A/N: GAH! Midterms were soooooo loooong. I'm pretty sure I failed math
with my usual style and flair. I'm not sure how well I did in Morality.
(It's not exactly a natural talent ya understand) English I think I did
REALLY well in, same with History and Environmental science. Just to
warn you though if I get a bad report card (which I might, considering I
never do homework except in English) I might not be able to update as
regularly as I'd like. Hopefully my mom'll take pity on me though.
Disclaimer: ... What would you do if I said it WAS mine?
Chapter 9...In which Dib is awake, Zim wonders how best to go about
revealing what he found in his tests and Koil experiments with
something undeniably human.
Dib looked blearily around. He wasn't exactly lucid about what was
going on but he surmised that he must have passed out. He wasn't sure
quite where he was since someone had removed his glasses effectively
reducing his vision down to slightly more than nil. He was laying on
some sort of bed or table maybe, and the purple metallic sheen to
everything led him to guess that he was still in Zim's lab. He toyed
with the idea of sitting up, but his body protested so effectively
that he doubted he could have managed anyway.
He coughed hoarsely, which was rather painful. "Nnng, Zim?"
A fuzzy figure which to Dib resembled nothing so much was an over
large, green matchstick approached where he lay quickly. As it came
closer it resolved itself more or less into a blurry Zim. Dib coughed
again and trembled.
"How do you feel Dib?" he asked with a worried look.
He grimaced. "I think it's safe to say that I feel about as well as,
as," words for the moment escaped him, "as a very, very not well
feeling thing." He buried his head further in the pillow. His head hurt
a lot, a bits of visions he guessed must have been from the terrible
nightmares he'd been having played before his eyes.
"You became unconscious," Zim told him.
"Yeah, I kinda guessed that," he replied with a weak smile.
"I told you that you should conserve your energy." Zim sat down on
the edge of the bed-table-thing.
"Yeah, you did. So what's the diagnosis, am I gonna die of not
listening to your advice?" Dib felt the need to be witty and sarcastic
to make up for the fact that he had about as much energy as a wet tissue
ah, that was the phrase he'd been looking for.
Zim didn't seem to find it funny. He scowled. "Not this time. Count
yourself lucky."
"Aye aye, cap'n." He squinted to see if Zim was still scowling. It
was very difficult to make out details at a distance past three inches
with his natural eyesight. "Um, Zim, can I have my glasses?"
The alien took something off of a grey something, and proffered it to
Dib. It turned out to indeed be his glasses which he put on without to
much trouble.
Zim, as it turned out, wasn't scowling, but he was frowning rather
deeply. "You are going to need several days of bed rest you realize."
Now Dib frowned. He hadn't really come to terms with that fact yet.
Zim didn't give him the time to think up a proper response. "You
realize also that I am not about to risk moving you in your current
condition."
Dib opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off again.
"Therefore you are not going to be leaving here until you are in
reasonably good health." Zim crossed his arms as if to cut off any
ensuing argument.
It didn't stop Dib from trying. "But-"
"If you do not follow THIS advice Dib, you most likely will end up
dead.
He sighed. "I wonder if anyone will notice I'm gone?" he muttered to
himself.
"I called your house so they would not worry. I told your sister that
are having a 'sleep-under'."
Dib nearly choked, wondering what Gaz's reaction had been. Then he
laughed, which turned out to be a bad idea as it was quite painful. He
cringed, still smiling weakly. "It's sleep-OVER Zim."
"Yes, that," he agreed with an absent nod, standing up.
Dib thought he seemed rather distant, preoccupied. "Is something
wrong?"
The Irken turned back to look at him. "You nearly died Dib, that is
not an event I wish to occur." Instantly almost he looked away again.
"You are thirsty," he announced. "I will get you water."
Dib was about to protest that is was unnecessary, but a fit of dry
coughs stopped him. Zim swaggered from the lab.
"Wait," Dib said too late, "I don't want to be left alone."
***
Zim hurried up to the kitchen. He needed to be away from the raven
haired boy for a moment to gather his thoughts and make sure that he
didn't say something stupid. The sounds of the television reassured him
that Kiir had indeed come upstairs when Dib had woken and had thankfully
taken Gir with her.
