A/n: Wow. Seriously. Just wow. I'm completely amazed and taken aback by the amount of positive response that I got from the last chapter. You all are absolutely amazing. Cos holy crap. Thank you thank you thank you. Really. You all made me feel loved.

I hope now that I don't disappoint you, 'specially since you people seem to think that I'm funny….

DibMagician: I'm sorry if this seems like something you've read before. Hopefully I'll deviate into something original, but if it still sounds similar, let me know. I would hate to have it look like I was copying someone else's idea. Specially cos I wouldn't know who I was copying.

Oh, and Dibsthe1—whiskey, my friend, lots and lots of whisky.

Ps: Gee, can anyone guess my current occupation by this chapter? o.O

Pps: Holy Fucking Shit…I'm in hysterics right now. You see, I actually finished this chapter. 24 fucking pages. The longest chapter I've written for anything so far. It was magical, it was perfect…and then…and then I clicked the wrong fucking button and…it all…went away. I accidentally shut the window, my sleep deprived brain not realizing that I hadn't saved since I started this damned thing. That doesn't happen. That doesn't fucking happen. Its 3am, I've been working on this chapter off and on throughout the day, and for the past 4 hours straight, and now… I have to do it all over again. This is the kind of stuff that causes people to take sniper rifles to the tops of buildings. Seriously. I can't stop laughing. I think I just went insane. And I'm staring at the blankness under this note and all I can think, with tears in my eyes is: I DON'T WANT TO WRITE IT AGAIN!!!!! …I'm gonna go cry, now. Enjoy the sub-par-ness of the re-write of this chapter.

DISCLAIMER (cos I forgot on the last chapter, cos I suck…): I don't own IZ.

You Only Live Twice

PART TWO: In which Dib meets his maker…sort of.

Main Entry: test
Pronunciation: 'test
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, vessel in which metals were assayed, cupel, from Middle French, from Latin testum earthen vessel; akin to Latin testa earthen pot, shell
1 a chiefly British : CUPEL b (1) a critical examination, observation, or evaluation : TRIAL; specifically the procedure of submitting a statement to such conditions or operations as will lead to its proof or disproof or to its acceptance or rejection a test of a statistical hypothesis (2) a basis for evaluation : CRITERION c an ordeal or oath required as proof of conformity with a set of beliefs
2 a a means of testing: as (1) a procedure, reaction, or reagent used to identify or characterize a substance or constituent (2) something (as a series of questions or exercises) for measuring the skill, knowledge, intelligence, capacities, or aptitudes of an individual or group b a positive result in such a test
3 a result or value determined by testing
4 : TEST MATCH

I awoke to find myself sitting at a table, my head lying on the Formica surface, a small trail of drool leading from my mouth. As I opened my eyes, I noticed that my vision was a bit doubled and realized that I was lying on my glasses. Great. Now they would be crooked till I worked up the patience to straighten them out again. I really needed to talk Dad into getting me contacts.

I raised my head and took in my surroundings I seemed to be at a restaurant. The people in the booths around me shoveled food into their mouths like there was no tomorrow, in between barking orders at the waitresses, who rushed from table to table doing their masters' biddings.

"Where…am I?" I asked the air.

"The clichéd first question out of every new comer's mouth." A voice stated. I jumped, startled and spun around quickly to face the owner of the voice. A man in what looked to be his late 20's sat across from me. He wore a tight maroon long sleeved shirt, his hair spiked and dyed an unnaturally vivid red. A pair of oval shaped wire framed glasses rested on his nose.

"Who are you?"

"And there's question number two. Congratulations, Dib, you've finally achieved normality."

I stared at the strange man, trying to figure out how he knew my name. I felt a familiar wave of paranoia come over me, propelling me to my feet on top of the booth seat. "Who are you?!" I shouted, pointing madly, "Where am I?! How do you know my name?! And what the hell is that?!" My finger's direction changed, pointing towards a hideous blobby mass that covered the entire back section of the restaurant.

"That?" He nodded his head towards the monstrosity, "That's just Larry. Hi, Larry!" The strange man called, raising his hand in a small wave.

