I finally decided just to rewrite this chapter, so, here ya go. It's a pairng that always seemed obvious to me, but which is rarely seen, so here's my attempt. Anyway, I've been wasting too much time writing lately, so I'm (theoretically) off to take a little break and do something significant to the world. Until later, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!


"Excuse me, Zin?"

The young Irken smeet jumped in his seat, looking around the room. At the head of the class, the Instruction Drone continued to...well, drone annoyingly, sending most of the smeets as close to sleep as their PAKs' power cells would allow.

Zim found the speaker sitting one row to his left and one seat back. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Do you have a spare pen?" Tenn asked, holding up the metal magnetic stylus she had been using to write on her viewscreen. The tip was broken.

"Er, um---yes, here," Zim said quickly, shoving it into her hand. "And, uh---" She turned back around, cocking one reddish eye. "It's Zim, actually."

"Oh. Sorry," she said, and bent down over her desk, antennae cocked up to hear the Drone's droning.

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"Excuse me, Zip?"

He looked up, startled, and turned to the female standing behin him in line. "Could you please reach that thing of nachos for me?" she asked, pointing. She was, at least for now, one of the few other smeets at the facility shorter than he was.

"Um, yes, of course," he said, reaching over to take it and place it on her tray. "And, uh, it's Zim, by the way."

"Oh. Sorry," she said, before taking her tray and leaving to sit with Zee and El.

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"Excuse me, Zir? Could you hand me that plasma reactor?"

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"Excuse me, Zam? Do you know the answer to this question?"

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"Excuse me, Zig? I'm looking for Skoodge, have you seen him?"

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"Excuse me, Zop?"

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"Excuse me, Zor?"

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"Excuse me, Zit?"

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"Excuse me, Zog?"

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"Excuse me, Ezekiel?"

He sighed. "It's Zim," he said dully, passing her the viewscreen she wanted without another word.

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"Give that back to me! PLEASE! I need it!"

"Ha!"

Red held Zim's PAK up over his head, out of Zim's reach, then tossed it over the shorter Irken's head to be caught by his friend Purple. The other smeets standing around shrieked with laughter and Zim ran over to him, only to have it sail over his head back to Red again, then back to Purple, as Zim could feel the life-clock on his arm ticking down the seconds before his brain would start to malfunction.

"PLEASE, guys! I really need that!"

Purple was about to throw it again, then suddenly stopped, face falling into a frown. "What, Zim? You need this?" he asked, holding up the PAK.

"YES!" How could he not realize that?! Sometimes Zim thought those two could be rather dense, the way they seemed to not realize Zim needed things like PAKs, food or air, and seemed to go out of their way to do things to deprive him of these things.

Purple looked over at Red. "What do you say, Red? Should we give it back to him?"

"Well..." Red rubbed his chin, looking over at Zim's pleading face. "Alright."

"Yeah. Okay, Zim, come over here and I'll put this back on you."

"YES!"

Zim ran over to stand in front of Purple, and felt as he placed the PAK back onto Zim's back, allowing its chords to snake into him and reconnect with his spine. Zim let out a sigh of relief as he felt the wires slither throughout his body, integrate into his systems; he felt his brain begin to work at full power again as his life-clock vanished from his arm.

Purple hesitated for a moment, hands still on the PAK. Then, suddenly, they shot down, grabbed Zim's pants, and the little Irken suddenly found himself lurched into the air, struggling to escape as an excruciating wedgie sent pain through his body.

"Agh!"

The entire crowd of Irkens laughed, and Zim felt tears of embarrassment and rage built up in his eyes. "Let me down from here! Let go of me!"

"Make me!" Purple said, merely lurching him higher into the air.

"Agh!" Zim grit his teeth. "When I'm the Tallest, you two'll be sorry!"

"Wen I'm da Dallest, doo doo'll de sowwy," Red mocked, making crying motions on his eyes, and the laughter increased as Zim struggled helplessly.

"Hey! Leave Zim alone!"

Everybody turned. One little Irken female had stepped out of the crowd, red eyes narrow, claws on her hips, staring up at the two taller Irkens and their tiny captive.

Purple scoffed, which shook Zim slightly. "Why?"

"Yeah," Red said, crossing his arms. "Who's gonna make us?"

"I am!" Tenn snapped, and the two drew back slightly; the short, usually sweet little smeet had an oddly dangerous tone in her voice. "I said, let Zim go now."

The two friends looked at each other, considering. Then Purple made a face and dropped Zim to the ground, where he landed, face-first, with a loud and unpleasant CRACK.

"Pffft. Whatever. That was getting boring anyway."

"Yeah. Let's get out of here," Red muttered, walking away.

The rest of the crowd dispersed, and Tenn, turning up her noseless face, turned to storm angrily away. After a moment Zim was left lying on the ground alone, the scene from moments ago playing in his mind.

Leave Zim alone! Let Zim go now!

She knows my name, Zim thought, wild euphoria spreading through his broken and bruised form. He lay there in ecstacy for a moment, absorbing the thought.

Hee-hee.

"I AM ZIM!" he screamed to the floor, pumping one fist triumphantly into the air. A moment later it fell back to the ground as he passed out in a mixture of joy and pain.