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Bad, Grotesque, Horrendous	By : thedocrots Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Crossover Views: 3240 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Dib in the Garbage
- 1
Hello, all you happy people. Now, before you start reading this story, I must let you know what it is intended for so that you don’t come after me with pitchforks and guillotines and crap, thus the ridiculously long intro. After I became interested in such things as Invader Zim and JTHM (I’ll tell you now that I own neither of them) last August, I looked around the internet for associated stuff to entertain my brain, and I sure got it. What I found were the horrible travesties of the canon stories that we all know exist. And that one violently fluffy JTHM crossover… oh Christ… In any case, the mere CONCEPT of such a romance occurring was hideous, to say the least; if that weren’t enough, the writing style was terrible, all adding up to an undeniably HILARIOUS fic. The unintended comedy of this so-called “tragedy,” with the added weight of bad ZADRs that slapped the two poor saps together so that girlies could drool when they made out, inspired me. They really did. And this fanfiction is the result. In short, it’s bad on purpose, thus the title. I’m sure we’ve all read a really bad fic or two. Or more, most likely. If you have ever visited godawful.net, this whole first paragraph is unnecessary. Alright, I’ll shut up.
But not yet! I have more to tell you! While this story of sorts was in production (it still is, actually), one of my friends (you know who you are) introduced me to the music of Mindless Self Indulgence. (Actually, I found out about them through Jhonen’s video, but… eh, whatever.) Like many other fans have done with music, I was somehow able to connect these usually strange lyrics to the story I was (am) writing. I couldn’t help myself. Fans will probably either laugh, be irritated, or be pissed. I expect as much. Hopefully, the quotes will make this fiction worse. So, if anyone can pick out the lyrics and song titles that I’ve woven into the story, (and which I do not own), then whoever gets the most might get a prize, or… something Cool. I’ll list all of the quotes in the last chapter.
Disclaimer: Please note that this story is a parody of fanfiction in general, and not of any particular story or stories. I do NOT own Invader Zim or any of the characters, settings, props, unique words, jokes, foods, feet, colors, shapes, amoeba, sound effects, et cetera from that particular show. I also do NOT own Mindless Self Indulgence or any of their songs, lyrics, CDs, album titles, videos, web sites, musical notes, condoms, blah blah blah blah….. Oh, and if you see anything else in here that obviously belongs to someone else (like that retarded video game thing at the beginning, which I think I got wrong) then okay, I don’t own it! You paranoid freaks…
Warnings [for this and future chapters; are subject to change]:
Slash (ZADR, DAGiR, RAPANR) and het (ZAGR, DAGR, BAMR) lemon and lime, anal, oral, rim, non-con, BDSM, minor, soloM, mpreg, (intentional) “OOC-ness,” angst, homicide, suicide, xenophilia, (intentional) n00b humor [yes, that’s a warning], AU, H/C, urination, gore and entrails. (And way too much mention of monkeys in this chapter. Yes, you will find out what RAPANR is later on. Much, much later on. Don’t want to spoil it.)
***
Bad, Grotesque, Horrendous
Chapter 1:
Dib in the Garbage: A Jump into Nastiness

After years of fruitless attempts, he had finally achieved one of his most desired dreams. Unfortunately, peace was not to last for long.
In A.D. 2101, war was beginning.
Dib sat nervously in the commander’s chair of a dark space station. “What happen?”
A mechanic, who bore a strange resemblance to Keef in tight pants, gaped at a screen. “Somebody set up us the bomb.”
“We get signal,” added an operator.
Dib turned his head sharply. “What?”
“Main screen turn on.”
A reddish silhouette appeared at the front of the ship. The commander blinked. “It’s you!!”
A strangely familiar voice spoke. “How are you, gentlemen?”
Anxious, Dib leaned forward and listened.
“All your planet are belong to us,” the Irken droned. “You are on the way to destruction.”
“What you say?!”
“You have no chance to survive, make your time. Ha Ha Ha Ha…” The odor of uneaten food filled the air.
Dib blinked and rubbed his head. “What a stupid dream. Wait a minute…”

How did this happen?
Something vile and spoiled pressed up against his face, rousing him with its putrid stench. He squirmed, and then was still, trying to remember where he was. His head throbbed, and a thick feeling of nausea crept into his stomach. Dib had no idea of what exactly had occurred, or of what had landed him upside down in a garbage can.