The creature's eyes seemed to slide across the surface of his body before coming to rest on us. It raised a chicken leg in acknowledgement before shoving it into its horrible gaping maw.

"Now sit down, kid, will ya?" The man continued, "You're making a scene, and believe me, this is one place you don't want to be kicked out of. You're lucky that you're even here."

It came to my attention, then, that the restaurant had become eerily quiet. A quick scan of the room proved that every eye was now on me. Food dripped from forks suspended in the time and space that existed between the plate and the mouth. I felt the blood rush to my face as I muttered a hasty apology and sank back into my seat. Around me, the world continued on its merry way.

A waitress approached us, then. She wore the same ugly uniform as the rest of the girls—baggy blue polo shirt and black pants, her brown hair pulled up into a pony tail. The apron that was tied around her waist was stained with what looked to be an assortment of condiments. An extremely fake smile was plastered on her lips and her eyes behind her black horn rimmed glasses seemed to be glazed over with a mixture of exhaustion and disinterest.

"Hello, and welcome to the Down Town Café." She greeted, seeming to look right through us, "I'm Erin, and I'll be taking care of you boys, tonight." Her eyes seemed to focus as they fell on my mysterious companion, and her face brightened, her smile becoming genuine. "J! I haven't seen you in ages! I was beginning to think that you forgot about me."

The man across from me smiled back at our server, "The boss has been keeping me busy." He explained, shrugging slightly.

"I can imagine." Erin replied. Her gaze turned to me and she tilted her head, "New case?" She inquired.

"Oh!" the mysterious man—J—jumped a bit in his seat. "Erin, this is Dib, Dib, Erin." He introduced, motioning to each one of us in turn, "Be careful, though, Dib, I wouldn't get too close. She may look innocent, but she's been known to bit the heads off of full grown chiwawas in one bite."

"Now, now, J," Erin admonished, chuckling, "you exaggerate. It wasn't a full grown chiwawa." She grinned, and then squinted her eyes a bit, scrutinizing me. "Yup, he's defiantly one of yours, J—the trench coat is a tell tale sign. But…why is his head so big? I mean it's huge! You could fit a small child in that thing!"

"Hey! What's wrong with my jacket?" I demanded, defensively, "And my head is not big!"

Erin laughed again before returning into waitress mode, her eyes losing their luster behind her glasses, "What can I get for you guys to drink?" She asked.

I was not to be deterred. "No, I'm serious, what's the big deal?! My head isn't any bigger than anyone else's! I mean, yeah, it's sort of on the round side, but that doesn't make it unnaturally huge! I mean, look at my sister! Her head is like a freakin' beach ball and nobody says anything to her! Why—" My tirade was cut short by J leaning across the table and clamping on tanned hand firmly over my mouth, his finger and thumb pinching my nose shut. I flailed my arms around helplessly as I struggled to breath.

He turned to Erin, "Dib here will have a large Classic Poop, and I'll have a Diet." He ordered. Erin nodded in understanding and made her way back to the kitchen.

J's eyes were on me, now, "You're making a scene, again, and it's bothering me, so I'll give you a choice. You can either shut up and listen and I'll take my hand off of your face, or I'll keep it here until you pass out and then we'll start all over again from 'where am I'. But then I will be very, very irritated, and I don't like being irritated, which means you won't like me irritated. It's up to you, Dib. Are you going to be good?"

Being deprived of air can put certain things into perspective very quickly. I nodded my agreement and gasped as the hand was removed from my mouth. I laid my forehead on the table, thanking it internally for it's coolness as I felt the blood drain from my head back into the rest of my body.

Erin returned with our drinks, then, and placed them on the table in front of us. I grabbed mine, quickly and drained half of it in one gulp.

Erin tucked the tray under her arm and produced an order pad and a pen from her apron pocket. "You guys getting any food?" She asked, her pen poised and ready.

"Not right now, Erin," J answered, "it would probably be best to eat after I explain everything to him. Sometimes they don't take it too well, and I'd hate for you to have to clean up the mess."

