Monday Morning. Twas a day beloved and revered by soulless, corporate workaholics everywhere. To everyone else it was misery. None felt this misery more so than the occupants of Skool Room Thirteen. Both teacher and students alike were miserable in Skool Room Thirteen, but it was hard to tell which party currently held the most misery. Was it the skoolchildren, dragged out of their warm beds five days out of every week to attend lesson on the soulcrushing reality of life? Or was it the teacher, whom was forced to deal with swarms of squealing, hyperactive, ungrateful children day-in-and-day-out?

Let us just assume that it was a fifty-fifty split, shall we?

Of course, this assumption would soon be rendered irrelevant as an announcement over the Skool speakers would soon cause some of the skoolchildren's misery to dissipate and tip the scale of misery back towards the teacher.

"... and that, children. Is why, despite the ILLUSION of democracy, we're all just living in one enormous Plutocracy! Controlled by Corporate Shareholders who hoard wealth and power like so many of your parents hoard garbage to fill the gaping holes in their petty, worthless lives!"

Several of the skoolchildren were begining to implode from depression when the P.A. System crackled to life, the cheery, posh, brainwashed voice of Skool President Willy pouring forth from the speakers.

"Greetings, chums and chumettes! This is Skool President William with a special announcement for you all! Our great and wonderful Skoolboard have graciously decided to schedule a dance this friday! The theme of the dance will be Mad Cow Disease, so be sure to bust a MOO-ve on the dancefloor! Ho-ho! Attendance-is-mandatory-any-and-all-skoolchildren- not-attending-the-dance-will-be-fined-and-given-a- prison-sentence-of-no-less-than-three-years. Chip-chip-cheerio! And see you all at the dance!"

The resulting excitement demonstrated from the skoolchildren upon hearing this news put riots to shame.

It was Wednesday when the Skoolboard finally regained control of the Skool and things were finally back on track, despite the presence of the Skool Guard. The debris in the halls and classrooms had been cleared away and replaced by posters and fliers announcing the upcoming dance. It was lunchtime and the skoolchildren were all chittering and chattering excitedly about the upcoming dance. Rumors of who was going with who began to circulate amongst the student body. It seemed as though all but a few had found themselves partners to take to the dance. Said few, and this would surprise no one, included the paranoid, big-headed boy, his scary sister, and the ugly green kid.

"I bet it'll be a robot."

Gaz grunted, not bothering to look up from her lunch as her brother theorized.

"I bet it explodes or starts vomiting oil or something like that!"

The violet-haired girl sighed, regretting the words that left her mouth almost instantly. "What are you talking about NOW, DIB."

"Zim. Just look at him!" The big-headed boy motioned towards the green-skinned boy across the lunchroom. "He's got that look..."

"What look?"

Dib scowled and clenched his fist as he spoke. "That smug look... I know that look. Look around, Gaz. Everyone is partnered up for the dance except for him!"

"Pfft! We aren't, either." The doomchild pointed out, watching as Poonchy threw a wadded up napkin at the trash can. As the napkin missed the trashcan and landed upon the floor, the Skool Guard surrounded the sweatband-wearing child with their plexiglass shields and started to club him with electrified nightsticks.

"Well... yeah. But, Zim will want to fit in, so he'll definitely try and show up with a date! And seeing as how he's not going with anyone from the skool, that means he'll probably have a robot or a clone or something back at his base that he's gonna bring!"

"And you care, why?" Gaz said, leaning on her elbow.

"Because it'll probably end up exploding or eating a tablecloth or something! And I'll be there, POINTING at it! Man, am I ever gonna point at it! Probably laugh, too." Dib grinned a wicked grin as he thought about all the pointing and or laughing he was going to do come friday. "I think I'm going to start right now!"

Now, while it is well known that Gaz hates roughly ninety-nine percent of everything, give or take, there is nothing she hates quite so much as the snorting, wheezing, HAPPY sound of her brother's laughter. She groaned, attempting to focus her hearing upon something, ANYTHING other than that horrible, nasally sound coming from her sibling. Unfortunately, her ears fell upon the skoolchild Jessica, the de facto popular kid.

