Well, Megan sent me 21 e-mails so you guys finally get your update! Yay!

emma: Thanks!

DibMagician: They are miserable little children. Hopefully we can solve that by the end of the story. And yeah, I agree with what you said about DoomReviewer.

Dibsthe1: Exactly! It's funny on the show, but on this site they take Gaz beating on Dib waaay too far and it gets annoying. But thank you! And don't worry; the ending will be a surprise.

Maran Zelda: Thank you!

emma: Don't worry, I'll finish. And thanks.

Nolay: Ha, yeah I hate when no one's online. But thanks for reviewing!

Invader Zim and every character related to it belong to the all-mighty Jhonen Vasquez. And don't you just love picturing his cringing little face while reading all our horrible goblin-child fics? I know I do. Strawberry however, belongs to me.

"Are you sure you didn't see where he went? He was only in here an hour ago."

"No, I've already told you I didn't see him."

Stupid, I know Dib was in here an hour ago, a whole hour, how can you not remember seeing someone within an hour, and some stupid manager can't even tell where he went!

"Now, if you could please, if you're not going to buy anything-?"

I hear you, but if you can't even tell me where my stupid brother went, I'm not leaving.

He was still motioning towards the exit. Idiot. If he was going to mess with me, I was going to mess with him.

"Hey, who said I wasn't going to buy anything?" I stared up at him, waiting, knowing I was killing him.

"Well, umm...you just don't seem like the type to, well, umm..."

"I don't seem like what type? The type to come into a perfume store?"

He nodded.

"You're real good at keeping customers, huh?"

I walked past him hoping he wouldn't follow. He didn't but I could just picture him hoping up and down on the balls of his feet, biting his lip, wishing he could get rid of me and all the kids that walk in here. Well too bad.

Wait, why the heck did I stay in here anyway? Just to annoy that guy? Well what was I gonna do now? I couldn't just walk out and make that jerk happy, but what was I gonna do?

That's when I saw it. It was this one section, it had this particular look to it, like I had seen it before or something and then it dawned on me and I had to go see.

Yes I admit, I had to go see. I hate my mother with all my heart for so many reasons, but I had to go see if they still sold it. I might even buy a bottle, for Dib of course.

I walked toward it slowly; I didn't want to look like some freak running around excited about perfume. Plus, there was a woman where the perfume was supposed to be.

She seemed like an odd woman, well, she was acting odd. She was holding her head at a weird angle like she didn't want anyone to see her and she had a long trench coat on. It was tan, but other than that, it looked just like Dib's. Same stitching and everything.

Then I saw it. The lady, she held, in her hand, the last perfume bottle. I couldn't let her have it, that was Dib's! I'd have to get it somehow. Maybe ask her if I could see it, then run. Yeah, that would work. Act all cute and then run. Shouldn't be that hard.

"Excuse me ma'am?" I said in my most charming voice. "Could I see that bottle of perfume really quick? I believe that's the kind my mother likes, and since you have the last bottle, maybe I could see it, so I would know what it looks like in another store."

Wow, that sounded stupid.

"They don't sell it anywhere else."

She didn't turn around or anything, just kept her head down. Stupid lady, I wanted that perfume!

"Well, could I at least see it? My mother, she's dead, and it would make me feel so much better to see her perfume again."

That caught the woman's attention. Yes, cheesiness does pay off. But when she turned around, everything stopped. Just stopped.

I couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't breath. Then one thought entered my mind; how dare you?

It got louder and louder just repeating over and over; how dare you? How dare you? How dare you?

Then before I knew what I was doing I was screaming at her and crying and feeling so much emotion. But the one I felt the most, was anger.

"HOW DARE YOU?" I screamed, grabbing the bottle of perfume from her hands and throwing it on the ground.

"HOW DARE YOU?" I shook her by the shoulders my tears falling onto her trench coat. Then I realized where the trench coat had come from and I ripped it off her throwing it onto the ground, onto the spilled perfume.

"Do you know what you've done to him?" Now it was sadness and the tears, I knew, they wouldn't stop.

She looked up at me; so much sadness in her eyes and it made me angry all over again.

"You're sad?" I screamed in her face.

"YOU'RE SAD? WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO BE SAD? WHAT RIGHT DID YOU HAVE TO HURT HIM? WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DO THAT?"

And here he comes running, that stupid manager. But no, he doesn't stop to say anything to us; he stoops down on the ground, his stupid short dress pants showing his stupid white socks. He's reading the perfume label! I can't believe it, he doesn't care about us, he cares about his precious perfume! But then he says something that makes me stop. He says what I've wanted to scream and holler for sometime. He says the one word that shows so much love and so much hate all at once, you don't know how to feel. There he was, crouching down in perfume, and he says it.

"Strawberries..."