NOTE: Hi! Me here. I'm just here to introduce this fic, entitled How Do You Do it? Ish an Invader Zim fic, of course, and it's ZADR. That's SLASH. Mmmyep. I like food. Sorta angsty, sorta funny. Has cameos…blah. As for the history in this story, I did the lesson on Cleopatra last year, so I'm not sure I've got it right. If it is wrong, please just excuse my stupidity. Thanks.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own IZ, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, or anything in this fic but the scary history lady. All characters, product mockeries, and other things like that belong to the almighty skinny Jhonen Vasquez, who will kick me in the proverbial balls (I's a girl) if he ever finds this fic. Bands all belong to themselves. Read on.
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Dib stared down at his paper, frowning at the large red 'F' that adorned the top. Ah, history, he thought, so we meet again…He let out a sigh, as the class droned on something about Cleopatra and Marc Anthony. High skool history was such shit. How he hated it. Oh, he hated it good.
They stopped. Finally. And the bell rang. Yes! Time for home! Just as he was about to leave, the teacher called out.
"Dib! Can I speak to you, please? Yes, the rest of you are dismissed…have a great weekend!" She giggled. Usually he would have said that she was a nice change from Mrs. Bitters, but somehow she was even more annoying. All…positive.
"Um, yes Miss Flump?" he asked nervously, picking up his books and walking to the front just as the last student filed out of the room.
"Yeah, hon, I just wanted to talk to you about your last test grade? I was very disappointed in you, Dib! Your other teachers tell me you're a very good student. When I heard you were in my class this year, I really thought you'd do better." Even with the apparent disappointment, she sounded as if nothing in the world could be better. "So, anyhoo, in light of this, I've decided to assign you a tutor."
Dib held in a sound of worry. He had spent most of his time in high skool trying to avoid other students. The only one he ever spoke to was Gaz, who was equally disenchanted with the rest of the student body. He had been picked on. She just hated them.
The perky blond woman continued. "I think you know him. He's in my fourth period class. Zim? You know Zim, right?"
He froze in terror. Zim? He hadn't spoken to Zim since middle skool, except for the occasional attempt at foiling evil plans. He'd thought he'd be free of the alien once they had been assigned different schedules in ninth grade.
"Um, yes," he answered slowly, attempting not to wring her neck right then and there.
"He's making A's in this class, and he doesn't have any extracurricular activities, and neither do you, so I figured you two could meet this weekend or something and get familiar with the subject. Do you know where he lives?"
"Yes, ma'am, he's only a few streets over from me. But…couldn't I just get help from my dad? I mean, he is a world-famous scientist and all…"
"Don't be silly, Dib! We all know your father is way too busy. Anyway, I suggest you talk to Zim sometime over the weekend. See you Monday!"
He opened his mouth to protest, but then realized that she was right. His dad wouldn't care. Hell, Gaz was making C's in most of her classes, and doing only enough work to barely pass. He hadn't said a word to her. Oh, well. Dib worked hard for himself, not anybody else, though it would be nice if his dad showed some sort of pride in him. But he'd given that up a long time ago.
"Bye, Miss Flump."
"Mm-hmm."
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Oh. There was Zim. Across the parking lot. Dib frowned again, and started the walk to his car. He'd been late this morning, and therefore had been forced to park his Ford Falcon all the way on the side on which the alien was currently standing impatiently, as if waiting. Zim had changed quite a bit. For one, he had had a growth spurt a few years back. Now he was only a few inches over five feet, but it was still a drastic improvement. His shirt was dark red, and his pants were a pair of baggy ripped jeans and motorcycle boots. Of course, his pod was still where it always was. His wig wasn't as neat as it used to be, though.
As he reflected, Zim was thinking much the same thing. It had been a long time since he had last spoken to Dib. He had never noticed subtle changes in him. Such as his change of clothing. Dib still wore mostly dark colors. His shirt was black with the sign for anarchy written across it in traditional red, his pants tight black denim, and his shoes black Converse with flames (1). His hair was the same as usual. He was rather tall, even more so than most jocks.
He wore the usual dark jacket when it was cold, but trenchcoats had been banned several years back due to an incident involving a middle skool student, a dartboard, and a package of swizzle sticks. It hadn't been pleasant.