"I know, right? I bet she ends up going to the dance with her brother. The loser. All she ever does is play that STUPID game! And she eats like a pig! I bet she weighs like seven-hundred pounds when she grows up-" It was at that point that the blonde girl found herself facedown in her mashed potatoes, beginning to suffocate upon the semi-liquid spuds as the girl she was gossiping about was holding her head down with one hand.

Gaz found that every-so-often she had to remind the other children about their place in the world in regards to talking about her. Hearing the heavy, jackbooted footsteps of the Skool Guard approaching behind her, Gaz whipped her head around, giving the encroaching thugs a stink eye so pungent it could peel wallpaper. For the first time in a long while, the Skool Guards knew fear, backing away from the nightmare child as she continued to assert her dominance. The violent, violet-haired girl pulled Jessica's face from the spuds, the blonde coughed and gasped for air.

"You little freak-" With a flick of her wrist, Gaz sent the Jessica's head bouncing off the table, causing the mouthy blonde to fall groaning to the floor. Well, that was one problem solved, Jessica's clique seemed sufficiently terrified of her now, the air around them stinking of fear. And just the faintest hint of urine.

Gaz would have allowed herself to feel just the slightest bit of happiness if it weren't for that sound. That awful, snorty, HAPPY sound. Dib was still laughing at the thought of Zim's pitiful future attempts to fit in. The doomchild considered doing what she had just done to Jessica to her sibling in order to put an end to the asthmatic-hyenasque laughter coming from his noisehole. But, that was always only a temporary solution. No, for this Gaz would need to be more creative. She needed something cruel. Something psychological.

Something green.

There was another laugh currently filling the air, she realized. This one was a lot more maniacal, which was appropriate as it belonged to an evil, alien invader. Snapping her head to her right, towards the almost empty table at which sat her brother's green-skinned nemesis. He continued to laugh for a moment longer before noticing that his laughter had drawn the attention of the plum-headed doomchild, instantly shutting up and looking down at the "food" on his tray, hoping that the girl's vision worked like that of a tyrannosaurus'. He looked up in shock at the sound of Gaz sitting down across from him at the table.

"Zim..."

"TAKEITIT'SALLIHAVEDON'THURTME!" Zim had decided to do the sensible thing and hand over all the currency on his person to the avatar of pain sitting in front of him. Gaz suddenly found herself stared at a gloved fist full of dollars, briefly tempted to take the money and be on her way, she fought the urge, she had come here for a different purpose. Brushing the bribe away and grabbing the terrified Irken by the front of his uniform and pulling him towards her.

"Listen carefully, Zim. I'm only going to ask this once." Gaz took a deep breath before forcing out the next couple of words as though they were physically hurting her to say, face twisting, sneering and twitching as she spoke.

"WILL... YOOOOOU... GO... TO... THEEEE... DAAAANCE... WITH... MEEEEEE?"

"Eh?" The Irken said, obviously not getting the message that she was only going to say this once. Gaz gave the alien a deadpanned look before raising her fist. His artificial pupils shrinking to pinpricks, Zim held up the money again, "DON'THURTME!"

"Yes or no, Zim."

"Well, I've already got an ingenious plan to- YES! YES! OF COURSE!" The Irken said, cowering as Gaz started to draw her fist back. Satisfied with this answer, the doomchild released her hold upon Zim's uniform, letting the Irken fall back to his seat.

"Good, be at my house at six on friday. And wear something less stupid." She grumbled as she got up from the table and strode back over to the table her brother was currently having a laughing fit on. She decided to put an end to that.

"Zim's taking me to the dance this friday."

Dib's laughter instantly ceased. Looking at his sister with eyes the size of buffet platters, he started to sputter. He was obviously trying to communicate, but he no longer seemed to have the capacity beyond gasping, wheezing, stuttering, sputtering and clutching at his heart, painfully.

Gaz highly preferred this noise to the laughter.

That afternoon, Zim walked through the Men's Room Door that was the front door of his base to proudly announce his success (as it were). "Change of plans! The Gaz-worm has agreed to be Zim's date to the dance! Operation: Ugly Cousin will no longer be needed!"

Skoodge, who was currently wearing a pigtailed version of his holographic human disguise and was being fitted for a dress by GIR and Minimoose, looked a tiny bit disappointed.

"... I can still keep the dress, right?"