Invader Sideos again with more news on the front line: I've HORRIBLY DEPRESSED for the last few days…really. You have no idea how depressed. Well…maybe some of you do. But that's not the point. I have no idea why I've been depressed, but I'm going to stop being depressed. By all means necessary.

So let's slap on some Motley Crue to calm me old bones down. It's Dr Feelgood 'n' all...P.S that's where the name came from. Motley Crue's song about drug dealers, "He's the one to call, Dr Feelgood, he's the one that makes you feel alright..." So, speaking of drug dealers, be prepared to meet one in this exciting chapter of B.T!

Written to Motley Crue DVD

I don't own...you know what, let's guess shall we?

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The sky was falling. The greying night clouds had finally released their load and a new blanket of snow was now descending on the city. There was no wind to blow the snowflakes, so they fell straight down. Straight onto the heads of Zim and Shawn, who were still trudging though the city despite the lateness of the night. It had been almost a full hour since they had set off from the twenty-four hour store and still there was no drug hotel that Zim had been promised. He was beginning to think that the teenage human had lied to him.

Zim looked to his left and watched as the teenager took another intake of what he had called a cigarette and flicked the ashes to the floor.

He had been doing that for most of the journey, every time he finished one he would take out another. The smoke that came from the cigarette sometimes drifted past Zim's face, causing him to cough and growl at the boy, who would then swiftly apologise.

It happened again, a cloud of smoke drifted into Zims face and he coughed while waving it quickly away. He growled again at Shawn. "Stop doing that, filth beast. This is your last warning."

"Sorry Zim," the hooded boy quickly replied. He took another toke of his cigarette and flicked it into the snow. Zim watched as the human reached into his hoody pocket, trying to find another cig, but when he couldn't find one he swore under his breath and looked to his green skinned companion. Zim stared back coldly until he slowly said, "What?"

"Oh," Shawn snapped out of his staring and looked to the floor. "Nothing."

Zim narrowed his eyes. "No, what is it. Tell me, tell Zim," he said while drawing on his name.

The teen placed his hands into his pockets and looked away for a second before looking back at Zim, but he avoided the Irken's eyes. "I was just wondering why you have no nose...or ears."

Although he hid it, Zim was quietly surprised. No one apart from the Dib had ever noticed that flaw in his ingenious disguise before. However he smiled slyly and said, "Leprosy."

"Ahh," Shawn's eyes widened slightly, "That explains your hands then."

Again Zim was surprised; this human must be of Irken-like intelligence to notice these things. Or maybe he was in league with Dib. Zim made a mental note to later get this Shawn human checked out.

Another moment of silence between the two passed before Zim looked up at the grey, dark sky and casually asked, "Are we there yet?"

Shawn smiled and nodded. "Not long now, man. Hey, can I ask you something?"

Zim narrowed his eyes at the teenager, this human was beginning to become more annoying then Dib...well, maybe not that annoying. "What?"

"I just wanted to know," he asked rather nervously, "Why did you do it?"

Zim suddenly felt himself go on the defence. "Do what?" Although he already knew what the human meant.

Shawn stopped, causing Zim to stop a pace ahead of him. They were standing at the entrance to another alleyway, this one with no lights. He looked away, and then looked back to Zim with a great self pity in his eyes. "Why did you take the drug?"

Zim felt a shiver of internal cold run along his arms, so he folded them across his body, his left hand grasping his right elbow and his right hand slowly rubbing the spot on his left arm where he placed the syringe. He could feel his clothes stick against the clammy sweat along his skin and he cringed, this caused his claws to scrape his arms which quickly set of the itching again. He looked at the teenage junkie standing in the cold before him. Why did he take the drug? He tried to remember the exact reason why he didn't just carry on walking after Dr Feelgood had offered him his first try. He remembered how he felt so angry after the Tallest had cast him out the Empire, but also something else. Something he had only felt a few times in his long life. Something he would never admit to this boy.

