Author's Note: I never actually got into this show back when it was originally airing. I remember recognizing that Zim had the same voice as Daggett from The Angry Beavers, and I thought GIR was absolutely adorable in his dog costume, but that was pretty much the extent of my experience with the show.

It wasn't until last year that I decided to watch the series from the beginning, and I found myself enjoying the twisted sense of humor. I'm excited about the new TV movie. In the meantime, I've decided to plunge into the world of insanity that is Invader ZIM by writing this fic. Enjoy, fellow humans.

Disclaimer: Invader ZIM © Jhonen Vasquez

On a typical bleak morning like today, it seemed as if nothing could ever penetrate the endless monotony. However, the students would soon learn they'd have a chance to add some excitement to their excruciatingly dull lives, as Ms. Bitters had an announcement.

"Children," the misanthropic teacher said, sitting at her desk, "I'm obliged to inform you that the Skool board has decided to reincorporate physical education back into the curriculum. Frankly, I couldn't care less about the so-called positive aspects of friendly competition or teamwork, but the way I see it, the less time I have to spend with you mongrels, the better off we'll all be."

The students stared at her with blank expressions as they always did, not a single one of them the least bit rattled by the news. Dib was the first and only one to raise his hand.

"Yes, Dib," Ms. Bitters said, "I assume you have an infuriatingly inane question."

Ignoring the dig, he asked, "Why was phys ed removed from the curriculum in the first place?"

The elderly teacher pursed her hairy upper lip. "Let's just say there was a student who suffered an injury after he was 'accidentally' impaled by a spiked shuttlecock," she said, holding up a pointed hand to make air quotes. "He has since regained his eyesight, and the lawsuit has been settled, so now you children get to reap the benefits of brutally competing with each other in organized sports."

The students held their deadpan looks of indifference, all except for Zim, whose interest piqued at the prospect of engaging in extreme acts of violence against the inferior humans. Of course, by the time he marched into the gymnasium, his initial intrigue only dampened as he took in his new surroundings with increasing disgust. The gym smelled of sweaty socks and looked about as appealing as a run-down insane asylum: dirty floors and flickering fluorescent lights, not to mention the fact that everyone was being held there against their will.

Even less appealing was the gym teacher, Mr. Cramps, whose grotesque rolls of belly fat gave off the impression that he'd never exercised a single day in his entire life. He lugged over a mesh bag filled with dodgeballs and dropped it in front of the gathered students.

"Welcome to gym class," he said in a gruff voice. "You kids are going to play dodgeball while I stand in the corner and regret every poor life decision I ever made that led me to this worthless occupation." Suddenly, his eyes bulged with the realization that he'd revealed too much. He looked around shiftily and cleared his throat. "I mean, I'll… supervise. Any questions?"

Zim's hand shot up.

"Yes, kid with the hideous skin condition."

"I was wondering if you could perhaps go over the rules of this, er… dodging of balls game of which you speak," Zim said, only to add, "Of course, as a completely normal Earth human, I am already familiar with the rules, but I'm sure it will be helpful for the much, much dumber humans such as, say, DIB!"

The paranormal-obsessed boy narrowed his eyes at Zim, who pointed an accusing finger at him, baring his teeth in an evil grin.

"I know how to play dodgeball, Zim," Dib said. "Of course, I'm not an alien bent on destroying our entire planet."

"SILEEEEENCE!" Zim said as he shook a clenched fist. He promptly directed his mounting impatience at the gym teacher, pointing at him now as he shouted, "Speak, you monstrous PIG BEAST!"

Mr. Cramps scratched the back of his bald head, not exactly jumping at the opportunity to cater to Zim. However, he proceeded to reach into the bag and pull out a purple ball.

"You divide into two teams and try not to get hit as you hurl balls at each other until only one person remains. Got that, green kid?"

He tossed the ball to Zim, who caught it and held it up at eye level. His face scrunched in confusion as he twirled the ball around and gave it a squeeze.

"It's so round and… squishy. This hardly seems like a formidable weapon."

"Yeah, whatever," Mr. Cramps said. "I need two of you to be team captains. Anyone interested?"

Zim's eyes snapped open wide, and immediately he swept his arm up high and waved his hand around frantically. "Me, me! Pick Zim! There is no one else worthier of being team captain than Zim!"

