, yes. You were absent on day forty-one. Of course no one could have told you what we learned that day, because the final lesson of the day was that no one must ever discuss that subject ever again. Approach me, and I will explain it to you in brief." Dib approaches. When he stands directly in front of her desk, Ms. Bitters opens a drawer in the desk and pushes a button. A transparent box of silence lowers over the class. Dib turns and stares at it incredulously.
DIB: "What the heck is that?"
MS. BITTERS: "It's a transparent box of silence, what does it look like? Turn around, Dib." Dib turns to face her.
DIB: "Um... if they already know what you're going to tell me, why do you have to keep them from hearing?"
MS. BITTERS: "Because after they learned, their memories had to be erased, of course."
DIB: "But... if you were going to erase their memories, why swear them to secrecy? And why teach the lesson in the first place? And if their memories were erased, why did they remember not to pay any attention to what was going on?"
MS. BITTERS: "You ask too many questions, Dib. It isn't good for you. You remember the lesson from day 2, don't you?"
DIB: Thinks about it before responding. "Smart people are miserable people, and dumb people are much happier?"
MS. BITTERS: "A lesson which is very easy for most people to accept, but which somehow has never quite sunk in with you. Which is why you got an F for that day's assignment."
DIB: "Yeah... but my GPA averages out much better than the rest of theirs, even if they all did get A's that day."
MS. BITTERS: "Never mind! You're wasting valuable class time. About the lesson of day 41: We are cartoon characters. Cartoons are almost always trapped in a state of temporal stagnation, so no one ever ages. Although sometimes there may be flashbacks or flashforwards, older and younger ages never truly happened, and can never be acquired. The only way for the public to stay sane is to avoid thinking about this, and therefore there is a secret law never to mention it, as well as a secret law that this knowledge must be taught on day forty-one of skool. There is a secret organization which strictly enforces these laws and punishes anyone who breaks them. That boy broke the law by saying that day three was over three years ago. If time flowed properly for us as it does for people in the real world, none of you would have remained in this class that long."
DIB: "Actually, I think alot of them would have been held back, anyway.... But you can't be serious about us being cartoons. I think I would have noticed...." Ms. Bitters surreptitiously pulls a neuralizer out of her drawer. "Wait... what? You're going to erase my memory now? This can't be..." But he is interrupted by a bright red flash. Next thing he knows, he's sitting in his seat with a slight headache. He shakes his head to clear it. The box of silence is gone.
MS. BITTERS: Dib! Pay attention. I don't think you've been listening to me.
DIB: "What? Um... I... must have drifted off. I don't remember anything after you said that all promises are false. What did I miss?"
MS. BITTERS: "Just the second lesson."
THE BELL RINGS. The other kids get up and start to leave.
DIB: "Wait! What was the second lesson?"
MS. BITTERS: "If you paid more attention, you'd know. I guess you'll only get 33% on today's portion of the next test. Now go!"
DIB: "But you haven't even taught the third lesson! No one could get 100%!"
MS. BITTERS grins evilly. "I said go!"
DIB: "Oh, man...!" He slings on his backpack and leaves the room. Out in the hall, Zim approaches him.
ZIM: "I could hear everything she said through the so-called 'box of silence,' you know. She's obviously insane if she expects anyone to believe what she told you."
DIB: "What the heck are you talking about, Zim? What 'box of silence'? And what do you mean, 'what she told me'?"
ZIM: Looks around nervously. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. In fact," raising his voice and glancing around again, "I didn't say anything!" Turning back to Dib.... "Anyway, perhaps I could trade you some information on another subject. Today's second lesson was basically that there was no third lesson. Her promise to teach us three things was false."
DIB: Skeptically, "I... see. Well, what information do you want from me?"
ZIM: "What happened on the third day of class? Seeing as how I've only been here..." he looks around again, "well... not... as long as the rest of you."
DIB: "The third day? Um... 'there are exceptions to every rule,' I think. Among other things. Why do you ask?"
ZIM: "Oh, no reason... I'll see you tomorrow, Dib." Zim walks away. Dib remains standing in the hall and watches Zim follow the other students out the front door.
