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The Happy Smiley Dib Show!	By : V021 Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 2643 -:- 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
- 11
- 12
- 13
(Against a backdrop of Mylar covered walls, crepe-paper streamers, and a cheesy 70’s love theme, a note flutters down to the floor…)
“I, V--, do hereby give my permission to turn the climax of The Happy Smiley Dib Show into the prom scene of a sappy teen romance!”
… if by ‘romance’ one means S&M, booze, and homicidal fetishes. Actually, if you have stuck with it this far, then you’ve been waiting eagerly for some twisted ZADR, haven’t you?
You have!
You sick little monkeys…
(Lyrics from “Andy, You’re a Star” by the Killers.)
Chapter 12: My Sweet Revenge…
Zim shifted uneasily, running a finger under his collar as he spoke to the computer. “Um… are you sure this is what they wear to the ‘Prom’? It’s really… scratchy.”
“Yes, sir…” groaned the computer for the eighth time that day. “All research in this ‘formal attire’ indicates that human men wear such garments as button-down shirts, slacks, and ties…”
“Tie? Is that what this thing is?” Zim barked, dumbly holding up a strip of fabric emblazoned with an Irken logo.
“Yes, sir. You’re supposed to tie it around your neck and…”
Gasping in panic, Zim clawed frantically at the noose he had foolishly drawn around his neck.
With a weary sigh, the computer watched Minimoose undo the noose and waited for the inept alien to catch his breath.
Holding out a clip-on tie, Minimoose hovered by Zim’s shoulder. “Squeak?”
“No! I will not be thwarted by this insidious piece of fashion torture, despite its obvious health and combat draw-backs!”
After the twelfth attempt left Zim hanging nearly lifeless from the ceiling, Minimoose finally grabbed the tie and perfectly fixed it in place. It even held out his overcoat and pinned a horrendously magenta carnation onto his lapel.
“Thank you, Moose…” muttered Zim. He stuffed a few bottles of booze into his pockets and turned to leave.
“Uh, sir…”
Half turning to face the monitor Zim glared. “What is it now?”
“Well, sir, its jus that you’re shoes are…eh, well they’re…”
He glanced down at the boots. “What? They’re polished and no-one said I couldn’t wear boots!”
“Sir, high-heeled shoes are considered feminine attire. They make you look girly, sir. Really girly.”
“Girly? Girly! I’ll have you know that my own EXTENSIVE and ASTOUNDING study of human footwear shows that many a human male wears 17-inch heels.”
“Yes, sir… If they’re pimps.” snapped the computer then, realizing that Zim wasn’t getting it, added, “Platform shoes were the height of fashion, in the 70’s… They’re no longer ‘cool’ among the young humans. In fact sir, that specific style of boot is only popular among hookers, porn-stars, and strippers.”
Zim laughed the computer’s comment off. “You’re jealous that now I tower IMPRESSIVELY above you’re tiny form!”
“Um, technically sir, I happen to be gigantic since I am directly connected to the hundreds of miles of underground passages and other structures that make up the base.”
“Whatever!” snorted Zim as he dosed himself with a healthy dose of Pimp Juice. “I haven’t time to listen to you foolishly babble on about the truth! I must go and meet my ‘date’…”
With shudder at the prospect of spending an evening with Keef, Zim spun on his physics defying heels and strutted out of the lab.
Outside the High Skool, some hours later… Zim ignored the staring from his classmates as they walked by him. He’d been waiting by the door since well before the janitor had opened them up to let in students, but Keef still hadn’t shown. And, from what Zim knew of the nauseatingly happy boy, Keef was never late…
(One, two…)
He tapped his foot impatiently. The Prom had started over an hour ago! Where could that stupid boy be?
The more Zim thought about it, the more he started to think that Keef had… he had… How the hell did these humans put it?
“Aw, poor guy,” wheezed Gretchen as she, Dirge, Melvin, and Matthew P. Mathers III walked past.
“Yeah…” Melvin muttered, glancing at the alien. “Looks like Zim got stood up…”
(Hey, shut up! Hey, shut up!)
Hissing angrily, Zim made as if to lunge at them, sending Mathew screaming in terror as he scurried for safety. The rest of the geek brigade stared at Zim for a minute.
