Winning Valeentine Entries

Transmission: [Encrypted]
Originator: Invader Stick
PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42
Subject: Winning Valeentines

To the Galaxy-Spanning Irken Empire,

The “Valeentines Day” contest I spoke of in my last transmission has ended, and the winners have been decided. If your entry was not among the top four, it is probably because you are an illiterate buffoon whose legibility borders on that of an eight-month-old Earthling worm-baby. For those whose entries were among the top four, you are to be congratulated on barely exceeding expectations that were already so low that we had to rip out the floor so we could move the bar to the appropriate level.

Below are the winning entries for all to see. To the authors of these “Valeentines,” I have put in a request to the Control Brains for your Existence Evaluations to be moved up to an earlier date due to your entries’ mushy and barf-inducing content. A much earlier date. As in, you should probably start packing now.


Dear Almighty Tallest Red,

I understand that Irkens feeling this uncommon emotion called “love” is ridiculous. No Irken has ever felt something even close to that. Certainly not an Irken Elite, such as myself, would be such a defect that they would feel things like “affection.”

But I have. I am sorry to say that such emotions have made their way into my thoughts.

And it’s even more unfortunate to say that those feelings are for none other than you, my tallest. It still seems abnormal that I would fall for someone like you. While you and the other Tallest are stuffing your faces with snacks, launching uncooperative Irkens out of airlocks, and ordering me around to do what you desire, I can’t help but to gaze up into your eyes in wonder.

Your eyes, for some reason, seem to sparkle much brighter than the stars I see every evening when I gaze out my window, thinking of you.

Red has always been my favorite color.

Red is the color of love.

Red is the color of death.

Red is the color of the fire that burns in my heart. The fire that burns for you.

Even when we were just smeets, sitting in that room for about 10 years, I was still staring at you with a blush on my face and a dreamy look in my eyes even though I knew that those feelings were wrong even then. But I still felt them no matter how hard I tried to resist.

I understand you in a way that nobody else does. I see the beauty inside your squeedily-spooch that no Irken has ever dared to reveal. I see something deeper in that charming smile on your face. Hidden behind that unceasing hunger for power (and snacks), I see an emotion that I can’t even comprehend. I surely don’t mean to upset you, My Tallest, for I am just a pathetic, pitiful little Irken that has gone head over heels in love.

Occasionally I have trouble understanding these emotions. When you’re up in front of the Irken Empire, speaking to us, I have to close my eyes and listen to your sweet voice. When I hear it, I feel like I’m floating. And when you look at me, I feel like I’m going to pass out. It’s tremendously unclear, and because only hyuuumans can only actually feel love, I have trouble finding out more about it and knowing why these feelings originated.

But I figured that this “Valeentine’s day” was the best opportunity to confess my feelings for you. I don’t know if you’ll reply back, and it’s fine if you don’t, but how else was I supposed to get my feelings out?

I love you. Happy Valeentine’s day, My Tallest.

Love, Irken Elite Jean


Dib Membrane:

Three years ago I made the decision to accept a position in the Bureau of Alien Activity. It’s a well-kept secret that this organization even exists, but as the Bureau works closely with Swollen Eyeball, you, I don’t doubt, have been aware of it for quite some time.

I worked in the primary research division up until eighteen months ago, when I received my first field assignment. Mission? The investigation of a recent spike in alien activity. Target? Zim. Oh yes, we know about Zim. From my months of research we know as much about him as you yourself do. However, when he landed in your city he brought with him a device, stored in his PAK, that effectively depresses intelligent thought in his vicinity. This is why no one, besides you, realized who he was, and what he’d come to do.

This presented a problem. Without witnesses we were virtually powerless. We had no grounds to obtain a search warrant. Even Child Protective Services had fallen under Zim’s spell, and were completely unwilling to look into his case. Our hands were tied.

My superiors were on the verge of contracting a Russian assassin when I realized we had one more hope, a hope so unlikely that no one had taken it seriously. One person was left, one who knew the truth.


It was then that I turned my attention away from Zim, and began focusing it on you, Dib Membrane. You, who had the power and courage to withstand numerous alien attacks, to confront the forces of evil, while the forces of good (or stupidity, depending on who you’re referencing) did nothing but mock your efforts. You, who have stood in the gap between humanity and destruction countless times. No matter how dim-witted and dense those around you have been, you’ve never abandoned them. Not permanently, anyway.

