Chapter Text
The whole debacle had started off ordinarily enough.
The two had met up in an empty parking lot for one of their regularly scheduled fights/thwarting sessions.
Dib told Zim that his face hole was stupid and his brains were ugly.
Zim told Dib that his arms were terrible and that he should, quote, ‘shave his head so his brain worms would fall out easier’.
Dib inevitably told Zim that made no sense.
Zim told Dib ‘YOU make no sense’
And within three minutes they were wrestling in the parking lot of an abandoned mini mall, tussling and hurling insults at each other.
“OOF - STINK-CREATURE!”
“Green- augh -! UGLY FREAK!”
“YOU’RE GREEN!”
“ YOU’RE green!”
“I’m green?”
“Well, it’s more of a lime-tone…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I HATE YOU, DIB-DOOKIE!”
“YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH IT, ZIM !!”
“RRGH!!” The green, short-statured alien in question jumped away, catching himself on his spidery PAK legs as he lept. The vexed human was left swinging at empty air.
“HEY!” Dib whined, nasally. “That’s cheating!”
“It’s not CHEATING if I’M BETTER THAN YOU!” The last word was accentuated with a jab towards Dib, who rolled away quickly.
“Woah - CAREFUL! You’re gonna STAB ME!” He shouted up at Zim, pulling out his patented (very cool) trench coat from where it had been impaled. “Aw, man. Now I need to get one of my spares…”
“WHEN I AM DONE WITH YOUUUUU! YOU WILL NEED A SPARE HEAD!” Zim taunted, kicking his legs in the air. He jammed another appendage at Dib, cheering loudly to himself when he felt it connect with something.
Surveying the scene and looking downwards, he saw Dib had been holding his supernatural paraphernalia laden briefcase to his chest. And the pointy beam had driven RIGHT through it.
“Uh. Ow.” He furrowed his brows, looking up at Zim.
Zim scoffed in return, pulling the leg back and blinking when some kind of… substance began leaking from the briefcase.
“IS… that the NORMAL amount of blood in a briefcase?”
“Huh? Oh. No. Hm. I think this is from me?”
“OH.”
“Huh.”
“You... seem… calm about this??”
“Mhm! Yep! I think I might be in a little bit of shock.” He lifted the briefcase above his head. “Oh, man, that’s not good.”
And then he ragdolled across the pavement.
Zim telescoped back down to the ground, squinting.
“DIB. Are you dead.”
He poked him with his foot (careful, to avoid germs)
“I CAN’T GLOAT ABOUT YOU BEING DEAD IF YOU’RE DEAD!”
Poke poke.
“GET UP, SMELLY!” He rolled his eyes. Theoretically. It would be a bit hard to tell, what with the lack of pupils.
“WELL. THIS SUCKS. CAN’T YOU JUST UN-DEAD YOURSELF?”
“That’s not how it works, idiot!”
Zim sighed. FINALLY, he’s come to his senses and stopped being dead. Or. Maybe not? He nudged the… lump. Again. Huh. Still seemed pretty deceased. Turning around to head away from the potential crime scene, he managed to find himself face to face. Again. With-
“Jeez, you alien freak, WATCH where you’re GOING!” Dib threw his hands in the air.
“Eh - AREN’T YOU DEAD?” He pointed behind him, accusingly.
“What? No!” A pause. “Um. Yeah. Okay. Maybe I am.”
Zim stuck a hand through Dib’s now-translucent head, marvelling as it passed right through.
“Oh, see, that’s nasty. That’s nasty and SO wrong.”
“Are - ARE YOU HAUNTING ZIM?!”
“Oh - Oh. Oh, I am. Oh. ” His face broke out in a grin. “I CAN MESS WITH YOU FOREVER! And you can NEVER get back at me. Man, Why didn’t I think of this?” Dib flicked Zim’s head, and cackled (not without a noticeable voice crack) at the face he made in return.
“GRRGR-!” He swatted at air. “BUT YOU’RE DEAD! AND THAT’S BAD! I think.” He squinted momentarily.
“Hm. Yeah, you’re right. This does kinda suck. Ugh-and I’ll miss tonight’s Mysterious Mysteries too! Unless I possess the T.V…? Oh, no, that won’t work. Gaz knows how to perform exorcisms…” He tapped his chin, not seeming to notice that his hand just phased through his jaw.
“I HATE how your brain works.” He gagged, kicking the pile that was Dib behind him.
“Dude, cut that out! You totally owe me now!”
“WHAT!”
“You OWE me.”
“WHAT!!”
“YOU-”
“STOP YELLING! WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM?” He crinkled his face up, flicking another hand through Dib’s corporeally challenged figure.
“MY PROBLEM IS YOU KILLED ME! ZIM!!”
“Well. I’M not HELPING you.” He crossed his arms, turning his chin up.
“Okay.” Dib shrugged, grin breaking out again. “Good luck stopping me from messing around in your base when nothing can touch me.”
“WHAT! YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DO THAT!”
“How’re you gunna stop me, ZIM?”
“I -” He lifted a finger, crumbling almost instantly into a severe case of what looked like brain flu.
“That’s what I thought, space-boy.” He folded his arms, shooting Zim a glance and with an unnecessarily smug expression on the side.
“EUGH.” He glanced back to the late Dib, now slightly less late due to supernatural reasons. He stuck his tongue out, being super mature and all.
“Great. Fantastic.” He clapped his hands together. They slipped right through one another. “So! You’re going to let me use your alien supercomputer to fix this!”
“HMPH.” Zim scowled. “YOU’RE LUCKY YOU’RE DEAD, DIB. ”
“You know, most people would refute that statement.”
“TRUE. True. But I hate you!”
“Fair point!”
“Yes. Zim is very fair.” He nods, as if this is sage advice and this situation is AT ALL normal. Even for him. He grunts, heading around towards the direction of his base, the day seeming to catch up with him. Dib in tow, of course.
Hopefully, the debacle would be over shortly.
“ZIM! STOP STICKING YOUR HANDS THROUGH MY HEAD!!”
But it was unlikely.