"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gymble in the wabe

All mimsy were the borogroves

And the mome raths outgrabe

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son

The jaws that bite and claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!

He took his vorpal sword in hand

Long time the manxome foe he sought

And rested he by the Tumtum tree

And stood awhile in thought

And as in uffish thought he stood

The Jabberwock with eyes of flame

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood

And burbled as it came!

One two, one two, and through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead and with its head

He went galumphing back

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

Oh frabjous day, callooh callay!'

He chortled in his joy

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gymble in the wabe

All mimsy were the borogroves

And the mome raths outgrabe"

Bright amber eyes shone in the dim light, wide and alert as they drank in every line of the familiar text. An eager, curious and inquisitive seven year old, he loved the mysteries such words created in his mind. He loved hearing the poem… every single night.

"Dad, can you read it again?"

The looming figure of the man who had raised him shook his head, ruffling the young boy's black cowlick in the way that made him squeal in protest.

"No, son. I've much to do now. We'll read it again tomorrow night, okay?" He crossed the room to the door, only to be stopped by a piercing golden gaze (the soul-burning stare of a child!).

"What if the monster wins next time, Dad?"

A laugh came from the man, slightly too loud and braying.

"Don't be daft, son. The good guy will win again, he always does."

The boy thought hard about this, his little mind whirring like a piston behind ponderous eyes.

"Why does the good guy always win, Dad? How come he never gets eaten? And why is he fighting the monster, Dad?"

The figure was halted at the door by the onslaught of questions. Turning his head to his young son, he considered this.

"Because monsters are evil and mean son. They're murderous creatures; think of the red eyes that stare, the green claws that scratch and grab! And the dripping jaws, hungry for the taste of you!"

Behind the safety of thick goggles, his eyes darkened, and behind the protection of a high collar, his voice took on a lower, more intense octave.

"You remember that son. I never want you to meet a monster."

With that the door clicked quietly shut, enveloping a nervous, wide-eyed boy in darkness.


***DISCLAIMER*** The poem "Jabberwocky" belongs to Lewis Caroll. I do not claim ownership to it.

...I made a teaser :D

Of course no one knows what I'm talking about XD well I had another idea for a ZADF fanfic (yes, no possible ZADR this time but you'll understand why) and... well, I have no idea when I'll end up publishing it. You'll have to nag me to get onto it *sits down with arms folded*
Yes, I know I'm supposed to be working on IatP. I'm refusing to give up on it, don't you worry, but I keep hitting this annoying block, which is worrying me. I may end up needing help with that story.

ANYWAY! The story I have in mind is set in a different context from the show; Dib is seven years old, there's no Gaz, and well, what happens to Zim is a secret. I'm not going to say anything more than that. I guess it would have been more in context to make Dib the father, but that would mean making it an FC fic and there's no way I was going to do that :/

This story'll probably get kind of dark.