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Description
TFT-
Warnings: english cigaretts, Arcades, DDR and insane aliens. Link to first chapter in AN.

“Zim, I cannot believe you’re dragging me into the arcade…”

“Quiet Earth-beast, Zim has spotted DDR with amazing ocular prowess”

“Oh god…”

Arcade: n. a loud crowded room full of dorky teenagers and obsessive gamers who put far too much stock in game scores. See loony bin

The human jammed his heels into the shoddy carpeting and refused to move. Zim took his ‘friend’ by the hand and dragged the protesting boy across the room.

There happened to be a patron already blowing brain cells on the all-too-loud game, which Dib took as a sign that god still loved him, regardless of the pudding fiasco last week.

“Hey! You! Meat Creature!” Shouted the insane Irken.

“Ziiiim, just let it go,” The human prisoner begged.

“Get your filthy feet off that dance training simulator!” Zim continued, ignoring his captive’s pleas.

With a look of great superiority, the dancing idiot blew the companions a very loud, very rude raspberry.

“Oh, well isn’t that polite,” muttered Dib.

“That does it!” screeched the alien. “No more will this planet defy the will of all-mighty ZIM!”

Dropping his hostage, Zim jumped at the earthling with flying abandon, latching onto his back and scratching at his face with horrible, horrible claws of Doom.

Heh, ‘doom’.

The paranormalist stood slack jawed through the cacophony, watching as his rival landed the final blow and sent his enemy running from the room crying like a fifteen-year-old baby.

“VICTORY! Victory for Zim!” The invader cackled, throwing his hands in the air and bowing to imaginary applause.

“That’s very nice.” The teenager patronized, backing up inch by inch. “Now maybe we should go…”

“Nonsense…” chortled his opposite, once again grabbing Dib’s hands and dragging him across the floor.

“But I really don’t wanna,” insisted the human.

“Of course you do. You just don’t know it. But Zim knows… Oh, Zim knows…”

Dib shot him a startled look, wondering what exactly Zim knew.

“C’mon, Earth-stench. The dancing mania awaits!”

So there he was, dancing like a particularly embarrassed crazy person on the Dance Dance Revolution 4000.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

“Zim, you’ve beat me four times in a row! Can we get the heck out of here now?” Dib begged, slinking away from the zombie stares of the other DDR-slaves.

“Hmm….” The invader considered quite seriously, “If the Dib will admit that the Irken race is FAR superior to his own lowly race—” he stopped and eyed the hoards of children surrounding the game station “—WHICH I AM A PART OF—then we can stop the game.”

Oh, the dilemma in the Earthling’s oversized head!

I should, but then I’d be giving up a victory for EARTH! But on the other hand, I really want to get out of here… But on the third hand…

“Alright, the Irken race is FAR superior to my lowly race,” conceded the human, slyly crossing his fingers. As if that would make a difference.

“Another victory for ZIM!” He shouted, jumping off the platform with terrifying abandon. But what wasn’t terrifying about Zim?

“Yeah, yeah, now lets get out of here. We still need to find Mr. C,” Dib pointed out

“Not so fast… Zim has merely promised to end the game,” said Zim, wrapping an arm around his best enemy. “A new deal must be made for escape from the hell of dancing meat creatures.”

“Wha--?”

“Hey! Fag boys!” Came a shout from all of five feet away. Normally, that would be deafening, but with the sounds of animated violence bombarding the room, it was actually about the right decibel.

“Excuse me?” Answered the investigator.

“Yeah, you! What are you, gay? Heh, gay boys, fags, FAIRIES!” screeched the unpleasant youth.

“WHAT?!?” shrieked Zim in return. “Zim is no winged filth beast! And not gay either,” he mentioned as an after thought.

“Oh yeah? Then why’s your arm around your sissy friend? Huh? Huh?”

“The Dib is my fellow mall-go-err and neither is he gay!” the alien shoved a finger dangerously close to his opposition’s face.

“Yeah?” the teenager responded, knocking away the finger, “Why don’t you let him talk for himself?”

“Alright! Dib-beast, talk this nonsense from his filthy brain of cheese.”

“Uh… I think I’ll stay out of this one…” Dib shifted uneasily.

“What? Why does Dib not wish to defend his honor? Is this not a great (if terribly shallow) insult to a male Earthling’s pride?” The Irken flailed, accidentally knocking out his former opponent.

“…Um…” Zim started, “…VICTORY! Victory for Ziiiim! Yes, this was my plan from the beginning. Yeah.”

Dib shook his head, thanking the almighty Gods of Elevator Doors for his narrow escape.

“Mhmm…” the green boy continued, “Yeah, you should really start working on that score. So far it’s ZIM Victory #3 and Dib victory love.”