I am sending this missive to you now, on this fourteenth of February two-thousand twelve, because it has come to my attention that you are on the verge of resignation from your strenuous position, that you are, as a gleeful communiqué from Zim that we intercepted and decoded, going to(quote) “ Send earth to Zim in a breadbasket of doom.” (end quote)

Of all the people on earth, I am the most qualified to speak to you on this topic. How is it, then, that words escape me? You see, before my early recruitment by the Bureau, I was just like you—alone, standing between my race and certain devastation, receiving no encouragement, but only ridicule. It was only by the kind words of one of the Bureau’s surveillance agents that the town of Obtuse Noggin was saved from annihilation by Splornov forces.

And so I send you this correspondence today in the hopes that you will take heart and reconsider your delicate position. Only through my great faith in your confidentiality can I reveal that the only reason the government hasn’t stepped in before now is because the government cannot improve upon the situation. Simply put, you’re doing everything, short of Russian assassins, that we could do, and, in my personal opinion, doing it better. In all my time with the Super-Terrestrial And Alien Location Committee (STAALC) branch of the Bureau, I’ve never seen anyone with more competence or effectiveness in their defense of human life.

You are one-of-a-kind in the best possible way, and, although I am not permitted to give you my name, know that there is one who admires your work. Who admires your endurance. Who admires you. Continue on in the knowledge that you are not alone, and that, should you ever be in over your head (which I seriously doubt), I stand at the ready to assist you.

Best Regards,

An Empathetic Colleague

(=fr0m th3 3ncrypt3d f1l3s 0f STAALC ag3nt #0056491^ f0rward3d t0 s3cur3 c0mput3r^unkn0wn c1ty=0n3 DIB MEMBRANE))


To my dearest Invader Zim,

I take my pen this evening
To confess, in my own way
My feelings for you; please, shut up
And let me have my say

This sickly, gooey holiday
Of hearts and flower wreaths
Of chocolates and of Cupids–
February the fourteenth!

Yes, today is Valentine’s Day
Sweet cards in pink and red
That I was too cheap to buy you;
So you get this crap instead.

From the moment I first saw you
I knew we were meant to be
Despite never having met you
And the fact you’re two-foot-three

Your eyes, Zim, mesmorize me
I can never look away
I say green skin is sexy
As are twitchy antennae

Loyal, fearless, and persistant
Even–if I may–inspired
You’ll keep plotting Earth’s destruction
Though your plans have all backfired

Happy love-pig day to you!
There, I said it. Now be mine
Kudos to the Invader
Who no other can outshine!

So if you get discouraged
(And I’m sure you sometimes do)
Remember you have someone
Who will always root for you.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Zim! (Or, as I prefer to call you…Zimmikins )

Love, TheWaffleMonster


Dear Pustoolio,

Out of all the people who left my side, and deserted me, and never came back, you are the one who refused to go. You visit every teenager, and no matter how much humiliation and shame you put them through, you never leave them. You stick to your cycles and keep staying with us.

You are indestructible, neither cleansing chalk nor bacon could make you go away, and the more you cling to us, the bigger you get, and the more obsessed people become with you. You are the object of my unsurpassed worship.

Your power is hypnotizing, your hypnosis makes everyone else forget who they are and what they are doing around you. They find you beautiful, they love you. They do anything you wish, whatever pleases you. its like your power takes away our free will, we cannot resist staring into your face. I bet a million people have wanted to hold your little hand.

We tell you all of our secrets, and you stay by our side as long as you can. Your hypnosis is a gift of which no power could destroy, not even acne blast. We thank you for allowing us to use your hypnosis to gather secrets and infiltrate our arch enemies. We thank you, Pustoolio, for not leaving us until you explode.


Invader Z.I.B.

This concludes the posting of the winning entries. I am off to find an incinerator large enough to burn all of the entries that were received, as well as the authors themselves. At the same time. Normally I would have just launched you all into the nearest sun, but recent budget cuts have forced me to use less efficient methods. Invader Stick, out.

[Encrypted Transmission Ended]


Valeentine’s Day Contest

Transmission: [Encrypted]
Originator: Invader Stick
PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42
Subject: Valeentines Day

To the Loyal Inhabitants of the Irken Empire,

With each planet we successfully conquer, we bring the native inhabitants of those planets under our rule. These new species bring with them many of their own cultures and customs that, while petty and insignificant in the grand scheme of our own glorious civilization, are nevertheless occasionally intriguing to study. One such custom is the holiday known in the hyuuuman species as “Valeentines Day.”

