I am back again, doing another massive update of all of my stories. I am
not dead; quite the contrary, in fact. Alright, so I'm lying. I am half
dead, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing!! Mighty ozone, you
thought I'd abandoned this site, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU!??! Don't you lie
to meeee!!! Ahem.anyway. I'm listening to System of a Down right now.
Yes I am. I somehow doubt you care. Actually, "Streamlines" by System of
a Down would be a good song to listen to while reading this chapter. On
with the story, you say? I've been waiting too damn long for the next
chapter, you say? I've almost given up on you, you say? Well, wait no
longer! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the sixth chapter of "Agent
Mothman"!
But first - I thank the reviewers, as always. You guys have been so nice. Thank you for waiting so long to read yet another installment of my filth.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, with the exception of a certain suicidal old man named Sid. Who saw that one coming?
~
CHAPTER SIX: Death, Flames, and Correct Prophecies
Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. TUESDAY. The word echoed over and over in Dib's oversized skull. Today. Today. TODAY. There would be a hideous explosion in the cafeteria today, and Dib had to do something to prevent it. This was unlikely, however - he knew he probably wouldn't be able to prevent something from happening when he didn't even know how it was supposed to happen, especially with so little time to work out the mystery. He'd have to rely on warning people. Or he'd find away to keep everyone from going to the cafeteria. And who were the other fourteen, anyway?
Dib pulled on his wonderful trench coat of almighty power (and it is magical.oh yes, but that's another story) and trudged downstairs to get some breakfast. After all, those horrible Frankenchokey things he ingested in the morning were considered "brain food," and even though he was genius already, he'd need all the help he could get.
He found Gaz at the table, eating some curiously non-burned toast. She was paying little attention to it, though, and more to the images on her GameSlave, but nothing else was new.
"Morning," he said lazily, for lack of anything else to say.
"Mm," replied Gaz. There was a long pause before she added, "I'm number fourteen."
Dib dropped the bowl of cereal he was planning to consume. "What?"
"I'm number fourteen," she repeated, giving him an angry "can't you comprehend anything?" type of stare.
Dib's brain almost broke into a thousand little pieces. "How could you know about that? Did Indrid tell you? Why do you even care? I never thought you'd care! Do you know what's supposed to happen? Has he been talking to you too? Have you had the visions, the nightmares?! HAVE YOU EVER DECORATED THE SAME MANATEE TWICE???!!!"
Gaz took a bite of toast and held up her left hand to silence Dib. "This 'Indrid' guy called again last night on the only remaining functional phone after you went to sleep. Stupid sleep. Anyway, he said I was number fourteen, there was a fizzling sound, and the phone exploded." At this point, Gaz looked away and pointed to the blackened mass of wires and plastic parts that now lay on the ground seven feet from where she sat eating breakfast.
Dib stared at it. "Do you know what that means?"
Gaz shrugged. "Only that I'm supposed to die." "That's not the first assumption anyone else would make."
"I know. But death is neat."
"You're so emotionless about it!"
"What's it to you?"
The two stared angrily at each other for a long time. Finally, Dib broke the sacred silence. "Indrid told me that the cafeteria is going to explode today."
"Neat."
Dib sighed and continued. "He told me that I was number fifteen. It didn't take me long before I figured out that I am supposed to be the fifteenth soul to die today in the accident, for he has also said that fifteen total corpses are to be carried away."
"I like corpses."
Dib sighed yet again. Why did his sister have to desensitize herself from the world the way she had? Couldn't she see that she was in imminent danger? "My point is that if he said you're number fourteen, then you are going to die just before I do. If you want to live, stay away from the cafeteria."
Gaz didn't respond. It was time to leave anyway. She was smart enough to fend for herself. Dib left the Membrane household and went on his own way.
~
Sid looked at his bloody form in the mirror. He hated his appearance. So gray, so frazzled, so ancient, so unbearably ugly. It didn't help that he had two large, unnatural objects protruding from his midriff of crusted blood. As he continued staring hatefully at himself, he realized that he had never really left teen angst mode upon leaving high school. It was a trait that had remained with him for all of his life.
Why did he have to be like that? The world didn't understand him, it never had! He was ugly, and his odor was unpleasant! Oh, most unpleasant! He reeked of sweat, blood, and dead skin, which was currently peeling away from his scalp.
He'd tried codeine for the pain. That had helped physically, yes, but now he wanted some Prozac to help his mental wounds. And he was horribly mentally wounded. He hated himself, he hated everything that frightened him in this world. Which was everything. The clouds wanted to steal his soul, and he was pretty sure that the mimes in the park had drunk his blood before. He shuddered at the memory.
Cheddar. Sid also discovered that he smelled like cheddar in places that he refused to discuss with himself.