After wondering confusedly at this for a few long minutes, Dib finally summoned up enough will to turn and roll out of the pail. He landed roughly on the ground and lay there, feeling wretched and exhausted. How did he end up here? Why couldn’t he remember? Something bizarre had happened to him, something ugly. He knew, he was sure from the way this sickness smothered his guts. For some reason, Dib felt as though he had been humiliated, emotionally mutilated by some unknown thing. Would it make it better, or worse, if he only knew what this thing was? If he only knew what it was... (EMO!) But, yes, he did remember something – something that he had learned from his experience, and he felt a dead weight drop into his stomach at the thought of it.
So… that’s what that thing down there is used for.
Repulsed by these thoughts, he stood up and staggered over to the wall of the house. He leaned against it and sat down, hugging his knees. The nausea was gradually fading, but in its place dawned a new horror at the slow realization of what he had gone through. Dib couldn’t explain what it was yet, but remembered the feeling that it had given him, and it was nothing good. He shivered. No, that couldn’t have been it, not yet. He was too young.
Dib looked up at the house looming over him. Zim’s house. Of course, he thought. It would make sense if Zim had something to do with it. In fact, Dib realized with terror, he had everything to do with it. Oh no… A wave of unwanted memories crashed over him. Oh, God, I’m… sick…
The boy got up again, groggily. His body was sore, and it ached when he tried to walk, but he couldn’t stay there. He had to get away. All of the bad things, that he later wished he never remembered, rushed back to his brain and gripped his soul. They only served to renew the agony that he would never be able to forget again. But it was too much – he had to sort it all out, he had to make sense of it, as he limped miserably towards home. (See? It’s the beginning of the fic and he’s ALREADY miserable.)
And… yes, that was the first thing that had happened. Part of his dream was true, Dib contemplated. Zim had sent up a signal, a warning. Of what? It was ironic, really, that that “warning” had caused him so much pain. He winced at the thought. He felt simply disgusting. If only he had never remembered it…

A large, flat screen glowed green in the gloom, the direct light blocked only by a small, hunched shadow. This figure had its back turned on a huge, monstrous machine that towered over him in the semi-darkness. The silhouetted person studied the screen intensely: he was pondering something very important.
Then, something stirred the dense air. There was a noise, gradually growing louder as its source plummeted further underground. This eventually became a series of irritating, loud clanking sounds. A vent swung open, and a little metallic thing fell out and onto the floor. Yes, that’s right, folks. GIR, virtually unscathed, sat up and dusted himself off, then cheerfully strutted up to the shadow in front of the screen.
“Whatcha doooin’?”
Zim turned, mildly annoyed, towards the robot. He might as well try to explain it to him now. “This is my latest ingenious plan, GIR; ingenious because it was created by me. But it’s not a plan for the domination of Earth this time, although, with its successful execution, it should make our task of invading run much more smoothly. What I’m trying to do is to get rid of that thing which ruins my plans every time, no matter how great they are! Yesss,” he rubbed his hands together. “I am going to use a tool I have created. It’s over there, you can’t miss it,” he said, gesturing towards the big machine. “And now, with my creation, I shall destroy the Dib once and for all!” Zim triumphantly raised his fists in the air.
GIR looked up at him and smiled. “Oooooh!” he cooed. “The Big-Head Boy! I like him.”
“Nooo, the Dib is bad, GIR. Bad. And I must dispose of him because of his persistence in making me fail in my mission! And he… and his… grrrr… pointy hair!!”
“Sounds like revenge to me.”
“What? Nonsense! This is not just about revenge, although revenge is nice. This is for the sake of our mission! My destruction of Earth must be flawless, and we can only make that possible if we first get rid of Dib.”
“Ohh-kaaaay… MONKEY!!”
“And now, I will begin my diabolical plan! But first, we need some BAIT…” Zim turned back to the monitor and typed excitedly onto the screen. An orange light blinked, followed by the Irken insignia. He had just sent what was, by all appearances, a call for help to whomever would pick it up.
“Mwahahahahahahaaa!!!”
“Hee, hee! I likes weenies!!”