DIB. "Definitely weird." He shakes his head. "Oh well." He leaves skool, himself.
EXTERIOR: Zim's front yard.
GIR: "Hello, master! Welcome home!"
ZIM: "GIR! What are you doing outside?"
GIR: "We ran out of food! Can we go shopping now?"
ZIM: "Oooooow! We just went shopping two days ago! What happened to all the food we bought?"
GIR: "I was watching the 'How Much Can You Stuff in Your Face?' show. At the start of the show they said not to swallow anything, but I forgot!"
ZIM slaps his forehead. "You are such an idiot! Very well, we'll go shopping. But we're not going shopping next week. We're on a budget, try to remember that. So try to make the food we get today last."
GIR: "If we run out again, can't you sneak me some more food from work like you did the last time this happened?"
ZIM: "No! I almost got fired because of that incident. If I lose my job, there'll be no money for groceries, and you won't get to eat anything ever again!"
GIR: "Okay, I'll try to remember."
ZIM: Narrows his eyes. "See that you do. Now, go inside and fetch my wallet!"
GIR: "Okay!" He runs inside, and a minute later comes back out. "Here you go, master!"
ZIM: "Hold onto that for me, will you, GIR? My backpack is a little full right now. I had a gadget I was going to use on Dib today, but... something came up, and I forgot. Anyway, it's taking up too much space. I'll have to take it out later."
GIR: "Okay!" He pops the wallet into the storage space in his head. The two of them start walking toward the market. Half way there, GIR pulls a suckie out of his head and starts sucking on the straw.
ZIM: "I thought you said we were out of food!"
GIR: Stops sucking and turns his head to look at Zim. "Emergency stash!"
ZIM: "Have you got anything else in your head? Besides my wallet?"
GIR: "Um... I don't think so."
ZIM: Realizing what he'd asked, begins to laugh. "You can say that again!"
GIR: "Um... I don't think so."
ZIM: Stops laughing. "Okay, it's not funny anymore." They start walking again, and GIR goes back to his sucking.
EXTERIOR: The market. Dib is talking to some older kids. Zim and GIR walk up to the group.
ZIM: "Dib, I don't believe I've met your friends. In fact, I didn't think you had any friends."
OLDER BOY: "He doesn't. He's just pestering us. Do you think you can get him to go away?"
ZIM: Chuckles. "Oh, would that it were that easy. He's a tenacious one, that Dib is."
OLDER KIDS: They all laugh. The one who spoke before says, "Bugs you too, does he?"
ZIM: "Oh, all the time! He tries to get everyone to believe I'm an alien. He's obviously crazy. So, Dib, why are you bothering these Earth-humans? Do you think they're aliens, too? Or maybe a pack of werewolves? Men in Black, perhaps? Hmmm?" The older kids laugh again.
DIB scowls. "No! I just... I just wanted to hang with some older kids for a change. I don't know why, but ever since skool let out today, I've had this strange and vague feeling that I might never get a chance to be with anyone older than I am right now."
ZIM puts a hand to his mouth to stifle a scream. One of the kids looks around a little nervously, but the others act like Dib didn't say anything.
GIR finishes his suckie and throws the cup in the trash. "Master, I..."
DIB: "Did you guys hear that? Zim's dog talks! That's... not... normal!"
ZIM glares at GIR. "Quiet, boy."
ZIM: "I said silence!" Turning to the others, he laughs a little. "He... imitates speech, a bit. Sometimes. Like those dogs people think say 'I love you.' Or... those... birds. The ones with the bizarre cracker fixation. You know."
DIB: "You mean parrots."
ZIM: "Yes, of course. Parrots."
OLDER BOY: "Whatever. Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you could get rid of your friend. It's not that we don't like kids your age. You seem kinda cool, Zim..." Dib starts to protest, but the other boy talks over him. "...But this Dib kid's just lame and annoying."
DIB: "Come on! How can you think Zim's cool?" He sighs. "Oh, never mind. I don't even care about him right now. I just want to have some older friends. Isn't there anything I can do that will make you like me?"