Hyuuumans have a complicated and inferior range of emotions compared to Irkens. Whereas we possess only those emotions necessary for galactic conquest and war, hyuuumans possess feelings of “love” and “affection” for one another that help them to breed and, thus, aid in the continuation of their pathetic civilization. One manifestation of this “love” is the celebration of a holiday called “Valeentines Day,” in which hyuuumans exchange chocolates and letters as a token of their affection to an individual they are attracted to. It is, in a word, sickening. My squeedly spooch trembles in a most unpleasant matter when I think about it!

Still, the practice of this “letter exchanging” has caught the interest of our Almighty Tallest, and in an effort to better understand why these hyuuumans do it, it has been decided that we must do it ourselves. Therefore, beginning immediately, our Tallest have decreed that a “Valeentine Letter-Writing Contest” shall henceforth commence in the Empire!

The rules to this contest, as determined by The Almighty Tallest, are as follows:

1. The letter must address any character (of your choice) that has appeared in “Invader” Zim’s galactic transmissions.*

2. One person can submit up to TWO entries each to different characters, but only ONE entry can win.

3. All entries must be submitted to the “Irken Postmaster,” whose contact information can be found here:

4. Do not include anything explicit. This will result in immediate disqualification.

5. Plagiarism will not be tolerated! The letter MUST be written and submitted by the same person.

6. Only those located in the U.S. (with a physical address) can be eligible to win the first prize.

7. Entries must be submitted electronically. No handwritten entries will be accepted.

8. There is no age limit, but if you’re under 13, make sure you get your parents’ and/or legal guardian’s permission to enter.

9. There is no limit to how long/short your written entry has to be.


*Out-of-character note: Obviously, I mean the Invader Zim cartoon series.

The grand-prize winner of this contest will receive a hand-written letter from the character they wrote to. The contents of this letter will obviously be in response to what you wrote to them. In addition, three runner-ups will receive similar responses, but in digital form—rather than hand-written form.

I understand that because this concept of “Valeentine Letters” is so foreign to our majestic Irken Culture, many of you will not know how to write one. I have foreseen this obstacle, and have therefore prepared an example letter so that you all will have an idea of how they should be written. My example letter can be found below:

Dear Cold Unfeeling Robot Arm,

It has been many Irken years since you first picked me up from inside of the Smeet Factory. My eyes had been open for no more than a minute, and the universe was new to me. The sounds, the smells, the sights…the very air held within it a feeling of sterilized cleanliness that I can still remember to this day. Of course, that is not the most significant thing I remember. That, Cold Unfeeling Robot Arm, would be you.

As you held me several feet above the air as I was being filled with the whole of Irken Knowledge, I could not help but gaze upon your visage. You did not judge, you did not speak, you did not feel—you existed but for a single purpose, to help usher in the next generation of Smeets that would one day fuel the engine of the Irken Empire. I could identify with this, for I, too, existed for one purpose—to become the greatest Invader of all time. Even then, young as I was, I knew this was the task I must complete, and if not for your care in those first few moments of my life, I would have never achieved it.

We Irkens are designed to feel no feelings of “love” or “compassion.” We are beings of conquest, and conquest does not lend itself to such trivial emotions. Yet if there is any being in the universe that could bring me to feel such things, it would be you, Cold Unfeeling Robot Arm. You may just be a mechanical limb designed by engineers as part of a larger machine, but even so you are still a very important part of my life and what I was destined to become.

Sometimes, as I gaze upon the vast expanse of stars in the sky, I think of you and where you may be now. Are you still lifting Smeets in the bowels of the factory? Or have you been promoted to a higher purpose, perhaps having been smelted down and re-built as part of a Megadoomer war machine that is helping to stomp the lesser races of the universe marked for conquest? Or have you been retired, and are now a discarded piece of metal located somewhere within the pile of junk on Planet Scrapyardia? I hope not, Cold Unfeeling Robot Arm…I hope you are still doing something of worth for our glorious Empire. You deserve no less for your efforts in service to our Tallest.