"I wanted something new," Zim replied coldly and bluntly. "What about you?"

Amazingly, as he asked this, Zim really wanted to know. He had never seen or met someone who did aswermitus before, never been able to talk to someone about how he felt on, or off the drug. He had once tried to describe it to Gir but the robot simply couldn't understand, the house computer neither cared nor listened, and the robot parents were programmed to stop him from miss-behaving like that, which is why he had deactivated them until he thought it would be safe enough to turn them back on.

Zim looked at Shawn who again looked away before looking back, but never into his eyes, it seemed to be a sort of automatic reaction within the boy to do so.

"M-My step-dad used to do a lot of different stuff, he would make me hack peoples accounts to get the money. When this new drug came out of no-where he immediately got onto it. Soon it was all he was doing, it took over his life. Then it killed him. I got so depressed that I decided to try it for myself and well...here I am." He gave Zim a small, sad smile before turning swiftly to walk down the alleyway that they had been standing in front of.

Zim followed him in, all the while thinking how stupid humans really were. The child's parental unit dies of a drug and the child decides to take it up himself? Madness.

In silence the two of them walked down the dark and cold alleyway, neither wanting to say anymore on the matter. Eventually, after a few minutes of trekking though the now ankle deep snow, they came out into a sort of back street, filled with rotting houses, sleazy looking hotels and neon signs advertising the very worst in human sexual obscenity.

Zim made sure to keep his eyes straight forward when walking past the dimly glowing shops. It was bad enough putting up with the humans and their stupid primitive ways but then there were these things. What sick race of beings needed to feel pain to feel pleasure? Zim felt proud for that moment as he relished the fact that the Irken race had been long freed of such ideas. He knew that since the invention of the PAK, the hormones necessary to feel such urges had been greatly repressed. He remembered watching on TV as Irkens with PAK's that had malfunctioned to increase those hormones had been publicly executed for defective practises. He smiled to himself; he was glad that something like that had never happened to him.

He snapped out of these thoughts when Shawn held out an arm, which Zim almost walked into. He turned, again growling at the junkie, but Shawn grinned and pointed forward. Zim followed the direction to look down to the very end of the street.

Zim looked at the building, if that's what you could call it, which stood before him. It was about ten floors high and looked like it should be pulled down. Almost every window that Zim could see seemed to be either smashed in or boarded up. Around the first floor the walls were coated in graffiti and the door looked like it was hanging on with string.

There was a burnt out sign above the door that Zim read out as, "The Thunder's hotel?"

Zim turned to look at a still grinning Shawn, who nodded eagerly. "Yea, this is where me and a few other addicts live. They usually don't allow new members in, but since you saved my life 'n all, I think they'll make an exception."

Zim only hummed in musing agreement and began following Shawn into the hotel.

Together they walked through the door; or rather they lifted the door aside and put it back, and began to walk up the stairs.

As they did so Shawn explained quickly, "It's all upstairs on the third floor, it's the only floor that still has any electricity."

Zim just nodded, he was too disgusted at the state of the building around him to bother saying anything. The wallpaper was peeling of the wall, where there was any at all. Most of the inside was just was wrecked as the outside, if not more. At least outside it still had all of its walls intact. They walked across the second floor corridor to get to the last set of stairs, as part of the staircase they had been walking up had collapsed. As they did so, Zim noticed that Shawn was beginning to scratch his arms more and hold himself tighter, and realised that's that what he used to do when he knew he was getting close to his addiction source. This realisation suddenly set his hunger off, or more accurately, made it louder. He too held himself tightly as he walked, and his eyes became half lidded.

Shawn looked over to Zim and quietly said, "Almost there now, man."

Silently they walked up the last set of stairs and into the final corridor. Shawn almost ran down the hall to a door labelled sixty-five. He waited for Zim to catch up before knocking hastily several times on the door.

A moment of complete stillness passed before a rather gruff voice cautiously called out from the other side, "Who is it?"

Shawn lent toward the door and shouted back, "It's me, Shawn."

