A fic with modified lyrics to the song Toxic by Britney Spears. The title reminded me of 'autopsy' somehow when I first heard of it, and thus came this idea.

Disclaimer: All related characters and elements are (c) Jhonen Vasquez. Modified lyrics (in italics) are . . . mine?

Autopsy

Hello, fans. I'm a perfectly normal human dumb blonde. You have nothing, absolutely nothing to expect from me. Just (don't buy any of my albums and) pay no attention to me and I'll get along just fine.

A bell rings sharply down the corridors. One of the classroom doors flings open, flattening Zootch — who had been standing right before it — onto the wall. Zim stands in the doorway, scrutinizing the class.

"Filthy Earthenoids . . . one day I will rule this planet and make you all my slaves!" he hisses with a hint of disdain.

The door swings back in place, revealing a crushed Zootch. "My organs!" he squeaks painfully. Zim stares for a good while, and starts laughing maniacally.

"Inferior human organs!" he sneers at Zootch, poking at his own body. "Never as good as my squeedly spooch! See?" He proudly pokes himself some more. Zootch doubles over and falls in a dead faint as the other students start filing into the room.

Dib observes the entire commotion from his seat. "Squeedly spooch? What the hell is that?" he asks himself. "What other weird, alien organ things does Zim have? Huh? Huh?" He smacks himself on his unfortunately large head.

". . . and today we begin on a new topic. Open your horribly useless textbooks to page minus-twenty," Ms Bitters directs, scrawling the words "ULTIMATE DOOM" on the board and droning on, ironically aware that nobody's really listening.

Dib idly draws on a piece of paper on his desk. Two eyes, a head, a wig, no nose. "What does Zim really have inside? Organs even more developed than ours? A load of mess and muck — like the lunch on Wednesdays?"

A line down the front of Zim's body.

Dib blinks. Then with a warped smile he continues sketching, pencil scratching against the paper. "And I will reveal to the world what you really are, Zim," he mutters.

People can't you see
I'm drawing
An alien Zim
who's not an earthling
Prepare to scream
I'm starting

In the sketch Zim is screaming blue murder and tied down at the wrists and feet by metal catches. Dib feverishly completes a platform and adds four lines down from its four corners. "Autopsy table . . ." he announces to himself.

There's no escape
You can't hide
I'll slice you up
Someone pass a knife
You're gonna suffer
Enjoy the pain

The pencil lead works its way smoothly, shading the outlined irregular shape bursting out of Zim's body with a glowing grey. Dib pauses and ponders for a moment, very much unaware that he is sticking his pencil way up his nose. (Aki glances over at him with a disgusted look on her face: "Freak.") He shrugs, then randomly adds a few misplaced organs on the floor around the table.

Across the room, Zim is glaring at the other students for no obvious reason, the way he always does. The leaky ceiling above his desk drips water onto his head. Smoke rises. He screams. Another drop hits his hand. Smoke rises again. He screams once more. Yet another drop falls onto the desk. Zim covers his face in horror and ducks under the table, panting.

Organs
Spilling out
Losing your head
Spinning 'round and 'round
Don't you hate me now?

An arrow points to a particularly big pile of alien organ in the sketch, indicating 'squeedly spooch'. Another one is directed to a miniscule dot and beside it in handwriting as small as Dib can manage, is the word 'brain'. A demented grin makes its way up his face as he continues to lose himself in his twisted fantasy.

With you losing your grip
Trapped in the light
Autopsy
Fresh blood forever
With a taste of vengeance and feeble cries
I sure will destroy you
Don't you know that's autopsy?
And I will destroy you
It's what they call autopsy

Dib draws a head with glasses. It was only a good five seconds later before he realised that this head was abnormally large. "I don't believe it! That Zim actually brainwashed me!" he exclaimed. With a scowl of disgust he erased it and redrew a smaller one, with a victorious grin etched on its features. A spindly body in a white lab coat, left hand holding a scalpel, right hand pointing right at Zim spattered in Irken blood and organic juices.

They see you now
Without disguise
And I relate
All your plots and lies
Victory
For the human race

Snickering to himself, Dib adds in the background two nurses who are totally shocked to realise the specimen is inhuman. He chalked out a few more spectators with tiny eyes and circular mouths. Some camera flashes, a couple of journalists here, a signboard flashing 'Dib Rocks!' there.

Exposed
Inside out
You're inhuman
And you're dying now
Don't you hate me now?

The sheet is full of drawings by then. Dib flips it over and is about to put the images of his thoughts down on paper again when Ms Bitters suddenly materialises beside him, eyes narrowed. The whole class is staring. Zim looks rancorously on. "The Dib! You're finished . . ." he snarls threateningly.