He took a glass out of the cupboard. Tentatively he turned on the
tap to see the water rush out and down the drain. Careful not to get
any on himself or the outside of the cup he filled it and shut off the
water as quickly as he could. It occurred to him again, as it had the
night before that water was very symbolic. In this instance it struck
him as a good metaphor for time, pouring away, gone almost as soon as
it was there and utterly useless unless you catch it. But once caught
did the moment quench a thirst or did it sting like a slap in the face?
Careful not to spill any he made his way back down to the lab. Right
now was not the time for complex poetic imagery. Now was the time for
thinking up a good way to ask Dib if he knew that well, that he wasn't
human, exactly. And what if he didn't know? How would Zim tell him?
What if he had a nervous breakdown and it worsened his condition? Maybe
now was not the time to tell him. But he had a right to know, didn't
he?
Zim took the elevator down. Well, at least he hadn't panicked upon
waking up in the lab. That was definitely a good thing. But why hadn't
he?
***
Dib kept his eyes open to stop the nightmares from replaying behind
his eyelids. He knew they were all probably very symbolic and showed
loads of things about his psyche that he in all likelihood didn't
want to know. The problem was, however, that it didn't take a genius
to analyze these particular dreams and since he was certifiably a
genius anyway, he already knew what they all meant. It was just too
obvious.
The first segment was of course a dramatic reinterpretation of his
encounter with the Oranges that morning. Brought to you by Dib's
gushy, romantic side. The second bit with the mirror represented the
struggle between that side and the snide, disinterested Paranormal
Investigator. After that was a melodramatic portrayal of the fact
that he had always envied Zim rather than he hated him. It was trying
to tell him that the reason he'd always been trying to thwart Zim was
because he was jealous.
And the last two clips, ah, of course. Being tossed into the void of
space definitely represented his loneliness and isolation and being
rescued from it meant that he felt he'd found someone who could
alleviate that isolation. Three guesses who.
If he'd been standing he would have shaken his head. It was nothing
new. His subconscious wasn't very creative, was it? He sighed, wishing
his head would stop pounding.
The elevator doors slide open and Zim stepped out, holding with some
hesitation, a glass of water.
"You didn't have to do that," Dib said, although rather touched and
intrigued by the level of Zim's concern.
"The computer says you are dehydrated," Zim answered.
"You could have made Kiir get it," he pointed out.
Zim made a face. "And listen to her complain for ten minutes about
it? It was easier just to get it. Can you sit up?"
Dib winced, attempting to do just that.
"Computer, pillows," Zim said.
A metal claw whirred from somewhere and deposited four or five large
pillows at the foot of the bed before whirring away again.
"That's really something," Dib said, still impressed by all of the
technology encompassed in Zim's lab. That fact that it did everything
from launch probes to control defenses and fetch and carry was just
cool. "Does it do laundry to?" he joked.
"Yes," Zim replied seriously. He set down the glass of water on a
metal table-pedestal-thing. He picked up several of the pillows. "Here,"
he said, and without waiting put his arm around Dib's shoulders, lifted
him forward into a sitting position and stuffed the pillows behind him.
Dib felt himself blush again and shifted his gaze away. "Thanks," he
muttered embarrassedly.
"Drink," Zim said, now pressing the glass into his hands.
Dib took it gratefully. "hey, um, what time is it anyway?"
"It is just past midnight."
"Oh, thanks." Wow, he'd been out for hours. Hadn't Zim said it was
seven thirty, just before he passed out? Dib started to take a drink
of the water just as he remembered what had happened directly before
that. The whole touching thing, and Dib had said. Oh god.
He felt his face grow hot again and tried to hide it by drinking.
The alien took a seat in a chair beside the bed. "Er, Dib. There's
something I think you should know."
Dib froze and turned mid drink to look at him. Please god let him not
want to kill me now. Please, it's not that much to ask, is it? It didn't
occur to him in his adolescent panic that Zim had not only had a good
many chances to kill him after the incident, but could simply have not
done anything to help him.
"Yes Zim?" he squeaked fully expecting Zim's next words to be, 'Don't
ever touch me again', or 'I don't swing that way', or something.
"I ran some tests on you while you were out, to make sure you were
going to be alright."
Dib stared at him blankly.
"I knew you'd be angry but it was nes-"
Dib cut him off. "No, no. I'm not angry. I was just surprised. It...
wasn't what I expected you to say." To say he wasn't angry was an
understatement. He was thoroughly relieved. He wanted to hug him in fact,
for not being angry at him. But that seemed like a bad idea, and anyway
he still didn't have very good control over his motor functions.