Dirge shook his head. “Man, you don’t have to take it out on us.”
“Leave the poor guy be, Dirge.” Gretchen groaned, then gave Zim a weak smile. “If you need somebody to talk to, I understand…
Alone again on the front steps, he glared up at the empty, smog-darkened sky and let himself slip into a brooding daydream.
“Dib wouldn’t stand me up…” he growled to nobody in particular.
(On the field, I remember…)
Zim smiled bitterly as he trudged into Skool.
He could still recall how Dib always seemed to know exactly when and where to find him, even after the stinkbeast claimed he’d “given up” the chase. As creepy as this obsessive knowledge was, it left Zim with a strange twangie-gooey feeling in the pit of his squeedle-splooch to know that the Dib never truly forgot him after all.
(You were incredible…)
It may have been the most moronic move in history not to kill Dib outright, especially given the vulgar display of power contain in the human ENORMOUS skull. Such fury… such raw hatred… Zim shivered at the memory of just how close Dib had come to killing him with that—dare he say it? —INGENIOUS ploy of faking a swoon to catch him off guard. And yet, he was satisfied with leaving his greatest enemy comatose.
After all, it did leave the hope that maybe…
(You think you’re alone,) (With the pain that you drain from love…)
The smile slipped off his face.
Standing just a short distance away was Gretchen, by herself now as she glared at the Dib memorial, complete with that HORRIBLE hologram of his Dib happily in the arms of Mary-Anne. It amazed Zim just how much hatred was radiating off the normally timid human.
“It’s not fair.” Gretchen grumbled, then she noticed Zim standing next to her. “Can you believe them? Putting that picture up!” When Zim didn’t reply, the girl rambled on, “I just can’t believe those jerks from the school-board had to use a picture of Dib and that…that…”
Shaking with a fury the likes of which few beings besides Gaz could experience, Zim finished her statement with a hiss. “Fucking whore…”
“Yeah.” Gretchen growled, tact momentarily forgotten. “I mean, it’s tragic and all that she died, but what makes them think that Dib ever really cared for her. They barely knew each other! If anybody should’ve been in that picture, it should’ve been somebody who’s spent their every waking moment absolutely devoted to Dib’s every single move!”
Zim nodded angrily in agreement.
“Some people would’ve given their limbs just to lick the dirt off his boots!” rasped Gretchen through her retainer. “But, NOOOO! He just had to go run off with that dirty, cheap…”
“Bitch!” roared Zim. “She wasn’t worthy of the Dib!”
(In a car with a girl…) (Promise me she’s not you’re world…)
“You said, Zim!” Gretchen snarled.
But the alien paid no attention to her as he flew off into a rant. “None of these filthy humans ever deserved to have you! It was just you and me, Dib! You and me, locked in battle since the day I landed on this MISERABLE planet! And then you go and spurn me for a fucking robot slut! How dare you, Dib. HOW DARE YOU REJECT ZIM! If any deserved to squash your berry, it was ME!”
Giving the crazed green boy a funny look, Gretchen paused in her retreat to safety. “Don’t you mean ‘pop his cherry’?”
“Uh… YEAH! That too!” came the shriek, then Zim’s voice went strange and quiet. “You’re mine, Dib. Mine.”
(Get down…)
“Argh!” Flailing, Zim valiantly fought off an offending veil of pastel streamers that assailed him the second he stormed through the doors. The sheer gaudiness of the decorations, with their cutesy springtime theme and overly shiny foil sheep balloons, left Zim longing desperately for the more comforting run-down barracks look that the gym normally had.
(Leave you number on the locker,) (And I’ll give you a call…)
“So anyway,” started one of the popular girls as she and her girlfriends chattered by the punchbowl. “I was telling Rufus Slocum—you know, the weirdo freshman girl-- that I wouldn’t invite any lezzies to my parties…”
“What are these ‘lezzies’ you speak of?” Zim asked, leaning in to so he could eavesdrop better. “And why are they banned from you’re gatherings? Do they have…(shudder)… the brainworms?”
Shocked by the idea that the most unpopular person in school had dared come near them, all the popular girls could do was gape at him. Then one of them spoke up.