"Ick." She replied, scrunching up her nose. She shrugged and put the pad away, tucking the pen into her pony tail. "Well, just shout if you need anything, alright? Good luck!" With that she was gone, moving on towards her other tables, her eyes scanning for empty glasses as she went.

J turned back to me and took a sip of his drink. "Now then—"

"You still haven't told me where I am or what I'm doing here." I demanded, "Or who you are and how you know my name. Is this another one of Zim's illusions? Cos if it is, I'm not going to—" J gave me a look, cutting me off.

"You know, maybe if you would let me get a word in edgewise, I would be able to explain this stuff to you, Hmm? Did it ever occur to you to stop talking and just listen for a moment?"

I closed my mouth. He had a point. Even if this was one of Zim's traps, panicking wasn't going to solve anything. I motioned for him to go on.

"I see I have your attention, now. Good. Just drink your Poop and listen. I want you to think back—what's the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" I asked, confused.

J sighed, "It has everything to do with anything. The more you remember the easier it is for me to explain what is going on. So just…focus, alright? What is the last thing that you remember?"

I frowned slightly, but did as he asked, furrowing my brow in concentration. I remembered something about a cat…and Zim…and a wire…and…pain somehow connected to a puddle of Suck-Munkee…That's it!

"I was spying on Zim, and ended up getting electrocuted when his Uber-Kitten plan escaped—oh my god! That horrible kitten! It could be loose in the city! I have to stop it!" I rose quickly to my feet, my body tensed to run out the door and save the world. J's hand reached quickly across the table and stopped me.

"The city is fine, Dib. The kitten is contained. Stop worrying about Zim for one second and focus on yourself for once. This has nothing to do with the fate of the world, this only has to do with you." I hesitated and then sank back into my seat. J nodded and released my sleeve, sitting back against the booth on his side.

"Now then," J began, taking another sip of his soda, I followed suit, "yes, you were electrocuted while spying on Zim. The force was enough to separate your soul from your body, which is what landed you here."

"Separated my soul from my body?" I echoed, bewildered, "Does…does this mean I'm in heaven?"

J snorted, "Heaven isn't this clean, kid."

I looked around at the grease stained walls, the grimy tabletops. If this was clean, I would hate to see what dirty was. I subconsciously began to re-evaluate my religious views.

I felt myself frowning, "If this isn't heaven then…is it hell? That can't be right, I mean, I know I haven't been the best person in the world, but I couldn't have done anything bad enough to get myself stuck in hell, right?"

J shook his head in the negative, "No, no, this isn't hell, either. You see, you weren't supposed to do anything stupid enough to get yourself killed for quite a while, yet, so when your soul got separated, it caused a bit of a glitch, seeing as how this isn't your time. The system didn't know where to file you so it sent you here. To Limbo. A space somewhere in between heaven and hell."

"Limbo…in between heaven and hell…" I repeated these words, my mind trying to catch up and comprehend all of the information it had received. "If I'm in limbo…that means…does that mean I'm a ghost?! WOW! That's awesome!"

"Now I never said—" J tried to interrupt. I was too immersed in my excitement to pay attention.

"Man, this is great! I'm a ghost! I'm walking proof of everything I've tried to expose! I am my own life's work! Just think of all the cool stuff I can do, now! There's no way that Zim can track me spying on him—I'm invisible! The whole non tangible thing could be a problem, considering I can't touch anything, but…I know! I could possess someone and talk them into exposing him for me!"

"But your not—" J tried again. I still wasn't paying attention.

"That's it. I can just wait and find someone who's holding a séance. And then possess their body! I can write out Zim's location and have them take the evidence to the Swollen Eyeballs—no, better yet—the President! With government exposure, Zim will be captured, and they could still name the autopsy video after—"

"DIB!" J shouted, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me from my reveries, "You're not a ghost!"

"I'm…not?" I asked, disappointed.

"No." He answered, releasing my shoulder and sitting back. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Man, I've never seen anyone that excited to be dead—which you're not by the way."