"You're not?" Zim blinked, it seemed to be his turn to be surprised.
"No, I'm glad actually. To know there's nothing wrong." He paused.
"Nothing's wrong, is it?"
The alien grew noticeably more uncomfortable. "Well, no not, wrong as
such, exactly. You see, um..."
Dib furrowed his brow. "What is it, Zim?"
"Um, well," he twiddled his thumbs. "Why don't you take a look.
Computer, display the results of Dib's tests."
The large screen snapped on, showing several different screens at
once. "This one's your physiology," Zim said. "Normal human bone
structure, if a bit slight of frame. All your human organs are in the
right places, etcetera, etcetera." He pointed to a different screen, one
with pink squiggly lines on it. "This one is your brain activity. It's
twenty percent higher than he normal human limit."
Dib frowned and shrugged. "Well, I am a super genius." He said this
without a trace of arrogance.
"No, you misunderstand. Not twenty percent higher than the human
average. Twenty percent higher than the human LIMIT."
Dib took a moment to try to figure this out. "...oh. What exactly
does that mean?"
"Just keep watching." He pointed to a third screen. "This one's your
genetic makeup. Humans have forty-six chromosomes, yes?"
Dib nodded, wondering exactly where all this was going. "Twenty three
from each parent."
"Brace yourself Dib. You have fifty-eight chromosomes, from no
discernable source. Your DNA as far as I can tell is completely unique."
Dib stared at him. "But that would mean..."
"You're not human, Dib."
***
The balding man who had answered the door had been easily dispatched
if not particularly nourishing. The figure that seemed to be Isabella
Drone but most certainly was not looked from the number on the side of
the door, down to the driver's license and back up to the house. It
was the correct address. With one hand Koil picked the dead man up by
the collar and carried him into the house, shutting the door behind
herself.
Once inside she looked for a convenient place to store the body,
preferably out of sight. It was a pity she hadn't thought to do a
memory drain on the teacher-woman as well, it would have been useful
at this point. She would just have to look.
After a few minutes of pacing around the downstairs opening doors
and shutting them again, Koil came across a door that led down into
a dark, unfinished room, the basement. She tossed the body of Joseph
Drone into a corner and went back up again.
The rooms she had found were arranged as such that one entered
through the kitchen which doubled as a dining room. Past that was a
room with large windows, the curtains of which Koil shut, a couch, two
squashy chairs a table an earth view-screen.
Between the first two rooms was a door which opened to a hallway
which had four more rooms. The first two were rather small, one full
of another view-screen, books and a chair, the other a desk and a lot
of papers. At the end of the hall was another even smaller room, with
human facilities, and a room that was larger than the rest with a large
bed and several dressers.
Koil went into the room that had the large windows, which seemed to
be the main room, and sat down in one of the chairs. Hanging from the
ceiling were odd little things that knocked together at the slightest
movement of air and made ringing sounds.
On the arm of the chair was a small remote device that looked as if
it operated the view screen. Koil picked it up boredly. This venture
was proving to be more trying than anticipated. 'Go to Earth' 'lets
try Earth', Buntch had urged her. 'It'll be fun', 'It'll be easy',
'It'll be ironic'. Why she listened to that idiot was beyond her.
Koil looked down at the hand she wore. This body displeased her sense
of aesthetics, it was much too lumpy and squashed. It was not as though
the operation would require her to wear this form either, it was merely
necessary to dispose of the teacher. Instead of posing as Isabella
Drone herself she could say the human was sick and that she was the
substitute.
Before coming to Earth Koil had at least demanded that they make a
thorough study of the planet and the inhabitants just in case. Buntch
hadn't understood why she bothered, but it gave her a great
satisfaction to understand these hapless creatures and their inferior
technologies and customs.
She picked up the 'remote control' and turned on the 'Television'.
Now she only had to decide what form and name she would choose. Perhaps
a human 'TV show' would help her decide.
To be continued...
That's all for now folks. Oh, and by the way, the reason I do all these
cliffhangers is twofold. First, because if I spend too long at the
computer my dad yells at me and second because I know that if I leave
you wanting to know what happens you'll keep reading. Duh.
So, what exactly IS Dib if he's not human? Will Zim and Dib ever figure
out that their love ISN'T unrequited? What form will Koil choose? What
is Kiir doing, is it destructive?
Find out on the next installment of Cognitive Dissonance!