The dark-haired young man pulled out his keys upon sight of his car, and walked around to unlock it, but Zim stepped in front of him.
"Zim, what the hell? Will you get out of the way?"
"I've been given an assignment," the alien said slowly, drawing out the last word as if it were venom.
"Yeah, I know. You're supposed to tutor me in history. Miss Flump told me after eighth period." Dib looked annoyed, and he pushed Zim out of the way to unlock his door.
"I'm going to lose grades if you fail any tests after the next one."
"Really? Don't know why they're being tough on you. What the fuck do you care about school, anyway? You don't even have to be here. Why didn't you withdraw?"
"The Tallest require me to be—"
"Oh, one of those things. Whatever. Umm, look, let's get this over with. How about I come over to your house this afternoon and you can tutor me? Not much to lose, right?"
"Why would I want you at my house? So you can destroy my base and wreck my experiments? Foil my next plan?"
Dib sighed. "Zim, I haven't had to foil any of your plans in nearly four years. And you know why? I realized something: they're all shit! You foil yourself. I don't even have to enter the equation, and already you've beat yourself out. God, honestly. Like I've got nothing better to do in the afternoons than chase after some alien whose half-assed plans can't get off the ground anyway…These people are all morons, and even they can spot your pathetic schemes a mile away. You're running out of ideas."
"You will not insult the mighty ZIM!!" The Irken's eye twitched slightly as he rose himself as high on his tiptoes as he could, which still didn't reach Dib's amazing five-foot-eight. "My plans are better than anything YOU could ever think of!"
"Then it's lucky I'm not trying to take over the world."
"AAAGH! Your ears! I'll have your EARS for that remark!"
"So, anyhow, what about the tutoring?"
"I will come to your house! This afternoon?"
"Fine." Dib rolled his eyes and checked his watch. "How about now? Except I have to wait for Gaz. She's late for some reason…"
"Fine."
"Okay. Well, get in. But…I'd take the back if I were you. Gaz reeeally likes the front." Dib chuckled.
"What? ZIM shall sit where he pleases! No frightening little girl will get in the way of this!"
"Um, riiight…" said Dib skeptically, watching a shadow rise behind the short alien.
"Get. In. The. Back," said a frightening, raspy voice. Zim jumped and turned around to face Gaz, who was wearing her usual outfit of purple and black. Her hair was pulled back slightly from her face. It was still purple.
Zim squeaked and climbed in the back. Dib got in to the driver's seat, and Gaz, who couldn't drive yet, sat in the passenger seat and switched on her GS4. They pulled out of the parking lot, and Dib turned on the CD player.
"The position being taken is not to be mistaken for attempted education or righteous accusation! It is only a description, just an observation of the pitiful condition of our degeneration!"
All this happened to have been said very loudly, and at such an alarming pace that Zim popped up and hit his head on the ceiling of the car. Gaz held her ears and yelled,
"Dib, turn that shit off! You know I hate Operation Ivy!"
Dib switched the CD off and glared at her. "But you liked the Ramones…Well what do you want to listen to?"
"How about the Japanese Vampire Piggy Hunter soundtrack." She said this more as an order than a request.
"Fine." He scrambled around the visor, where a CD case held all of the discs he owned that he'd decided to keep in the car. He pulled out one with Japanese characters on it, and popped it in, muttering, "You're lucky I liked the anime…"
Gaz simply looked as if he were joking. Zim blinked, and calmed down as the sounds of Japanese rock filled the car. By this time, they were just driving past a MacMeaties, and turned at a stop light. Finally, Gaz had to ask.
"What's green boy doing with us, anyway? Or should I ask?" She gave a vicious and perverted grin.
"He's supposed to be tutoring me, Gaz. Feel free to torture him, though. School okay for you?"
"Sucked," she answered casually. "What do you care?"
"Just wondering."
Zim cocked an eyebrow. He was beginning to think this whole family scared him.
"Zim!" said Dib loudly, shocking him out of his thoughts. "You're too…quiet. What are you planning?! Are you going to explode our heads?"
"I thought you said my plans were shit, Dib-worm," Zim replied smugly.
"They are," Dib assured him. "I was only joking. Jeezus, Zim."