“Oh my God, Heather!” she gasped to the first girl. “He’s talking to us!”
“Don’t have an aneurysm, Heather!” snapped the alpha Heather. Slowly and with a hideously condescending smile, she turned to Zim. “Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? I’m sure you would know Rufus’ a big old lesbian.”
Zim stared blankly. “Oh… so she’s a native of Lesbos.”
“Oh my God!” gasped another lesser Heather. “Is he serious, Heather?”
The alpha Heather glared at Zim. “Quite pulling our dicks! Are you expecting us to believe that a fag like you doesn’t know what lesbians are?”
“FOR THE LAST TIME, INSOLENT DIRT MONKEYS!” roared Zim. “I AM class=GramE>NOT A CIGARETTE NOR A BUNDLE OF KIDDLING! ZIM IS A MALE!” He paused, and noticing that everyone was staring at him, added, “A HUMAN male. Yep. One hundred and twenty percent human, alright. Yes sir. I sure class=GramE>is humanly reeking with humanness.”
(… Yeah…)
“Whatever, gay boy…” sneered the alpha Heather as she and her pack of Heathers walked off.
“Gay boy?” Zim murmured in confusion, trying to figure out why they thought he was happy.
With that, everyone went back to dancing and socializing.
“It’s not fair…” Zim muttered to himself, taking a gulp of booze. “I shouldn’t be stuck watching these miserable humans going through their primitive and disgusting mating rituals! If it wasn’t for that stupid Keef, I’d back at the base plotting to annihilate every last one of their pathetic lives. And then, after I’m finished destroying all the humans, I’m going to go back to Irk and then I’ll…I’ll…”
“And just how are you going to get to Irk? You don’t have a ship, dumb ass.”
(Leave you legacy in gold) (On the plaques that line the hall…)
Pivoting like a crazed gyroscope on his gravity defying heels, Zim found himself face to face with the Other.
“You again! But the pills… they…” he sputtered.
“They make me go away?” snickered the Other. “Oh no-no, Zim. I’m still here. I’ll always be here…”
“Well, it doesn’t matter!” Zim snorted, downing the rest of the bottle and grabbing another. “I can just drink you away.”
“Can you drink Dib away, too?”
He choked on the booze, then shouted hysterically, “Dib? DIB! He means NOTHING to me!”
(On the streets, such a sweet face…)
“Liar.” The Other said flatly. “I know you, Zim. I know things about you that even you don’t know. Like how you spend all your time looking through those pictures of Dib…”
“Shut up…”
“…how you broke into his gym locker just to sniff his shorts…”
“I said shut up…”
“And like how, when you’re with Keef, you like to close your eyes and think that it’s really Dib instead…”
“SHUT UP!” Racking his claws down the Other’s face, Zim pulled his hand back and was amazed to see that he was holding the tattered pieces of a balloon.
(In the staff room, the verdict’s in…)
“You were right…” mumbled the History teacher to the guidance counselor. “That green kid is crazy.”
Laughing weakly, Zim hurriedly discarded the dead balloon and sneaked into a shadowy corner with the other rejects. He barely registered Gretchen’s hesitant smile of recognition as he got better acquainted with Jack Daniels and Jimmy Beam. Soon the failed Invader found himself in a fuzzy haze of alcoholic bliss. He was so far gone that he didn’t even realize Gretchen was now carrying on an extremely one-sided conversation with him about bad dates she’d been on and how he should try to find a “nice person” to go out with…
(Promise me she’s not your world…)
Suddenly, a power surge blew all the lights, plunging the dance floor into darkness for sever agonizing minutes before a single spotlight flashed on, and swung its beam on the double-doors. The doors slammed opened and in walked a tall, dazzling white figure.
(‘Cause Andy, you’re a star…)
The room was dead silent. Then someone screamed, “OH MY GOD! IT’S HIM!”
Cries and ecstatic moans filled the air, yet apparently Dib was deaf to the sheer awe his appearance inspired. Holding his head up with a disdainful look, he surveyed the crowd like a conquering ruler before he suddenly saw what he wanted standing seriously smashed up against wall. Without a word, Dib coolly cut through the murmuring crowd which parted like water in front of a great white’s fin.
