So, I'm watching ZIM and writing my research paper on the Civil War, and my head just started going...so I had to write this. People, it's my head...if you like, send the kudos...if you don't, send the CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I've written some other stories to in other places...and some readers can get mean. I love reviews, just be kind...pwease...anyways...ENJOY!

"GIR! You are bothering me…more than usual! Go upstairs and watch tv!"

Zim was in the main room of his lab, preparing to give his weekly report to the Tallest when Gir had come shooting down the elevator shaft giggling at an unthinkable high pitch, and proceed to push random buttons.

"I CAN'T!" Gir shouted back happily.

Zim raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Did you break the tv again? I told you, the human-pigs that are on the tv aren't IN it! You can't touch them!"
Gir shook his head. "No…the tv is still a happy tv…" The little robot stopped pushing buttons and looked down at his feet.

Zim became nervous. "Well, then, what?"

Gir looked up. "Dibby and Gazzy are at the door!" He smiled, gave a surprised Zim a hug, and ran back up the elevator shaft.

"WHAT? How did those stink-meats get at the door?? Where are my gnomes? Computer, upstairs, NOW!"

After grabbing his wig and lenses, Zim made the door transparent to see if it was really Gaz and Dib. Gaz was impatiently tapping her foot while Dib was standing on tiptoe trying to look through the side window. Seizing a moment to hurt Dib, Zim suddenly swung the door open, knocking the boy onto the grass. Gaz snickered.

"What do you what?" Zim asked.

Dib turned over and rubbed his knee. "We have to go to Skool early, remember? We have our project…"

Zim sighed and slapped his forehead. "Right…stupid Skool. Why do I go?" He slammed the door, yelled something at Gir, and then returned with a binder.

"Remind me again why we were partners for this filthy…thing?" Zim grumbled as he started down the walk, following Dib and Gaz.

"Ms. Bitters chose the partners, there's nothing we could've done. Being partners in a history project…for 6th grade…is a legal binding contract and…breaking it is a capital crime." Dib stopped. "Why do we go to this Skool?" He asked thoughtfully.

Gaz turned to the two boys. "If you don't hurry up, I'll go back on my agreement to help you with this project…and you BOTH will suffer horrible consequences for wasting my time!"

Dib and Zim hurried to catch up to Gaz. They walked in silence for a while, until Dib asked, "Did you finish the written part?"

Zim nodded. "Yes, I even made a cover page," he handed the binder to Dib and asked, "Do you have the presentation?"

Dib nodded too as he flipped through the binder. The project was counting for 100 percent of their history grade, and Dib wanted to make sure Zim didn't screw anything up. As he flipped through the binder, though, Dib was not disappointed. He glanced over at Zim.

"You paid attention to Ms. Bitters lecture on plagiarism, right? This isn't some Oxford dissertation, is it?"

"You accuse me, ZIM, of stealing such intelligence as that! Stupid worm-baby!"

"Fine, FINE! You did this yourself!" Dib switched sides so that Gaz was between him and Zim, and continued to flip through the binder. As they reached the Skool, most of the 6th grade was arriving as well. The project consisted of partnerships of two or three, and the students were responsible for putting together an oral and written presentation of a moment in history they drew out of a hat. This grade, along with their other subjects, would determine if they were good enough to attend Jr. Skool the next fall.

Zim and Dib had been working for weeks on their subject, the American Civil War. Dib was surprised at how diligently Zim was working on the subject, but it didn't take long for him to figure out that the only reason Zim wanted to go to Jr. Skool was to gain more information about Earth. Caught between a rock (failing the project so Zim can't go to Jr. Skool) and a hard place (he wouldn't be able to go as well), Dib decided to just give in and work on the project. Since Zim's computer programs wouldn't be compatible with anything on Earth, Dib took responsibility for making the visual while Zim typed up the written report and got the costumes.

As they entered the Skool with the rest of the kids, Dib handed the binder back to Zim.

"Wow…that was actually…really good. Where did you find all those primary sources? Like, the letters and diary's…and that letter from General Meagher to Lincoln, where did you find that? I didn't even think that was real…but all your citations are correct."

Zim looked around nervously. "Oh, you know…I got it from history…"

Dib was about to question Zim more, but Gaz slapped him on the back of the head.

"Do you have my costume? And my money?" She asked angrly.

Dib gave Gaz a huge wad of bills as Zim dug a garment bag out of his Pak. "Here you go," Zim said. Gaz hissed at him, took the clothes, and left to change. "Spawn of another realm…" Zim whispered after her.

Dib pulled Zim by the arm. "C'mon, we have to see when we are to go." He lead Zim up to a crowed message Kiosk that was running the announcements for the day. He stood a tip toe and scanned the list of presentations.

"We're…last." He said. "We aren't schedualed until…11! No one will be here for ours, everyone will want to go to lunch!" Part of their grade was also how well satisfied the student body was with their presentation.

"Oh, I think they'll stay when they see what we have," Zim said smugly.

Dib looked at him. "What did you give Gaz to wear?"

Zim paused for a moment. "Clothes."