"I'm not? But you said—"

"You're in a coma, Dib. I told you that your soul separated from your body, yes, but that body is still alive back on Earth. It's being kept that way by machines, sure, but it's still, for all extensive purposes, alive."

"But—"

"You know," J began, sitting upright in his seat, "maybe it would just be easier to show you."

"Huh?"

J snapped his fingers and instantly we found ourselves in a hospital room. The smell of disinfectant invaded my nostrils and I immediately began to feel uncomfortable. The room was too cramped, too cold, too white. That constant beeping of life-support machines caused my spine to twitch in time. I hated hospitals with a passion, having spent so much of my child hood there while Mom was sick.

I noticed now that we were standing that J stood almost a full foot taller than me and was wearing skin tight black leather pants tucked into black boots that were covered in an assortment of zippers and buckles. He looked like he had stepped straight out of a gothic catalogue. Although with my black pants, gray t-shirt, boots and trench coat, someone could probably say that same thing about me.

"You're on the other side of that curtain," J stated, nodding across the room, "take a look."

"You know, how 'bout we don't and say we did, huh?" I begged, a knot forming in my stomach, "I believe you, now, really. Can we just go?"

J shook his head, "Nope, you have to go look for yourself." He gave me a little push.

"But—"

"Dib. Go. Now." Something in the man's voice told me not to argue anymore and I began to slowly make my way to the other side of the room.

I reached the curtain all too quickly and swallowed hard before reaching out to move the light blue barrier out of my way. I gasped, surprised, as my hand passed right thought the material. I spun my wrist in amazement, feeling every fiber touching my skin, or what I approximated to be skin, yet my intrusion didn't affect the curtain at all. I took a deep breath, held it and closed my eyes before stepping forward and phasing completely though the sheet.

No amount of mental perpetration could have prepared me for the condition of the body that lay on the bed. My skin was so pale that it was hard to tell where the starched white hospital sheet ended and I began. My normally slight frame seemed even smaller, somehow, probably because of the fact that I would have to be fed intravenously. Large dark purple bags hung under my eyes like bruises, making my skin look even more gaunt and pale, wires led from machines into my nose and wrist, pumping air and nutrients into my lungs and bloodstream. This was me? I was tempted to touch the figure, to assure myself of the fact that it was indeed real, but I held myself back, not wanting the experience of feeling my hand phasing though my body.

Standing there, looking at myself in this disembodied way, I was stuck with how clearly evident it was that the body is merely a shell, a vessel for the soul. Without the spiritual, that material is nothing more than a very complex, warm machine.

"UGH! Even in this so called SERILE environment, the place is covered with DISGUSTING GERMS! How is anyone supposed to regain their health while surrounded by such FILTY DIRTY….DIRT?!"

That voice! I realized for the first time that I was not alone on this side of the curtain. Zim stood by the wall, pacing madly, his arms waving around with the force of his frustrated ranting. Gaz sat in a chair not too far away, playing her GameSlave as usual. I recognized by the way she punched at the buttons, and the irritated scowl on her face that Zim's shouting was beginning to make her lose her concentration. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes when she messed up. Gir sat, in his dog costume, on the floor at my sister's feet, staring up at her with wide-eyes adoration. A puddle of drool was forming around him.

"Zim, your voice is annoying me. If I mess up this level I will be forced to doom you, and believe me—you will not enjoy it." My sister growled, continuing to punch at the buttons. Her eyes glanced in a moment of uncharacteristic paranoia from the small screen to Gir's staring eyes and back again. "And do you think you can make you're stupid robot stop that? He's giving me the creeps."

"I luuuurrrrvveee you!" Gir drawled in response. He leaped up and latched himself onto Gaz's leg, "LET'S MAKE US SOME BISCUITS!"

The force of Gir's attack on her leg, mixed with his shout caused Gaz to jump a bit, her fingers sliding off of the buttons of her handheld. The tinny "Game Over" music filled the room. Anger blazed in Gaz's eyes, her face contorting, an aura of pure evil beginning to glow around her.