“Eh?” the paranormalist started, confused by the tennis terminology.

“Don’t change the subject, Dib-filth. I was about to ask you a question before my BRILLIANT plan was set into motion. Oh, and I was going to ask you to take your turn now.”

“Oh… um…” Dib gave up looking for a way out and sighed dejectedly. “Take me out of this hell-hole and I’ll do both at the same time.”

“Okay.” Zim agreed happily, dragging his once-again hostage out by the arm.

Once they were safely out the door and into the bright clean air, standing stably on the tiled white floor, the blue-clad boy took a breath. He leaned up against the white plaster column along the dangerously unstable railing. The top floor of the mall always freaked him out.

It was a funny feeling, almost like a voice inside his chest were whispering “jump, Dib, jump. It won’t hurt you. Wouldn’t it be fun to fly through the air? To defy the rules for once? I think it would…”

No, he ordered himself, stop thinking like that. It’s creepy.

“Ah… okay… Here’s the deal. Over the last couple years, I started noticing things like… when they showed girls on music videos, I got really bored, really fast… and when we did the anatomy section last semester, I got more embarrassed by the male section than the female…”

“Oookay” Zim tilted his head. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, the secret is… I really am gay.”

“Eh?” Zim tilted his head the other way. “What does—OOOOH!”

“Yes,” agreed the ‘fairy’. “But please be more quiet about it!”

“Oh, filthy Earth boy,” Laughed the invader, “On reflection, it really was quite obvious… How in the world does the school not know? I mean, this does explain the locker room…”

Dib winced, “Please don’t bring that up. And they do, sort of. Well, they don’t know, but…” the teenager floundered.

“Save your breath, Dib-beast. Zim comprehends your juvenile fears. On the Irken honor of secrecy, I pledge not to tell any other Earth creature of your ‘shame’.”

“Swear?” he pleaded.

“By the Land and Sky, none shall hear of this from Zim’s lips.” He raised a single clawed finger into the air, the alien version of a Boy Scout pledge.

“Oh… well… okay.” Dib was slightly taken aback. “How come your so normal about this?”

“Silly human,” chuckled the space menace, “I’m technically what your classmates would consider ‘gay’ as well, or has your inferior earth brain forgotten so soon?”

“My brain is not inferior!”

“Is too!”

“It is not!”

“Yes it is!”

“Wanna get Pizza!?!”

“Yeah!”

Description
TFT-
Warnings: english cigaretts, Arcades, DDR and insane aliens. Link to first chapter in AN.

“Zim, I cannot believe you’re dragging me into the arcade…”

“Quiet Earth-beast, Zim has spotted DDR with amazing ocular prowess”

“Oh god…”

Arcade: n. a loud crowded room full of dorky teenagers and obsessive gamers who put far too much stock in game scores. See loony bin

The human jammed his heels into the shoddy carpeting and refused to move. Zim took his ‘friend’ by the hand and dragged the protesting boy across the room.

There happened to be a patron already blowing brain cells on the all-too-loud game, which Dib took as a sign that god still loved him, regardless of the pudding fiasco last week.

“Hey! You! Meat Creature!” Shouted the insane Irken.

“Ziiiim, just let it go,” The human prisoner begged.

“Get your filthy feet off that dance training simulator!” Zim continued, ignoring his captive’s pleas.

With a look of great superiority, the dancing idiot blew the companions a very loud, very rude raspberry.

“Oh, well isn’t that polite,” muttered Dib.

“That does it!” screeched the alien. “No more will this planet defy the will of all-mighty ZIM!”

Dropping his hostage, Zim jumped at the earthling with flying abandon, latching onto his back and scratching at his face with horrible, horrible claws of Doom.

Heh, ‘doom’.

The paranormalist stood slack jawed through the cacophony, watching as his rival landed the final blow and sent his enemy running from the room crying like a fifteen-year-old baby.

“VICTORY! Victory for Zim!” The invader cackled, throwing his hands in the air and bowing to imaginary applause.

“That’s very nice.” The teenager patronized, backing up inch by inch. “Now maybe we should go…”

“Nonsense…” chortled his opposite, once again grabbing Dib’s hands and dragging him across the floor.

“But I really don’t wanna,” insisted the human.

“Of course you do. You just don’t know it. But Zim knows… Oh, Zim knows…”

Dib shot him a startled look, wondering what exactly Zim knew.

“C’mon, Earth-stench. The dancing mania awaits!”

So there he was, dancing like a particularly embarrassed crazy person on the Dance Dance Revolution 4000.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

“Zim, you’ve beat me four times in a row! Can we get the heck out of here now?” Dib begged, slinking away from the zombie stares of the other DDR-slaves.

