NOTE: Don't worry. You'll get tired half way through and stop reading before the brain shriveling even starts.

I T ' S S N O W I N ' D O O K I E

Flakes of fecal matter were drifting down from the clouds in little, itty-bitty, delicate pieces. Children looked up and smiled, opening their mouths and sticking forth their tongues despite the rancid stench. They were stupid, you see. When what invaded their taste buds did not melt, did not taste of purity and angels, their faces twisted with sick, and they gagged. They gagged in horror.

For God's sake, you snotty beasts! It's eighty-three degrees out! It's safe to assume that the stuff you licked off the car roof wasn't snow!

"How did this come to be?" you might be asking.

Well, don't ask questions. Shut your filthy mouth.

As the townsfolk slowly came to their senses, expressions of wonder turned to panic. Then, for a short while, wonder again- but then more panic. People screamed. They ran in circles. They raided stores for canned corn and sold their stocks until the market imploded on its poor doomed self.

"Oh-! Ugh, Eewwr! The stink! The stiiiink; Auugh!"

One hysterical man collapsed in the street and started to convulse, mouth dribbling bubbles of foam.

Police officers were deployed from all over to investigate the horrible mass of raining defecation. The captain gave the order; if we don't get to the bottom of this now, uh, ohh, the whole town will fall victim some sort of smeary, stinky…poop death! And the pink eye! Think about all the pink eye! Stop it! Stop it nooooooow!

A heartfelt speech if you ever did hear one.

Still, it was the excess of O's in that last "now" that really got his forces pumped. They took off in their police cars as fast as their low-budget engines would allow, swerving around the chaos and all over the city, not once caring that they had no leads and no idea where they were driving. They just went.

In the beginning, there were, oh, say, eight crashes. With each other. Two more cars were pummeled by street lamps, one with a building, another with a mailbox, and one more with a bee. Still, that left an inexplicably large pack of squad cars rushing, finally, toward the city cesspool.

Herp.

Anyway, the city cesspool was a huge, swirling mass of human waste churning in a tub roughly the size of New Mexico. Normally, it was fairly well-managed. But today- today it had been transformed a massive cyclone of excrement. A big, brown, reeking tornado of fetid poop, if you will, piercing its way through thick black clouds and dropping deposits of itself everywhere. One cop turned on his windshield wipers, but that just- "Oh, my sweet banana cream pies!" -that just made it worse.

"It's EVERYWHERE! Everywhere! And I was only One. Day," he bashed his head against the steering wheel, "from retirement!"

Head bleeding and possibly concussed, the police officer flung himself through the passanger side window, shattering the glass, and tumbling to his death at sixty miles per hour. His car exploded.

Horror.

"ZIM!" Meanwhile, Dib was standing in the eye of the storm, repressing vomit. "I won't let you -blurrk- get away with –ughw, that stinks- this!"

Zim grinned menacingly. "Nonsense, Dib-waste! Zim has already gotten away with it!"

Dib's eyes were watering, but he braved the nastiness and glared at Zim with all the hate he could muster. Zim only grinned wider, nearly dislodging the clothing pin from where it pinched the nonexistent nose between his eyes. He was wearing some sort of neon pink hazard suit, which should have made the pin obsolete if the lack of nose didn't already, but Zim wasn't particularly, you know, smart.

Although, Dib wasn't winning any fashion contests either. His shirt and pants had gotten filth on them, so he'd taken them off to avoid contamination. He stood in boxers and a trench coat, both of which clung loosely to his overly thin, pasty little body. He had a shower cap over his hair and goggles over his glasses, plastic bags around his shoes. He just wished he'd had the foresight to remember the nose plugs when he learned of Zim's new plan. Not that he'd been given much time to prepare.

But actually, the longer he stood there, the less he could smell anything anyway. Huh. That was pretty nice.

"By now I'm sure the filth is raining down all over this pa-the-tic planet, and soon enough everyone will perish from the disgusting stench made by their own traitorous organ expulsions!" Zim burst into hysterical laughter, clawing the air and wheezing like a broken squeaky toy. It was honestly that funny.

"That's stupid! Humans don't die just from smell!"

"You lie!"

"And there's not enough waste here to coat the entire planet anyway! Maybe a town or two, but come on!"

