YEAH! BRING IT DOWN! (Cue dirty backstreet scene with rappers all dressed in typical rapper gear, some heavy rap beat in the background and Invader Sideos pimped out in pimp gear and blinged up yo.)

Invader Sideos here coming at you from the STREETS fo shizzle. Me and my CREW have been laying down some FAT BEATS and tearing up these tracks yo. (Does some insane break-dancing.)

This was all beta-d and edited by ma no1 homie Sanoon yo, so give it up for the dude.

Anyways, I'm here with a BRAND NEW oneshot to keep you all happy since I aint worked on any Zim stuff in a while. And so, to repay you, I came up with this totally original, ground breaking idea that I personally created yo.

That's right homies, this is a 100 percent Invader Sideos original born right here in the ghetto's of fan fiction. I came up with it after reading another one of those 'Dib is insane and made up Zim and aliens and stuff' fics. I was like "YO! Why is it always ma MAIN MAN Dib who has to be insane? Why can't… ZIM be the one making it all up?" And I realised right there fo shizzle that no one had done that, or if they had, then I aint ever heard (read?) of it.

Anyways, yes this is named after that REM song, Mad World. But only because I saw it on a Gears Of War advert and thought it was UBERLY ironic.

I think this is gonna be short (for me) and I think I might try and write it in a different style, something a little experimental to go with the idea…so yea, a short sharp original, something nice to read while waiting for someone to update something.

So, you guys know the drill. I own sweet bugger all. Yo.

Dib hated this. He hated this place. He hated having to come here every second Saturday of every month to see him.

Yet he did. Every second Saturday, Dib journeyed up to the asylum to see him. Despite the looks, the whispers, the general disapproval, Dib kept to his self-made promise.
He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because of what had happened. Maybe it was because he was his friend. Maybe because, in some way, he blamed himself for what had happened to Zim.

It had been his idea to play the game; it was a simple children's game that they'd played in their childhood. Dib had been the hero, the saviour of earth. Zim had been the bad guy, the alien, the one who was going to blow earth to pieces.

Zim had always had a bit of a mean streak…

Dib shook his head. No. He wouldn't let his mind go onto that. He wouldn't remind himself of the person the papers had invented, the one the news had created.

That Zim didn't exist. Dib knew the real Zim, the one that'd been his friend during childhood…the one that had always remained in that childhood. Although, more and more, he was wondering if that Zim even existed anymore….


The fifteen year old snapped out of his thoughts as the nurse's scratchy voice addressed him.

"You can go and see him now."


The boy made his way through the white halls. His boots tapped, echoing down the halls of the polished floor, and his backpack was being held by one strap against his back. His black trench coat draped across his body and bounced against his legs. He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down, trying not to draw any attention to himself.

This place unnerved him. It was so…silent, yet so loud. No words were spoken, nobody smiled at him, nobody made any sort of expression.

Yet they stared at him with eyes that couldn't see. They spoke to him in a language that only made sense to them. They growled at him, suspicious of his every move.

Their supposed 'carers' were no better. They seemed devoid of any pity, any remorse. They never laughed, apart from at their own patients.

Dib tried to ignore them. They made snide, cruel jokes about the way their residents acted. They weren't trying to cure them; they were just making sure they didn't get out. Jailors with doctor's degrees.

Dib made his way down the familiar hallway, past the familiar corner, past the familiar black woman who was always looking out the familiar window, to the familiar door of room one hundred and one.

The nurse who had been with him opened the door, putting her cigarette in her mouth as she did.

She simply nodded him inside. Dib tried not to look at her; her yellow rotting teeth always made him recoil.

Those old feelings of nervousness, sickness, sorrow, regret, and pity growing within him.

"Hi, Zim."

"Afternoon, human scum."

Zim was sitting on his room floor, a piece of paper out in front of him and some pencils to the side of the paper. His all white clothes hung from his thin frame, his ill looking, yet olive skin, contrasting with the base colour around him. The padded walls were dotted with the odd picture, drawn by Zim himself. Showing alien, slightly insectaria influenced designs. Beings with two antennas coming from their hairless heads, compound eyes, three fingers and green skin.

"Been drawing some more aliens, I see; you're getting better at it."