The maniacal laughter and the slobbering, hot dog eating sounds echoed up into the house. Until…

The digital clock read that it was four in the morning. Dib had drunk all of the soda in the house, and was now suffering from caffeine withdrawal. Somehow, he was still awake. He had been staring at his laptop screen for hours, but to him it felt like weeks. Searching for information, trying to hack into extra-terrestrial computer systems, tracking planetary coordinates – and coming up with nothing. Now some mind-numbing stellar map flickered in front of him, burning into his glassy eyes. Dib’s eyelids drooped, and he gave in. Slumping forward onto the desk, he felt his mind finally begin to unwind into the peaceful, soothing levels of sleep.
“ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!”
“Aah! Who?! What the…”
Dib shot upright, roused by the computer out of his carbonation-induced stupor. Red and yellow signs flashed on the monitor, streaked with Irken writing and the familiar insignia of that stupid, grinning alien head. The signal’s source was somewhere close.
Dib was wide awake now. “Computer, decode the Irken message from the signal. What does it say?”
The computer hummed, and then responded: “MESSAGE READS THAT THE SOURCE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE IS MALFUNCTIONING, WARNING THAT IT MAY HARM NEARBY ALLY TECHNOLOGY. IT WILL SOON BE DISABLED, AND IS ASKING FOR ASSISTANCE.”
“A warning?” Dib murmured. “So… the A.I. that sent up this signal will soon be vulnerable and open to attack… Computer! Where did this come from?” he demanded.
The image on the screen zoomed in, pinpointing the source’s exact location, and confirming Dib’s suspicions. Hurriedly, he snapped the laptop closed and shoved it into his backpack. Knocking over lazily built pyramids of Poop cans, Dib ran out of his room, slammed the door, and bolted out of his house and into the chilly night air.

“Soooooo…” The defective robot poked his master. “WHAT’S THIS THING DO?!! I wanna try!!”
Zim turned and looked down at GIR through protective (and gratuitously “cool”-looking) goggles. Turning off his sparking welding laser, he answered calmly, “The purpose and mechanizations of this apparatus are pure genius – GENIUS! - and it would hurt your simple, taco-eating little mind if you were to even try to comprehend them.”
“But, but, but,” GIR insisted, now poking Zim irritatingly in the behind. “I WANNA KNOOOWW!” (Pun. Hee hee.)
Zim raised an eyebrow and swatted the metallic hand away. “Now GIR, only I can operate this device because it is too important for you to screw up with your… cheesiness, and that’s how I designed it, anyway. My invention is to be used to help make the mission go much more, um… better, to purge this FILTHY place of our greatest – and most ANNOYING – enemy! Do you know who that is??”
“Mmmmm…” GIR scratched his head, puzzled. “Uhm, Harry Truman?”
“The what?… NO! I’m talking about the Dib-Thing! I told you all this already! Why I… wait a minute, what is this ‘Truman’ of which you speak?” Zim looked at the ‘bot suspiciously with a sidelong glance.
GIR shrugged. “I dunno. I heard it on T.V!”
The vertically challenged alien blinked, and then waved it off. “Yes, yes. Whatever. Anyhow, this brilliant machine of mine shall bring the Dib into so much unbearable, inhuman pain, that he will never dare set foot in my base again. Indeed,” he said, patting the hardware almost affectionately, “my device will cause him to experience levels of extreme discomfort more excruciatingly INTENSE than anything he has ever imagined! I am ZIM!!”
“Wait! Wait! I know!” GIR waved his arm excitedly at his revelation. “It’s Cher!”
Zim looked at the Artificial Unintelligence with worn patience, then turned around and stared off into space. “Yesss. Yes, GIR, it is. Our enemy is Cher. Now go and make sure the Dib monkey gets here alive and unarmed.”
GIR snapped into duty mode and saluted, his eyes switching to a shade of crimson. “YES, MY LORD!”
Zim swiveled in the floating chair toward his hideous machine and picked up an electrical probe. He slowly pressed down on the trigger a few times, almost playfully, watching the sparks flash and feeling the heat of the electricity radiating onto his skin. A twisted, toothy grin stretched across his face at the thought of his soon-to-be-completed toy.
“Oh, and GIR,” he said, without looking at his skipping minion. “Be careful not to damage any of his brain-meats. The last thing I want to do is to hinder his ability to feel any pain.” Zim shook his fists with sadistic excitement.