“Hmm….” The invader considered quite seriously, “If the Dib will admit that the Irken race is FAR superior to his own lowly race—” he stopped and eyed the hoards of children surrounding the game station “—WHICH I AM A PART OF—then we can stop the game.”

Oh, the dilemma in the Earthling’s oversized head!

I should, but then I’d be giving up a victory for EARTH! But on the other hand, I really want to get out of here… But on the third hand…

“Alright, the Irken race is FAR superior to my lowly race,” conceded the human, slyly crossing his fingers. As if that would make a difference.

“Another victory for ZIM!” He shouted, jumping off the platform with terrifying abandon. But what wasn’t terrifying about Zim?

“Yeah, yeah, now lets get out of here. We still need to find Mr. C,” Dib pointed out

“Not so fast… Zim has merely promised to end the game,” said Zim, wrapping an arm around his best enemy. “A new deal must be made for escape from the hell of dancing meat creatures.”

“Wha--?”

“Hey! Fag boys!” Came a shout from all of five feet away. Normally, that would be deafening, but with the sounds of animated violence bombarding the room, it was actually about the right decibel.

“Excuse me?” Answered the investigator.

“Yeah, you! What are you, gay? Heh, gay boys, fags, FAIRIES!” screeched the unpleasant youth.

“WHAT?!?” shrieked Zim in return. “Zim is no winged filth beast! And not gay either,” he mentioned as an after thought.

“Oh yeah? Then why’s your arm around your sissy friend? Huh? Huh?”

“The Dib is my fellow mall-go-err and neither is he gay!” the alien shoved a finger dangerously close to his opposition’s face.

“Yeah?” the teenager responded, knocking away the finger, “Why don’t you let him talk for himself?”

“Alright! Dib-beast, talk this nonsense from his filthy brain of cheese.”

“Uh… I think I’ll stay out of this one…” Dib shifted uneasily.

“What? Why does Dib not wish to defend his honor? Is this not a great (if terribly shallow) insult to a male Earthling’s pride?” The Irken flailed, accidentally knocking out his former opponent.

“…Um…” Zim started, “…VICTORY! Victory for Ziiiim! Yes, this was my plan from the beginning. Yeah.”

Dib shook his head, thanking the almighty Gods of Elevator Doors for his narrow escape.

“Mhmm…” the green boy continued, “Yeah, you should really start working on that score. So far it’s ZIM Victory #3 and Dib victory love.”

“Eh?” the paranormalist started, confused by the tennis terminology.

“Don’t change the subject, Dib-filth. I was about to ask you a question before my BRILLIANT plan was set into motion. Oh, and I was going to ask you to take your turn now.”

“Oh… um…” Dib gave up looking for a way out and sighed dejectedly. “Take me out of this hell-hole and I’ll do both at the same time.”

“Okay.” Zim agreed happily, dragging his once-again hostage out by the arm.

Once they were safely out the door and into the bright clean air, standing stably on the tiled white floor, the blue-clad boy took a breath. He leaned up against the white plaster column along the dangerously unstable railing. The top floor of the mall always freaked him out.

It was a funny feeling, almost like a voice inside his chest were whispering “jump, Dib, jump. It won’t hurt you. Wouldn’t it be fun to fly through the air? To defy the rules for once? I think it would…”

No, he ordered himself, stop thinking like that. It’s creepy.

“Ah… okay… Here’s the deal. Over the last couple years, I started noticing things like… when they showed girls on music videos, I got really bored, really fast… and when we did the anatomy section last semester, I got more embarrassed by the male section than the female…”

“Oookay” Zim tilted his head. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, the secret is… I really am gay.”

“Eh?” Zim tilted his head the other way. “What does—OOOOH!”

“Yes,” agreed the ‘fairy’. “But please be more quiet about it!”

“Oh, filthy Earth boy,” Laughed the invader, “On reflection, it really was quite obvious… How in the world does the school not know? I mean, this does explain the locker room…”

Dib winced, “Please don’t bring that up. And they do, sort of. Well, they don’t know, but…” the teenager floundered.

“Save your breath, Dib-beast. Zim comprehends your juvenile fears. On the Irken honor of secrecy, I pledge not to tell any other Earth creature of your ‘shame’.”

“Swear?” he pleaded.

“By the Land and Sky, none shall hear of this from Zim’s lips.” He raised a single clawed finger into the air, the alien version of a Boy Scout pledge.

“Oh… well… okay.” Dib was slightly taken aback. “How come your so normal about this?”

“Silly human,” chuckled the space menace, “I’m technically what your classmates would consider ‘gay’ as well, or has your inferior earth brain forgotten so soon?”

“My brain is not inferior!”

“Is too!”

“It is not!”

“Yes it is!”

“Wanna get Pizza!?!”

“Yeah!”