The day had been hot enough to melt all intentions away into a puddle of blissfully relaxing nothing. Formerly dedicated to filling out college applications and studying for the SATs, Dib had ended up spending the day with two of his best friends--Jenna and Josh--at the beach, the 7-11, and finally the roof of his house where the three of them were laying back, staring at the stars.

Jenna was whispering with Josh, which wasn't all that unusual considering their new relationship. Dib wasn't paying much attention, his eyes wandering the sky above and his heart stopping every time he saw a light moving. It's just a satellite dummy, he would tell himself as flashes of memories shot through his head. He was able to give up most of his former life in the past six years. He donated most of his notes and paranormal paraphernalia to the Swollen Eyeballs before finally cutting off all contact with them. He let his sister eat the remainder of his haunted gummy bear collection. But all his notes and research on Zim remained locked up between an obscure folder in his computer and a cashbox in his closet with a child-like drawing of a house on the top.

"I don't know, why don't you ask him yourself?"

Josh's voice pulled Dib from his thoughts and he looked over to the happy couple. They both appeared to be rather irritated and Jenna was blushing; blushing enough that Dib could see it in the dark.

"You're such a baby," Josh said to her and then propped himself up on his elbows to talk over her at Dib. "She wants to know why you have so many scars?"

And there it was, the reason -- before today -- that Dib never went to the beach or hung outside on hot days. He had always played for the "shirts" team, or cried homework and stayed in the cool A.C. of his own house on hot days. Today, however, he had succumbed to the heat and peer pressure (not to mention the broken A.C.) and gone to the beach.

Dib ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking up in every direction since swimming. His scythe was especially prominent now, even though he had cut his hair short and spiky at the beginning of high school. Looking at the ground before his crossed legs, he scratched absentmindedly at a mosquito bite on the back of his neck. "I uh, got most of them as a kid; before I moved here. There was someone in my class I didn't get along with very well and we fought a lot." Shrugging off any further details, and making a conscious effort to stop fidgeting, he changed position and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"Yeah but..." Jenna paused, "some of them don't look normal. The one on your side looks like a hand print..."

"Heh," Dib laughed as his hand traveled to his right side where a small, pink, claw-like handprint remained. "Acid burn. The others are lasers." The couple was looking at him in disbelief as he elaborated, "My dad's a scientist. I had access to things I probably shouldn't have been playing with in sixth grade."

"Oh," Jenna replied and shot Josh a disbelieving look. "I never pegged you as the fighting type."

"I'm not!" Dib interjected quickly and returned to the mosquito bite. "They were silly, childish games that got out of hand."

"Well, whatever man. It's good to know if we get attacked by laser-wielding aliens or something you've got our backs." Josh laughed at his joke but the only reply Dib could think of was, you have no idea.


The three spent only a few minutes more on the roof after that. As Dib walked them downstairs and to the front door he was met with a picture on the television of his old Skool, smoking and half-obliterated.

Gaz was sitting on the couch, Game Slave half-forgotten in her lap.

"What are you watching?" Dib stopped on the last step as the scene changed to the familiar old MacMeaties, though the only identifiable part was the sign on the corner. The voice off-screen was talking about the 'biggest terrorist attack in years' and 'officials have yet to find any leads'.

"What do you think it is, stupid? The scary monkey show?" Gaz turned around, dangly skull earrings brushing her cheek below short-cropped hair. "It's the NEWS, Dib."

Dib rolled his eyes and thought it best not to ask what was happening -- all the pictures made it quite obvious. The screen changed again to a mess of rubble and panned out to reveal his old neighborhood. Dib's eyes widened as he quickly realized whose house that pile of rubble had been.

"Wow. That sucks," Jenna said in awe at the television screen.

"Dude," Josh pulled himself away from the slideshow of destruction and turned to his friend, "didn't you used to live in that town?"

Before Dib could reply, Gaz cut in with a callus laugh. "That town? We used to live in that house!" Her voice was higher than normal.

As the pictures flashed before his eyes the newscaster droned on. 'The attack lasted only a short time; each building seemed to explode simultaneously with no warning. There doesn't seem to be a pattern; no federal buildings were harmed and there have been no further attacks.'

Dib's cell rang and he was prepared to ignore it until Gaz spoke up distractedly. "It's been the same thing every five minutes since the newscast started. Number unknown."

Dib's heart sank into his stomach as he moved to pick it up. 'Number Unknown' was written in block letters on the indiglo background of the screen. He shot a look to Josh, flipped it open and held it to his ear. He was expecting the inhumane laughter from his memory, but could only hear silence on the other end. It was probably just dad then, calling to tell them of the attack.

"Hello?"

"Dib-Stink."

The human gave an involuntary shudder and turned away from the small group of people in his living room to compose himself. "Hello Zim."

There was a pause as the tiny terrorist apparently expected him to say something along the lines of 'why are you calling?' or 'miss me?'

"I hear the authorities have no leads." His voice sounded dry, like it was about to crack.

The laughter on the other end wasn't the maniacal sort he was expecting, but it was still a cold and humorless chuckle. "Dib! You have no idea in your dirty little human brain what you have done." Dib had to smile as the familiar voice moved up in pitch on the last word. "These 'authorities' are no real adversary. All my previous genius plans have gone unnoticed. I had to sink to their stinking filthy level of bombs." Zim spit out the last word as if it held a sour taste. "No one appreciates all my planning, all my hard work," he cooed in his alien voice, "like you."

For a moment Dib wondered if he had finally gone crazy and this whole scenario was playing itself out in his big, big head. And then he realized his head wasn't disproportionably big any longer, and it was Zim who had gone crazy.