(In nobody’s eyes…)
Zim could only stare, wondering if the blurry Dib-shaped glob bearing down on him was the by-product of a bad batch of whiskey. He barely noticed Gretchen grab his shoulders for support as she swooned.
Dib stopped barely five feet from his enemy. “Zim.”
(In nobody’s eyes but mine.)
All eyes turned to Dib and Zim, staring the pair down with a strangely hungry yet fearful gaze. The tension mounted.
It soon dawned on the drunken alien that the entire room had formed a semicircle around him, Gretchen, and the Dib. Annoyed, he shoved the lovesick girl away and staggered forward to confront this new imposter.
“You think you can…can fool me again, Gaz? Fool girl!” he slurred, trying to stop the room from spinning. “I’m sick of your class=SpellE>dec—…your decep— class=GramE>Your tricks! Now take your fucking robot and go home before I break you in half.”
Dib only stood there, looking down at Zim. The glare on his glasses left Dib’s expression unreadable.
But Zim took the lack of response (and the fact that this Dib was a quite a bit taller than he was…) personally. “You think this is funny? Are you laughing at me!” When that failed to get a reaction, he shrieked, “ANSWER ME, DAMMIT! ZIM COMMANDS YOU TO ANSWER, FILTHY—”
Without warning, Dib backhanded Zim and sent him sprawling across the floor.
Zim got back to his feet and lunged for Dib, only to be backhanded again, this time crashing into the refreshment table. Yet the alien, fueled by pride, self-righteous anger, and a more than healthy dose of liquid courage, kept charging for Dib and kept getting smacked down.
And all the while the crowd dumbly stood by watching the extremely one-sided fight. A few people gasped while others looked around helplessly for the chaperones, who had all strangely disappeared after the lights went out. Even though Zim was the most loathed person in the High Skool, it was still shocking that anyone could just callously slap another person around like that without any display of emotion. It seemed almost impossible that Dib was capable of dishing out such a vicious beating, even to that green freak, but what made it even more incredible was that the rumor that Zim had single-handedly put Krug and his entire gang into intensive care mere weeks ago…
Zim lurched to his feet after a round of savage blows. “Had enough yet?” he asked, hacking up a clot of blood.
Dib gazed blankly at him.
“Want some more, eh?” He wavered unsteadily, nearly toppling in his heels. Zim tried the raise a fist and finally managed to pull himself into a pathetic fighting stance. “Come on, then…”
Reaching back, Dib mechanically readied yet another pimp slap but stopped mid swing when Gretchen grabbed his arm.
“Stop it. Stop it!” she sobbed, frantically yanking on Dib’s arm. “Please, stop! You’re going to kill him!”
Turning to face her, Dib said mildly, “That’s the idea.”
Gretchen let go and gaped at him in horror.
Dib merely shrugged and, lowering his arm watched Zim finally topple backwards. He stared down at the battered heap on the floor for a second without a flicker of emotion, then spun on his heels and strode away. The crowd fearfully jerked aside to let him pass, giving Dib the widest berth possible.
They waited in terrified silence until the doors had banged shut before closing in to see what was left of Zim.
“Whoa…” mumbled Poochy, Drinker of HATE. “Is he dead?”
“You gotta poke them to tell…” Dirge droned sagely. “Anybody got a stick?”
Leaning down, Zita helped Gretchen prop up Zim’s head, even going so far as to give up the tissues she’d been stuffing her bra with so they could wipe the blood off his face. The rest of their classmates simply milled around looking confused and awkward.
Glancing over Gretchen’s shoulder, the Letter M quipped, “Man, Zim got beat down like a cheap ho…”
“Word.”
At that, Zim’s eye shot open and, knocking both girls aside lurched to his feet with a bit of froth forming at his mouth.
“Dib…” Laughing quietly, he started to stagger after his attacker.
“Hey man,” Torque spoke up, gingerly touching Zim’s arm. “Just lay back down and we’ll get you an ambula—”
Zim whirled around, slamming the varsity linebacker across the room before he vaulted the crowd. He burst through the doors, charging blindly up the stairs and down the hallway until skidding to an abrupt stop.