“OKEY-DOKEY, ARTICHOKEY!” GIR squealed, and trotted off.

Dib ran, and then ran some more. Then he sat on a bench to catch his breath, because he had been running a lot, then he got up and ran again. So much was his fervor with that he ran! What? Anyway, Dib was running in anticipation of the meltdown of Zim’s house and the saving of all mankind! Hooray! Dib had to be there just to make things worse for Zim – to destroy the alien’s base in its time of weakness, to take pictures to remember this wonderful day (well, night, really) by, to point at Zim in his downfall, and to laugh. Ohh, such laughter he would have in his laughing! The happy Dibby laughingness!!! Dib was so enthralled by these reveries that he ran right into a telephone pole, and stumbled around dizzily like a dork for a few minutes. Then he just kept on running. Such determination to save the Earth! I’m not even trying to write this paragraph.
But, nevertheless, furthermore, ALAS! Dib was alone in his quests to save his home planet, because of the ignorance of mankind, and their fear of transcendence and looking past their hum-drum comfort zones, afraid that they would see their own stupidity, and other nonconformist crap, but Dib had known all along and he would risk his life to save these people who had no respect for his valiant endeavors to only try to teach them about the thing that was trying to take away all of their lives even though they were just stupid, gibbering maniacs not knowing what they were saying, who would run around like idiot, mindless, stupid PEOPLE! Something, somehow… anyways… This is bullshit.
Finally, Dib made it to Zim’s house, and nearly collapsed from the exhaustion. Jeez, it’s about frickin’ time. But Dib, as he stood there and panted, with a lack of anything better to do at the moment, noticed something odd.
“Wait a minute,” he said aloud to himself, “there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with Zim’s house, other than what’s usually wrong-looking about it. Strange. Perhaps the message was just a fake. Or maybe the upper levels of the base haven’t been affected yet. Either way, I’d better investigate! Although I’ll completely blow my cover if I don’t STOP TALKING TO MYSELF!!” Dib panted with frustration. “Why do I keep doing that?!!”
This outburst was shortly followed by an eerie calm. Dib heard neither the rustling of the trees nor the soft chirping of insects, and the Earth momentarily seemed to stand still. The silence filled up his mind, and made him look cautiously over his shoulder; he suddenly felt as though he were being watched.
He gulped, and then worked up the nerve to speak again. “O-kayyy… that was a bit too creepy. It’ll probably be fine if I just whisper.” Hiding behind a bush across the street from Zim’s house, Dib muttered under his breath as he procured his laptop from his backpack. [I don’t know about that sentence structure…] Suspicious, he checked to see if his readings from before were consistent: the signal was still there. Was this a joke? Most likely. But why would Zim pull something like this?
Dib crept up to the side of the green, highly exaggerated “human” abode. He pressed a scanner up against the wall, revealing that no one was inside. He looked warily through the window. The upper floor was empty. Sensing opportunity, Dib started snapping on all of his basic invasive equipment: his communication watch, grappling hook, infrared camera, razor-sharp hacksaw slick with poison (well, ya’ never know); lastly, he donned a freakish, overbuilt, goggled helmet, somewhat resembling the devices in an eye doctor’s office or the headgear that Martin wore at the beginning of “The Fly II.” (Hey, there were enough references to “The Fly” in Invader ZIM and JTHM; so, as Johnny said, “Yeah, why not.”) Dib was finally prepared for entry. He carefully lifted up the window, and…
“HIYA!!!”
Dib spun around in shock, then fell over, thrown off balance by the tremendous metal equipment on his head. He glanced around frantically for his adversary, and saw a lime-green dog looming over him, beaming with joy.
Hey, remember the building suspense from a few paragraphs ago? I didn’t follow through with that at all, did I? Wait… maybe I did, a little. I don’t even know anymore.
“GIR!” Dib snapped. “You stupid little robot! What are you doing here?! Well… I guess that’s a dumb question seeing as you live here, but…” He stood up unsteadily and dusted himself off. “Leave me alone, okay? I’m doing something important.”
The ecstatic SIR unit ran, squeaking, in circles around Dib. “I found you! I found you!! Now I get to take you back to my master! He’s waitin’ for ya’!