"Damn it, Gir!" She seethed.

The robot looked up at her cutely, and then a hole opened up in the top of his suit. Reaching into his head, he produced a small cupcake. "Want a cupcake?" He asked, holding the pastry out to her.

She continued to hold her glare for a few moments and then sighed, seeming to deflate as the anger left her. "I give up." She resigned, closing the clamshell of her consol and taking the offered snack. I was amazed. I guess no one could resist Gir's insane adorableness.

"So Zim," Gaz began, taking the wrapper off of the small cake, "what are you doing here, anyhow. I thought you and Dib were 'mortal enemies' or something." Her eyebrows raised a bit, her face brightening in interest, "Are you going to strangle him in his sleep?"

"There is no honor in killing a weakened opponent." Zim answered, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Too bad." She mused, tossing the wrapper to Gir who caught and ate it in one move, "Well then, again, what are you doing here?" She took a bite of the cupcake and immediately spit it back out, her face screwed up in a look of utter disgust. "GIR! Is there TUNA in this cupcake?" She asked, horrified.

"I MADE IT MYSELF!" The sir unit explained, jumping up and consuming the cake out of Gaz's hand, almost taking the appendage with it. He smiled up at her, revealing a mouthful of mush.

"You're disgusting."

"YAY!" Gir answered, not fully understanding, earning another glare from Gaz as she wiped her hand on her plaid skirt.

"I am here because I want to make sure that your PRIMATIVE medical equipment doesn't damage the Dib-Worm any further." Zim answered, obviously unaware of the exchange that had just taken place, "I need him functioning properly if I am to prove my UTTER SUPERIORITY!" He turned to face her, stopping his pacing for the moment. "And what of you, Gaz-human, why are you here if you wish to see the Dib DESTROYED so badly?"

"Dad's making me stay and keep watch until he can find a cure, or something." She grumbled.

"Interesting." Zim answered. He gave my sister an analyzing look, "You know, Gaz, in my research I've noticed that normally human worm babies develop a DISGUSTING attachment to other members of their family unit."

"So?" Gaz asked, between gritted teeth.

"So, then why do you wish to see your brother in so much DELICOUS agony at the hands of ZIM?"

Gaz sighed, "There are always deviations from the norm, Zim." She explained. She paused a bit, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I guess he's ok." She stated, "But his stupid obsession with the paranormal just annoys the hell out of me. I mean, he had always been interested in it, but that interest just seemed to consume him after Mom died. It was like he was looking for a way to bring her back, and he just can't! I pisses me off."

"Hmmm, so the death of this parental unit is what caused the Dib-Worm's OBSESSION with all things paranormal, huh? Interesting." Zim mused, rubbing his chin.

"Yeah, whatever." Gaz answered, picking up her GameSlave, obviously ending her part of the conversation. She pause, however, before turning on the consol. "Oh, and Zim?"

"Hmm?" The alien answered, still lost in his own thoughts.

She fixed him with a steely glare. "If you use that information that I just told you against Dib, so help me I will plunge you into a nightmare world from which there will be no escape."

Something in her tone must have gotten through to the alien, because he stared at her, wide eyed comprehension and horror on his face, "Right. Of course." He answered.

Gaz glared at him for a few more moments and then nodded, turning back to her game. She quickly became immersed in it and all conversation ended. Zim began, once again, his frustrated pacing, and Gir began to break dace across the cold linoleum floor.

"You know, by now most people would have made idiots out of themselves by trying to get their loved ones' attentions." J's voice stated behind me. I jumped, startled. I didn't know he was there.

I shrugged in response. "I watch a lot of movies. I know they can't see me. Besides, Gaz wouldn't have talked that much if she knew I was here."

He nodded in understanding and then jerked his head in Gaz's direction, "So, is what she said true? You started being obsessed with the paranormal after you mother died?"