He'd kill himself this time - that was for sure! Heh. He'd show himself! Hah! Laughing deliriously, Sid found a flyswatter in the kitchen, and lightly tapped himself on the forehead. He reeled backward as though he'd been struck full on in the face with a cinder block. Falling to the linoleum with a heavy thud, his brain shut itself off and he finally died.
Twelve naked horsemen in Great Britain exchanged nosehairs in celebration.
~
It was lunchtime. This time Dib knew for sure that something horrible was about to happen. People were moving about jerkily, as though being controlled by some higher force. The air was thick with infuriating anticipation of many funerals to come. The lunch ladies even seemed more robotic than usual. (Dib had made theories earlier about some kind of government plan to build prisons for the human filth of this skool, and had constructed lunch ladies to aid in this attack.)
Everything was normal, otherwise. Everyone thankfully accepted the gross items that they assumed were food. Dib didn't accept any such thing, however. He climbed onto an empty table in the middle of the room, stood up, waved his arms, and shouted a warning.
"I NEED YOUR ATTENTION!!! THIS ROOM COULD BURST INTO FLAMES AT ANY MOMENT AND YOU ALL NEED TO GET OUT! FIFTEEN OF US WILL DIE IF YOU DON'T!!! GET OUT NOW!!"
Everyone's eyes met Dib's blankly. He was afraid of this. He should have thought of a way to keep them from coming here in the first place. But not everything could be lost - it never turned out this way. The hero was supposed to save everyone, no more problems, no lives lost, end of story. Luck would have to favor Dib. But would it?
Gaz, seated where she was, was able to look past her screaming brother into the realms of the cafeteria, behind the food counter. She saw something flicker. A spark of something. Her eyes widened slightly. Dib hadn't been full of crap, after all. She should have known better, anyway - she'd also gotten strange messages from this "Indrid Cold," and things had generally been odd lately.
She stretched her right arm onto the table and swung it to the side, thus purposely knocking her tray onto the floor. Standing up and glaring silently, she exited the room of doom (soon to be a tomb) and began her journey to a random room on the other side of the school, far, far away from the aforementioned room of doom. And it was such a room of doom. DOOM!! Gaz smiled to herself. She'd just let them all die. They had, after all, only been people. Hideous, horrible people.
Meanwhile, no one had removed their eyes from Dib as he continued to shout commands and Indrid's prophecies at them in vain. Dib didn't notice what Gaz had. Which wasn't good.
There was a fizzling sound, and then finally Dib turned around, looking wildly over the food counter.
Flames. Coming. Fast. Must leave. Can't help the others. Get out. Now. Or die.
Dib yelled in surprise. He wasn't heard over the sound of the explosion and everyone else's screams. He dove off to the side as quickly as humanly possible, flung himself around a corner, dodged a child who was flying through the air, and hurled himself out of the door, along with a few lucky others.
~
Hours later found the flames dying down at long last. The firefighters finished the job and left promptly, for it was getting late and they didn't want to miss the all-new episode of "Ed," which was a television show they found to be most admirable.
Dib and Gaz stood together, looking at the wreckage, Dib in defeated horror, Gaz in amusement. About two-thirds of the other kids had managed to escape somehow. Zim was among them. He stood in the corner of the playground, where all of the survivors had been herded, smirking at his human enemy. Dib didn't pay any mind, however. This was still too shocking. As usual, he hadn't been able to save the world.
Oh well. He couldn't win.
The "rescue workers" were pitiful. The whole rescue team consisted of mimes, plumbers, angry sumo wrestlers, bitter hot dog vendors, and the overzealous President of the Hair Club for Men.
Dib tried to flag one of them down. "Hey, you there --" he said to an errant plumber.
The plumber didn't acknowledge Dib's presence.
"Hey, you! Hello!!? Talk to me!!" Exasperated enough to last a lifetime, Dib used a magical trout that appeared out of nowhere to beat the ignorant plumber upside the head. "Now, tell me how many people died in there!"
"You have my total attention now," replied the plumber, eyeing the trout nervously. "Um. I think about thirteen people died in there. Two of them were lunch ladies. Yep. I don't like peppermints."
"What caused the explosion?"
"Erm.one o' them lunch hags farted too near a gas stove.um.yerp."
Dib nodded in recognition. "I told you," he muttered to Gaz.
Gaz smiled darkly.
~
In an empty garage somewhere, GIR and Indrid Cold were practicing a dance routine to a mysterious song known as "Half Light."
~
Every time a skool cafeteria explodes, an angel gets its wings.