“Look,” Dib said flatly. “Just get out of my way. I’m busy. Go harass some other freak.” He blinked. “Wait, did you say Zim’s waiting for me? What would he want to do with me?”
GIR quit trotting around and smiled insanely up at the boy. “My master likes you. He wants to play with you! Indeedy-doody!” He clasped his hands together. “Awww, ain’t it cute!?!”
Dib’s eyes narrowed. “I KNEW it! Just a trap! But for what, I wonder?” Dib took off the cumbersome, exaggerated helmet. He rubbed his chin and began pacing back and forth, with GIR following behind him. “Zim probably wants to do some HIDEOUS alien experiments on me. Is that it?” He turned to GIR.
The robot shrugged. “Maybeee…”
“Hmm. Well, that means he’s expecting me here. He even sent out his idiot minion to get me. I probably can’t infiltrate his base now, so maybe I should go home. BUT, that would be the more obvious decision! He probably EXPECTS me to leave! So, if I attack now it’ll be when he least expects it! If I move quickly, then maybe I can catch him off guard and hack into his –”
WHAM!
There was a soft thump as Dib crumpled to the ground. GIR looked down at him, holding a pipe. “Aww. Poor Big-Head Boy,” he said pityingly. He poked Dib tentatively with the metal rod. “Yyyep, he’s out!” Then, GIR dropped the pipe and reached into his cavernous head, producing a frightened chinchilla. He bit happily into the rodent’s back and proceeded to suck the blood out of it. “Mmm-mmmmm, good!” GIR chirped, licking his lips as he dragged Dib away.
[page break]
When the boy came to, he was being restrained by clamps that dug into his skin. He was upright on a vertical metal slab, and he could vaguely see Zim working in the shadows. Dib gathered that GIR had dragged him (and pushed him down the stairs, which would explain the new aches all over him) to the dank, dark, doom-doom basement place, where Zim awaited, working on some painful-looking machinery: typing into a glowing screen, drilling, sending electrical impulses into wires, tightening nuts and bolts. Now you’re getting bored.
So was Dib, but he was brought back to attention when GIR stepped up to the alien and saluted. “Target acquired, Sir! We have captured the Big-Head Boy with as little harm done to him as possible.”
Zim spun around and saw Dib sending him a lop-sided glare. “So you have. Good work, GIR. You are dismissed for now.”
“Yayyy!” GIR squealed. “CAN I WATCH?”
“Eh… fine. As long as you stay out of my way.” At this response, GIR shrieked with joy and whipped out the chinchilla again. He began to noisily slurp on the blood. Zim winced, then turned his eyes to Dib.
“You are probably wondering why you are here,” he said villainously. “If you think that I am going to destroy you, Dib… yesss… always destrooooyy...” Zim trailed off, and then snapped back from his musings, “– then you are terribly, terribly wrong. Because after this, you’ll wish that you were dead.” He hopped off his floating chair and advanced on the drowsy Dib. “But, in a sense, I will destroy you. You see, despite the EXTREME stupidity in that balloon-like head of yours, you have put a constant damper on the essential completion of my mission! And in order for me to fulfill my duties as an Invader, I must eradicate all threats. Including YOU!” Zim pointed furiously at Dib, who was now struggling to break free. Breathing heavily, Zim paused for a moment to calm himself down. He picked up the electrical probe again and began toying with it, pressing the trigger and letting the sparks fly. “You should feel honored that I’ve given my revenge against you so much thought.” He paused. “But I won’t kill you. Ya’ know, I might as well. There’s no reason for me to keep you around. You see, it’s only for my own satisfaction. I want to see you crawl in the omnipotent MISERY of what the Almighty ZIM did to you. I am going to make your mind decay until you are no longer… no longer… ohhh… Dib-like. Until you are impure!” Zim now leaned closer to Dib’s face, the electricity singeing the boy’s hair. “And I want to see you as the worm-monkey that you really are; as you watch while I take over this filthy, monkey grease-planet at last; as you finally DESTROY YOURSELF from the inside at the monkey-filled, monkey horror! HAH!” The sparks went out.
Furious, Dib lashed out at the chuckling alien. “Zim, you moron! Stop calling us monkeys! We’re not monkeys! This ain’t no planet of no apes!”