He kept waving his hand back and forth with the speed of a rabid pigeon wildly flapping its wings, while Mr. Cramps stared out at the students without even a flinch, looking right past Zim as he put a hand to his flabby chin.

"How about… you two."

He pointed at the two smallest girls in the class. They exchanged a perplexed glance and shrugged, each of them walking forward to fulfill their duties as team captains.

Zim, meanwhile, chucked the dodgeball in frustration. It bounced off the ground and hit him square in the face, to which he yowled.

"Curse you humans and your squishy balls of pain."

As he rubbed his freshly bruised face, Dib sidled up to him.

"What's the matter, Zim?" he asked, filled with biting mockery. "Afraid you won't be able to keep up with us inferior humans and beat us at our own game?"

Zim's eyes narrowed at his rival as he dropped his gloved claw from his face. "Foolish, pathetic Earth boy! You dare taunt Ziiiiim? Just wait and see as I destroy you all at this insolent game of ball-dodge!"

"Dodgeball," Dib said.

"Whatever," Zim said, and he capped off his promise of victory with a grand, maniacal laugh. He became so caught up in the moment that when he finally stopped, he realized everyone was now staring at him. He straightened up, not bothering to say anything to ward off the attention, as no one ever dared to question his random bursts of evil laughter.

Sure enough, the students all turned away, uncaring as ever, and the two girls finally began picking their teammates.

"Zita."

"Lug."

"Fay."

"Kit."

"Mev."

"Torque."

Back and forth they went, selecting different classmates to join their teams until, coincidentally, only Zim and Dib remained. The two of them bore similar looks of intense loathing, complete with furrowed brows and seething glares.

With a disgruntled sigh, the first girl said, "I guess I'll pick Zim."

"Heh?" Zim said, breaking eye contact with Dib to look quizzically at her for a moment, before he turned back to his foe and cackled. "At last! Prepare to be defeated by Zim!"

"Ugh," the second girl said. "That means Dib's stuck on our team. He's crazy."

"Hey," Dib said, "I'm standing right here."

"I know."

Dib's brows sank as he sulked over and joined his reluctant teammates. It was bad enough getting picked last, but getting picked last over his mortal enemy, who, until mere moments ago, didn't even know what dodgeball was, only added salt to the festering wound. With this cruel knowledge eating away at him, a fire ignited in Dib, and his face hardened with cold determination as a single thought entered his mind:

Zim's going down.

Mr. Cramps blew his whistle, and with that, the game commenced. As dodgeballs flew back and forth across the room, Dib kept his eyes on Zim, who did nothing at first. The alien simply stood there, his disguised eyeballs darting around as dodgeballs struck his teammates one by one. Eventually, a ball rolled towards him, and he stared at it for a while before hesitantly scooping it up. Right at that moment, Dib knew he was in for it. As expected, Zim locked eyes with him, a sadistic grin spreading across his face, his target set.

With little time to react, Dib made a run for it as Zim heaved the ball in his direction. He managed to duck behind an unsuspecting girl whose bangs covered her eyes. The dodgeball instead collided into Keef, knocking him flat on his back. A mere moment later, though, he sprang back up, completely unharmed, and skipped over to the bleachers with the other eliminated players, grinning like the happy little fool he was.

Zim stomped his foot and clenched his hands so hard they trembled at his sides. During his bout of blind rage, a ball flew towards him, only to skim past his head, missing it by barely an inch. Zim's eyes snapped open wide as he blinked and looked around in alarm, before his gaze zeroed in on Dib yet again. He narrowed his eyes, as did Dib. The two of them stood still, staring each other down, even as kids ran around in failed attempts to avoid getting hit by a dodgeball.

Their rapidly dwindling teams didn't deter either one of them, though, as their focus remained solely on each other. Zim unclenched his fists, leaving his hands hanging at his sides. Dib took a step backward, and then another, slowly making his way to an abandoned dodgeball, all the while never once taking his eyes off his opponent. When he reached the ball, he picked it up and raised it above his head, ready to throw.