OLDER BOY: "Well..." He looks around at his friends, and they all nod in agreement with what he's thinking. "Maybe... if you were to get us some beer. You may be nuts, but if you're as smart as you've been telling us you are, maybe you could make some fake ID's that'd fool the clerks in there." He nods his head backwards to indicate the market the older kids are all leaning against.
DIB: "I'm sure I could whip something up in my father's lab... I don't know if I should, though.... It'd be highly illegal, of course, and unethical...."
OLDER GIRL: "Your dad's got a lab? Like, at home?"
DIB: "Yeah, well, it's not as good as the lab where he works, but it should suffice. And it's much easier to get into. Listen... if I do this, do you think you'd take me more seriously? I mainly just want to hang with you sometimes. We can do or talk about whatever you want. But maybe occasionally you could listen to what I have to say about Zim... I promise I wouldn't even mention it unless I had some serious evidence I wanted to show you."
ZIM has been standing by, silently watching and listening to Dib with a smirk on his face, trying not to laugh at how pathetic he was. GIR has been tugging on Zim's shirt to remind him why they were here. Zim has been batting GIR's paws away.
OLDER BOY: "Well... I guess so. As long as you're sure we wouldn't have to listen to any crazy theories when you didn't even have any proof. And as long as you can keep getting us beer."
ZIM now stops smirking, and gets a little nervous. "I could get you this... beer... that you speak of. And I don't even have to go to some silly lab to make a fake ID. I already have a perfectly good one! I shall get you some right now, if you give me the money I will require! And I won't ask to 'hang' with you. Just that you never 'hang' with Dib! ...Except maybe on rare occasions when I might need you to keep him occupied... and out of my hair, as they say...."
DIB: "What? No way! We already have a deal! I'm going to get the beer! You can't horn in on my new friends, Zim!"
OLDER BOY: "Well... Zim's offer is more attractive, because it means not having to hang out with Dib. But just to be fair... whichever one of you gets the beer for us first, wins."
ZIM: "Yes! In your face, Dib! Mua-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
DIB: "Damn you, Zim!" He turns and runs home to make IDs for himself and the older kids.
GIR is still tugging on Zim's shirt.
ZIM turns to him and says, "Yes, GIR, now we shall do our shopping!" The two of them enter the store.
INTERIOR: The market. Zim pushes a shopping cart, while GIR zips around ahead of him, grabbing things from shelves & fridges, tossing them into the cart. Zim is wearing a sort of small electronic periscope as goggles, to see over the cart.
GIR: "I want this! And this! Oooh, and this! And some of those...!"
ZIM: "GIR! Do you think I am made of money?"
GIR: Stops throwing things into the cart for a moment. "Aw, come on, master. You may only make minimum wage, but it's not like you're paying rent, utilities, or taxes!"
ZIM looks around to see if anyone is listening. "GIR... could you possibly say that a little-" he stops himself before he finishes the sentence, remembering that GIR sometimes has trouble understanding sarcasm. He sighs. "Just... just don't say anything like that. It might sound suspicious."
GIR: "Okay, master. But I don't think anyone else pays for their cable, either." He goes back to tossing things in the cart.
ZIM sighs, and goes back to pushing the cart. Then he pushes a button on the side of his goggles and the periscope tilts and rotates to look up at the signs hanging above each aisle, which appear slanted at odd angles because of the periscope's angle. "Where is this silly 'beer' stuff, anyway?" he mumbles. The view in his goggles finally falls upon the appropriate sign. "Aha! This way, GIR!"
GIR: "Aw, but master, I thought I was leading!" He reluctantly falls behind Zim, but as he follows, looks longingly from side to side at things he wishes he could be throwing into the cart.
THEY arrive in the beer aisle, and Zim sets the cart aside, takes off his goggles and lays them in the cart's upper... area... thing. He walks up and down the aisle, scanning the selection with a critical eye.
ZIM: "Hmmm... there seem to be a lot of choices... I wonder which kind those ridiculous humans want. Oh well, if they didn't specify a preference, it must not matter. ...But I wonder how much I should get?" He looks at the various brands again, and finally says, "Aha! I have found a brand which I can buy twice as much of for the same price as some of the other brands! The foolish humans who work in this facility must have mislabeled it! ...Unless it is an inferior product. I wonder.... Well, no matter! I shall simply buy the inexpensive brand! If the humans don't like it, it will be their own fault for not being more specific!" He puts a 24-pak in the cart, then puts his goggles back on. "Come with me, GIR!"