Zim (momentarily confused): Yes?
Dib: NO!!
GIR: Doo-doo, doo-doo! (making gross, sucking noises)
And, yes, in the middle of this heightened tension, the author completely switches styles from prose to a script!
Zim: Eh? That’s weird.
Dib: I know.
Zim (angry again): Urgh… NO MATTER! I will soon be rid of YOU, Dib! After this, you will never consider thwarting my plans! You will never even want to think about the HORROR! (turns wildly and begins throwing together chunks of the machine, cackling.) No more Dib! Never again! NEVER AGAIN! RRAHAHAHAHAA!!
Dib (writhing against his restraints): You don’t learn from your mistakes, Zim! You should know by now that you won’t be able to get away with this! Your plans never work!!
Zim (barking over his shoulder): SILENCE!
Dib (flails, then gives up his struggle; he now just screams at his captor): Thaaat’s right, you little green freak! Soon the world will know what you really are, and I’ll be the one chopping up your guts! I’ll have the last laugh, space boy! You’ll see!!
Zim (growls): Rrrrr… I can’t STAND it! GIR, shut it up! NOW! (points furiously)
GIR: Yes, Sir! (bloody-faced, he trots up to the exhausted Dib) Hey, you wanna see my chinchilla friend? Huh!? Look at it! LOOK AT IT!! (thrusts the squeaking, bug-eyed rodent into Dib’s face.)
Chinchilla: …Eep?
Dib: Eww, that’s just gross!
GIR: Wheeee, lookee now! He’s dancin’ like a sober platypus! (shakes rodent; gore splatters on Dib’s face)
Dib: Ulgh - ! (gags)
GIR: WHEEEEEEEE!!!
Zim: That’s enough now, GIR. Go back to your corner.
ZIM TURNS, AND HIS PAK IS LADEN WITH GROTESQUE, MECHANICAL PARTS THAT APPEARED AS THOUGH THEY HAD BEEN SPAWNED BY THE DEVIL HIMSELF. CUE MELODRAMA. THE TABLE DIB IS ON RECLINES, AND DIB SEES TO HIS HORROR THAT MASSIVE, TORTUROUS HARDWARE LOOMS UP ON EITHER SIDE OF HIM. ZIM IS NOW STANDING OVER HIM, GRINNING WITH INSANE MALICIOUSNESS.
Dib (panics): Zim!? What are you doing?? Get… get away from me!
ZIM’S GRIN ONLY WIDENS, AND HE PRESSES A BUTTON. TWO METALLIC, TENTACLE-LIKE ARMS SHOOT OUT FROM THE STATIONARY MACHINES AND RIP OFF DIB’S CLOTHES. BEWILDERED, DIB SCREECHES AS CLAWS EXTENDING FROM ZIM’S PAK BEGIN PROBING AND STINGING HIM IN PLACES THAT HE KEPT ONLY TO HIMSELF. DIB WAS NOW INTRODUCED TO A NEW KIND OF UNBEARABLE PAIN; YET, FOR SOME REASON, HE WANTED MORE OF IT.
Dib (he’s really flipping out, now): Aaagh! What the hell are you doing?! Zim, get off of me, you freak! Oh my God, NO!
THEN, ZIM CALMLY RAISES UP A HAND, AND SPEAKS IN A COMMANDING TONE.
Zim: And now… ACTIVATE THE FLUX CAPACITOR!
Sound effects: VRROOOOOOOOOOOOMM!!!
Dib: What?! What IS this? Ahhh! AAAAAAGHK!
Sfx: VVRRRRRRNNN!
Dib: Yeee-aaaaah!! No! NOO! It’s in my BUUUUTT!!
Zim: (various grunting and squeaking sounds)
Dib: EEEEEK! AAAHHHH!! NYAAAAAAAH! (now he sounds like a howler monkey)
Zim: Ooo, uhh… (moans, and vomits)
Dib: Nooo! What is this I see? Your barf… is people! PEEEOPLLLLE!!
Zim: SILENCE, salty Dib-slug! Silence, as I cut thee with my razor of the flesh! Ugh… BLAAAGHH! (throws up some more)
Sfx: rumble… grg… zzzzzzzt!
Dib: AAIIIIEEEE!
Sfx: SPLORCH!