Slipping on scattered glass, he warily stepped forward to examine what was left of the Dib memorial. The hologram was gone, it’s mechanism destroyed by what seemed to be an explosion. The rest of the relics laid scattered over the floor, crushed or charred beyond recognition as though someone had been trying to obliterate every piece of Dib they found. But, before he could figure out who or what could have caused such damage, footsteps crunching nearer jerked Zim to his feet.
“Dib?” he asked, breathless as he rounded on the human.
Cocking his head to one side, Dib only stared blankly at him.
“No! That CANNOT BE!” Zim screeched, pointing an angry claw at the human. “You can’t be my Dib. I saw the condition he was in, hooked up to all those PATHETIC machines. And, after what I did to his body, the Dib will remain lying in his father’s lab until he rots like the forgotten sack of meaty waste he is.”
Dib snorted. “You’re still a self-assured little shit, aren’t you?”
The alien growled. “And you’re still an emotional cripple, Gaz.”
“Gaz?” It was less question and more threat in subtext, which Zim missed entirely.
“Are you trying to make me look stupid!”
“You never needed any help from me, Zim.”
“Damn right.” Quickly, Zim shifted back to belligerence. “Now, just what makes you think that I’m going to fall for you stupid robot-Dib trick again, Gaz? Are you trying to piss me off? Or, in your foolishly girly, uh…foolishness, do you really think that you still have a chance at defeating me?”
Dib stared at him. “Funny… It sure looked like I was kicking your ass back there on the dance floor…”
Zim crowed triumphantly. “AH-HA! So you admit to not being Dib!”
“No. But thank you…” Smiling madly now, Dib moved closer and backed Zim into the railing. “Thank you so much for telling about Gaz… Now I can show my little sister just how much I appreciate her meddling.”
Dangerously close to falling over the railing, Zim blinked stupidly at him. “Huh? IMPOSSIBLE!”
Dib sighed. “Improbable. It was improbable that I’d ever wake up after what happened. But you forget one thing, Zim: In my father’s lab, NOTHING is impossible. Besides, I am—I was my dad’s favorite guinea pig. And he always wanted to go poking around inside my head… I think he really believed he could bring me back to ‘sanity’ with the power of his precious SCIENCE.” Spitting out the last part, his lip curled into a crazed grin. “But that didn’t turn out well for me… Then again, it did go so well for him either…”
For a moment, all Zim did was look at him blankly. Suddenly, he started to laugh. “Surely you can’t be serious! Dib’s too idiotically HEROIC! He didn’t have the nerve to kill another human, much less murder his own FATHER! That’s about as likely as Keef being anything but happy…”
“Ah, Keef…”The grin twisted into a mocking look of pity. “I’m so sorry that he couldn’t make it, but Keef had a little accident in the shower… Apparently, he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife fifty times.”
“You? You killed Keef?” Zim gaped in shock, then shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s for the best.”
Dib glared. “I just told that I murdered your boyfriend. Doesn’t that mean anything to you, Zim?”
The alien snorted. “No. I was planning on getting rid of the little pest soon, anyway.”
“But Keef loved you,” hissed Dib. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you, Zim?”
“Feh! I laugh at your PITIFUL love! Zim needs NO filthy human emotions!” Haughtily, Zim tossed back his head. “My heart is like a lump of stony cold evil that pumps the stony cold blood of evil through my stony cold evil veins…which are evil! Man, I’m so evil that I could crush this DISGUSTING planet and still be up for some nachos! Because not only am I evil but I’m also an unstoppable death machine, baby! And NO ONE—not you, not that excuse for a military, or even the Dib himself—can stop my reign of terror! Now, CRINGE BEFORE THE MIGHTY EVIL OF ZIM!”
“Cringe before this.” Before Zim even realized it, Dib had reached back and sent him sailing over the railing with a single punch.
The force knocked Zim straight through the bottom of the indoor waterfall, smashing his battered body right into the bowels of the Hi-Skool sub-basement. Groaning in pain, Zim laid in the crater he’d made with water splashing down from above. He crawled slowly out and looked up to see Dib floating through the hole.