GIR: "Where we goin' now, master?"
ZIM: "To the checkout counter, of course!"
GIR: "Oh yeahhh! Silly GIR!"
DIB: "Hiya, Zim."
ZIM lets out a shriek, and spins around. "Dib! What are you doing here already?!"
DIB: "What? You're not done yet? Tsk, tsk, tsk." He shakes his head. "Looks like you have quite a full cart. Me, I've just got one thing to get. I guess I can hit the express lane. Nice headgear, by the way." He reaches into the fridge unit and pulls out the expensive brand.
ZIM notices this, and eyes the 12-pak suspiciously. "Foolish Earth fool! Can you not see that that item is overpriced?"
DIB: "Maybe. But I think they'll prefer the good stuff."
ZIM considers this. "I can get them twice as much..." he says tentatively. Then his confidence returns. "Besides, I doubt the clerks will accept your ID as valid. It couldn't possibly be of the same quality as mine, if it was made with your primitive Earth technology."
DIB rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. It's just an ID. Human technology created the real ones, so it should certainly do just fine for creating fake ones. And anyway, you probably don't even know how to act like an adult, seeing as you spend almost no time around them. Our teacher isn't exactly normal, you know. Nor are most of the people you see at McMeaty's. And don't get me started on those ridiculous robots you call 'parents'."
GIR: "He's just trying to psych you out, master!"
ZIM: "Heh, heh. I know he is, GIR. I took Psychology 101 in Invader Training Academy." To Dib: "Yes, that's kind of like one of your pathetic little Earth colleges, human. You seem to forget that despite the similarity of our physical sizes, I am an adult. While you, my boy, are a mere child! Mua-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! ...Let's go, GIR."
DIB stands seething for a few moments as Zim and GIR head for the checkout lanes. Then he glances down at the 12-pak in his hand, then back to Zim's shopping cart. Then he smiles, and whistles as he walks casually toward the express lane.
DIB gets to the express lane, but there is a long line of people standing there, some of whom probably have a few more than ten items. Dib realizes that the cashier, having some experience, will probably realize it'd be quicker to just let them use the lane than stand there and argue about it. He slaps his forehead, as he glances a few lanes to his left and sees Zim standing behind only a few people. Dib's lane moves more quickly than Zim's, but he's still worried.
AFTER a minor eternity, there are a couple of people ahead of Dib, and Zim's cashier is just starting to pass Zim's items over the scanner. Zim looks across the lanes at Dib with a gloating expression on his face. One of the people ahead of Dib is finished and moves on.
ZIM'S CASHIER: "I'll need to see some ID, sir."
ZIM: "GIR, get my ID." GIR's head opens and the wallet pops open. GIR opens it and hands a card to Zim.
DIB realizes from frustrating experience that no one will care about strange occurrences such as a dog's head opening up and spitting out a wallet, nor that the dog is walking on hind legs, nor that he's digging through a wallet for an ID. So he decides to try some more psyching out, or at least enjoy a little pointless taunting.
DIB shouts across the lanes. "What's the matter with your backpack, Zim? Too full to keep your wallet in there? No extra space, what with the school books and your mechanical legs... or, um... arms... grapplers... or... mechanical... multi-purpose... limb... things. ...No room aside from those? For... for your wallet?"
ZIM glances at him disdainfully. "Are you talking to me, obviously-insane-stranger-whom-I-don't-know? If so, what are you talking about?" Looking down at the card GIR had given him, "GIR! This is my fake ID which claims I am an adolescent! Give me my real ID, which tells my actual age!"
GIR: "Ohhh... sorry, master." He takes the card back, puts it in the wallet, and digs around for a different card.
DIB'S CASHIER: "I'll need to see some ID, sir."
DIB turns around to face his cashier, and takes out his wallet, casting a gloating expression toward Zim. He hands the ID to the cashier.
