(Hello, and welcome to my newest Invader Zim fan fiction. I'm sad to reply that there will be no Zim in the first few chapters, but he will be in the fic….um….after I get through the first 3 weeks of the fic….it won't take that long, I hope….and if someone can offer up a better name, please suggest it, because the current one is pretty lame personally….anyway, on to the very randomly written story!)

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"What the hell do you think you're doing? Left! LEFT! Your other left!" shouted a girl at a boy who was trying to drum and mark time at the same time, "You call yourself a drummer? STOP!" the boy stopped and looked up at his superior. "Look, just go practice it a while…come back to me when you get it…"

"Hut!" the boy shouted, and then quickly went off to work on what he was given.

"Freshman…" sighed the girl. She was a fair height, (compared to the boy) with long, dark purple hair that was tied into a pony-tail. She wore Goth-like shorts and a black Matallica Tee-shirt. Both of her ears were pierced twice and had Celtic looking studs in the upper two and small blue-purple spiky hoops in the bottom two. A silver Celtic knot hung around her neck and a small drum charm hung around her right wrist. "Sometimes being a section leader suck ass…Next!"

Freshman try-outs, always a fun experience. The next freshman to come into the practice room was, again, short. He was Goth, always a bonus to her, and wore a black trench coat that dragged on the ground a little. He wore a black Tee-shirt, from what she could tell, black pants, black boots, not bad for a freshman. He had glasses and his hair went into a scythe on the top of his head. His drum stick were wrapped with black electrical tape, apparently he liked everything black, the only thing that wasn't black that was on him or was carrying, was his light complexion and the tips of his sticks.

"I'm sorry, I haven't practiced as much as I should have over the summer…I was busy…" he said.

"Can I ask why, Freshy?" replied the girl, 'Please don't let this be Dib…'

"I was trying to save the world from being taken over by an alien…" said the boy, unwavering, "Almost got him, to…"

'Great, I got stuck with the crazy…Damn, why couldn't he have played Bass?' she sighed. "Fine, whatever. Just play your diddles and the audition piece. Mark them all…" 'Punk, if he's bad, I'll stick him in the pit and then they can deal with him…'

"Should I dut off?" asked Dib.

"No, just play at whatever speed you want…" replied the girl.

"Any particular beat?" Dib asked again.

"Just play the damn diddles, Freshy!" she said sternly. Dib complied and started to play. For a freshman, he played pretty well, only a few minor tempo issues. He finished and awaited the command to go onto the audition piece. She nodded and he started. The audition piece forced whoever played it to count. Riddled with time and tempo changes, and some of the hardest patterns for a freshman to play and mark to. And he just went through it like he played this piece all his life.

When he had finished, he brought in his sticks in a normal fashion and held them both in one hand down at his side. He stood there at attention until she gave the ok to stand at ease. She looked at her list of names that she had on a clipboard and put a check-mark next to his name.

Dib Membrane," she said extending her hand, "Welcome to the Marching Hawks Drumline."

"I…I made the line?" he asked, shaking her hand.

"You sure did, people who get on this line earn it. So, what do you wish to play?" asked the girl.

"Well, I really wanted to play snare…" said Dib.

"Done." said the girl, "You'll now be under my command. My names Kat, other wise known as the Drumline mother."

"Nice to meet you." said Dib.

"Yes, now go help the other noobs with their problems, probie." said Kat.

"Eh?" said Dib, not fully understanding what she was saying.

"You know more than any sophomore here. Go help the other freshman with their timing issues, marching problems, etc. Go, now! Move it! Move it! Move it!" she said almost yelling. Dib quickly high tailed it out of there. "Next!"

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"Ok, drum captains are me and him…" she gestured over to a rather tall senior with blond hair, "Chuck, and Beth…Section leaders are as follows, Pit: B.G., Sam, David, Tommy. Quad/Tenor: Me, Mike, Tory, Beth. Bass: Brad, Jeff, Drew. And finally, Snare: Chuck, Chris, Liz…and Dib…"

"You made a freshman a section leader?" asked one of the juniors.

"Hey, it wasn't just me, Chuck and Beth heard him play to, not to mention it was Helm's decision…" snapped Kat. That sure shut them up.

"You made me a section leader?" Dib said happily. A big goofy smile started to cross his face.

"What are you doing? Drummers never smile when good things happen to them…or in pictures. Get rid of it…" said Kat like it was common knowledge, "And like I said, the only reason he's a section leader is because he can drum and of you juniors into the ground!"

"Woo! You guys got burned!" shouted one of the nearby freshman.

"Oh, shuddap. If it weren't for your marching, you wouldn't even be on the line." Kat snapped and the boy was silent. She whispered something to Chuck and he smiled evilly and chuckled.

"CODE RED!" all the former line members became a raging mob and encircled Dib. Before he knew what was going on, he was being picked up and hauled off. The line went to the nearest trash can and plopped Dib into the trash can. As soon as they were done, they dispersed to go off and do their own thing. Kat was laughing heartily and started helping him out of the trash can.

"Don't worry about that. It doesn't happen very often. Helm is always watching us like a hawk, no pun intended." (Get it? They're marching Hawks? He watches then like a Hawk? Ok, really bad joke, but I thought it was funny….)

"Who's Helm?" asked Dib, struggling to get out of the trash can.

"Oh, just Mr. Helm, the Drumline instructor for the high school." Said Kat, not really paying attention.

"Mr…Helm…you're joking, right?" asked Dib, starting to wonder if joining the line was a good idea or not.

Mr. Helm. The Drumline instructor for the high school. Prone to anger and a very scary person when he doesn't have his coffee. Of course, his reputation precedes him. All the line members know he's not that bad. Sure, he'll jump up and down, yell and scream, maybe even throw a drumstick or two in your direction, but hey, it's not all that bad…is it?

"Oh, come on, you don't believe all those stories, do you?" asked Kat as she patted him down to get rid of all the dust. "Rule one, always look good. You'll be fine. Just…don't screw up or make him mad, and you might live to see WGI." She chuckled a little. "Now go and get ready, he'll be here shortly."

She went off to her quad. A large, four drum instrument, each drum was tuned in a different pitch. She started doing simple crossovers and two drum run rolls. Dib was amazed by just these simple techniques, and became astonished when her playing got faster and more difficult. Sure, he had seen these from professional Drum cores, but nothing like that from a high school line. It just amazed him.

"Aw, c'mon Kat! You're slacking off!" said Tory as he strapped up on his quad. He motioned for her to do the same.

"Me? A slacker? I hear challenge!" she said, preparing her hands for a work out.

"You did!" said Tory doing the same. "Digga Burr ok with you?"

"Fine." She counted off and it began. Digga Burr is a rolling exorcise, and eventually gets so fast that it sounds just like its name. (Go to Vic for Details!)

Pretty soon, Tory couldn't keep up and fumbled his sticks. But Kat when on and on, until she heard a very familiar yell.

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(Chapter one completed. This is basically just a pilot, so if you guys like it review and tell me so! So that I can put up the next chapter! And if you haven't already done so, go read my other story! It's also not done! And I like reviews on that one to! So mwahahaha! I retire for now….)