THE END
~
This isn't really the end, as I still have to post that "Half Light" music video thingy with GIR and Indrid Cold as the seventh chapter yet. So keep on the lookout. I plan on posting that on December fifteenth, to commemorate the collapse of the Silver Bridge. For those of you who don't know, the Silver Bridge collapse is what the Mothman and Indrid Cold were omens of in real life. It collapsed on December 15, thus my reasoning of when to post the "Half Light" thing. Forty-some people lost their lives.
But first - I thank the reviewers, as always. You guys have been so nice. Thank you for waiting so long to read yet another installment of my filth.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, with the exception of a certain suicidal old man named Sid. Who saw that one coming?
~
CHAPTER SIX: Death, Flames, and Correct Prophecies
Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. TUESDAY. The word echoed over and over in Dib's oversized skull. Today. Today. TODAY. There would be a hideous explosion in the cafeteria today, and Dib had to do something to prevent it. This was unlikely, however - he knew he probably wouldn't be able to prevent something from happening when he didn't even know how it was supposed to happen, especially with so little time to work out the mystery. He'd have to rely on warning people. Or he'd find away to keep everyone from going to the cafeteria. And who were the other fourteen, anyway?
Dib pulled on his wonderful trench coat of almighty power (and it is magical.oh yes, but that's another story) and trudged downstairs to get some breakfast. After all, those horrible Frankenchokey things he ingested in the morning were considered "brain food," and even though he was genius already, he'd need all the help he could get.
He found Gaz at the table, eating some curiously non-burned toast. She was paying little attention to it, though, and more to the images on her GameSlave, but nothing else was new.
"Morning," he said lazily, for lack of anything else to say.
"Mm," replied Gaz. There was a long pause before she added, "I'm number fourteen."
Dib dropped the bowl of cereal he was planning to consume. "What?"
"I'm number fourteen," she repeated, giving him an angry "can't you comprehend anything?" type of stare.
Dib's brain almost broke into a thousand little pieces. "How could you know about that? Did Indrid tell you? Why do you even care? I never thought you'd care! Do you know what's supposed to happen? Has he been talking to you too? Have you had the visions, the nightmares?! HAVE YOU EVER DECORATED THE SAME MANATEE TWICE???!!!"
Gaz took a bite of toast and held up her left hand to silence Dib. "This 'Indrid' guy called again last night on the only remaining functional phone after you went to sleep. Stupid sleep. Anyway, he said I was number fourteen, there was a fizzling sound, and the phone exploded." At this point, Gaz looked away and pointed to the blackened mass of wires and plastic parts that now lay on the ground seven feet from where she sat eating breakfast.
Dib stared at it. "Do you know what that means?"
Gaz shrugged. "Only that I'm supposed to die." "That's not the first assumption anyone else would make."
"I know. But death is neat."
"You're so emotionless about it!"
"What's it to you?"
The two stared angrily at each other for a long time. Finally, Dib broke the sacred silence. "Indrid told me that the cafeteria is going to explode today."
"Neat."
Dib sighed and continued. "He told me that I was number fifteen. It didn't take me long before I figured out that I am supposed to be the fifteenth soul to die today in the accident, for he has also said that fifteen total corpses are to be carried away."
"I like corpses."
Dib sighed yet again. Why did his sister have to desensitize herself from the world the way she had? Couldn't she see that she was in imminent danger? "My point is that if he said you're number fourteen, then you are going to die just before I do. If you want to live, stay away from the cafeteria."
Gaz didn't respond. It was time to leave anyway. She was smart enough to fend for herself. Dib left the Membrane household and went on his own way.
~
Sid looked at his bloody form in the mirror. He hated his appearance. So gray, so frazzled, so ancient, so unbearably ugly. It didn't help that he had two large, unnatural objects protruding from his midriff of crusted blood. As he continued staring hatefully at himself, he realized that he had never really left teen angst mode upon leaving high school. It was a trait that had remained with him for all of his life.
Why did he have to be like that? The world didn't understand him, it never had! He was ugly, and his odor was unpleasant! Oh, most unpleasant! He reeked of sweat, blood, and dead skin, which was currently peeling away from his scalp.
He'd tried codeine for the pain. That had helped physically, yes, but now he wanted some Prozac to help his mental wounds. And he was horribly mentally wounded. He hated himself, he hated everything that frightened him in this world. Which was everything. The clouds wanted to steal his soul, and he was pretty sure that the mimes in the park had drunk his blood before. He shuddered at the memory.
Cheddar. Sid also discovered that he smelled like cheddar in places that he refused to discuss with himself.
He'd kill himself this time - that was for sure! Heh. He'd show himself! Hah! Laughing deliriously, Sid found a flyswatter in the kitchen, and lightly tapped himself on the forehead. He reeled backward as though he'd been struck full on in the face with a cinder block. Falling to the linoleum with a heavy thud, his brain shut itself off and he finally died.