ZIM takes the card GIR has just handed him, and hurriedly shoves it toward his own cashier. Then he looks at the back of the ID which the cashier is now holding, screams, and quickly tear's it from the clerk's grasp. "GIR! Not my real real ID! That would reveal my true identity as an Irken In-" He stops short, glances toward Dib, whose attention is now riveted on the card Zim is holding. A smile slowly creeps over his face as he thinks that he must somehow get ahold of that card. For the moment, he doesn't even notice his cashier holding his own fake ID out toward him. Zim says, "GIR, just hand me my wallet."
DIB'S CASHIER: "Will that be cash or charge, sir?"
ZIM returns his Irken Invader ID to his wallet, and pulls out his fake real ID and his credit card. He hands them both to his cashier.
DIB: "Cash." He takes back his fake ID and returns it to his wallet, pulling out a ten dollar bill. "Here."
ZIM'S CASHIER: "Thank you, sir. Have a nice-"
ZIM: "Silence, human! I have no time for your frivilous and specious well-wishings!"
GIR: "I wanna go to a wishing well! Can I have a penny, master?"
DIB'S CASHIER: "Thank you. Have a nice day."
DIB: "Yeah, you too!" He puts his wallet back in his coat pocket distractedly, looking nervously at Zim, and reaches without looking to grab his 12-pak. His hand falls on empty air. He turns to look for it, and sees the bagger holding it.
ZIM: "GIR! There is no wishing well. Just push the cart outside!"
GIR: "I gotta wait for the bagger to finish loading it."
DIB'S BAGGER: "Paper or plastic?"
DIB: "I can carry it as is!"
DIB's BAGGER: "Store policy, any alcohol must be in bags."
ZIM: "Fine! You wait here and then take the cart outside. Here, use my goggles!" He takes off his goggles and hands them to GIR.
GIR: "Cool. Those are neat!"
ZIM: "Whatever. I will take the beer now, myself!"
DIB sighs. "Fine. Plastic."
ZIM'S BAGGER: "You sure look young for-"
ZIM: I showed your work-partner my ID! Do you need to see it, as well? GIR! What did you do with my wallet?"
ZIM's BAGGER: "No, that's okay. No need. Sorry."
ZIM: "Enough idle chatter! Just concentrate on your task! And where's my beer?!"
DIB: "See ya later, Zimmy!" He passes by Zim, carrying his bag.
ZIM'S BAGGER: "Underneath the cart, on that little shelf."
ZIM: "Fine!" He grabs the 24-pak and smacks Dib in the head with it.
DIB: "Owwwwww!" He reels back and falls down. Dazedly he rubs his head. Zim is out the door before Dib remembers to get up and hurry after him.
EXTERIOR: The Market.
ZIM: "Well, I wasn't sure what kind you wanted. I hope this is okay." He hands the 24-pak to the boy who did most of the talking before.
OLDER BOY: "Wow, man, this is cool! Thanks. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, right guys?" The others all nod and laugh cheerfully. The first boy opens the pak and takes out a can. He pops the top, and foam sprays in his face. "What the-?! You little...! Think you're funny, huh? Shaking the box up like that?"
ZIM: "What? No, I..."
OLDER BOY: "Well, you can just forget about our being friends, or reimbursing you, or ever helping get Dib off your back! Man, just get outta here!"
ZIM: "But... it was an accident, I swear! We can still be friends!"
ANOTHER BOY IN GROUP: "Maybe... c'mon, man. Even if it was a trick, he still brought us the beer. It'll settle down if we wait awhile."
FIRST BOY: "Well, we'll keep it, and we'll wait. But I still say it was a nasty trick, and we don't owe him anything! Now beat it, ya little green freak!"
ZIM growls. "Fine! But you shall rue this day! Rue it, I say!!"
DIB: "Hey, guys. Sorry I didn't get here first. I was actually ahead of Zim, but he knocked me in the head with his beer case to stop me. I wouldn't recommend opening any cans just yet. They're probably shook up from the swing and hit. But mine should be okay." He held out the 12-pak.