I must end this letter now, as I have pressing matters to attend to. Just know that I will never forget you, Cold Unfeeling Robot Arm. When they write the story—no, the LEGEND—of my life, I will be sure they give you the credit and glory that you deserve for your part in it.

Your Greatest Smeet,

Invader Stick

Now that you have the contest rules, as well as a masterfully-crafted example to go off of, you are all commanded to begin your entries right away. Those of you who do NOT participate will be forced to do combat with the giant mutant mongoose in the gladiator arena on Planet Combatia. You have been warned! Invader Stick, out.

[Encrypted Transmission Ended]

Gifts to Give for “Crismoose”

Transmission: [Encrypted]
Originator: Invader Stick
PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42
Subject: Crismoose

To the Great and Powerful Irken Armada:

Since the Irken Defective known as “Zim” landed on the planet called “Earth” and proceeded to annoy the Almighty Tallest with his blathering transmissions, much has been discovered about the “hyuuumans” that inhabit that wretched space rock. One of the more significant traditions in their worthless culture, which they refer to as “Crismoose,” has been adopted in a modified form by some Irkens. As this practice has continued to grow and receive attention amongst the denizens of the mighty Armada, I have been instructed by the Tallest to provide some guidance and background on the procedures associated with this “holeeday.”

For those who are not familiar with Crismoose, it is a hyuuuman event where a fat, bearded, red-clothed being infiltrates the dwellings of people in the midst of night and bestows upon them gifts of various shapes and sizes that are wrapped in colorful and glittery paper. While no such fat, bearded red-man exists in our glorious culture, some Irkens have nevertheless adopted the practice of giving themselves, and others, gifts during this time that may reflect the individual’s worth and status. In general, the taller the Irken, the better the gift they receive.

While the choice of gift is ultimately up to the Irken giving it, below are some suggestions I have for those who may be stumped on what to purchase for someone during Crismoose:

  1. Food Service Drones love grease, so giving them a big vat of boiling hot grease would be an appropriate gift. Dumping the grease on them is optional, but highly recommended.

  2. Table-headed Service Drones would benefit from the gift of a bigger and wider table to place on their head, so that they can fit more refreshments on it at one time. This is especially recommended for those Drones who always seem to reach you just as they have given away the last drink to someone else; a bigger table with more refreshments would not only prevent the Drone from running out before they get to you, but would also prevent the savage beating they would receive from you because of the offense.

  3. The Almighty Tallest should receive snacks. Lots and lots of snacks.

  4. Invaders are a more difficult class of Irken to give a gift to, given the demands of their assignments. However, one can never go wrong with giving them a new Voot Cruiser XJS Edition, complete with an advanced Galactic Navigation System (GNS), a Gatling Laser weapon mounted on top of the vessel, twice the armor of a regular Voot Cruiser, and a microwave installed on the dashboard to make popcorn. Buying the popcorn along with the Cruiser is also highly recommended, as it does not come with any and may make the recipient of your gift violently upset if he or she does not have any popcorn for the microwave.

  5. While other inferior alien races are not worthy to receive a gift, those of you who tend to slaves may benefit from a gift of your own. A brand new high-voltage shocking stick or a longer whip may bring you added joy and amusement this Crismoose season as you find that the upgraded items cause more pain and suffering to those under you.

Finally, some of you may wonder what it is that I, Invader Stick, may want for this Crismoose. The only gift worthy of my gloriousness would be a large statue of me, made in my honor, which bears an inscription detailing my many accomplishments and extols the greatness of my genius and skill. Make sure you get my eyes right—if you mess up my eyes on the statue, I will ensure that doom and pain will rain down upon you!

With that, this transmission is concluded. Merry Crismoose, you filthy, rotten meatbags of goo!

[Encrypted Transmission Ended]

More Announcements to the Irken Armada

Transmission: [Encrypted]
Originator: Invader Stick
PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42
Subject: More Announcements to the Armada

To the World-Conquering Irken Armada:

Below you will find this week’s Announcements of Interest to the Fleet. The line-cutter still has not recovered from his burns, meaning that his task of disseminating these announcements continues to be my own. The Medical Technicians attending to him have informed me that in addition to his injuries, he is also suffering from violent fits of night terrors and is attempting to gnaw off his right hand. Such news fills me with equal amounts of pride and satisfaction.