Read it? Review it!
with my usual style and flair. I'm not sure how well I did in Morality.
(It's not exactly a natural talent ya understand) English I think I did
REALLY well in, same with History and Environmental science. Just to
warn you though if I get a bad report card (which I might, considering I
never do homework except in English) I might not be able to update as
regularly as I'd like. Hopefully my mom'll take pity on me though.
Disclaimer: ... What would you do if I said it WAS mine?
Chapter 9...In which Dib is awake, Zim wonders how best to go about
revealing what he found in his tests and Koil experiments with
something undeniably human.
Dib looked blearily around. He wasn't exactly lucid about what was
going on but he surmised that he must have passed out. He wasn't sure
quite where he was since someone had removed his glasses effectively
reducing his vision down to slightly more than nil. He was laying on
some sort of bed or table maybe, and the purple metallic sheen to
everything led him to guess that he was still in Zim's lab. He toyed
with the idea of sitting up, but his body protested so effectively
that he doubted he could have managed anyway.
He coughed hoarsely, which was rather painful. "Nnng, Zim?"
A fuzzy figure which to Dib resembled nothing so much was an over
large, green matchstick approached where he lay quickly. As it came
closer it resolved itself more or less into a blurry Zim. Dib coughed
again and trembled.
"How do you feel Dib?" he asked with a worried look.
He grimaced. "I think it's safe to say that I feel about as well as,
as," words for the moment escaped him, "as a very, very not well
feeling thing." He buried his head further in the pillow. His head hurt
a lot, a bits of visions he guessed must have been from the terrible
nightmares he'd been having played before his eyes.
"You became unconscious," Zim told him.
"Yeah, I kinda guessed that," he replied with a weak smile.
"I told you that you should conserve your energy." Zim sat down on
the edge of the bed-table-thing.
"Yeah, you did. So what's the diagnosis, am I gonna die of not
listening to your advice?" Dib felt the need to be witty and sarcastic
to make up for the fact that he had about as much energy as a wet tissue
ah, that was the phrase he'd been looking for.
Zim didn't seem to find it funny. He scowled. "Not this time. Count
yourself lucky."
"Aye aye, cap'n." He squinted to see if Zim was still scowling. It
was very difficult to make out details at a distance past three inches
with his natural eyesight. "Um, Zim, can I have my glasses?"
The alien took something off of a grey something, and proffered it to
Dib. It turned out to indeed be his glasses which he put on without to
much trouble.
Zim, as it turned out, wasn't scowling, but he was frowning rather
deeply. "You are going to need several days of bed rest you realize."
Now Dib frowned. He hadn't really come to terms with that fact yet.
Zim didn't give him the time to think up a proper response. "You
realize also that I am not about to risk moving you in your current
condition."
Dib opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off again.
"Therefore you are not going to be leaving here until you are in
reasonably good health." Zim crossed his arms as if to cut off any
ensuing argument.
It didn't stop Dib from trying. "But-"
"If you do not follow THIS advice Dib, you most likely will end up
dead.
He sighed. "I wonder if anyone will notice I'm gone?" he muttered to
himself.
"I called your house so they would not worry. I told your sister that
are having a 'sleep-under'."
Dib nearly choked, wondering what Gaz's reaction had been. Then he
laughed, which turned out to be a bad idea as it was quite painful. He
cringed, still smiling weakly. "It's sleep-OVER Zim."
"Yes, that," he agreed with an absent nod, standing up.
Dib thought he seemed rather distant, preoccupied. "Is something
wrong?"
The Irken turned back to look at him. "You nearly died Dib, that is
not an event I wish to occur." Instantly almost he looked away again.
"You are thirsty," he announced. "I will get you water."
Dib was about to protest that is was unnecessary, but a fit of dry
coughs stopped him. Zim swaggered from the lab.
"Wait," Dib said too late, "I don't want to be left alone."
***
Zim hurried up to the kitchen. He needed to be away from the raven
haired boy for a moment to gather his thoughts and make sure that he
didn't say something stupid. The sounds of the television reassured him
that Kiir had indeed come upstairs when Dib had woken and had thankfully
taken Gir with her.
He took a glass out of the cupboard. Tentatively he turned on the
tap to see the water rush out and down the drain. Careful not to get
any on himself or the outside of the cup he filled it and shut off the
water as quickly as he could. It occurred to him again, as it had the
night before that water was very symbolic. In this instance it struck
him as a good metaphor for time, pouring away, gone almost as soon as
it was there and utterly useless unless you catch it. But once caught
did the moment quench a thirst or did it sting like a slap in the face?