I nodded, "Yeah, but that wasn't the reason. I knew that I couldn't bring her back, no matter how long I searched for a way, just like Dad wasn't able to find her a cure, no matter how long he stayed down in his lab, experimenting. I really just…wanted to find her. I wanted to know that she was alright, wherever she was. While IW as searching for her, I found all sorts of other things that needed to be exposed and explained, and one thing just kinda led to another." I shrugged, "Sounds pretty dumb, huh?"

J shook his head, "No, not at all." He answered.

"Yeah, well…"I trailed off, not wanting to continue the conversation. It was then that a thought hit me. "Hey! If all that happened was that my soul separated from my body, then why can't I just, you know, jump back into it?"

J frowned. "You'd think it'd be that easy, but it's not." He answered.

"Why not?"

"Well…" He paused, "This would probably be easier to explain at the restaurant. Again he snapped his fingers and again we were instantly transported. I landed in my seat with a little jerk. Erin stood at the table, a bemused expression on her face.

"Hey, there you guys are!" She greeted, "I was just about to clear your glasses."

"Sorry about that Erin," J apologized, "We had to go visit Dib's body. Now I get to tell him the 'good part'."

Erin's scrunched up her nose, pursing her lips cutely, "Ick. I hate the 'good part'." She stated.

I was confused, "What's wrong with the 'good part'? I mean…it's good right?"

Their matching expressions of pity showed me more than words could about how wrong I was.

Erin shook her head and then laid a piece of paper on the table. "They're take care of this up front whenever you're ready." She looked at me, a sad smile on her face, "If you make it far enough, I'll be seeing you soon, kid. Good Luck!" She wished. She turned to J and nodded who gave a slight nod in return and then she turned and left, moving to bus the dishes off of another table.

I turned to J after the girl had left, "What does she mean, by 'If I make it far enough'? Why do I need luck? What's so bad about this 'good part'?" I picked up the paper that Erin had left, "And why do we have to pay for things in the afterlife?"

"We don't." J answered, taking the paper from my hand, "Not here, anyhow. If you had been sentenced to hell then you would have it, if only because those people don't know how to give up the ways of the living. This, however, is just Erin's idea of a joke. See? It's blank." He held the paper out to me. It was indeed empty.

He signed and took a drink of his soda, "As for the other questions, well. The 'good part' is that in order to be reinstated back into your body you have to prove that you're worthy?"

"What?"

"The Powers That Be don't want to bother themselves with corrupted souls. Why put back something that would just cause more damage to the world? While I'm not saying that that is the case here," he quickly stated, holding his hand up to stifle the protest that had been coming out of my mouth, "you are here for a reason. The rubber in the suit you had been wearing could have easily insulated you against all of the electrical current instead of just enough to keep you alive. Which means that you are here for a reason, whether it be that your soul is corrupted somehow, or you need to learn something in order to continue to grow in the waking world, you have to pass the Seven Tests in order to be put back into your body."

"Seven Tests?" I repeated. This was becoming very complicated very quickly.

"Yes., the Seven Tests of the Seven Sins. You've heard of the Seven Deadly Sins, right?"

Finally, something I knew, "Uh-huh—Gluttony, Greed, Pride, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Lust, right?" I was slightly proud of myself for being able to answer and prove that I wasn't a complete idiot…even if I did only know them because I had seen the movie one night on HBO. But he didn't need to know that.

"Right. Good. Even though I have a feeling you only knew that because of that one film." He answered, a small smile on his face. Oops, ok, so maybe he did know that. I must have looked guilty because he chuckled a bit good naturedly. "Don't look so sheepish, Dib. It doesn't matter where you know the information from, just as long as you know what your up against.

"Now here is the nature of the Tests. You're going to be put into seven different situations, each embodying the essence of one of the Seven Sins. At some point during the scenario, you will be presented with a decision. If you make the right decision and resist the temptation of the sin, you pass and get to move onto the next Test."

"And…if I make the wrong decision?"

"You're soul stays in that scenario until your body dies in the material world. Then, depending on the severity of the sin, you will more than likely be cast into hell for eternity."

I gulped. That sounded like a pretty severe punishment for one bad decision. However, something bothered me, "But…that can't be that hard, right? I mean I know that it's a test. All I have to do it watch out to see what sin I'm stuck in and then make the opposite decision. Right?"