A second passed, then the door creaked open slightly, it had a small catch to stop people from barging in, which Shawn looked like he was ready to do to get to his drugs.

A pair of eyes appeared in the crack, first inspecting Shawn then falling on Zim. The person nodded and said, "Who's the green guy?"

Shawn turned to Zim, then back to the eyes at the door. "Oh, that's Zim, he saved my life and he's an on spike. I was wondering if he could kinda...stay here with us tonight?"

The eyes narrowed, staring straight at Zim, "On A are you...how much money do you have?"

Zim stared back, his own eyes narrowing, "How much are you selling it for?"

The answer was a quick, "Five hundred bucks."

Zim sneered triumphantly. "Then I have enough."

The eyes removed themselves and the door shut. From behind it there was an exchange of voices. Zim quietly wondered if he had been being ripped off for several weeks, or maybe it was inflation, or maybe this new dealer was just nice. He shook off his pondering as there was the sound of the lock being removed and the door was fully opened.

Standing there was a man with tanned, Mexican skin who looked to be in his thirties. He had a shaved head and small grey eyes. He was wearing a pair of blue, worn out jeans and a pair of workers boots. He was also wearing a white t-shirt and a brown zip up top. He looked well built, but with a large beer belly and his casual, uncaring smile gave the impression that he was somehow better then Zim and Shawn. Zim immediately didn't like this guy and he got the impression that this guy didn't like Zim either.

Shawn however walked in and quickly said, "Hi Vega"

Zim followed without saying a word.

He walked into a room that was lit with various un-covered light bulbs and was comfortably warm considering the state it was in. The walls, like the ones outside, were covered in graffiti and the parts that weren't, were ether open holes to the other rooms or where the wallpaper had pealed away to take off the marks. To his left there was a part which Zim assumed used to be a kitchen of some sort. While it did have a toaster and some normal, if rather horrid looking, kitchen utensils, it also had a counter and Zim could see several piled bin bags. Vega walked into the kitchen and proceeded to make himself something to eat, while also picking up a newspaper, which he read casually.

The room was a dull brown in the dirty lights and was littered with things that reminded Zim a little too much of his own house. Chip packets, Poop cola cans and a few McMeaties take away boxes. Around the front of the room, where some boarded up windows were, was an old and almost destroyed comfy chair as well as a few dirty looking mattresses which had a several blankets covering them. Also, mostly around the centre of the room, were a few needles and a few empty glass vials. Zim's hunger for his fix roared at the sight of the vials and needles, he had to lean heavily against a wall and bite his lip to stop himself from screaming out loud in pure addiction lust.

In the centre of the filthy room casually sat another teenager. He looked older then Shawn or Dib, a year or two perhaps. He had short blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a probably once white tank-top and a pair of tight black pants which were ripped at the knees, and on his feet where some tattered baseball trainers. He, like Zim and Shawn, was very thin but with a shadow of someone who used to be quite athletic. He was also pale with dark rings around his eyes and on his left arm was a large bruise. Zim was beginning to spot a pattern emerging.

He looked at Zim and gave a weak smile. "So you're the green guy, Zim, right?"

Zim nodded once. "And who are you?"

The boy hugged his arms around himself and shut his eyes tight. Zim watched as the addict suffered a short, but strong, shiver. When he had finished the teenager looked back at Zim and weakly said, "I'm Iggy."

Iggy turned to look rather disapprovingly at Shawn, who was removing his black hoody to reveal a dirty yellow t-shirt, and said, "So what happened? What trouble did someone else dig you out of this time?"

Shawn re-adjusted his glasses and sat down on one of the tattered mattresses directly in front of the kitchen counter and directly opposite Zim, however he still kept his bag close to hand and still refused to make any real eye contact with anyone. "I just got unlucky, that's all. Some small time gangster sent some thugs to get me. I thought I was done for 'till Zim showed up."