Careful not to spill any he made his way back down to the lab. Right
now was not the time for complex poetic imagery. Now was the time for
thinking up a good way to ask Dib if he knew that well, that he wasn't
human, exactly. And what if he didn't know? How would Zim tell him?
What if he had a nervous breakdown and it worsened his condition? Maybe
now was not the time to tell him. But he had a right to know, didn't
he?
Zim took the elevator down. Well, at least he hadn't panicked upon
waking up in the lab. That was definitely a good thing. But why hadn't
he?
***
Dib kept his eyes open to stop the nightmares from replaying behind
his eyelids. He knew they were all probably very symbolic and showed
loads of things about his psyche that he in all likelihood didn't
want to know. The problem was, however, that it didn't take a genius
to analyze these particular dreams and since he was certifiably a
genius anyway, he already knew what they all meant. It was just too
obvious.
The first segment was of course a dramatic reinterpretation of his
encounter with the Oranges that morning. Brought to you by Dib's
gushy, romantic side. The second bit with the mirror represented the
struggle between that side and the snide, disinterested Paranormal
Investigator. After that was a melodramatic portrayal of the fact
that he had always envied Zim rather than he hated him. It was trying
to tell him that the reason he'd always been trying to thwart Zim was
because he was jealous.
And the last two clips, ah, of course. Being tossed into the void of
space definitely represented his loneliness and isolation and being
rescued from it meant that he felt he'd found someone who could
alleviate that isolation. Three guesses who.
If he'd been standing he would have shaken his head. It was nothing
new. His subconscious wasn't very creative, was it? He sighed, wishing
his head would stop pounding.
The elevator doors slide open and Zim stepped out, holding with some
hesitation, a glass of water.
"You didn't have to do that," Dib said, although rather touched and
intrigued by the level of Zim's concern.
"The computer says you are dehydrated," Zim answered.
"You could have made Kiir get it," he pointed out.
Zim made a face. "And listen to her complain for ten minutes about
it? It was easier just to get it. Can you sit up?"
Dib winced, attempting to do just that.
"Computer, pillows," Zim said.
A metal claw whirred from somewhere and deposited four or five large
pillows at the foot of the bed before whirring away again.
"That's really something," Dib said, still impressed by all of the
technology encompassed in Zim's lab. That fact that it did everything
from launch probes to control defenses and fetch and carry was just
cool. "Does it do laundry to?" he joked.
"Yes," Zim replied seriously. He set down the glass of water on a
metal table-pedestal-thing. He picked up several of the pillows. "Here,"
he said, and without waiting put his arm around Dib's shoulders, lifted
him forward into a sitting position and stuffed the pillows behind him.
Dib felt himself blush again and shifted his gaze away. "Thanks," he
muttered embarrassedly.
"Drink," Zim said, now pressing the glass into his hands.
Dib took it gratefully. "hey, um, what time is it anyway?"
"It is just past midnight."
"Oh, thanks." Wow, he'd been out for hours. Hadn't Zim said it was
seven thirty, just before he passed out? Dib started to take a drink
of the water just as he remembered what had happened directly before
that. The whole touching thing, and Dib had said. Oh god.
He felt his face grow hot again and tried to hide it by drinking.
The alien took a seat in a chair beside the bed. "Er, Dib. There's
something I think you should know."
Dib froze and turned mid drink to look at him. Please god let him not
want to kill me now. Please, it's not that much to ask, is it? It didn't
occur to him in his adolescent panic that Zim had not only had a good
many chances to kill him after the incident, but could simply have not
done anything to help him.
"Yes Zim?" he squeaked fully expecting Zim's next words to be, 'Don't
ever touch me again', or 'I don't swing that way', or something.
"I ran some tests on you while you were out, to make sure you were
going to be alright."
Dib stared at him blankly.
"I knew you'd be angry but it was nes-"
Dib cut him off. "No, no. I'm not angry. I was just surprised. It...
wasn't what I expected you to say." To say he wasn't angry was an
understatement. He was thoroughly relieved. He wanted to hug him in fact,
for not being angry at him. But that seemed like a bad idea, and anyway
he still didn't have very good control over his motor functions.
