A/N: Mwahaha! Not much to say.... There's going to be three chapters.

Ah yeah...I won't make chapter two if no one finds the plot interesting..._

Disclaimer: Invader Zim is (c) Jhonen Vasquez. Will Smith is (c) ..Himself? o_O; And Dance Dance Revolution is (c) PS XD;;

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Gettin' Jiggy Wit It!

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Ch 1: The Dance Machine

It was fall.

It was that time of year where all of those spiffy events are held to help supposed 'fundraisers' and 'trips'. It was also that time where the oak trees around the skool would grow to suspicious lengths, forming a large canopy of red leaves above the roof. The students long ago stopped wondering why the shrubbery around the area would GROW in the fall, for they knew they would get no answer.

Dib, being the one often to wonder, looked out of the window. Bright sunlight shined on the buildings, stopping on the exact place the sidewalk started. He watched a chipmunk and a squirrel claw at each other before they rolled into the playground, and disappeared from his view.

"Students, listen up!"

Dib turned his attention to the intercom. The rest of the students silenced, and waited for the announcement.

"Me, being Mr. Elliot, would like to make a special announcement."

Zim's eyes goggled. Dib glared.

"This Friday, the school is having its annual Dance Competition!"

Ms. Bitters scoffed. The classroom turned into the direction of Zita, who was now holding up her head proudly. She looked over Zim's shoulder, and smirked.

"For the past three years, *I* have won the Dance Competition with no problem. No one has DARED to try and beat me for the grand prize."

Zim turned around. But before he could make a comment, Mr. Elliot bean to speak once more:

"Unfortunately, the Free-style division had to be eliminated due to the inappropriate dancing last year."

Old Kid grumbled.

"But this year, we have a *NEW* way for the competition to be judged by! The Dance Machine!"

Zita recoiled. "But...they can't do that! Even the *nerds* would be able to win!"

Zim lowered an eye. The whole concept of having a competition based on 'dancing' techniques were completely ridiculous. Irkens certainly had better things to do than dance...

"The Dance Machine is a newly imported dance coordinator from Japan that can record your moves to see if they follow the designated steps. Points are deducted when a step is missed. In each round, five people are eliminated until five are left. After that, the person with the lowest score is eliminated from each round until two people are left standing.

"In each round, there will be a different style of dancing from many cultures. It would make it easier to win if you knew a lot of dancing techniques. Have fun!"

Mr. Elliot giggled madly before the microphone was violently torn away from him. A few curse words were heard over the intercom. A long, loud screeching noise echoed throughout the halls until the microphone was suddenly cut off. The classroom began to buzz; everyone was wondering what the machine might look like.

Dib grumbled. He hated this time of year when they did their stupid little dances. He never did go. What business did he have there? Just to stand around?

He looked across his row at Zim. He had a rather quizzical look on his face. He pulled out a piece of paper, and began to write rapidly.

Dib stood up. He fell to his knees, and began to crawl under the desks.

"I remember last year. I was in my infamous Cleopatra attire. I was the only one who could dance to 'Another Day' [ A/N: Outlaw Star ^^ ] in 3'inch sandals."

Dib stood up.

"ZIM!!!"

Zim looked up at him. "What is it, CRAZEE?"

Dib glared. "*You* must be crazy if you think you're going to enter that contest."

Zita pushed him out of the way. "I knew it! The nerds are going to TAKE OVER!"

Zim jumped onto his desk. "I *SHALL* enter the contest, and *win* like any talented human baby."

Dib grinned. "Does dancing *exist* on your planet Zim? Huh? DOES IT?!?"

Zim crossed his arms. "I know how to dance! I'm very good at it! I just won't *BLIND* you with my amazing-ness at the moment. I must save my talent for the...GRAND PRIZE," he said with evil happiness in his voice.

"This year's prize is the world in Mr.-- HEY!" Several people behind her diverted her attention.

Zim sat back down, and began to write again. Dib walked back to his seat. He listen the classroom's chatter until Ms. Bitters made everyone shut-up. The bell rung and Ms. Bitters drove everyone out of the classroom within a matter of seconds.

Dib ran down the steps, looking around for Gaz. He sighted her walking out of the shadow across the street, eyes stuck on her Gameslave 2.

"GAZ!" He called out. He stepped out into the light. He squinted his eyes.

Gaz ignored his cry, and continued to walk. Dib caught up with her, panting.

"Gaz...Zim is entering the Dance Competition!"

Gaz shrugged. "So? It *would* be an interesting sight to see, but..."

"But he's going to plan something positively evil! What should I do?"

Gaz got an annoyed look on her face. "I don't know. Take dance lessons. Now Shut-up!"

Dib stared. Dance lessons? He had never considered learning how to dance before; it never seemed to be a big problem. Paranormal investigators didn't *need* to learn how to dance. But he had to...for the world...

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Dib flipped through the phone book. Where was it? He had remember seeing his name before...

"AHA!!"

He wrote down the number and address. He stuffed it into his coat pocket, and walked upstairs to his room.

"Hopefully Will Smith won't have a busy schedule tomorrow evening..."