Iggy looked at Zim, who smiled smugly, then back as Shawn continued. "You should have seen him. This dude pointing a gun right at him and he just didn't care. He just grabs this guy's arm and snaps it in two with this kung-fu move. Then he goes and beats the crap out of this other guy and saves me."

"Only because you were an addict," Zim cruelly sneered. "Keep that in mind. If you weren't I would have walked off."

Shawn ignored this and Iggy's sniggering. He lent forward and eagerly asked, "How did you do it? I mean, what was it? Kung-fu? Karate? Where did you learn to do that?"

Without thinking Zim quickly replied, "Standard close combat training, Irken military planet of Devastis." His eyes widened the moment it finished leaving his mouth.

Iggy and Shawn both gave him a very inspecting look and Zim could feel himself tense, ready to make an escape if they even accused him of being an alien.

However Iggy just slowly said, "I think you've been on this stuff too long. It's messing with your head, man."

Shawn laughed and agreed. "Yea, you should have heard what he said before about being normal."

Zim laughed nervously, that was much too close, although he did cast a second long glare as Vega coughed something that sounded sneakily like, "Weirdo."

The Irken quickly crossed the room, skipping over the crap on the floor, before getting to a rather dirty and damaged looking mattress. It was just across from Shawn, but tucked away into the corner. Zim scowled, it was utterly unfit for someone of his greatness, but for now it would have to do. He sat down; grabbing a nearby blanket to sit on and made it clear to everyone by the way he curled his legs to his chest that he wanted to be left alone.

He listened as Iggy again began talking to Shawn, who took a half smoked cigarette from the floor.

"So anyway, I've been talking with my band. They say that they're thinking of taking me back if I can quit doing spike," he quickly explained.

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you sell your guitar for spike money?"

Iggy nodded. "Yea, but they've got one I can use. It's just that, I think it's rather hypocritical of them telling me to cut back on the drugs when their all smoking twenty spliffs a gig."

Shawn smiled slightly, "Yea, but they didn't try to secretly pawn all the band equipment to buy A, did they?"

Iggy narrowed his eyes. "Shut up."

Zim could barely suppress shouting "stu-pid stink-beast" at the blond human.

Iggy continued with a wave of a hand. "Anyway, all the greats where addicted to something. I mean, look at Joey Ramone or Nikki Sixx, they took shite more then I do and they all became famous."

Zim was suddenly confused. If what Iggy was saying was true, then humans seemed to admire and respect those that committed illegal acts such as this. He raised a non-existent eyebrow at this. What sort of psychotic culture calibrated its criminals? He rolled his eyes. Humans. There wasn't any other race in the universe so amazingly stupid. He bet that these famous people weren't even very tall.

He snorted quietly. "Barbarians."

Iggy looked over to the Irken. "What was that?"

"Oh," Zim quickly covered, "Nothing."

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Anyone else think those last few lines there are really…what's the word…contrasting? Ironic? Hypocritical?

Either way they're funny.

Ok, there's some things I wanted to have in this but it looks like it's gonna have to go into the next chapter. Namely, the Bunny Girl. She was meant to 'arrive' in this but at least this way I have more space to write about her/Zim's reaction/Zim taking drugs summore in the next chapter.

That's right kiddies; I'm selling out to 'romance'. Hate me. BUT as usual this isn't real love! Its drug fuelled hallucination love! In-fact, its more accurate to say it's more like primal attraction then love…love don't even come to the equation.

Ok, names. The 'Thunders Hotel' is from the legend Johnny Thunders, one of THEE greatest punk rockers ever and one of the most hardcore heroin addicts in the rock 'n' roll world. A massive shame he's dead, he only ever produced one album but there are still a few great live albums. R.I.P Johnny.

Vega, from Pulp Fiction's Vincent Vega, there's a scene where he takes heroin so I though, meh, why not?

Iggy...look do I even need to say where that came from? For the very dim of you it's the man whose music practically made this fic, the one, the only, Iggy Pop.

So, R&R o'loyal reader! P.S This was all written in one day…