"Silence, you ugly sack of meat… sack!" Zim launched forward, howling a war cry at the top of his lungs. Dib stumbled away, startled, arching his back when he reached the wall of the storm. He jumped out of the way at the last minute and rolled onto his hands and knees. Zim screeched in frustration, jumping at him again. This time, Dib yelped, unable to dodge. They started to wrestle like monkeys, scratching and biting and rolling and hitting.

Dib tore a big gash in the front of Zim's suit, letting in the stink. Zim nearly gagged up a lung.

For a split second, they almost toppled into the mess, but the matching expression of disgust on their faces had them simultaneously scrambling back. Dib stumbled over his own heel and fell on his back. His elbow hit something. Hard. Yowling in pain, he cradled his arm to his chest. Zim, to his left, gasped. That elbow had bashed open and through the door of Zim's brilliant machine. His creation. His hard work.

"No!" He fell to his knees at the base of it. He snatched up wires as they dropped out of the new opening, sparking and smoking. It was no use. The Dib had busted the control board. "NO! Noooooo! NOOOO!" For such an significant experiment, you would think he would have protected the motherboard with something stronger than glass as thin as a stick of Winterfresh.

So, just like that, the cyclone started to slow. It tilted off kilter. Its walls started falling, teetering, useless. In one uproarious splash, like a waterfall suddenly stripped of its source, the waste dropped back into the cesspool. Filth flung out all over. It went over the walls, it landed on Zim's suit, on the back of Dib's coat and head and feet.

"You," Zim snarled, claws shaking furiously. His eyes narrowed to murderous slits. "You-! YOU!"

Dib crawled backwards on his hands, trying to mask his growing nervousness. "I told you I'd defeat you, you reptilian scum! And I always will! That's just another victory for Earth!"

Zim's body was coiled like a deadly spring, ready to snap. Dib cringed and hoped against hope that Zim wouldn't go for the face. "You horrible-!"

"FREEZE!"

Their eyes bugged.

"Heh?"

Zim and Dib turned simultaneously to the hoard of police cars and officers down below, pointing guns up at them from every angle. Dib found that his mouth started moving without consent from his brain, which was still in shock. "Well," Dib mumbled, "this has never happened before."

"Don't move! Hands above your heads!"

"Which is it? Do you want us not to move, or to put our hands above our heads?"

"Um. Hm. Err-gosh, brain teasers. Neither, I guess. Both!"

Zim blinked in confusion. "Zim does not have time for- YIEP!" His body snapped back when a bullet came biting at his foot. The urge to retaliate with a doom-laser was strong, but… too many humans. He grimaced and growled, "You think that puny Earth weapon can damage me? I am ZIM! I've used more powerful weapons than that to pry open GIR's head!" He yelled, and it was probably true. Another shot. He put his hands over his head.

Dib laughed. "Finally. You're getting what you deserve, Zim! They've got you surrounded. First they'll arrest you, and then they'll figure out you're an alien, and then it's just a hop, skip, and a jump to that autopsy table. Maybe they'll throw me a parade-"

"Quiet, fiend! You have broken the law, and that is most bad! Most bad!"

Zim sneered at the human in blue who'd spoken; he was climbing up the metal stairs to their podium, followed by several others, looking thoroughly undeterred by the filth. Zim whistled and discreetly kicked his broken machine into the pool, where it sunk. Dib scowled. The cop pulled out his handcuffs, slipping momentarily on a wet spot. One guy behind him fell in a puddle. "You two are in big trouble!"

"Both of us?" Dib gaped. Zim made a pleased sound and stuck out his tongue.

"HAH! Victory for Zim."

"You're getting in trouble, too, moron!"

"Yeah, but…your head is big."

"My head is normal sized, okay? I measured!"

"Quiet!" The officer snapped the cuffs roughly around Zim's wrists, causing a grunt. When he looked up again, glancing at Dib, his face scrunched into something tight and confused. "Uh, hum." He scratched his head and turned to the others. "You guys have any extra cuffs?" The two cops shrugged. The first guy rubbed his face awkwardly, the other muttered something about giving them to his kid. "Hmm." He undid the set from Zim's wrist, to the aliens immense pleasure, but then snapped one side back on.

"Hey-what the-"

"Looks like you two'll have to share."

"What?"

"W-wait! This is wrong! I'm not a criminal; I was saving the world! ALIENS!"

"Fools! No frail pair of human cuffies can contain ZIIIM, the almighty and masterful genius of the universe!" The cop pressed a button and the metal handcuffs lit up with barely restrained electricity. Swords and knives danced out of secret compartments like it was a utility knife, hovering centimeters over their skin as though saying, 'Go on- I dare yah.' "Huh. I guess they can. I AM NORMAL!"