“What’s the matter, Zim?” he smirked smugly, hovering just off the ground. “I thought you were an evil unstoppable death machine. Surely one little punch isn’t going to put you down. Come on! Get up, Zim! I want you to get up… Get up, and fight.”
“Who are you?” screamed Zim. “WHO ARE YOU?”
Dib rolled his eyes. “Okay, do I really need to explain this all again? Dad took advantage of my coma to fuck around in my head, reviving me and setting me off to seek revenge in a gory rampage of MADNESS!”
“Let me see if I’ve got this right: You’re saying that you are Dib—the REAL Dib—and that you’ve come to rain down your horrific yet totally justifiable vengeance upon my head for what I did to you?”
“Exactly.”
Zim arched a bruised eyebrow. “You do know you’re INSANE, right?”
“Ha! Silly space boy!” laughed Dib. “Scientist don’t go insane… We go MAD.”
“Okay…” Straightening his tie, Zim drew himself up as tall as possible and only came up to Dib’s chin. “So you’ve killed your father, you slaughtered Keef, and hunted me down. Now what, Dib? Will you kill me as well?”
“Actually,” Dib purred dropping to his feet to slink closer. “I had originally planned on just beating on you until you were pulverized into a messy, twitching pulp and leave you to die in this godforsaken place. But, on my way to Keef’s, I thought things over…” Reaching out, he gently wiped away the blood on Zim’s lip. “True, it would be deeply satisfying, and appropriate. And yet, what you did to me wasn’t simply to break my body. Any shithead can shatter spines, rupture spleens, puncture lungs, rip somebody’s face apart, and so on and so forth. Oh no!” Dib let his fingers trail down Zim’s neck, leaning even closer. “You did the one thing no one else has ever done to me, Zim: You broke my heart.”
“I broke your heart? I broke your heart!” screamed Zim, slapping his hand away. “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO ABANDONED ME! ALL THESE YEARS, I’VE DONE NOTHING BUT TRY TO GET YOUR FUCKING ATTENTION, AND NEVER ONCE DID YOU ACKNOWLEDGE MY GREATNESS! EVERY MONSTER YOU FOUGHT, EVERY CONSPIRACY YOU UNMASKED, EVERY VILLIANIOUS PLOT TO TAKE OVER EARTH YOU THWARTED… THEY WERE ALL ME! WITHOUT MY EVIL PLOTTING YOU WOULD BE NOTHING, DIB! NOTHING!”
Wiping the spit off his face, Dib glared down at the panting alien. “Are you done?”
“No.” Zim snapped hoarsely. “No, I’m not done! I made you! And what do you do to repay me? Not only did you spend years—years, Dibclass=GramE>!— refusing to recognize me as the greatest enemy you have ever faced, but you went and hooked up with some fucking robot. ” The alien looked at the stupefied expression on Dib’s face and sighed, fixing his wig. “Okay, maybe I overreacted.”
“You overreacted?” snapped Dib. “That’s your explanation? You brainwashed and molested my little sister, vivisected Mary-Anne, unleashed hordes of bloodthirsty zombies upon the city, and sent me into a nightmare world from which there was no escape.”
“Whoa… I never said I was going to explain what I did.” He put the wig back on and walked toward the stairs. Zim paused next to Dib. “Don’t act surprised, Dib. You know, as a monster, I am capable of doing such things.”
Dib glared at him out of the corner of his eye. “Surprised? No. I’m not surprised. Did I know you could do those things? Yes. Did I ever think for a moment that you would that sort of shit to me?” He paused for a second, then said flatly, “Well, yeah. But never in our history together did I ever think you would be enough of an evil bastard to actually pull it off.”
“Well you thought wrong, didn’t you?” Smirking, Zim pulled an obscenely large rail-gun out of his PAK. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a gym full of humans I have go and annihilate.”
He made it twelve steps before Dib spoke again.
“Are you afraid yet, Zim?”
Zim stopped, his foot hovering over the first step. “Afraid? Of you? Don’t be stupid, sad little earth monkey!”
“You should be.”
The alien turned to laugh in Dib’s face only to find that the human had vanished. He shrugged off the fear creeping up on him and trotted upstairs clutching the rail-gun just a little too tightly.
- 11
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The Happy Smiley Dib Show!