On to the Announcements:

  1. The brand new Voot Cruiser XJS Edition is now being sold at various locations throughout the galaxy. In addition to the standard equipment offered on regular Voot Cruisers, the XJS model offers such luxuries as an advanced Galactic Navigation System (GNS), a Gatling Laser weapon mounted on top of the vessel, twice the armor of a regular Voot Cruiser, and a microwave installed on the dashboard so that you may make some popcorn as you witness the glory of your Galactic Conquest efforts come to fruition (note: popcorn is sold separately).

  2. All Invaders are reminded that the thermos function on all SIR units is only intended for the storing of foodstuffs and drinks. Objects such as beehives, live animals, radioactive isotopes, and other such objects are not permitted to be stored in the SIR units. Consult your owner’s manual if you have further questions.

  3. The military training complex on Hobo 13 is not accepting new applicants at this time. Those who continue to apply are directed to break their wrists immediately to prevent themselves from filling out more applications.

  4. All ships in the Armada are urged to be on the lookout for an old Vort ship. This ship has been found to carry members of a rebellious group of aliens who call themselves “The Resisty.” If any Armada ships encounter this vessel, they are urged to remind these rebels that they picked a stupid name for their group, and to then blow them up immediately. The ship that successfully completes this task will receive a coupon for 50% off their next meal at Shloogorgh’s Flavor Monster restaurant on Planet Foodcourtia.

  5. Planet Amusementia, the brand new amusement park planet, will open for business in one week. The first 1,000 visitors on Opening Day will receive Almighty Tallest commemorative dinner plates.

  6. Those Irkens scheduled for their next Existence Evaluation are ordered to report to Planet Judgementia at the end of next month. Failure to show up on time, or failure to show up at all, will result in you automatically being labeled as a “Defective” and then being forced to watch endless hours of infomercials urging you to buy useless junk until you go insane and gouge out your own eyeballs. Oh yeah, and then you’ll be wiped from all of Irken memory and deactivated.

Thus concludes this week’s Announcements of Interest. I must now go and attend to another matter at hand that may or may not involve me electrocuting some slaves and laughing at their pain. Invader Stick, out.

[Encrypted Transmission Ended]

Interview with a Food Service Drone

Transmission: [Encrypted]
Originator: Invader Stick
PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42
Subject: Interview with a Food Service Drone

To those Irkens Worthy Enough to Receive this Transmission:

I, Invader Stick, have recently had the “pleasure” of interacting with those members of our Society who are referred to as “Food Service Drones.” Due to a variety of factors that make them not awesome enough to be a distinguished member of the “Invader” class of Irkens, their PAKs have been encoded so as to assign them the honor of serving those of us who are actually worth something in life. Their days are long, greasy, and full of smelly smells that make the squeedly spooch quiver in an unnatural manner, yet their services provide nourishment to the glorious Armada to ensure that the Irken Military does not conquer the universe on an empty stomach.

In this transmission, I will present to you an interview with one of these Food Serve Service Drones so that some light can be shed on their pitiful yet essential existence. Also, I stabbed one in the eye with a spork because he messed up my order, and so this interview was also conducted as part of my “anger management therapy.”

The interview can be found below:

Invader Stick: Hello, Food Service Drone. Do you have anything to say before we formally start this interview?

Food Service Drone: I lost an eye because of you!

Invader Stick: You’ve still got another one, stop complaining! Now, the first question I have is…

Food Service Drone: My eye!

Invader Stick: SILENCE! Now, first question: Where do you conduct your daily Food Service duties?

Food Service Drone: I work at Shloogorgh’s Flavor Monster on Planet Foodcourtia. We were voted the #1 restaurant to dine at during the last Great Foodening!

Invader Stick: That sounds very interesting.

Food Service Drone: You don’t look very interested.

Invader Stick: That’s because I was lying. Next question: Why are you so horrible at your job?

Food Service Drone: I’m horrible at MY job? What’s an “Invader” doing writing transmissions, anyway? I doubt you’ve even conquered a single planet!

Invader Stick: I’ll have you know that I single-handedly conquered Planet Forgon in less than three hours. THREE HOURS! I am the greatest Invader OF ALL TIME!

Food Service Drone: “Planet Forgon?” I’ve never even heard of tha…

Invader Stick: I will be asking the questions here!

Food Service Drone: That wasn’t really a question, though.

Invader Stick: I SAID I WILL ASK THE QUESTIONS! Now, next question: What does a typical day in the life of a Food Service Slave entail?