"Nope."

"Oh." I muttered, my hopes deflated.

"Each scenario is kind of like an alternate universe. There is a Dib in every one, a Dib that is exactly like you, but changed a bit depending on events that may or may not have happened in his life. When you enter each of the tests you will become each Dib, absorbing his memories and such. To you, it will just seem like another day in your life. You will have no memory of who you truly are at all. You will just have to trust yourself to make the right decision when the time comes."

I was beginning to get nervous. The thought of having one wrong decision damn my soul to hell forever wasn't very comforting. I broke out into a cold sweat, my hands shaking.

"I don't know if I can do this, J." I stated.

"You just have to have faith in yourself, Dib. In the end, that's all that matters, anyhow." He stood, using his hands to push himself up from the table, "At any rate, we've wasted too much time already. The sooner you get started the sooner we can get you back home." He held his hand out to me. I shrank back into my seat, trying to make myself become smaller.

"I don't think I can do this." I repeated. I was acting like a child, I knew, but I was scared. That was to be expected, right?

He sighed, "Yes you can, Dib. I know it. C'mon," He put a fake smile on his face, "the only thing to fear…" he trailed off, obviously wanting me to finish the quote.

I stared at his outstretched hand and realizing that there was no way I could talk my way out of this one, took it, gasping a bit as he pulled me to my feet. "…is eternal damnation." I grumbled, dejectedly.

"That's the spirit!" J replied with false cheer, clapping me on the back. He faced me. "Are you ready?" He asked.

"No." I admitted, still shaking a bit.

"Good." He answered and snapped his fingers.

The world instantly melted away and I felt myself falling into oblivion. I tried to steel myself for whatever I was about to encounter, but I really had a bad feeling about what was to come.

---

A/n: Ugh. Finally. There's something profoundly redundant about typing a chapter all over again. It's not very fun. At all. This will teach me to quick save every few minutes. Bleh.

Ok, so it's time to play Guess That Reference! There are about four references to outside works in this chapter. Can you find them? Guess and win…a cookie. Oreo. Double Stuft, even. Yummmm. I'll prolly throw a reference or two into every chapter, if only because I think it's fun to do little things like that. Keeps my brain occupied.

Yeah, so I know, it's pretty easy to guess who J is, right? Please don't throw things. I was originally going to have Dib meet up with God, but then realized that if I'm keeping this in the "Jhonen-verse" then…God wouldn't really give a damn about Dib. He's still kinda hanging out, takin' a nap in his Lazy Boy. What would he care about one misplaced soul. Then I was thinking Johnny, or Dib's mom, but decided to go back to the God idea with a little twist. Cos if you think about it, in a way, Jhonen would be Dib's God. And hey, if I were to be in the kid's shoes, I would love to find out that my life was cooked up in some artist's head. That would make me very happy. But my apologies to Jhonen for stealing his likeness for this story. Though if you sue, the only thing that I can offer you is a messed up Tv from Goodwill and a super comfy chair with a cigarette burn in the arm, cos that's all I really own.

As stated above, see if you can guess my occupation by the location of Limbo. And if you can do that, then you can prolly guess who Erin is. (And, by proxy, my middle name). For those of you who hate SI's…I don't care. I'm going to have fun with this story, and it's really for my own personal amusement that I stick myself in. Don't worry, there isn't doing to be any fan-girl love story line between Erin and J or Dib or anyone, I really just thought it would be fun to put myself in a story. She may come back later on after a few chapters, because I have a strange scene in my head explaining J's relationship with Dib and then the nature of Fanfiction, but that won't be till 4 or 5 chapters in, yet…

But I'm rambling, and I should really go down to the computer lab and post this mofo before my computer decides to eat it or something.

Again, thank you to everyone who reviewed, I wish I could mention you all by name the way I do in FPL, but there really are too many of you to keep straight. But I love you all. As always, please continue to R and R, and flames will be consumed and enjoyed like candy. Yummy…flame candy.

-j