I'm back, still keep both my Author's Notes in mind… pretty please with sugar on top. Awesome. Anyway, on with the show. Oh yeah, I haven't really decided if I want to give Dib some sort of Multiple Personality Disorder yet, I mean it certainly seemed as if I was going in that direction last chapter. But just in case, italicized means either normal thoughts of the logical/computer-brain part of his personality, or anybody else's thoughts. Italiciized Bold means that it is the more peaceful, ditzy, child part of his mind. Also, note the difference in usage between brain and mind. So yeah. Now I'm done with Author's Notes.

Dib woke up, not in a soft bed, like he thought he would, or even sprawled across the floor. And he didn't wake up to the bell, or people talking over him about his fate. In fact, he didn't even wake up to a bug skittering across some part of his anatomy. Nothing so melodramatic; what Dib woke up to was the feeling of cold metal against his back and his head, and the feeling of being poked in the arm. Dib frowned and debated opening his eyes; the last he had opened them, he had been confronted with something that was impossible and he wasn't about to move that memory out of the Possible Hallucinations due to Head Trauma bin, and yet…his thought was interrupted by another poke, this time on his forehead. Without opening his eyes, Dib growled out, "Stop with the incessant poking"

The poking stopped, only for his ears to assaulted by some gibberish in a tone very reminiscent of some of the cursing heard in the hallway, and by a voice that was even more familiar than that. Dib's eyes snapped open. "Zim," he growled.

"Dib." Zim acknowledged.

Dib put his hand on the ground and slowly pushed himself up. He sneered, "What were you doing Zim"

Zim looked confused for a second, and then narrowing his eyes defensively, "I was checking to see if you were dead Dib-stink. For if you were, then victory would have been mine, all for Zim."

Dib levered himself into a standing position, raised his head and smirked. "Victory, all for you Zim? Well, if you don't move, very soon, the only victory here will be mine."

Zim quirked an eyebrow. "Really? It seems to me, Dib, that, like always you are completely unprepared for ….this." So saying, he whipped out an alien gun and started laughing maniacally. Unlike, in the fourth grade where at this point Dib would usually panic, he just narrowed his eyes and waited.

BBBRRRRRiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnggggggg. Too intent on the death stare match and almost friendly banter, Zim did not notice the end-of-lunch bell, or the low rumble coming from around the corner. Dib, on the other hand, smirked, grabbed his backpack from where it had fallen on the ground, and started running. Turning around, he yelled, "We will finish this, Zim. Outside of school, right after school."

Zim gave a confused glance to Dib. Is he nuts? Suddenly, the rumble turned into a full out roar. As Zim slowly turned the other way, his eyes widened in horror. Oh…s-. Before he could complete the thought, Zim was completely bowled over by the after-lunch crowd. All that was let was a twitching, moaning mass of green skin and plastic eyeballs.

Could the clock go any slower? Well, yes-, uh rhetorical question. Duh. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dib turned his attention once more to his History teacher. One of the most boring teachers on Planet Earth. And it didn't help out that Zim just happened to be in the class. Dib directed a glance towards Zim, who feeling the unexpressed wish that he would drop dead, turned to stare at Dib. Their eyes met and then Dib glanced again at the clock. Darnit. 10 minutes left. Ugh, I need to get out of here soon. Maybe if I…hmmm. Absolutely not. Education, especially history, is very important. I forbid it-.

"Excuse me sir…I, uh, seem, to have, uh, um, have, a, bad, case, of the…hiccups. Yeah."

A weary sigh. "Very well Dib, you may leave class early. Remember to do your reading on chapter seventy-two."

"Thanks. I will" And a rush of air was all that remained of Dib.

Another sigh. Why did all the smart students tend to do that? Speaking of which, the boy with the weird skin disease also had his hand raised. "Yes, Zim"

"May I also leave? I too, seem to have these hiccups." Honestly. Although Zim could be more likely categorized in the over-zealous group than the historically smart group. Sometimes, it was like Zim had never lived on Earth. But, hiccups were dangerous. "Yes Zim, you may also leave. However, I do expect to see that late essay tomorrow. As well as the reading. Got it." "Sir, yes sir. I have got it." Ignoring the giggles that had cropped up due to Zim's deference to authority, Zim rushed out to chase Dib.

Unfortunately, by the time Dib had rushed to get all his technology to prove Zim was actually an alien, and Zim had found a clever way to destroy the puny Earthling and make it look like an accident, and they had found each other outside of school, there were only thirty seconds left until school officially got out for the day.

Zim, not to be taken by surprise again, sneered. "Foolish human. Did you really think I, a mighty Irken, would tricked by the same trick again. Well, you were wrong, primitive Dib. I will not. So, I shall see you…tomorrow." So saying, Zim turned around and ran outside the school gates at which point he turned around and yelled, "I am not running away. I am just…going to home to find a more finalized and glorified way to kill you." He laughed maniacally for five seconds and then scampered off to his base of operations in the cul-de-sac. Dib was left there in the schoolyard with five seconds to muse confusedly until the swarm of high school students surged around him and made it impossible to think.

Wow. That was…pretty…AWFUL. I mean, god-Awful with a capital 'A.' If you agree or disagree, tell me. PS. Thanks for all the awesome, (and by awesome, I mean four) reviews I've already gotten. You four rock.