Dib's eyes hover between Ms Bitters and the paper. "I'm . . . I'm taking down notes!" he finally says, scribbling the words 'Ultimate doom!' at the top of the clean page. The teacher's eyebrow twitches at the beaming I'm-innocent-really Dib. Then without a word she slides back to her table, and all eyes turn from him.

Except Zim.

With you losing your grip
Trapped in the light
Autopsy
Fresh blood forever
With a taste of vengeance and feeble cries
I sure will destroy you
Don't you know that's autopsy?
And I will destroy you
It's what they call autopsy

The derisorily short Irken shakes his fist and shoots daggers at Dib, making constipated sounds. Zim hops onto his desk and yells, "I know what you've been doing, Dib! You're devising some diabolical plan of yours to stop me from carrying out my own evil plan! And rest assured you will NOT have your way!"

A mechanical claw extends out of Zim's pak and towards Dib, who yelps in surprise. He tries to grab the piece of paper on his desk, but the device is much faster. The claw retracts into the pak and Zim snatches the sheet over, scanning the contents.

His eyes widen.

Don't you just love autopsy?

Dib groans with dread as Zim looks at the drawing in detail. Both of them start hyperventilating.

"What's the matter now, Zim and Dib?" Ms Bitters' voice is undeniably cynical. "What can be worse than the Ultimate Doom other than the cruelty of humanity?" She seizes the sketch in a flash and examines it intently. The class awaits the next movement, stiff and silent. Someone whimpers at the back.

"You poor sick child," she declared. "Your twisted obsessions for the paranormal —" she spits the word — "have turned you into such a mentally disturbed individual. Fancy picturing your classmate Zim being an anatomy test object . . . and you getting famous for it. What horrific joy that goes through your mind."

The whole class gasps. Zita blurts out, "You're weird, Dib!"

"Yeah!" The Letter M agrees. "Weirder and crazier than before! He should be sent to the underground classrooms or something, Ms Bitters!"

"No! He needs a crazy card, Ms Bitters! Give him one!"

The teacher considers for a moment. Then she lifts up a crazy card and sticks it into a slot on the box under a panel on her desk. A crazy collar appears out of it, and Ms Bitters makes Dib wear it around the neck.

Dib starts to splutter in protest. "But . . . but I wasn't . . . I was just doodling some . . . I never intended to harm Zim or anybody else! I —"

"Never?" Zim echoes, impersonating him. "You lie! You lie! You called me names right on the day I came to skool! And yet you say you never wanted to harm me?"

The big-headed boy struggles to remove the now activated crazy collar but to no effect. And finally he snaps.

"All right! All of you may not realise this, but can't you see Zim's an alien? Huh?" Dib points right at Zim. "He's trying to take over our planet! And I'm just trying to save mankind and . . . and all that stuff by trying to stop him! Doesn't anyone believe me? Anyone?"

In his mind the truth dawns on all the humans, and Zim is somehow banished from earth, blasted into space with a cannon - GIR out of disguise and trailing behind with a high pitched "Wheee!" Dib is hoisted up by a huge crowd as they cheer madly.

With you losing your grip
Trapped in the light
Autopsy
Fresh blood forever
With a taste of vengeance and feeble cries
I sure will destroy you
Don't you know that's autopsy?

A cricket sings in the silence.

Zim holds up the drawing, nonchalant. "But you can't deny the fact that you really are more dangerous than I have ever been," he points out.

Veins appear on Ms Bitters' neck. "Send him away," she commands.

Two White Coats burst in through the door and grab Dib by the head. "My! This is one serious case!" one of them exclaims, as if he had witnessed the entire incident in the classroom. "This kid'll need to stay in the crazy house for at least ten years!"

"Plus psychological treatment and counselling every day!" his partner adds brightly.

Don't you believe me now
With Zim backing down
His conquests all unwound
His organs all spilled out?
Be grateful to me now
The earth is still round
And we're all safe and sound . . .

Dib turns to glare at Zim, but the Irken merely shrugs and says, matter-of-factly, "I didn't do anything." In his mind Dib could hear Zim's malicious voice resonating, "This time, I win. Score one for Zim, you stinky monkey head."

And as Dib is being carted away and out of the classroom, the last sight of the classroom's interior is of Zim's eyes narrowed with a triumphant smirk as the doors swing closed.

– – –

Optional continuation:

Dib thrashes about while being dragged down the dark classroom corridors, furious that Zim has won. With a tinge of determination he shouts, "You will never succeed, Zim! One day vengeance will be mine! I'll escape and then I'll destroy you for good!"

From another classroom he passes by yells a voice: "Stop using my lines!"

-fin-