FIRST BOY: "Oh, no. I bet you two cooked this up just to play a prank on some older kids. I'm sure if I open one of your cans, it'll just explode in my face like his obviously already did. Then you could both go tell your stupid little friends about how you pulled one- or two- over on a group of big kids. Well, you know what they say. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."
DIB: "What? You've got to be kidding me! Here, I'll open a can myself to prove it's safe!"
GAZ: Wanders into the scene from nowhere. Or actually from out of the store. She's staring into her Game Slave, as always, of course. "Hi, Dib. You drinking beer? I'm gonna tell Dad. I bet you used his lab to make a fake ID, too. You'll be in big trouble."
DIB: "Gaz! Where did you come from?! Anyway, it's not what it looks like! I was just getting this for these guys so they'd like me and maybe listen to what I have to say about Zim!"
GAZ: "You're amazing, Dib, you know that? Just when I think you couldn't possibly be any more pathetic, you surprise me by getting even more pathetic." She starts walking away, then stops and calls over her shoulder. "Oh yeah. To answer your first question, I just needed to pick up some new batteries for my Game Slave."
DIB: "But... you have drawers full of unopened packages of batteries!"
GAZ: "Duh. But I just opened a new pack, so I had to replace it in the drawer." She continues on her way.
DIB: "But... but... ooooooooh! Gah! Why, why, why, am I surrounded by such insanity from every single human on the planet but me!"
GIR: "Hi, master! Ready to go?"
ZIM: "Yes, I guess I am. The beer thing didn't work out for me, but it looks like it hasn't worked out for Dib, either. And that's the important thing. Isn't it?"
GIR: "If you say so, master."
DIB: "Are you sure you guys don't want my beer?"
OLDER BOY: "Keep it. We've got this other stuff from Zim, anyway. Not that we want to take anything from either of you jerks...."
DIB: "Fine. Well, I can't take this home. Zim, you're an adult. Why don't you just take it? With any luck, it'll give you alcohol poisoning." He drops the 12-pak at Zim's feet and stalks off.
GIR: "Goody! I heard this stuff is like liquid bread. I like bread. I like liquid, too!" He happily tosses the 12-pak in the cart.
ZIM looks at GIR. "You know, you look ridiculous in those goggles." He rips them off and puts them on him own head again. "At least when I'm wearing them, I don't have to look at them." He starts pushing the cart toward home. "GIR! Remind me to bring the Voot cruiser next time we go shopping. I always forget, because it's such a short walk; but it's longer when pushing a cart full of groceries."
GIR: "I will, master."
ZIM grumbles to himself. "Yes, you always say that, and then you never do. Oh well, I guess I can't blame you for forgetting something I forget, myself...."
INTERIOR: Zim's house. Zim is slumping against the couch. There are a number of empty beer cans lying around on the floor, and a half-empty one still in his hand. GIR is in the kitchen cooking something.
ZIM: Looks with glazed eyes at the TV screen. The Scary Monkey Show is on. "You know, this show isn't so bad... I'm kind of starting to see why GIR likes it so much..." Suddenly his eyes grow wide and a look of panic flashes over his face. He looks down at the can in his hand. "What am I saying?! This is your fault! You have done this to me! Vile human mind-altering, brain-deadifying poison! I bet those kids were friends of Dib's, and this whole thing was a trick to destroy my vastly superior intelligence!" He is then silent for a time, continues staring at the can. Then he lifts it to his mouth, finishes it in one chug, and grabs another can from the 12-pak. He holds it without opening it, and returns his attention to the TV.
GIR comes into the room with a plate of taquitos. "Taquitos!" he says cheerfully. "Want some, master?"
ZIM pulls his eyes away from the TV to look at the plate dubiously. "I... You like trying different things to eat, don't you, GIR? Are those anything like those tacos you like so much?"
GIR: "Kinda. Not as much stuff, but it stays in better. You'll like 'em, master!"
ZIM: "Well, they certainly look... rounder." He tries one. It tastes good. He starts thinking GIR might not be as dumb as he usually seems. He shivers at that thought, then puts it out of his head. He reaches into the 12-pak, hands a can to GIR, then opens his own. They both turn their attention to the Scary Monkey Show....