Not Like the Rest

I decided to sicken you all, because you sicken me with all your ZaDr. I have nothing against it, but, however, there comes a point when an excessive amount of ZaDr starts to come, and, yeah. SERIOUSLY, WHENEVER I'M TRY'NA FIND A DIB STORY, ZIM HAS TO BE IN IT, THUS TURNING IT INTO ZADR. I are steel smurt.

Keep in mind this is going to be awful, considering the fact that my non-dominate hand is killing me, and that's the hand I'm holding up the iTouch with. Mreh. Hm. Trying to think. Oh yeah, it's also 1 am where I live. Heck, my room is hot! Can't sleep. Anyway, it's time for me to amuse you with my stupid one-shot instead of my… rambling. It goes from funny to more serious. Wait… nothing. Hah. Here's the thing.

"Master, what is you doin'?" The insane robot stared at Zim, who was busily looking at the man in white (or the "Dib-father as Zim referred to him as. But let's just call him the man in white, because that sounds less stupid than Zim's little nickname. We are all too smart for stupidity).
"These humans never DO ANYTHING." Zim pulled out a twig from nowhere and poked the screen with it.
"Why do you CARE, master?" Gir asked.
"GIR! SHUT IT! They're talking." Zim, the stalker cranked the volume up much louder than actually needed and listened. The man in white spoke to Dib and his "filthy sister".
"Daughter, you said Dib did it?" Zim jumped up from his computer chair.
"DIB'S GONNA BE GIVEN THE OLD WHAT-FOR!" Zim coughed so loudly that his throat began to burn and sat back down in his chair and continued to stalk— ahem, observe the figures in the screen.
"Yeah. He snatched my GameSlave our of my hand and threw it on the ground."
"I needed the insides of it for my ghost detector!"
"Oh, you're about to DETECT some wounds if you don't—"
"Calm down, you two. Son, how many times have I explained to you that you must not touch your sister's things? Daughter, violence is never the solution. I shall fix your video game. Both of you, please go to your rooms until you can think logically again." Zim smiled this odd, sinister smile, which, in reality, was his "sweet smile". Not that anyone would be able to tell.
"Gir… stay here and take care of… eh, stuff while I'm away. I must do something important." Gir just gave a high, animal-like cry and ran into the lower floor holding a fork and some jelly beans. Zim shook his head sadly. Poor Gir, he thought. Trapped in a permanent state of complete oblivion. Someday, it'll him hard. Zim walked out in the chill night. It began to lightly snow.
"I've better get to the Dib's house before I catch an Earth cold or something," Zim muttered to himself.
"Wait… is my body chemistry really that—" before Zim could finish his sentence, he tripped on something large and hard. He fell straight into the snow. The melting snow burned his face, and it caused extreme pain. He pitifully picked himself back up.
"Here's the Dib's house!" Zim got up and, with the little energy he had left, he knocked on the door. Zim heard heavy-sounding footsteps nearing the door. The doorknob clicked a bit, and the door swung open.
"Zim?"
"Eh?"
"Nothing, I just didn't expect to see you here. I suppose you can come in. It is snowing, and you look a little out of sorts." Zim rushed in, immediately excepting the welcome inside. Zim coughed.
"Ouch." Another cough.
"Ow…" Cough again. Professor Membrane turned to look at Zim.
"Are you alright, Zim?" Zim nodded.
"Of course, of course." Zim deeply coughed.
"Oh, OUCH."
"Zim, you probably caught a cold. It's supposed to be five degrees below zero tonight." Zim shivered and coughed again. He fell on the floor and curled up in a fetal position, a pained expression reflected on his face.
"Zim's just a slight bit unwell."
"Zim—" Professor Membrane put his hand over Zim's forehead.
"If you're a 'slight bit unwell', then why do you have a fever?"
"Because…"
Professor Membrane looked a Zim a bit more.
"Zim, you have… you have pneumonia."
"Eh?"
"You. Have. Pneumonia."
"Mhm." Zim didn't understand, though.
"What is your home phone number? I need to contact you parents."
"They're away." Zim's robot-human slave things wouldn't be able to help him, so he had to lie.
"To where?" Zim shrugged.
"They did not tell me that."
"Then you must stay with me. If pneumonia worsens, then… that's bad news."
"Okay…" there wasn't much more he could do. He was weakening…

I decided that this won't be a one-shot. I like the start so far. Not sure about you. Ugh, sorry for not updating for a few centuries or so (slight exaggeration). Skool n' stuff. I most likely won't be updating tomorrow, since tonight I really need my rest, having stayed up extremely late last night. (I'm writing this the day after this Fic was written, by the way.) Ugh, I hate the ending of this chapter. It's so stupid...