At that same moment, Zim reached behind his back and, somehow, amazingly, withdrew a dodgeball. Dib's eyes widened, while Zim's smirk only grew larger. The second Zim threw the ball, Dib took off, and the dodgeball wound up hitting Gretchen, who'd been staring longingly at Dib the whole time.

Fueled with agitation for once again missing his target, Zim rushed over to one of his teammates, Torque, and snatched the ball out of the larger boy's hands. Immediately, Zim chucked the ball, sending it hurtling at the opposing team and knocking out another random student. In a frenzy, Zim stole another ball out of someone's hands and launched it at Dib, who dashed out of the line of fire just in time.

Zim slapped a hand to his forehead, digging his fingers into his flesh as if he wanted to claw his own face in sheer infuriation. Dib decided to seize the opportunity to knock him out while he was down, and with no time to waste, he threw his dodgeball. There wasn't as much power behind his toss, but his aim was precise, and he could already feel the excitement building as he knew Zim was done for good. Sadly for him, an oblivious Torque wandered in front of Zim. The ball bounced off his stomach, and Dib's heart dropped. Torque froze, looking down at the ball and back up at Dib, glaring at him, when suddenly, his eyes filled with tears. He hung his head in shame as he slumped off to the bleachers.

At that point, Dib took a moment to look around and realize he and Zim were, miraculously, the only two left in the game. He didn't have time to dwell on it as Zim had already swiped up a ball in preparation for his next attack. Dib looked around in desperate search of another ball, and he finally spotted one in the corner of the room. He looked back at Zim, who now stood calmly, which was all the more unsettling. Dib held his stance, exhaling a quiet breath. Zim's grasp tightened around the dodgeball, and a second later, Dib took off running. Still, Zim waited. Dib was breathing hard now as he grabbed the dodgeball and turned back to see a ball hurtling at him. He ducked, and the ball slammed into the wall.

Now Zim froze, his eyes darting around in a panic for another ball. Dib panted, knowing it was now or never. With Zim caught off guard, he hurled the ball with all the strength he had. Zim's eyes bulged as he turned to make a run for it, but it was too late. The ball hit him in the back, and the sight unfolded for Dib in glorious slow motion as Zim let out a long, agonizing cry and collapsed to the ground. He lay there as the ball bounced away, the sound echoing throughout the silent gymnasium.

Mr. Cramps blew the whistle.

"Congratulations, Tib, your team wins," he said with no emotion, and he turned away. "I'm going to go eat my weight in doughnuts."

Dib simply stood there, motionless, far too shell-shocked to point out that he'd said his name incorrectly. All he could do was stare at Zim, who slowly dragged himself to his feet, pressing a splayed hand to his back as he straightened his spine or whatever it was he had inside his nasty alien body.

"I won," Dib said, letting the words sink in for a moment, before a burst of euphoria consumed him. "I won! Ha! You hear that, Zim? I've defeated you! How does it feel to lose to a human, huh, Space Boy?"

He laughed uproariously, oblivious to the fact that as he celebrated his victory, Zim was already plotting his revenge.

"You should've seen him, Gaz," Dib said, still talking about his win hours later. "He looked so dejected, so incredibly miserable over his humiliating defeat. I wish I'd had my camera!"

Gaz sat next to him at their otherwise empty lunch table, playing her Game Slave 2. "How many times do I have to tell you before you finally get it through that obnoxiously big head of yours that I don't want you to talk to me at lunch, let alone ever, Dib?"

Dib blinked and lowered his arms as he glanced at his sister and asked, in genuine curiosity, "Then why do you always sit with me?"

Gaz snapped her head up, glowering at him with her perpetually squinting eyes, a menacing scowl on her face. She lowered her head and returned to playing her game without a word. Dib simply shrugged and grabbed his Poop juice box, taking a sip.

"DIB-HUMAN!"

Dib spit out his drink and turned around to find Zim standing there with a calculating grin on his face.

"What do you want, alien scum?"

The corner of Zim's mouth ticked up. "I'm glad you asked," he said, and he placed a hand on his chest. "I, the amazing, brilliant Zim, challenge you, the filthy, worthless Dib, to a rematch of dodging ball during… eh… skippy frolicking playground time."

"It's called recess," Dib said.