He pulled into the driveway, and they all piled out of the car, Gaz carrying her messenger bag, Dib a large black bookbag, and Zim had nothing, as all his things were in his pod. They walked in through the front door and into the kitchen.
"Yeah, so…uh, guess we'll go up to my room and study, Zim. You wanna join, Gaz?"
"Fuck off…I've gotta go to the arcade."
"Um, okay…"
Zim glared off out the window at the horizon, and finally said, "Let's hurry up with this, I've got to get home and yell at GIR."
"What'd he do wrong?" Dib asked with a chuckle.
"There's always something…"
"Point taken. I'll show you up to my room. C'mon." He hauled his stuff to the foot of the stairs, and gave Zim an 'are you coming?' look. The alien followed.
Once in Dib's room, the young paranormalist shut the door loudly and dropped his books on the bed. He had a lot of homework. After a short search, he found his history book, and tossed it on the floor, then walked over to the CD player.
"Hey, you don't mind if turn on the CD player, do you? I mean since Gaz left. It really helps me concentrate. Ramones sound good?"
"I don't care, but…Ramones?"
"Oh, yeah…you don't know much about music, do you?"
"Not really. Not much except classical music. I studied it for the stupid history thing…the woman scares me. She makes my squeedily-spooch hurt."
Dib laughed, which earned him a venomous look. "Sorry. I just love that word…squeedily-spooch. It's so fun to say."
"Pssh. I don't laugh at your internal organs…" Zim looked indignant.
"Well, I do…some of these words are just really funny…like…spleen. Spleeeeen. Or…or…tibia…well, that's not an organ, but hell…"
Zim smiled. But just a little. "Okay. Well, anyway, let's move on. What chapter is your class on?"
"Let's see…aw, crap…what chapter…?" Dib frowned. Zim did, too.
"You don't even know what chapter your class is on? Don't you listen in class?"
"If I did, do you think I'd have to have you tutoring me?"
"Hm. Good point."
"Well…I think it's got something to do with Cleopatra, if that helps…" He looked hopeful.
"Wait…umm…chapter six. Yeah." Zim seemed quite self-satisfied. They began to study as the CD player blared across the room…
"DDT did a job on me, now I am a real sickie…guess I'm gonna have to tell 'em that I got no cerebellum…gonna get my PhD, I'm a teenage lobotomy!"
Two hours had passed. Dib was getting confused.
"Wait…so, Octavian wanted to marry Cleopatra…?"
"No, no…Octavian hated her. See, Octavian had a sister named Octavia, and they were both Caesar's children. Anyhow, Marc Antony was Octavia's husband, but he'd gone off to be with Cleopatra. Octavian wanted revenge for his sister."
"Oh. Okay, I see…go on."
"Marc Antony killed himself because he thought Cleopatra was dead. Octavian was going to shame Cleopatra by parading her through the streets and letting the people mock her. She decided that, as queen she would rather die than live through that shame. So, she had someone sneak a poisonous asp into her chambers, and she made it bite her, and died."
"Gawd. That's pretty serious. She killed herself just to keep from being shamed?"
Zim cocked a nonexistent eyebrow. "She was a queen. A ruler has to be respected. She wouldn't have had respect if they'd done that to her."
"Hmm. Well, you would know, huh?" Dib chuckled.
"Shut up."
"Hey, Zim?"
"What? What do you want of ZIM?!" Zim snapped.
"You're not even trying to take over the world anymore, are you?"
Zim hesitated. "Um…well…I guess…you're right. The plans stopped even partially working. They really sucked. So I quit trying."
"Wow. What about the orders from the Tallest?"
"Dib-worm…the Tallest haven't transmitted to me in nearly two years now." There was a hint of shame in his tone.
"Huh. Zim…that's too bad."
"What do you mean? This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? For me to fail and all of my ego to deflate like a fucking blow-up doll?" He glared.
