#his role is a liiiiittle different as an 'encoder' vs an 'invader' but like

[abrthephantomq]

Encoder Zim - pt 2? pt 2

Please, my fellow humans, take a seat for a moment and study the image displayed on the screen. Does this look like someone who could take out one of the planet’s greatest leaders? 

[An image of Dib, approximately 34 years of age. He’s stick thin and tall. Lanky is a good word for him – like his limbs were just slightly too long for the rest of his body. There’s an eyepatch covering his left eye – well, it’s more like there’s large, twisted scar that makes up the left side of Dib’s face and a dainty little patch of black resting on top of it, where his left eye should be. 

He’s wearing what you’d expect a Dib to wear; black trench coat, black boots, blah blah blah. It’s Dib. An filthy human worm from a filthy planet of filth.]

“....no?” 

WRONG. 

[The image on screen changes to one of Dib, sans trench coat, but otherwise looking as gangly and awkward as always. This picture appears to be older, as it’s a bit frayed and Dib’s hair isn’t anywhere near as long as it is in the first picture. That stupid scythe-lock of hair sticks out on top – and Dib’s face, while still scarred, looks freshly healed.

Also in this shot, Dib is actually doing something kinda cool like fighting a weird Earthen monster. Something huge and hairy and definitely not normal. You’ve seen many different gross and disgusting species of animal in your day, but even this creature gives you the creeps.]

This is the same dreaded heh-yuman who wiped out Jif Bozos, the richest man on the planet. He may look stupid, but he is remarkably capable, despite his stupid appearance. 

[More images of Dib, from various angles – from various locations. It’s clear that the Dib has been traveling. They’re clicked through quickly, though there are…. quite a lot of them. Probably more than is necessary. It takes a beat too long to click through them all.]

(Note to self: tell GIR not to put so many pictures of the Dib in the slide deck, next time.)

He is a member of the organization known as the Swollen Eyeballs. Apparently, their goal is to keep the planet safe from ineffectual and terrible leaders. And by “ineffectual and terrible” they mean leaders who care about the econ-o-me and who want to keep it growing and growing and growing. 

(You pause, turn on your heel, and allow a flash of teeth.) They want to get rid of you. 

(The crowd, as you’ve predicted, gasps and boos, and you have to fight back a smile. The fact that the humans have such a soft word for such a threatening display, and that you’ve deemed it acceptable to use in your thoughts, barely pings something deep within you. Years ago, it would have.

Probably.)

Now now – I know, I know. You love your money. Of course you love your money! Money is great and it must be protected at all costs.

[An image of yourself, standing tall and powerful, laughing maniacally over a pile of green bills. A Dib-worm lays dead at your feet, limbs tangled together like puppet with its strings cut. It’s clear that the Dib is dead, because there is a puddle of human life force spreading around him and he has x’s for eyes – oh, and his tongue is sticking out of his mouth. Like a fool.] 

Behold! You can hire me, ZIM, to take out this – thorn in your collective side. I have information about this man that no one else does – connections across this pathetic – this perfect planet that only I can utilize. 

And thus concludes my presentation on the greatest threat to the world econ-o-me. Thank you.

(You step down from your platform. The humans mumble among themselves, whispering behind their hands as you walk away. 

You know one of them will be contacting you, soon.)