Dib stroad (stroad? Is that a word? Well, he kind of walked confidently) across the Skool playground area. He stroad on long, lanky legs because it is a minimum of three years after the series ended, and he is now in middle school or high school, because that is sexier. Even though Dib was now tall and a total hunk, he still wore the same childhood clothes: a pale-navy-dull-bluish shirt with a perfect circular-like-shape with a a horizontal line about three-fifths down said circular-like-shape. This line was preceded by two plain black dots of equal size and color, and on the whole this shape resembled an unsmiling face, but I am going to be a professional writer some day so I need to describe it in way more detail that just that. As Dib stroad (Microsoft Word says that's not a word but I've seen it before!) down the sidewalk, his jet-black hair, shaped like a great curved scythe, bobbed in the slight breeze on the pleasant light-orange-skied day…
Eight paragraphs of description later, Dib spotted Zim across the grass. It seemed so long ago now that the little Irken had come to Earth… gah, how many fights had it been? And in those fights, especially after the series ended, there had been much character development, the two coming to see each other not as enemies but as respectable opponents, each always able to come back from a defeat and totally pwn (is that a word?) the other. This character development was slow, but so important, you really should have been there.
Oh well. This story is where that all comes to a head, resulting in, and I do not wish to spoil anything, but I will say that the thing that happens rhymes with "schmex".
Anyway, I'm pretty sure that what was happening right now was that Dib saw Zim on the playground. Oh, he really hated that Zim, for now.
"Hey, Zim!" he shouted. "I'm gonna stop your evil plan!"
I forgot to exposit about Zim's evil plan, or how Dib found out about it, but we'll let it slide as I really wanna get to the schmex.
"You'll never defeat me, Earth stink!" Zim shouted. "As you've never defeated me before!"
"I've defeated you so many times! Almost every time, really!"
"You're lying!"
"I am not! I stand opposed to your goals!"
"And I stand opposed to your opposition of my goals!"
"How many more exchanges do you think we need before the audience gets the idea that we currently hate each other?!"
"At least four!"
"Okay! Rrarghh!"
"Aghh!"
"Grrach! You!"
"Curse you!"
"Fuck you!" That's right. I used "fuck" in this story. It's really a raw, uncensored, emotional story.
"Rragh! Filth!" Zim retorted.
"Although I am currently demonstrating my hatred for you, this display mainly serves as a dramatic contrast for when it is revealed that—yes!—I have held deep repressed romantic feelings for you since the day I laid eyes on you, you feisty little bug-man, you!"
"…What?"
Satisfied, Dib turned around and marched home, his lanky lankiness swaying lankily in the gentle breeze. You just can't wait to see him naked, can you?