Dib cringed at that last reference, but persisted. "Yeah…well, after I quit trying to foil you, life got sort of boring. I hardly ever talk to people anyway, but at least when I was attempting to thwart your retarded-ass plans, I didn't feel like I was alone. I mean, I still chase after Bigfoot and all, but it's not the same as having a real alien right under your nose. And the worst part is, I realized that I'm just as bad a paranormalist as you are an Invader. I'm surprised the Swollen Eyeballs haven't kicked me out yet and…sorry, I think I got off on a tangent. See what I mean? I barely ever talk to anyone anymore. I'm almost as bad as that guy down the street, you know, number 777…except my house doesn't have noises coming from it in the night. (2) Um, sorry again."
Zim soaked all this in as best he could. It was strange to hear Dib rant like this. Especially to him. He cleared his throat to say something….nothing came.
"Umm, do you want something to drink or something?" Dib said suddenly, looking around the room in an odd manner.
"Yeeeah…sure. I guess."
The taller boy checked his watch. "Shit. We've been up here for nearly three hours. My dad should be home by now if he's not out curing something or whatever. Fucking diseases…um, I think I'll walk down to the 24/7 and get a Brainfreezy. You wanna come?"
"Don't you have a car?"
"Yeah, but it's only a few blocks away, and I don't want to waste gas on something stupid like that."
"Oh. Um. Sure."
"Cool. I guess I could walk you back home if—"
"Hell no! You wish to destroy my base and dissect my brain-meeeeeats!" He had taken on that tone as if he already owned the world. Which he didn't.
Dib's warm smile faded. "Well, fuck, Zim. I thought something NICE might be happening for once, but hey, I guess your brain-meats are more important."
"Well, Dib-human, I'm glad you realize that."
"It was sarcasm, Zim. Seven letter word. Starts with 'S.'"
"Look, I just don't want you to come to the base. I don't like having people over. Especially not with GIR around. I'm still getting chocolate sauce off the walls."
"Fine, Zim. Let's just go get a Brainfreezy before one of us has no brains left to be frozen."
"…Okay."
Dib leaned over the bed to turn off the CD player (now on 'Blitzkrieg Bop'…how I love that song), and turned back to Zim.
"I guess this is gonna be a regular occurrence now…for a while, anyway."
"Yeah."
They both walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Zim following Dib like a lost puppy. His dad was sitting on a stool by the counter, tinkering with something that looked like a radioactive ball of spikes. The famous scientist turned his head swiftly upon hearing his son's entry, but stayed facing the ball of metal.
"Dib! How was skool?"
"It was okay. Same as usual."
"Oh." His gaze shifted to the green intruder. "Who's this?"
"This is Zim, dad. He's tutoring me in history." Dib rolled his eyes.
"Hello, Sim, I hope Dib's made you feel welcome!"
Zim twitched an eye. "Well—"
"Anyhoo, Dib, where's your sister?"
Dib chuckled at Zim's look of irritation. "She went to the arcade. I guess she's honing her piggy-hunting skills. Or something."
"That's nice."
"Mmmyep. Seeya—waitaminit! Dad what exactly are you doing to the toaster?"
Professor Membrane turned fully to face the two young men, and raised a finger in a scientisty-like gesture. "It needs UPGRADING!"
"Dad," Dib said, raising an eyebrow. "It's got a radio with six antennae, a clock, an internal detonator, and a fully functioning satellite TV. I don't think it needs any more upgrades! And what's more, I don't think it even makes toast anymore! Gaz tried yesterday! It didn't! Isn't that sort of vital to the whole CONCEPT of a toaster?"
"Hmm…as a matter of fact, it is…well, seeya son."
Dib shrugged. "Bye, dad."
Zim made a face. This family definitely scared him. Of course, he'd never admit it…but they did.
(1) My friend has some Converses that look like that. They're really fuckin' cool. My other friend has a plaid pair, but I haven't talked to her since before Christmas…
(2) JTHM reference number one.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay…the song is 'Room Without a Window' by Operation Ivy, and the other is 'Teenage Lobotomy' by (ba-duh) the Ramones, two of my favorite punk bands ever. The CD I got RWW off is a compilation with 27 tracks. I got it for Christmas. It made me happy. So very happy…Anyhoo, I like the idea of Dib liking these sorts of things ("But you liked the Ramones…") and then Gaz with the J-Rock. Dib's gonna be a little bitter later on (notice his reaction to Zim's plans this time around), but not too bad. He's just gotten smarter.