Food Service Drone: That’s “Drone,” not, “Slave.”

Invader Stick: I fail to see a difference.

Food Service Drone: I get paid for my job! Slaves don’t get paid.

Invader Stick: That’s what they WANT you to think.

Food Service Drone: That doesn’t make any…oh, forget it. Anyway, my shift starts a couple of hours before the lunch rush, so once I report to work I start chopping and preparing the meat to be thrown into the fryer. That usually takes an hour, and then once that’s done I throw everything into the fryer and let the grease cook it for about 10 to 15 minutes. Then I take it out, and repeat the process a few more times before I finally move to the register to deal with the customers.

Invader Stick: What a sickening existence. How have you not bludgeoned yourself to death yet?

Food Service Drone: You know, some people actually ENJOY doing this kind of stuff.

Invader Stick: They must be borderline Defective, then. Moving on to the next question: What miserable and pathetic qualities do you possess that make you uniquely suited for this lowly existence of making barely edible foodstuffs?

Food Service Drone: Well, as you know, every Irken Smeet is attached to a PAK upon its creation. This PAK is then encoded to perform the task that the Irken is deemed most suitable for. Because of my love of food and enhanced sense of smell, I was encoded with the position of “Food Service Drone.”

Invader Stick: “Love of food and sense of smell?” No, I’m pretty sure you were forced into this sub-par position because you are tiny, fragile, and lack any sort of intelligence whatsoever.

Food Service Drone: Hey, you have to be really smart to do my job!

Invader Stick: Then WHY did you mess up my order?

Food Service Drone: I didn’t! You ordered extra crispy, I gave you extra crispy!

Invader Stick: I did no such thing!

Food Service Drone: It’s on your receipt!

Invader Stick: YOU LIE!

Food Service Drone: I have a copy right here, see?

Invader Stick: I will not look at your lying paper of filth and lies!

Food Service Drone: That’s because you know you’re wrong.

Invader Stick: You dare to question me?! THAT’S IT! Where’s my spork?!

Food Service Drone: Hey! Get away from……seriously! That really hur……AH! THE PAIN! THE P……WHY AM I BURNING?! I CAN’T SEE ANYTHI…….


[Transmission Lost. Encrypted Transmission Ended]

Announcements to the Irken Armada

Transmission: [Encrypted]

Originator: Invader Stick

PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42

Subject: Announcements

To the Mighty and Awesome Irken Armada:

The following are announcements of interest I have been instructed to disseminate amongst the entire Irken Armada. They were originally supposed to be transmitted by a different Irken, but that individual cut in front of me in the lunch line and I was forced to throw him into a vat of hot grease to teach him a lesson. Therefore, I have been assigned to transmit the announcements until the line-cutter recovers from his burns.

The announcements of interest for the Irken Armada are as follows:

  1. All Megadoomer orders are hereby cancelled until further notice, due to complaints of various power issues and glitches in the robot’s cloaking ability. No refunds will be issued. Those who insist on receiving a refund are directed to jump into a pit of molten lava.

  2. Shloogorgh’s Flavor Monster restaurant on Planet Foodcourtia is now accepting applications for Food Service Drone positions. Those seeking employment at Shloogorgh’s are urged to apply immediately, as positions are expected to fill up fast. A 20% bonus is offered for those willing to work during the next Great Foodening.

  3. To the owner of the blue and gold Voot Cruiser that is parked illegally in front of the snack stand on Planet Conventia: You have eight minutes to move your vehicle before it is exploded, and your own innards are disemboweled. HURRY UP AND MOVE IT, FILTHY SNACK BLOCKER!

  4. All Irkens are reminded that engaging in acts of friendship with lesser species is strictly forbidden, unless it is part of a sanctioned Invader mission. Further violations of this directive will result in re-assignment to Planet Dirt.

  5. The new season of “Ultimate Survivor: Planet Blorch Edition” will begin airing next week at 8:00PM.

  6. Invaders assigned to Operation <transmission scrambled> are urged to don your protective plastic outerwear and meet at Planet <transmission scrambled> for enhanced training. Failure to complete the training will result in instant banishment to Planet Hurtia.

That is all of the announcements of interest for this week. Praise be to the Almighty Tallest and the Magnificent Irken Armada! Invader Stick, out.