"Who cares?!" Zim said, throwing up both hands as his fingers writhed like spindly wires. He paused, collecting himself, and dropped his hands. "So… What do you say, Dib? Will you accept my challenge, or will you cower back in smelly fear, proving once and for all that I truly am the superior being?"

Dib lowered his eyebrows, the spark of wrath igniting once more. "You'll never be superior, Zim," he said in as threatening a tone he could muster, which admittedly wasn't much. "And if it's a rematch you want, fine, I'll play your stupid game. I just hope you'll be prepared to lose all over again!"

"Oh, don't worry, I will come very prepared," Zim said.

He spread out his arms and let out another evil laugh, one that quickly grew in intensity, before he stopped on a dime and walked away in silence.

"He won't win," Dib said. "Mark my words, Gaz. I'll defeat him again. You'll see."

"Oh, how I wish I cared," Gaz said, every word dripping with scathing sarcasm.

Zim slipped into an empty hallway after surveying the perimeters to ensure no one was there. Once clear, his PAK produced a mechanical rod, which opened into a video screen to reveal his robot servant, GIR, back at their base. He sat on the couch, mindlessly watching TV.

"GIR!"

GIR's eyes glowed red as he snapped to attention and gave a salute. "Yes, Master!"

"Pay close attention," Zim said. "I need you to go down to the lab and retrieve the cloaking device I've been working on. Bring it to Skool immediately."

GIR's red eyes faded back to their usual blue. "Aw, but I wanna watch my show," he whined. "The monkey's getting hit with a mallet!"

"You can watch your idiotic show after you bring me my cloaking device," Zim said. "Now, be a good robot slave and fetch me the device, GIR! HURRY!"

"Okey dokey!"

The call transmission ended. GIR hopped off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, heading towards the secret passageway toilet that led to the lab. The nearby refrigerator caught his eye, and he halted in his tracks, staring at the fridge with rapt attention. He placed his hands on his metallic tummy.

"Hmm… I'mma make some food!"

At recess, Zim looked around for any sight of GIR.

"Where is he? My entire plan relies on using that device! Why must my evil scheme be foiled by such an incompetent henchman? Why?"

"Well, well, well," Dib said, stepping in front of Zim. "Talking to yourself, huh? And I thought I was the only one who did that on a regular basis. What's wrong, Zim? Cracking under the pressure as you await your inevitable loss?"

"NEVER!" Zim said. "I'm just waiting for my, uh… pizza delivery."

"Pizza delivery?" Dib said, raising a brow, before shaking his head. "Look, are we going to play this annoying game already, or can we move on from this pointlessness so I can return to my ongoing quest to put a stop to you?"

"You shall never stop meeeee!" Zim said, but a second later, he folded his arms, conceding. "Fine. I'll just have to do this without my… pizza. Let us play dodge the ball!"

"It's… Oh, whatever, close enough," Dib said, and he headed towards the opposite end of the crudely drawn concrete field. "Let's get this over with, alien menace."

"Menace? I like that," Zim said. "Prepare for your demise, Dib!"

He took out a dodgeball and hurled it, watching in rising anticipation as it flew towards Dib, who caught it with both hands.

"That's game," Dib said.

"Heh?" Zim said. "Impossible!"

"No, it's the rules," Dib said, placing the ball on the ground. "I'm gonna go now."

Dib walked away, while Zim clenched his teeth, boiling over in an uncontrollable rage. He glanced from side to side and dove behind a nearby bush. His PAK produced the video screen again to show GIR, who stood at the kitchen counter, covered with specks of what appeared to be pink sludge.

"GIR!"

A wide grin stretched across GIR's face as he waved. "Hiiii!"

"What's taking you so long? I need my cloaking device!"

"Ohhhh, yeah," GIR said.

"Bring it to me NOW, GIR! And what is that filth all over you?"

GIR stopped and looked himself over as if noticing the mess for the first time. "I don't know."

"Well, clean yourself up and get down here. I refuse to wallow in the stink of failure by allowing Dib to have this victory."

He ended the call, but GIR didn't move. He simply stood there, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, not a care in the universe. Only when the oven timer rang did he erupt with excitement.

"YAY! FOOD!"

