Disclaimer: IZ and Alice in Wonderland do not belong to me.

Training Day started out at five o'clock AM. Dib was snoozing along in the little bed they had given him during his stay here. Well, little to an adult. It fit the ten year old kid just perfectly. So soundly he slept, he didn't hear the sound of the door slowly creaking open; nor did he hear soft footsteps treading across his stone floor. He did hear the trumpet blasting not a meter away from his head, though.

"AH!" Shocked, Dib fell from the bed. A familiar, maniacal laughter filled the air. He huffed, "Zim, that was SO not cool!"

"Hehehehehe..." Zim was still recovering from his fit of laughter. When he finally righted himself, he still had the laughter in his eyes, "Oh, sorry Dib, but that was priceless!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dib mumbled, embarrassed, "What did you want? Your morning chuckle? You got it, so go away."

Zim shook his head, "Nah, the queen told me to wake you up. Something about training," This made Dib's eyes bolt open. Shoot! He was late! Panicking, he ran through the room at sickening speeds, grabbing his clothes. He then turned to Zim.

"Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," Zim smiled stupidly, but his eyes still held that flicker of amusement. Dib rolled his eyes and pushed Zim out of his room so he could get dressed. Zim snickered behind the door. Boy, was Dib in for a surprise...

Several minutes of swearing at Zim, yelling at stone walls, and asking random people for directions, Dib finally made it to the courtyard where her grace, the White Queen, was waiting for him. She stood there, in all her white queen glory, with a smile planted on her face. Zim took the moment to walk out the way they came in, muttering something under his breath that Dib couldn't catch. Probably because it was in Irken.

"Dib! Oh Hero of Underland, are you prepared for a day of training, so you can face your destiny without the fear of dying?" Despite the seriousness of her words, the Queen held a semi-amused smile. Almost as if his imminent death was funny...

Never mind that, though. Dib nodded, "I guess..."

"That's the spirit!" She grinned with excitement. Nearby, a large stone door groaned as it was forced open. The Queen turned to it, the door itself hiding whoever opened it, "Oh! That must be your trainer now. I'll leave you boys be," The White Queen walked out the nearby door, not even looking back. Dib, sure this was someone important to Underland -who else would the Queen have train him?- bowed.

"It's an honor," He stated, head still down, "to meet you, sir," He heard the sound of footsteps, and then an all too familiar chuckle. Dib's eyes widened, along with a gasp.

In front of him, Zim had a satisfied look on his face, "I've always dreamed of this moment. Not quite the circumstance I would have hoped for, but it'll do."

"ZIM?" Dib looked up at the alien, "What are you doing here?"

"Her majesty asked me to train you personally," Zim responded with a dutiful tone, "And from what I've seen, you need it. Badly," Dib didn't have the time to protest. Zim had grabbed him by the arm and thrown him to the grown with strength that should've been impossible, "Now, give me ten push-ups, soldier!"

The cruel, emotionless voice of a military drill sergeant Zim had was what got Dib moving. He jumped, then began pushing himself off the ground desperately, barely being able to push himself up. His trainer scowled in displeasure at the sight.

"You call that a push-up? On Irk, we call that weak! You wouldn't last a day at the academy!" The Irken snapped at the human relentlessly. Maybe he was taking this a little too seriously...

Dib mumbled under his breath, "If they're all like you, I won't!" Once again, Dib had failed to take into account the super sensitivity of Irken lekku. The words were picked up almost immediately, and Dib found himself pressed to the ground with a boot on the small of his back. Zim, frustrated, ground the sole of his boot into Dib's back some more, hoping to get through.

He leaned over and whispered, "They weren't like me... they were MUCH worse."

The human wasn't sure whether to feel pity for Zim or dread for himself...

If anyone whom had ever trained with the Irkens -including some Irkens- were asked, they would tell you that 'training' is a synonym of 'torture'. Dib had become one of these people in less than five hours. As it turns out, where Zim failed in charisma and diplomacy, he more than made up for with threats and 'negative reinforcement'. Dib dared not say no to the Irken assigned the task of training him. Since they started, he had been forced to run the perimeter of the castle, do multiple push-ups and sit-ups, train with weights, and run in front of a group of angry cows, though Dib was suspicious that the last one was just Zim making his own entertainment.

Finally, though, they arrived at a ring set up with mats. Training swords -made of plastic- were lying against the wall. Two fencing suits laid on the bleachers. Dib 'oohed', having been waiting for this since their escape from the Red Queen's palace.

One of the two protective coverings was thrown at him, "Suit up, Dib. We have to fit this in before the end of the session," Zim slipped into his with relative ease, and then sighed and helped Dib when the human boy ended up putting it on wrong. Twice. Once that was done and over with, he picked up one of the plastic swords and twirled it expertly in his grip.

Gaping at first, Dib found his voice after a moment of seeing Zim twirl his sword so expertly, "H-how are you-?"

"The Irken's PAK has a multitude of combat preprogrammed. Swordsmanship is amongst one of the basics refined at the Irken academy," Zim sighed, nostalgic, "Good times, good times... where were we?"

"Fencing," Dib slapped his forehead with his left hand. In his right was a plastic sword, gripped tightly within his palm. That was the first thing Zim corrected.

He moved forward and adjusted Dib's hand, arm, and posture as he spoke and acted, "Don't grip your sword so tightly. Being too tense is never a good idea. Restricts your reflexes. Now, you have to think of the sword as an extension of yourself."

"Like, what, a second head?" Dib asked, staring at the plastic weapon.

Zim shook his head, "Nah, more like an extra long, really sharp arm," He showed Dib a few moves, such as the slash, thrust, parry, and block. When he felt Dib had gotten them all well enough to continue, he picked up another sword.

The alien waved the sword around expertly, "Alright, Diblet, now show me what you've learned!"

With a gulp, Dib charged at Zim, thrusting the sword towards him. When Zim blocked, he spun and brought his sword down on the alien, only to have it parried. Before he could recover, Zim landed a thrust at his hand, prying it open and causing him to drop the sword. Immediately afterwords, Zim kicked him and he landed on his back. Hard. At least the mat's were soft.

"Not bad," Zim acknowledged, "You'll need a lot more refining, though," He looked at a little watch on his wrist, which made Dib wonder: where had he gotten a watch? "Oh, look, training's over. Let's get some dinner," He walked passed Dib, stopping next to the fallen hero, and whispered into his ear, "But do not worry; we get to do this ALL again tomorrow."

Dib groaned and plopped on the floor as Zim left, snickering.

I dunno why, but I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Now I'm gonna go watch the newest episode of the Penguins of Madagascar. Adios.