(no subject)
*Some time during the night, a small, greenish house with a reddish-purple roof and purple-tinted windows has appeared and connected itself via metal tubes to the Desperate Screen Hotel*
*You probably heard it, too; it was that God awful mechanical, earth-shaking, car alarm-triggering racket that started-up at around 3:13 am and ended around 3:18 am.*
*The resident of said house (what looks to be a small boy with a pod-like backpack, green skin, and gravity-defying hair) is now standing on the path, watering his lawn gnomes and flamingo (he's not allergic to water anymore, thank you invisible layer of DISGUSTING EARTH PASTE), and now he's adjusting his "I ♥ EARTH" flag. And-- uh-oh, he's spotted you. Run.*
Greetings, Earth-monkey!
I am ZIM, a normal, filthy, disgusting human child DO NOT LET THE DIB-HUMAN TELL YOU OTHERWISE.
. . . .
Aaaaanywaaaay, do not mind me -- DO NOT! -- for I am a normal Earth thing like yourself. You need examples? OH, such examples shall Zim give -- leeeet's seeeee. My research indicates that you -- er, we -- humans enjoy smut. ZIM ALSO ENJOYS FILTH. I loooove Earth's nauseating, sickening, repulsive-- INGH INGH INGH-- mud puddles, and its awful, horrid water-based parks of amusement. Zim also is a fffffffanboy of SLASH, for I, too, enjoy violence involving blade-based weaponry! And like the other carbon-based life forms within this room-renting-establishment, I quite enjoy this. . . buckling of swash.
Yeeeeees, you see? There is no need to worry, I am exceeeeeedingly normal. BASK IN THE NORMALITY THAT IS ZIM. BASK, I SAY!
Now, how is it that you sacks of disgusting Earth meat finalize these long-winded monologues of introduction? My statistics show that approximately 60% end with questions as to the location of this current setting, while others inquire as to the whereabouts of . . . llllooooovvvvvved ones. CLEARLY I MUST CONFORM TO THIS STANDARD!
ZIM demands to know his exact coordinates IMMEDIATELY. Tell meeeeeee, or you shall have DOOM rained upon your DOOMED HEAD.
And also, HAVE YOU SEEN MY CANINE UNIT, GIR? He has been located, NO THANKS TO YOU WORTHLESS HUMAN FILTH.
Yeeeeeeees, the humans are so easily fooled! I shall sparkle like a filthy sparkling thing, and they shall be none the wiser. SOON, my Tallest, soooooon.
*. . . . you probably weren't meant to hear that bit.*
(OoC: . . . Invader Zim from Jhonen Vasquez's Invader Zim. . . . . I'm sorry for the HTML- and capslock-abuse.
AND NOW THE MUN IS AWAY! Any comments received after this time shall be responded to with the Irken quickness when she returns. I liiiiiiive.)
*You probably heard it, too; it was that God awful mechanical, earth-shaking, car alarm-triggering racket that started-up at around 3:13 am and ended around 3:18 am.*
*The resident of said house (what looks to be a small boy with a pod-like backpack, green skin, and gravity-defying hair) is now standing on the path, watering his lawn gnomes and flamingo (he's not allergic to water anymore, thank you invisible layer of DISGUSTING EARTH PASTE), and now he's adjusting his "I ♥ EARTH" flag. And-- uh-oh, he's spotted you. Run.*
Greetings, Earth-monkey!
I am ZIM, a normal, filthy, disgusting human child DO NOT LET THE DIB-HUMAN TELL YOU OTHERWISE.
. . . .
Aaaaanywaaaay, do not mind me -- DO NOT! -- for I am a normal Earth thing like yourself. You need examples? OH, such examples shall Zim give -- leeeet's seeeee. My research indicates that you -- er, we -- humans enjoy smut. ZIM ALSO ENJOYS FILTH. I loooove Earth's nauseating, sickening, repulsive-- INGH INGH INGH-- mud puddles, and its awful, horrid water-based parks of amusement. Zim also is a fffffffanboy of SLASH, for I, too, enjoy violence involving blade-based weaponry! And like the other carbon-based life forms within this room-renting-establishment, I quite enjoy this. . . buckling of swash.
Yeeeeees, you see? There is no need to worry, I am exceeeeeedingly normal. BASK IN THE NORMALITY THAT IS ZIM. BASK, I SAY!
Now, how is it that you sacks of disgusting Earth meat finalize these long-winded monologues of introduction? My statistics show that approximately 60% end with questions as to the location of this current setting, while others inquire as to the whereabouts of . . . llllooooovvvvvved ones. CLEARLY I MUST CONFORM TO THIS STANDARD!
ZIM demands to know his exact coordinates IMMEDIATELY. Tell meeeeeee, or you shall have DOOM rained upon your DOOMED HEAD.
And also, HAVE YOU SEEN MY CANINE UNIT, GIR? He has been located, NO THANKS TO YOU WORTHLESS HUMAN FILTH.
Yeeeeeeees, the humans are so easily fooled! I shall sparkle like a filthy sparkling thing, and they shall be none the wiser. SOON, my Tallest, soooooon.
*. . . . you probably weren't meant to hear that bit.*
(OoC: . . . Invader Zim from Jhonen Vasquez's Invader Zim. . . . . I'm sorry for the HTML- and capslock-abuse.
AND NOW THE MUN IS AWAY! Any comments received after this time shall be responded to with the Irken quickness when she returns. I liiiiiiive.)