Meanwhile, Zim stepped out of the shrub, when out of nowhere, a light shined directly in his face. He shielded his eyes, stumbling backward, where he felt his foot tap something. A tiny object lay at his feet, glinting off the sunlight, and his eyes popped in recognition. He picked up the small object, a microchip that had fallen out of his PAK. With a wicked grin, Zim rushed up to Dib, who sat by himself in the corner of the playground, reading a copy of Stoopid Alienz magazine.

"You think this is over, Dib? Think again, Earth monkey, for I, ZIM, challenge you to another rematch of balling dodge!"

Dib looked up from his magazine and sighed. "As anti-climactic as my second victory was, I always enjoy seeing you fail, so… fine, whatever."

"Excellent," Zim said.

He walked back to the field with an apathetic Dib in tow. Picking up the infernal dodgeball, Zim clutched it tightly, this time refusing to get ahead of himself by throwing it too soon at his nemesis. And so, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Minutes stretched, though Zim did nothing but hold the ball and stare down Dib, who eventually folded his arms.

"Okay, I don't know what type of mind trickery you're trying to pull, Zim, but I'm getting tired of standing around doing nothing, so either throw the ball or—"

The bell rang.

"Oh well, look at that, playground time is over," Zim said in haste. "Looks like we'll have to wait to continue our game after Skool."

Dib's eyes narrowed. "Fine. We'll play it your way. I'll still beat you."

As Dib walked off, Zim ran his palm along the dodgeball, where he'd planted the microchip. It sparked with electricity, steadily charging.

"We'll just see about that, won't we, Dib?"

"What?"

Zim looked up to see Dib still standing close by. "Er, nothing. Nothing at all. Be gone with you!"

Dib stared at him in suspicion for a beat, but finally, he turned away and headed back into Skool. Zim stashed the dodgeball into his PAK and followed.

At the end of the Skool day, Zim stood on the front steps of the building, cradling the now fully charged dodgeball, which glowed an ominous, translucent red. The second Dib walked out with his sister, he jumped in front of them.

"I hope you enjoyed your puny victory, Dib, for it will be your last!"

Dib blinked, looking around. "How long have you been standing out here?"

"Do not question me!"

"Okay…" Dib turned to his sister. "You go ahead, Gaz. This shouldn't take long. In fact, I'll probably—"

Gaz retreated down the Skool steps without looking back. Dib watched her for a moment before turning back to Zim, at which point he finally noticed the glowing sphere in his hands.

"Hey, wait a second," he said. "The ball… What'd you do to it?"

"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Zim said.

"Don't play coy with me, Zim. I bet you used some kind of bizarre alien technology to make the ball all weird and… glowy."

"So what if I did?"

"So what? That's cheating!"

"Is it?" Zim said. "Because, as I recall, it was you who said we'll play it my way. So, Dib… We shall play my way."

The ball illuminated even brighter, and Dib's eyes grew wide.

Gaz sat alone at the kitchen table when her father entered, not in person, but on his hovering screen.

"Good evening, daughter. How was Skool today?"

"Stupid."

Professor Membrane let out a hearty chuckle. "Well, that's too bad, as a good education is the backbone of a thriving society! Now then…" Two robotic arms shot out of the screen, cradling a bowl of soupy beef stew in each. "Let's—" He gasped. "Egad! Where is your brother?"

"Playing dodgeball with his best friend, Zim," Gaz said.

"Ah, yes, the foreign boy," Professor Membrane said. "I'm glad your brother has finally found a nice little friend with whom he gets along so splendidly. Nevertheless, you know the rules. Nobody eats until all family members are physically present at the table."

"But you're not physically present," Gaz said. "How come that stupid rule doesn't apply to you?"

A short silence followed, and for a moment Gaz thought the screen had frozen, until her dad let out another laugh.

"Well, honey, when you grow up and become a parent one day, you can make as many stupid rules that only benefit you and your selfish needs as you want!" Professor Membrane said. The robotic limbs retreated, taking the bowls with them. "That said, you should run along now and find your brother so we can all enjoy dinner together. Until then, all food is on lockdown."

The entire kitchen flashed with red lights as a siren went off, and locked chains wrapped around the refrigerator, cupboards and drawers. Once complete, the alarm ceased, and Professor Membrane's floating screen disappeared into another room.

Alone once more, Gaz grit her teeth, growling with the ferocity of a feral beast.