Dib: Gurgle… gulp…
Zim: Bluhh… OOOOOOOOGH. (something is heard dripping on the floor)
GIR (pauses from his snack): Lookee, chinchilla! The Big-Head Boy is gushing blood now! Just like you! (licks his lips)
Zim: Don’t play with your food, GIR! This is a serious procedure, and is necessary for our mission! Guh.
Dib (in a haze): I see… these… these are… honey-nut cheerios. Oooohhh… somebody, help me…
GIR SITS, STILL FEASTING ON HIS NOT-SO-VIGOROUS-ANYMORE (<- bad adjective) CHINCHILLA, WITH HIS BACK AGAINST A WALL, UPON WHICH ZIM AND DIB’S SHADOWS ARE CAST. HE LOOKS ON IN MILD CURIOSITY AT THE MORBIDLY PERVERTED SCENE BEFORE HIM. ZIM’S SILHOUETTE CAN BE SEEN MOVING SHAKILY UP AND DOWN.
Zim: Soon, SOON my plan will come to fruition. You will feel the pain that you’ve so rightfully deserved all along, for standing in the way of the path of the goal of the mission of ZIM! Now you will know what I have to endure EVERY DAY, when I smell all of you bleeding FOOLS! OOOOH-aaaahh…
Dib: I… I can’t take it anymore. Don’t… do this to me. I promise… ulp… I’ll leave you alone, just make it stop…
Zim: Whaaat? Giving up so easily?! Disgusting, pitiful human! (slaps him across the face) You cannot charm ME! I will make you pay! (moves faster)
Dib: WAAH! Ohh, the gelatinous pleazzzure… no, the PAIN! Oh, this is so wrong!
Zim: You frustrate me! AAAGH! NOW!! (flips a switch)
Sfx: GRNNN DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DNNNNNN.
Dib: Oh no NO! The agoneeee! Oog, oog, ugh, agh, aagg!
Zim: Graaarrgh!! GACK! (splish, squish, squirm)
Dib: Ohh no no no no no no! Aww, no! Why, Lord? WHYYYYY!?! Sob…
Zim (breathing hitches): Hngkk!
Dib: …
EEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIiiiii…
Zim: Sssss…
Sfx: SPLAT!
Dib: Ow!
Zim: Urrgh…
GIR: BURRRP!
Zim: I’ve won… I came, I saw, and I conquered you, Dib-human. And now, it is time… Irken… hibernation… (passes out)
Dib (wriggling in a pool of shit, vomit and blood, as well as other alien fluids; his voice is muffled): Urgk… hey, gerroff me, Zim… hurnkgh…
GIR: LET’S DO THAT AGAIN!
***
Author’s Notes:
Um.
I hope you weren’t too disgusted by how dumb it is, but then, that’s the whole point. It’s all part of my revolting plan. If you don’t get the joke, then you shouldn’t be reading this. And if you’re saying, ‘Well, this isn’t that bad,’ then you just wait until I unleash the Inner N00b. For the more intelligent readers, Chapter Two should be much better, although it may be a while before that shows up. Thank you, and good night.
(I realize that a few of Dib’s actions were strikingly similar to those in another, very good fanfiction that I read months after writing this. It is a coincidence and this was not at all done in mockery. If anyone picked up on it, it was just an unintentional, freak thing. Sorry!)
Thanks go out to Krimzon and her friend, whose name I do not know, for their technical help, to all my school cronies for all their critiquing and [cough] “support,” and to anyone else who told me to stop being a pussy and just post the stupid thing.
BLUNT PREVIEW!!! (Dragonball Z, anyone?)
Next time, on BGH! Dib goes home, but he is still covered in Zim’s garbage! Oh, no! Pill-popping Dib is misunderstood by his whole family! DRUGGIE ANGST! In the climactic Zim versus FUCKIN’ UGLY BABY fight scene, we GASP at the perversion of urination that ensues! PURE EVIL!! Does Dib have bladder control!?!?!? Find out next time, on BGH!!!!!!!!!
Review this chapter and win a Free IPOD!
(Oh yeah, I also disclaim Honey-Nut Cheerios, Zero Wing, godawful.net, iPods, and DBZ. You lawyer bastards.)
I called my dog “Dib,” once.
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Bad, Grotesque, Horrendous