[Encrypted Transmission Ended]

Transmission from Invader Stick

Transmission: [Encrypted]

Originator: Invader Stick

PAK Code: 061<scrambled>42

Subject: Filthy “Romances”

To the Mighty Irken Armada and any “hyuuumans” that may be viewing this transmission (wait a second, hyuuumans aren’t supposed to be in this network…GET OUT!):

At the behest of the Almighty Tallest, I, Invader Stick, have been commissioned to write about various PUNY issues and topics that may be of interest to the Glorious Irken Armada as punishment for the “Galley Filthening Incident” that occurred aboard the Massive. I am not proud of what I did, and I deeply apologize to those who were affected by it. The Tallest have shown great mercy in assigning me this completely awesome and not at all demeaning task instead of sending me to the bowels of Planet Dirt to battle the giant “Dust Monkey Robot Monster” that has recently taken up residence there. Praise be to The Almighty Tallest!

Recently, there have been some rumblings amongst you about the possibilities of what the “hyuuumans” call “romance.” Such a word is foreign and itchy to the majestic Irken Culture, and this word has no doubt caused all of you to roll around in a pile of radioactive Forgon excrement that has mutated the brainworms already infesting your pathetic head cavities. If this is indeed the case, I urge those of you affected to get the worms removed promptly, perhaps by jettisoning yourselves into the nearest star so as to prevent contaminating the rest of us.

Some of the most disturbing rumors have concerned a romance between the hyuuuman female known as “Gaz” and the Irken “Invader” known as Zim. Let me assure you all that no such romance would EVER occur; we Irkens have no need for “affection,” unless of course by “affection” you mean “Wanton destruction and terror.” The very notion that an Irken, even one as loathsome and idiotic as ZIM, would ever give a PUNY hyuuuman a box of filthy chocolates or hold hands with them without full-body protection so as not to contract “cootees,” is simply INSANE. Those of you suggesting such things are ordered to throw yourselves into the nearest bottomless pit…NOW!

Some of you have even whispered about Zim having a romance with his malfunctioning SIR, or as he calls it, “GIR” unit. Are you serious? The SIR units are weapons of awesome destruction that also serve to keep foodstuffs hot and/or cold. To suggest that one would be used to fill some non-existent void of “love” should be grounds for treason! MARCH YOURSELVES TO THE NEAREST TEST FIRING RANGE! On second thought, DON’T, as you’ll probably believe that the lasers are just trying to hug you, thus making the experience less terrifying for you and less entertaining for me.

I could go on and on with the disgusting possibilities…Zim and Tak romances? What sort of madness is this?! The closest thing to an Irken “mating ritual” is the “Great Smeet Stomping,” which as you know involves the act of many Irkens applying their boots to thousands of smeets in an attempt to see which ones are worthy enough to continue their pathetic, useless life cycles. Does this sound “romantic” to you? If you answered, “yes,” disregard my previous non-order about the lasers. They DO want to hug you. Really.

Perhaps the most loathsome “romance” that has been discussed is one between Zim and Dib. Zim and Dib are ENEMIES! Since when do Irkens “make nice” with their enemies?! I suppose that if we offered to take the Slaughtering Rat People of Planet Blorch out to a movie, they would no longer want to eat our faces in a slow and painful manner, right? I encourage anyone who thinks this would work to try it, and then report back to me with your findings…which will most likely be in sign language, as I do not expect you to return with a head. The Irken people pride ourselves on our ability to squish those who oppose us, like tiny little bugs made of putty and goo. PUTTY AND
GOO, I SAY! Zim may be a moron, but he still possesses the overzealous desire
to crush mankind; because of this, a “romance” with the big-headed Dib child is
simply too ridiculous to fathom.

Hyuuumans, and all other non-Irken life forms, are trash and filth that are only useful for cleaning the sludge pits of Sludgetopia 9 and, on occasion, delivering packages in a speedy and convenient manner. An Irken Invader, even one who isn’t actually an Invader but is delusional enough to THINK he is, would NEVER lower himself to such a disgusting level by engaging in acts of “love.” AH, the word itself is causing my squeedly spooch to vibrate in a most unpleasant manner! UNPLEASANT, I TELL YOU!

It is all too much to continue thinking about. I must now attend to other matters that do not involve envisioning the destruction of you all…just of some of you. Invader Stick, out.

[Encrypted Transmission Ended]