by Ileah

Zim and Dib faced each other across the darkened playground. Rubber piggies littered the ground in a strange geometry.

"Gir!" Zim shouted. "Duelist mode!"

Gir's eyes flashed red. "Yes, my Prince!"

He snapped backwards at the hips, panels on his chest swinging open. A moose floated out and squeaked.

"No, Gir! The sword!" Zim yelled in growing panic as Dib advanced. "What did you do with the sword?"

"I made a sammich," Gir chirped, still bent backwards.

"It's too late now, Zim!" Dib seethed gleefully, hoisting his Super-Soaker. "You'll never revolutionize the world on my watch!"