"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!"