Summary:Dib's week is turned upside down when ZIM gets mixed up in Membrane political affairs! Now only three things are certain: there's a giant Cthulu-Moth-Monster roaming the streets, the whole world thinks ZIM is his boyfriend and everything has turned into a terrible mess!

Comedy and ho yay situations full of hatred Mild Zadr

~oOo~
Chapter 1: The Mushening

"Old Timey Love Mush."
Dib rolled his eyes at the title, pencil scratching words across paper with a precision only a young hero of earth/paranormal investigator could manage.
Right now, he was focused, determined, and if anything, a little bit exasperated.
Zim was out there making trouble! He didn't have time for any of this. And this book report was terrible!
"It's the same cliché love story! Boy meets girl and they fall in love! There isn't even any substance! It's just… bad!" he informed his bedroom. "I wonder if Zim did his homework. Trick question! I know he didn't! He just has his computer do everything for him. He's too busy being a horrible alien menace!"
He continued his scribbling.
And then something distracted him. His eyes flitted to a picture frame across his desk.
"Terrible… cliché love stories…. that's how it's supposed to be, right?"
He shook the thought off, flipping the frame and he snapped the book shut.
"Doesn't matter! It's not like I've ever been interested in that sort of thing anyway! A paranormal investigator doesn't have time for… those… kind of distractions! Especially when his mind is preoccupied with something else!"
Dib leapt from up his seat, backpack slung over his shoulder and he left the room, leaving only his computer light bathing over old posters of Mysterious Mysteries…
And a single wall dedicated to pictures of Zim.

~oOo~

"I AM BREAKFAST-TRON: MIND READING BREAKFAST ROBOT OF THE FUTURE! PREPARE YOUR LIVER FOR IMMINENT BACON!"
Gaz folded her arms, waiting as the tall, eerie robot rumbled and wheezed out a disturbingly greasy pile of bacon on the counter that more-or-less resembled a pile of entrails.
Dib cringed at the sight and walked around the floating TV to locate a less-horrifying cereal, but the abrupt volume on the TV soon grabbed both of their attentions.
~"And now: Useless Top 10 list of celebrity children you don't care about!" the anchor brayed. "On this segment of rich and single—"~
A foreboding horror plummeted to Dib's guts. "Please don't," he begged.
~"All eyes are on Dib: son of the famous and beloved Professor Membrane, and heir to the vast Membrane Empire. Word has it: big business moves are on the horizon for the corporation and he's been put up to the plate!"~
Dib groaned.
"Shh," Gaz hissed.
~"The small, off-putting youth, now on the cusp of adulthood, is being sent overseas to 'smooth over relations' with their competitors."~
The TV announcer wagged his eyebrows suggestively and Dib grimaced.
"Why are they even broadcasting this?! They couldn't find any other story to cover the borax thing?"
"Shh!"
~"Well, I personally wouldn't touch him with a twelve foot pole. That kid is CUH-RAZY."~
~"He does have crazy eyes, Tom," the co-anchor agreed. "In other news, there is absolutely no borax in the water supply and you should all just DRINK IT!"~
Dib turned off the TV.
"This is ridiculous! I don't have time for this! Zim's up to something and it's up to me to stop it! He's created some kind of… fusion thingy. He's been fusing random… things… together! I've got to go."
He turned around to leave and nearly ran into his father: the towering Dr. Membrane himself.
"Dad! Can't Gaz inherit your corporation? She's smart and… hates science less…"
Gaz shrugged indifferently, cheeks full of bacon.
"Son, you remember the deal that we made-"
"You mean the deal you made."
"Son—"
Dib ignored him and walked past, shoulder checking him at the knees on his way out.
"PREPARE YOUR LIVER FOR SPURNED FREEDOM… SLASH… PANCAKES! HRRRGH!" Breakfast-Tron attempted to deliver but the order was too much. It burst into flames and exploded in a pile of wilted pancakes.