Twelve naked horsemen in Great Britain exchanged nosehairs in celebration.
~
It was lunchtime. This time Dib knew for sure that something horrible was about to happen. People were moving about jerkily, as though being controlled by some higher force. The air was thick with infuriating anticipation of many funerals to come. The lunch ladies even seemed more robotic than usual. (Dib had made theories earlier about some kind of government plan to build prisons for the human filth of this skool, and had constructed lunch ladies to aid in this attack.)
Everything was normal, otherwise. Everyone thankfully accepted the gross items that they assumed were food. Dib didn't accept any such thing, however. He climbed onto an empty table in the middle of the room, stood up, waved his arms, and shouted a warning.
"I NEED YOUR ATTENTION!!! THIS ROOM COULD BURST INTO FLAMES AT ANY MOMENT AND YOU ALL NEED TO GET OUT! FIFTEEN OF US WILL DIE IF YOU DON'T!!! GET OUT NOW!!"
Everyone's eyes met Dib's blankly. He was afraid of this. He should have thought of a way to keep them from coming here in the first place. But not everything could be lost - it never turned out this way. The hero was supposed to save everyone, no more problems, no lives lost, end of story. Luck would have to favor Dib. But would it?
Gaz, seated where she was, was able to look past her screaming brother into the realms of the cafeteria, behind the food counter. She saw something flicker. A spark of something. Her eyes widened slightly. Dib hadn't been full of crap, after all. She should have known better, anyway - she'd also gotten strange messages from this "Indrid Cold," and things had generally been odd lately.
She stretched her right arm onto the table and swung it to the side, thus purposely knocking her tray onto the floor. Standing up and glaring silently, she exited the room of doom (soon to be a tomb) and began her journey to a random room on the other side of the school, far, far away from the aforementioned room of doom. And it was such a room of doom. DOOM!! Gaz smiled to herself. She'd just let them all die. They had, after all, only been people. Hideous, horrible people.
Meanwhile, no one had removed their eyes from Dib as he continued to shout commands and Indrid's prophecies at them in vain. Dib didn't notice what Gaz had. Which wasn't good.
There was a fizzling sound, and then finally Dib turned around, looking wildly over the food counter.
Flames. Coming. Fast. Must leave. Can't help the others. Get out. Now. Or die.
Dib yelled in surprise. He wasn't heard over the sound of the explosion and everyone else's screams. He dove off to the side as quickly as humanly possible, flung himself around a corner, dodged a child who was flying through the air, and hurled himself out of the door, along with a few lucky others.
~
Hours later found the flames dying down at long last. The firefighters finished the job and left promptly, for it was getting late and they didn't want to miss the all-new episode of "Ed," which was a television show they found to be most admirable.
Dib and Gaz stood together, looking at the wreckage, Dib in defeated horror, Gaz in amusement. About two-thirds of the other kids had managed to escape somehow. Zim was among them. He stood in the corner of the playground, where all of the survivors had been herded, smirking at his human enemy. Dib didn't pay any mind, however. This was still too shocking. As usual, he hadn't been able to save the world.
Oh well. He couldn't win.
The "rescue workers" were pitiful. The whole rescue team consisted of mimes, plumbers, angry sumo wrestlers, bitter hot dog vendors, and the overzealous President of the Hair Club for Men.
Dib tried to flag one of them down. "Hey, you there --" he said to an errant plumber.
The plumber didn't acknowledge Dib's presence.
"Hey, you! Hello!!? Talk to me!!" Exasperated enough to last a lifetime, Dib used a magical trout that appeared out of nowhere to beat the ignorant plumber upside the head. "Now, tell me how many people died in there!"
"You have my total attention now," replied the plumber, eyeing the trout nervously. "Um. I think about thirteen people died in there. Two of them were lunch ladies. Yep. I don't like peppermints."
"What caused the explosion?"
"Erm.one o' them lunch hags farted too near a gas stove.um.yerp."
Dib nodded in recognition. "I told you," he muttered to Gaz.
Gaz smiled darkly.
~
In an empty garage somewhere, GIR and Indrid Cold were practicing a dance routine to a mysterious song known as "Half Light."
~
Every time a skool cafeteria explodes, an angel gets its wings.
THE END
~
This isn't really the end, as I still have to post that "Half Light" music video thingy with GIR and Indrid Cold as the seventh chapter yet. So keep on the lookout. I plan on posting that on December fifteenth, to commemorate the collapse of the Silver Bridge. For those of you who don't know, the Silver Bridge collapse is what the Mothman and Indrid Cold were omens of in real life. It collapsed on December 15, thus my reasoning of when to post the "Half Light" thing. Forty-some people lost their lives.