"NOOO! NOOOOOO! NOT THE TACOS!"

"Yes, the tacos! Grah, I need to get to skool, GIR! I'm already late!"

"BUT NOT THE TACOS!"

"YES, THE TACOS. Maybe if you hadn't spent all morning making them and singing that horrible song about cucumbers, you would have woken me up on time!"

"BUT … THE TACOS!"

"HOW ELSE ARE YOU GONNA LEARN!"

Zim dumped an entire tray of tacos down the enlarged trash compactor and turned back to scowl evilly at GIR, his eye twitching with obvious irritation. GIR ran around the room, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs until he ran into a wall and toppled over. With a groan of frustration, Zim just flung the tray into the trash compactor as well, running to the door. "I'm already LATE because of you, you incompetent robot!" he shouted as he slammed the door behind him, bolting down the street as fast as his tiny, Irken legs could carry him. "The teacher drone is going to murder me!"

(later that day)

Zim wasn't too far off. The second he opened the door to the classroom, he had a mouthful of snarling, white fangs in his face. He let out a yelp and fell back against the door, recoiling into a cringe.

"You're LATE," Mrs. Bitters spat, pointing to his seat and suddenly appearing back in her desk chair. "That's two nights of detention from you, Zim! Or … you can just bang your head against your desk for a while."

"BLUARGH! ZIM DOESN'T STAND FOR SUCH ABUSE!" Zim shouted angrily, waving his fists into the air. Mrs. Bitters simply had to snarl in his face, and he darted to his seat, peering timidly over the surface at her with a squeak. She squinted an eye as he groaned and began to smack his forehead against the surface of the desk, and turned to the class.

"Now, class," she growled to the room, rubbing her hands together as she made herself audible over the loud 'thunk'ing of Zim's head. "The administration has given a HORRIBLE new project this year about humans' body parts. I have decided to pick the partners just to make the experience more horrible for you! Now. The partners will go as follows. Zita! You are with Brian!"

Brian and Zita both let out a whoop of joy. At least they were with someone they liked!

"NO. YOU'RE TOO HAPPY," Mrs. Bitters screeched suddenly over their squeals, and they immediately fell silent. "Brian! Go with Keef! And Zita! Go with Mary!"

Both let their heads hang as they dragged their feet over to their partners. Keef just pulled at his teeth and started giggling insanely. Mrs. Bitters glanced over at him with a scowl, to which he automatically responded by forcing a frown. It looked like it was causing him physical pain. "Anyway… Dib!" she shouted. "You are going to be with…" She scanned the room, looking through all the disgusted faces and pointing at each one to try to decide which one to put him with. Her eyes finally settled on the seat all the way to her left on the first row, and she pointed sharply at him. "You're with Zim!"

There was an abnormally loud 'thunk!' and an outraged squawk as Zim looked up from his punishment, utter disgust overtaking his features. "WHAT!" Dib cried, waving his arms around maniacally. "Uh, actually, I mean … Woo! Yay! Zim's my favorite person ever!" He randomly pulled out maracas and started shaking them in feigned happiness. All at once, Mrs Bitters was leaning over his desk, glaring down at the maracas. Her eyes seemed illuminated in the dim light of the room, and it was enough to make Dib stop at once.

"Nice try," Mrs Bitters scoffed as she snaked back over to her desk, starting to rattle off more names for partners. Dib just threw the maracas onto the ground and scowled bitterly into the wall, wishing for skool to be over.

(later that day)

"Just because we're partners on this … PROJECT … doesn't mean I have to like you, Dib!" Zim spat into the ground as the two of them walked side by side from the skool yard, Zim's hands clenched so tightly into fists that he could feel his claw-like fingers digging into his flesh.

"I didn't say anything about you liking me…" Dib said slowly, looking up from the book he had cradled in his left arm. "Look, I hate this just as much as you. So let's just get this over with already, and with the least amount of pain possibly, okay?"

Zim squinted as he noted Dib holding out his hand for Zim to shake, and crossed his arms. "The last time I shook your hand … you turned me into baloney."

"You tried to turn me into baloney first!" Dib cried, flailing around hysterically. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "See, this is exactly what I mean! We're already fighting!"

"Well, maybe if you didn't try to turn your partner into b-"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT THE BALONEY THING!"

The two stood across from each other, fuming and breathing heavily. Dib screwed up his face into a snarl and held out his hands again. "Truce? For now? Please?"

Zim contorted his facial features into a look of sheer physical pain, and finally just shook Dib's hand. "Fine," he spat, recoiling his hand as though he'd been burned. "Now. Let's go to your house."

"My house? Why my house!"

"Well, you're obviously not going to MY house!"

"Fine! We'll go to my house!"

"Good! That's what I thought!"

"But next time, we're going to your house!"

"Hah! You just try!"