Yeah Now posting of this fic is going to get VERY sparatic from here on out. Mainly because we don't have anymore of it written XD.
Soooo Arts and crafts...you know the more you read the more insane everyone else gets... Wow. XD AND STILL NO OC'S XD BUWHAHAHA XD I like it like that ^^ Written mostly by me with little clips from Chihuahuagirl88
Beta:Chihuahuagirl88
IZ (c) Jhonen Vasquez
Story (c) ME XD
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Chapter 2:
Plague of Narroweditis
Dib stared drowsily at the cafeteria table. His breakfast mush was untouched before him, not that he could even touch it if he wanted to. He was still in the straight jacket. He wasn't even sure what the mush was; it looked like shredded wheat a baby had puked up, then was trampled on by a dog, then chewed up by Ms. Bitters, then sent to the detention center and nuked in the microwave.
Little did he know, that was actually what it was.
"Umm... Could I get some help here?" Dib asked no one in particular. And, as to be expected, no one answered. He sighed and looked back at the...product.
"Hurry it up, Dib-stink." The increasingly familiar annoying voice. The same voice that had greeted him this morning paired with him being bodily rolled from the room like a barrel.
"What do you want, Zim?" Dib looked up scathingly at the ticked off Zim.
"Seeing as we're room mates now, I have to do all the STUPID juvie activities with you."
"Y-You're kidding, right?" Dib asked, disbelieving. Not only was he practically CHAINED to the freak, he now had to do 'personality strengthening' junk with him?
Zim glared at him. "Do I look like I'm kidding, fathead?"
"Well..." Dib looked away, glancing over at the very muscular and tattooed bullies comparing battle scars around him, then stared back at the tiny Zim. "Not really."
Zim grumbled and sat down next to Dib. "Hurry it up, breakfast is ending! Dump your tray already."
Dib looked at Zim disbelievingly. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" On second thought, how did he even get his tray to the table in the first place? It was...a MYSTERY.
"Figure it out!" Zim then proceeded to slam Dib's head into his tray before he letting out a maniacal laugh. Dib's eyes narrowed, despite the threat of narroweditis, as the mush dripped down from his glasses.
He was going to say something when a loud, high-pitched siren sounded through the cafeteria, announcing, "TIME FOR TELLI BYE-BYE-" The voice was interrupted by the sound of a whack, and a much deeper voice announced, "TIME FOR ARTS AND CRAFTS. REMEMBER THE MOTTO, BRATS."
Zim grumbled, looking back and forth between Dib and the trash can; finally, he gave up. "GAH! GIVE ME THAT!" Zim snatched Dib's tray and rushed it over to the trash, where he dumped it in the can and grabbed a handful of napkins. He came back to Dib and wiped the mush off his face. First he wiped off the left side, and after a moment's hesitation and an inner battle, he cleaned off the right. All the while mumbling threats to the 'Filthy Human'. Other detainees began to file into the cafeteria, and Zim quickly retreated to the other side of the bench, lest someone think he was friends with the new kid or something.
"Well HELLO kids~!" An insanely happy voice rang across the cafeteria, echoing with echoes of happy echoness. "I'm mister Dwicky, and I just LOVE teaching you kids the value of life! Today we're going to make houses out of popsicle sticks! WON'T THAT BE FABTABULOUS?!" Mr. Dwicky gestured at his large man of an assistant, who looked like an army drill sergeant- or like the guy who ate the army drill sergeant and spat him out. "My assistant Slab Rankle here will hand out a list of your materials! We'll go over them, and then hand them out! WON'T THAT BE FUUUUN?"
"List?" Dib muttered disbelievingly. "Why do we need a list?! You just said they would be made of POPSICLE sticks!"
"WELL IT LOOKS LIKE WE GOT OURSELVES A BACK TALKER!" the sergeant guy screamed in Dib's general direction, a vein bulging in his neck. Everyone in the room seemed to turn and stare at Dib, gasping on cue.
"What?" Dib asked confused about what the big deal was; all he had done was point out the obvious.
"You're the crazy guy, aren't you?" an insane looking boy with an orange puff of hair on his head asked in a creepy, wispery voice.
"What? No, I'm-"
"Yes he is!" Zim interrupted at his chance, throwing his arms in the air. "Oh so crazy is he!"
"Hey-" Dib was interrupted by the rest of the group ooo'ing at him.
The sergeant was not impressed, however, and the vein bulged to the point of no return. "BEING INSANE IS NOT AN EXCUSE! DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY FIVE!" Mr. Dwicky used his clipboard to shield himself from the spit flying from the sergeant's screaming orifice.