"Dib."

Dib's ragged breathing pounded in his ears as he sprinted down the street with Zim gaining on him. An extended claw from his PAK held up the dodgeball, which had inflated a hundred times its normal size. He let out a demonic laugh.

"You can't run forever, Dib!"

"When's he gonna throw that stupid ball already?" Dib asked himself, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "It's been hours!"

The answer came a moment later when Zim launched the massive ball at him. Dib leapt out of the way just in time, landing in a heap on the sidewalk. He panted heavily and watched as the ball rolled down the street. Nobody seemed to notice, and in fact, the ball missed every single person who happened to walk in its path. A telephone pole soon punctured it, and the glow faded as the enormous ball deflated across a busy intersection. Cars swerved, avoiding a collision, and everyone involved in the ordeal came out entirely unscathed.

Zim went rigid. His eye twitched. His jaw clenched. His hands tightened. And finally, he screamed at the top of his nonexistent lungs, his lizardly tongue contorting.

"What kind of cruel, horrible joke is this? How is it even possible that I still have yet to hit Dib's head? It's GINORMOUS! Oh, if only I had my—GIR!"

The robot, dressed in his doggie disguise, trotted over to Zim with a plastic bag in hand.

"Finally, my loyal minion, you've brought me my cloaking device! There's still a chance for me to destroy Dib after all. Give it here, GIR!"

GIR reached into the bag and dropped something into Zim's outstretched hand. Zim's once eager grin wiped off his face as he stared at the foreign object, a mushy ball. He brought it closer and gave it a poke, only to grimace.

"What in the name of Irk is this revolting item?"

"I made meatballs!" GIR said. He took out another one and popped it into his mouth, chewing it in a few messy bites.

"Balls of… meat?" Zim said. His eyes popped with a revelation. "That's what was covered all over you earlier. Flecks of uncooked, fleshy… human food!"

As GIR chowed down, Dib approached them, brushing some debris off himself.

"Well, I guess we know once and for all who the true superior being is, huh, Zim?"

"Yes, of course, but we've known that all along. And the answer is ZIM!"

He tossed the meatball at Dib, hitting him in the face and leaving behind chunks of meat as it slid off and landed on the ground.

Zim cackled some more. "At last… VICTORY FOR ZIM!"

Dib wiped the food off his face, pausing to take a bite of it. "This is a meatball."

"Doesn't matter, I win!"

"No, you don't! Besides, I'm still in the lead with two wins."

"Nuh-uh, you lost. Deal with it!"

"Okay, now you're just being annoying."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are—"

"Hey, Dib!"

Both Dib and Zim snapped their heads to find Gaz standing several feet away, grasping a thick, black ball with a skull painted on it.

"Gaz!" Dib said. "I'm glad you're here. And, what a coincidence, you brought a ball! I could use it to—"

With a vicious snarl, Gaz hurled the ball at Dib. It whipped through the air at lightning speed, smacking him in the head and knocking him face-first to the ground. She walked over and picked him up by the wrist, dragging his unconscious body along the pavement, while Zim's eyes followed her.

"The Dib-sibling is a commendable warrior," he said, before swiftly dismissing the thought and raising his arms in triumph. "Soon I will conquer all of you pathetic HUMANS!"

Halfway down the block, Dib let out a garbled noise of agony as he lifted his head to reveal a large, throbbing welt.

"Did I win?" he asked in a daze.

Gaz glanced down at him. Even with his bruised-up face and his glasses askew, he still had that maddening spark of deranged hope in his eyes. A rare chord of pity struck her, and she heaved a sigh.

"Hang on," she said, and dropped his limp wrist. She stepped over him and walked over to her forgotten dodgeball, picking it up. "Hey, Zim."

"Heh?"

Gaz launched the ball, sending it hurtling at Zim and hitting him upside the head. He flipped over and, like Dib, face-planted into the ground. Victorious, Gaz scooped up her ball and grabbed her brother by the wrist to resume dragging him down the sidewalk. Dib managed to pump his fist before passing out cold again.

As for Zim, he lay sprawled across the ground, moaning, when GIR walked up. He plopped himself on top of the defeated alien, who let out a yelp, but did nothing to protest as GIR happily scarfed down the rest of his meatballs.