~oOo~

Zim's eyes narrowed and he cranked the dial back on his helmet, hunching over the strange water squirting machine the skool kept in its disgusting hallway.
For whatever the reason, the dirt children seemed inclined to stick their faces in it and make icky slurping noises before going on with their day.
Whatever it was, its foundation was suspicious and not to be trusted.
Zim pushed the little faucet button, and when a stream of water shot back, he shrieked at the horror of it.
Which was where Dib found him this particular Monday morning:
In the hallway. Hunched over the drinking fountain.
Shrieking.
-Like an alien.
He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"HA! Like you could possibly imagine my ingenious—!" Zim froze at the voice and spun on his heel, folding his helmet into his PAK. "DIB! I see you've returned. What took you?"
Dib opened his mouth.
"Never mind, I don't care," he canned. "Just so you know, Pig, my amaazing plan goes off tonight and you will be helpless to stop it! I've covered all the bases, left no angle unturned. You've gone soft, Dib! Soft like smushed, sick baby eggplants! And now will RUE the day you…! Eh, actually, you'll… rue everything."
There was a beat of silence before Zim erupted into maniacal laughter. "HAAAA HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW!"
Dib deadpanned. He'd like to think he was desensitized to Zim being this loud and obnoxious in the morning, but as usual, Zim outdid himself.
"So where were you anyway?" Zim asked, now genuinely curious.
"…I told you my dad was sending me to a boarding school for a few weeks."
Zim quirked an eye in confusion, imagining the fool-boy going to some primitive facility that showed him what wooden boards are.
"That's completely stoo-pid!" he snapped. "And not a sufficient excuse as to why you were gone so long!"
"Boarding schools are schools you live at, Zim." Dib shuffled through his locker in frustration. "My dad sent me to the Institute of Real Science overseas. It's a prestigious, all-boy's school for snobby rich kids. He's been trying to get me to go there for years. He thought it would be a good idea if I tried it for a few weeks before I 'decided to live there permanently.'"
If there was any more sarcasm in his voice, he probably would have choked on it.
Though, it was a bit of a foreign language to the little green menace in question.
"A real science-y school? All… boys?" he wondered. "And you live there? Instead of your house? You cannot leave?"
"That's what I said."
Zim thought it over and barked another cruel fit of laughter. "Well, good luck, Dib. Enjoy your sad little boy prison while I DESTROY MANKIND AND SQUISH YOUR DREAMS."
"You already squish my dreams," Dib pointed out.
"Then I will squish them… SOME MORE!"
"You won't be able to for long, Zim! Not while I'm there!"
They had been at this for years, but in the high of ambition and rivalry neither of them noticed, nor did it stop these battles that teetered on the edge between epic and juvenile.
Dib lifted his chin in a haughty sneer, as though to make himself feel taller.
Not that he was, Zim had sabotaged his height years ago, rendering them both perpetually the shortest kids in Hi skool.
But still, that look of victory was enough to incense him. "Zim will so!" he snapped.
"Will not!"
"Will so!"
"Will not!"
"Will NOT!"
"…What?" Dib's face scrunched.
"LIAR!" Zim leaped onto him, bowling Dib to the ground, erratic fists and hands flailing and slapping, struggling against the other's strength.
Students traveled through the halls, simply stepping over their fight as they passed.
Dib kicked him off and gathered himself from the floor along with his school supplies. This seriously needed to end soon. The bell was going to ring any minute.
"Zim shall soil your dreams, worm! Mark my words! The soiling I will do shall be—"
"Can we wrap this up?" Dib interrupted. "We really need to get to class."
"Eh? Oh, yeah. Right."
Dib stood up awkwardly. "You want to walk with me, or…?"
"Nah, I'll catch up in a minute." Zim waved off.
Dib shrugged and went on to class, leaving Zim to stew in his tirade.
And, oh, did he stew.
"Foolish dirt beast thinks he can tell ME where to go?! Clearly, he underestimates my skills of detection and dream soiling. ZIM IS A MIGHTY SOILER! He thinks they are now, but I say they are not soiled enough! ZIM IS SUPREEEME. The Ultra Lord Soiler of all Squishening! Especially when it concerns dreams of the Dib!"
"GET TO CLASS!" Someone yelled.
Zim glowered at the interruption.
Oh, they would pay. They would all pay.