"Yeah, yeah, we can all see that."

Dib groaned.

"Now walk."

Walk, they did. As they descended the stairs, being careful not to slip on the dripping layer of liquidized feces, the news vans pulled up. Dib groaned louder. Cameras swarmed in, snapping pictures. Zim scowled, clawing and biting at the flashes. Dib merely tried to hide his face. The headlines started spinning in.

'Crazy Poop Boys Captured!' 'Hideous Dookie Mutants Spew Hate On Town!' 'POOP!' and the like.

"You boys are going away for a long time!"

Zim's eyes snapped open. "Exactly how long is a long time? I've got… things that need doing. Normal, human things. Like blinking! And, uh…chewing!"

"He's lying! He's an alien! Just look at the way he italicized the word, 'things'! He's up to something!"

"Silence, human!" Zim hissed.

"Space refuse!" Dib crowed in reply.

"Earthen maggot!"

Zim snapped his fist back in preparation to punch, but Dib flinched away, thus yanking Zim's wrist along with him. With a surprised sound, Zim punched himself right square in the face. Dib blinked, then grinned, doing it again and again and again. Zim growled, staggering. He took his hand and jumped behind Dib's back, yanking up both their wrists until the chain crossed Dib's throat. He pulled.

"Uck-! Kk-! Can't…breathe!"

The police officers looked baffled. It must have been really hard trying to shove them both into the squad car while they were trying to kill each other. As Dib gasped for air, hands scrambling at his neck, he picked up his foot and slammed his heel down hard. Zim howled, hopping up to cradle his poor, abused, superior foot. Dib used the distraction to make a grab for Zim's wig.

He never got it.

"Well, well," said a gravelly, bemused voice. Dib grunted, body dangling in midair. He and Zim were hovering off the ground by the chain of their handcuffs. "If it isn't my greatest opponent. The young trespasser."

The ridge over Zim's eyebrow jumped up. "Eh?"

"I'll be taking over from here, men! Police Chief Slab Rankle is on the case!"

AW snap.

The police gave salute. "Yes, Chief!"

Dib looked from Zim to Slab, suspicious. "You know him?"

Slab put his free hand to his chin, visible eye growing hazy with the memories. He started to walk, forcing his captives along with him toward a huge black police van. "This young man here bested my defenses and my fabulous zombie army back when I was still a mall security guard. Those were good times- great times! When life was easy and the mall was my mistress to protect. Of course," his tone darkened, "Those days are gone. I've since been fired for being 'too possessed by the job!' and 'eating up finances' on 'unnecessary lasers' and 'controversial corpse-reviving technology' and 'number two pencils'! Hah!" His fist trembled before his chest. "I was doing what needed to be done to protect that beautiful haven from defilement! But did they understand that? Huh? HUH? Well, did they?"

Zim looked highly taken aback. Slab was huffing in his face and demanding answers. "I'm gonna go with... yes?"

"NOO!" Slab snapped. "And since then, Slab has had to settle for Chief of Police."

Dib stared. Was this…Yeah, this guy was crazy.

"Ah, well. I knew it would only be a matter of time before I met you again, trespasser. I expected that I'd be given a second chance to thwart my nemesis! And you've acquired yourself a partner in crime! Twice the challenge! You've been taken in once more by that evil temptress… Transgression!" A rather hefty chunk of poop fell and settled on Slab's shoulder. He didn't seem to notice. "And it is I, Slab Rankle, that will have to cleanse you of its seductive hand!" He opened the back doors of the van and threw them inside until they bounced off the back wall.

"Eh," Zim pushed himself off the floor, shaking his head. "That's okay. Actually, I think I'm good now. Oh, yes indeed-y! Zim is tempted no more! He will do nothing but disgusting squeaky good from this day forth- Mmmhm!" He grinned innocently. "Can I go home now?"

"Hmm. No. Remember this, boys!" Slab grabbed the door handles. "We have rules for a reason! Without them, ohh, the idea…Dirty, terrible chaos…CHAOS!"

The doors slammed shut. They fell into darkness.

"Hey, human."

The engine started. "What is it, Zim?"

"…You smell bad."

Dib heaved a sigh, long and deep and full of much worldly resignation. "So do you, Zim. So do you."