"What?! Are you crazy, how am I supposed to do push-ups in this jacket-?!" Dib started to protest against the obviously insane man, but to no avail.
"I SAID DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY FIVE!" the large man threw back a hand to smack Dib to the ground but Mr. Dwicky stopped him.
"Now now, Fido. You were crazy once, too. Try to have pity on poor little...eh...scythe head, okay? Now hand out the lists."
"My name is Dib," Dib mumbled almost pitifully, but he was pretty much ignored as Dwicky and Slab continued on with their paper-passing-out routine.
"So your name's Dib, huh?" the same weird looking puff haired kid from earlier whispered to him. "Nice to meet you, I'm Keef." He held out his hand waiting for Dib to shake it. Keef's wide smile slowly began to diminish in size as he waited for a hand shake; but he only received Dib's disbelieving stare. "Ooohkay... I guess you're the kind who doesn't like to touch, huh?"
Dib stared more, waiting to see if this kid could actually figure out that he was in a straight jacket and couldn't shake his hand even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. "I'm cool with that though." Keef smiled, leaning over closer to Dib; his smiled slightly disturbing to look at.
"BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!" Slab screeched at Dib and Keef. "IT APPEARS THE NEW KID IS A ROMEO TYPE! HUH?! ARE YA PUNK!? WELL...ARE YOOOOU?!" Dib was blown back and almost throw off of his chair by the force of Slab's screaming. "YOU DISGUST ME! DROP AND GIVE ME SEVENTY-FIVE!"
"But I thought I was supposed to give you fifty-five." Dib decided that clearly, Slab was nuts.
"THEN DROP AND GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED THIRTY, PLUS SIXTY MORE FOR MOUTHING OFF!"
"If you haven't noticed I'm kind of stuck in a straight JACKET!" Dib shouted his voice escalating as he spoke.
"OH, A WISE GUY TOO HUH?! ZIM, HELP YOUR CRAZY LITTLE PARTNER GIVE ME TWO HUNDRED PUSH UPS AND FIFTY SIT UPS!"
"WHAT!" Zim looked pissed off. "HE'S NOT MY PARTNER!"
Mr. Dwicky gave Zim his infamous LOOK. "Now Zim, you know Slab doesn't mean your sexual partner. He meant, well, lab partners." The man obviously thought Zim was gay.
Zim growled but didn't move. "And if I refuse to do his work for him?"
Slab then turned his attentions to Zim. "YOU INSOLENT LITTLE TATER TOT! DO YOU WANT US TO TAKE AWAY GIR?! WELL, DO YA?!"
Zim's eyes snapped open and though he tried to he failed at hiding his fear. Within minutes he was on the floor on his knees doing push ups.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Slab smirked as he finally finished handing out the papers. Mr. Dwicky sighed; he almost pitied Zim. Almost.
"Now first of all, Slab and I are going to show you how each of these materials can be used as weapons. Then we will go over how we shouldn't use them as such. Any questions?" Mr. Dwicky grinned, not expecting any.
Dib stared at Mr. Dwicky. He was surrounded by insane people instead of idiots this time. Sadly, he wasn't sure which was worse.
"No? Good now on too-"Mr. Dwicky began but was interrupted by Slab who had returned to screaming at Zim.
"YOU CALL THOSE PUSH-UPS MAGGOT I OTTA THROW THAT DUMB ANIMAL IN THE SHREDDER FOR SUCH A DISGRACEFUL PERFORMANCE!"
Zim almost gave a sob as he increased his push-upping speed. Gir was his best friend in this place, and he couldn't let them confiscate his technology. Dib noticed this and couldn't help but wonder why the kid liked his weird stuffed dog so much.
Maybe Zim was crazy, too. Either way Dib figured he should help the poor guy. "Mr. Dwicky, I need Zim to do my project."
"Oh alright." Dwicky nodded in mock understanding. "Slab ease up on the boy, he needs to finish his project, and all the exercising is really interrupting the class." Dwicky whispered the last bit.
"OH FINE. YOU KNOW MR. DWICKY, IT'S PENCIL PUSHERS LIKE YOU THAT REALLY TICK ME OFF." Slab grumbled a bit more in protest as Zim got up off the floor, sitting back down at their table. Dib smiled at him, but the green boy glared and looked away.
"I didn't need your help, razor head," Zim sniffed.
Dib's eyes narrowed again. When would the narroweditis end? "Excuse me for helping." Dib grumbled.
This was the straw that broke the green boy's back. "HELPING! IT"S YOUR FAULT GIR WAS ALMOST SHREADDED! AND NOW YOU THINK I'M GOING TO THANK YOU!?"
"DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO YELL?! I WAS TRYING TO HELP YOU! IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT PSYCHO WANTED TO SHRED GIR! THAT THING IS UGLY ANYWAY!" Dib snarled back.
Zim shook with pent up rage. "OH YEAH WELL... YOU'RE UGLYERIST!"
"THAT'S NOT EVEN A WORD! I BET GIR IS GREEN BECAUSE HE'S CRUSTY AND SNOT COVERED!"
"Boys, boys!" Mr. Dwicky interrupted them, pulling Dib away from Zim's side of the table.
Everyone around the quarreling two had frozen and fell silent. But Dib didn't care. This Zim! He just couldn't stand him. "WHY DON'T YOU TAKE YOUR UGLY RAG AND GO BACK TO WHAT EVER PLANET YOU CAME FROM, FREAK!" Dib screeched.
"What did you say about Gir?" Zim asked quietly, completely missing the other insult directed at himself. Dib was taken aback by the look on Zim's face, but he refused to back down to some insane green bean.
Gnashing his teeth together Dib glared at Zim, still in Mr, Dwicky's grasp. "I Said Gir's an ugly little rag with stuffing and should be thrown away to never be seen again! I'm surprised I haven't yet! I just might do so; I need a bed after all."
"YOU RAT ASS BASTARD!" Zim gave a shriek rivaling one of Slab's as he lunged across the table, tackling Dib and grabbing him by his throat, squeezing tightly. "TAKE IT BACK!"
Dib choked; all the air was knocked out of him and Zim's crushing, three-fingered hand didn't help any at getting it back. "N-No!" Dib managed, and he spat in Zim's face.
Zim let out a fresh screech and rolled off Dib. He rolled around on the floor screaming in pain, and didn't stop even when Slab picked him up and shook him.
"ZIM! STOP SCREAMING THIS INSTANT!"
But Zim didn't stop. Slab persisted in shaking him until a normal person would throw up, but Zim kept screeching and tried to wipe his face off. "IT WON'T COME OFF!" Zim hollered more in horror then in pain now. The more he tried to get the spit off, the more he wiped it all over his face.
Mr. Dwicky sighed. This had happened before, so he knew what to do. He crumbled up one of his lists and walked over to the two. "Stop shaking him, Slab, before ya make him puke." Using the list, he wiped Zim's face dry.
Zim finally stopped blubbering and Slab put him back down. "Well, if everyone's DONE." He glared at the two, Dib especially. "I'd like to get on with today's activities." Zim and Dib were returned to their seats, their glares never falling.
Mr. Dwicky got on with the explanations. "So, if you bend the stick like this blahblahblah..." Dib wasn't really listening, he was mostly in a glaring contest with Zim.
Dib's attention was finally grasped by something other then Zim when a low whistling sound was heard. Dib looked up just to see Dwicky duck an incoming popsicle stick.
"Oh very funny Keef. Now as I was saying, if you do this then-" Five more popsicle sticks whizzed towards the councilor, and he just barely dodged them.
"Okay, hilarious! Now seriously, get to work making your houses." Mr. Dwicky crossed his arms and pouted. Slab rolled his eyes and passed out more sticks. Dib stared at his pile, and Zim smirked.
"Dib, your house is looking a little flat..."
Dib glared at Zim. "Shut up." Like his 'house' was all that special. It was just popsicle sticks after all, right? Dib looked up from the pile of sticks in front of him to see Zim almost finished with a miniature crooked green house.
"Oh, great job Zim," Mr . Dwicky cheered. "It looks just like your house."
Zim smiled proudly. "Yes, yes, I am well aware that ZIM is superior to the rest of you Earth stink. Here, Dib, let me help you with your house."
Mr. Dwicky smiled. 'What a nice boy,' he thought.
Zim reached over and grabbed a popsicle stick; and, slathering it with glue, he slapped it against Dib's forehead with a grin.
Dib's eyes flew wide open. "What was that for?!"
"There! Now Zim has helped." Zim grinned before returning to his 'house'.
Dib grumbled, going cross-eyed as he stared at the offending stick. He didn't notice Zim was beginning to twitch across the table.
'One...stick... An odd number... No! MUST FIX!' Zim thought.
As Dib tried to ignore the stick (seeing as he couldn't get it off anyway), Zim couldn't take his eyes off of it. 'Why must all my plans backfire?!' He screamed in his head, reaching up slowly towards the stick, trying not to arouse suspicions.
"What are you doing?" Dib had noticed.
"Nothing," Zim said quickly, slamming his hand down and grabbing one of Dib's sticks, adding it to his house for no reason. He continued to stare at Dib's head out of the corner of his eye. 'I'll get another one on, just you wait stink boy.'
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