"You're not?" Zim blinked, it seemed to be his turn to be surprised.
"No, I'm glad actually. To know there's nothing wrong." He paused.
"Nothing's wrong, is it?"
The alien grew noticeably more uncomfortable. "Well, no not, wrong as
such, exactly. You see, um..."
Dib furrowed his brow. "What is it, Zim?"
"Um, well," he twiddled his thumbs. "Why don't you take a look.
Computer, display the results of Dib's tests."
The large screen snapped on, showing several different screens at
once. "This one's your physiology," Zim said. "Normal human bone
structure, if a bit slight of frame. All your human organs are in the
right places, etcetera, etcetera." He pointed to a different screen, one
with pink squiggly lines on it. "This one is your brain activity. It's
twenty percent higher than he normal human limit."
Dib frowned and shrugged. "Well, I am a super genius." He said this
without a trace of arrogance.
"No, you misunderstand. Not twenty percent higher than the human
average. Twenty percent higher than the human LIMIT."
Dib took a moment to try to figure this out. "...oh. What exactly
does that mean?"
"Just keep watching." He pointed to a third screen. "This one's your
genetic makeup. Humans have forty-six chromosomes, yes?"
Dib nodded, wondering exactly where all this was going. "Twenty three
from each parent."
"Brace yourself Dib. You have fifty-eight chromosomes, from no
discernable source. Your DNA as far as I can tell is completely unique."
Dib stared at him. "But that would mean..."
"You're not human, Dib."
***
The balding man who had answered the door had been easily dispatched
if not particularly nourishing. The figure that seemed to be Isabella
Drone but most certainly was not looked from the number on the side of
the door, down to the driver's license and back up to the house. It
was the correct address. With one hand Koil picked the dead man up by
the collar and carried him into the house, shutting the door behind
herself.
Once inside she looked for a convenient place to store the body,
preferably out of sight. It was a pity she hadn't thought to do a
memory drain on the teacher-woman as well, it would have been useful
at this point. She would just have to look.
After a few minutes of pacing around the downstairs opening doors
and shutting them again, Koil came across a door that led down into
a dark, unfinished room, the basement. She tossed the body of Joseph
Drone into a corner and went back up again.
The rooms she had found were arranged as such that one entered
through the kitchen which doubled as a dining room. Past that was a
room with large windows, the curtains of which Koil shut, a couch, two
squashy chairs a table an earth view-screen.
Between the first two rooms was a door which opened to a hallway
which had four more rooms. The first two were rather small, one full
of another view-screen, books and a chair, the other a desk and a lot
of papers. At the end of the hall was another even smaller room, with
human facilities, and a room that was larger than the rest with a large
bed and several dressers.
Koil went into the room that had the large windows, which seemed to
be the main room, and sat down in one of the chairs. Hanging from the
ceiling were odd little things that knocked together at the slightest
movement of air and made ringing sounds.
On the arm of the chair was a small remote device that looked as if
it operated the view screen. Koil picked it up boredly. This venture
was proving to be more trying than anticipated. 'Go to Earth' 'lets
try Earth', Buntch had urged her. 'It'll be fun', 'It'll be easy',
'It'll be ironic'. Why she listened to that idiot was beyond her.
Koil looked down at the hand she wore. This body displeased her sense
of aesthetics, it was much too lumpy and squashed. It was not as though
the operation would require her to wear this form either, it was merely
necessary to dispose of the teacher. Instead of posing as Isabella
Drone herself she could say the human was sick and that she was the
substitute.
Before coming to Earth Koil had at least demanded that they make a
thorough study of the planet and the inhabitants just in case. Buntch
hadn't understood why she bothered, but it gave her a great
satisfaction to understand these hapless creatures and their inferior
technologies and customs.
She picked up the 'remote control' and turned on the 'Television'.
Now she only had to decide what form and name she would choose. Perhaps
a human 'TV show' would help her decide.
To be continued...
That's all for now folks. Oh, and by the way, the reason I do all these
cliffhangers is twofold. First, because if I spend too long at the
computer my dad yells at me and second because I know that if I leave
you wanting to know what happens you'll keep reading. Duh.
So, what exactly IS Dib if he's not human? Will Zim and Dib ever figure
out that their love ISN'T unrequited? What form will Koil choose? What
is Kiir doing, is it destructive?
Find out on the next installment of Cognitive Dissonance!
Read it? Review it!