"They tell me to draw my people; apparently it 'helps'"

His harsh laugher was absorbed into the padded walls, taking away some of its bite.

"Fools! They'll see plenty of us when the Armada gets here."

Dib sighed and sat down on a chair placed next to the door, dropping his backpack next to the chair as easily as he could, the contents of the bag were quite fragile.

"Yea, I'm sure they will."

The horrors of the irken armada, the thing Dib fought tooth and claw against in his childhood. The thing Zim had been utterly and completely dedicated to in his childhood. The thing Zim was still dedicated to in his teens.

"How's things?"

"Okay, they keep forcing me to take these horrible earth medications, though. One day, they'll all pay."

"Like those kids at school."


Dib shivered; the unfeeling, almost gleeful statement sent a chill down the boy's spine. He could still recall the panic, the terror, the screams…his laugher.

"It was a game, Zim, just a game."


The boy was on his feet, his red-brown eyes narrowing at Dib and his odd hair falling over each side of his face. He had modelled it like the beings in his pictures.

Like the being he thought he was.

Dib didn't move. He had done this so many times that he knew how to handle the situation with his eyes closed. Zim wasn't dangerous, he just acted like it.

"Tell me Zim, when did it stop being a game for you?"

"When you got lazy."

The statement hit back, hard. Dib looked away from Zim's piercing glare. Maybe, if he'd kept the game up, Zim might have not done what he did. He might have come out of it his own way. He might have not felt the need to make their game all too real, to take his role as the destroyer of earth too far.

He'd blown up part of their school, believing that Dib would have stopped him. It was the human's job, after all, to stop him. But Dib hadn't stopped him because he'd never believed Zim would go through with it. Dib had stopped playing the game long ago.

Dib had started playing again when he was running around trying to save people from the fire and falling rubble. He'd played the game when he'd fought with Zim and defeated him, knocking him out. He'd played the game when he'd stood on trial and gave evidence against Zim.

Zim had, at first, tried to deny everything, but eventually he'd decided to tell them all the truth about the invasion, the empire, how they would all die in the flames of the orbital sweep.

They'd decided Zim was insane, although Zim had simply laughed at the idea.

But Dib had been given the chance to save earth. He'd trapped the alien, caged him away in a white room, left him at the mercy of human scientists and doctors where they could ask him any questions they want and give him all sorts of pills and injections.

Dib held back his tears; he still remembered the looks people gave him, that they still gave him. He was the friend of the murderer; the insane boy who'd bombed the school. He could still feel the hated stares that the parents of the dead had given him, the whispers that had plagued him for months on end, the way people would not talk with him or look at him, and those that did would only gave him an accusing, angry look, like he had been a part of it all.

"You went too far Zim; it was only meant to be between me and you. It was our fight, not theirs."

"They were just casualties in our war, Dib stink. Our war. You were meant to protect them, remember?"

Dib was on his feet, his face, his eyes, his fists, all portraying his anger, his fury at Zim.

"You bastard. They were innocent people, Zim! It was just a damn game! Why can't you grow up and understand this!"

Zim crossed his arms across his chest and smiled that horrible twisted insane smile; the one he thought made him look scary, like the alien Dib was meant to fight.

It only made him look like the murderer he was.

"To think Dib, the great paranormalist, refuses to acknowledge an alien when he sees one. Foolish little human."

"You're the foolish human, Zim. You are."

Zim growled at Dib's look. That pitiful, angry look that Dib gave him every time he visited him, every time he tried to convince him of that same old lie.

"I am an irken elite invader of the glorious Irken Empire, Dib stink. Why, now that you've finally captured me, refuse to acknowledge it anymore?"

Dib felt like hitting Zim, beating the truth into him, or maybe taking out some of that rage, that pity, that guilt out on him.

Instead, he turned to his backpack, unzipping it and reaching in, drawing out a handheld mirror.

This wasn't the first time he'd tried this, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But he could always try.

He held the mirror up to Zim's face; he only refused to look into it and instead locked his heated stare on Dib.

"Look. Look at yourself Zim. You're not an alien, you're a human."

When Zim didn't move Dib shoved the mirror into his chest, causing Zim to grunt and grab the mirror from Dib.


Zim slowly lifted the mirror up, but didn't look away from Dib. The boys eyes slowly fell towards the mirror, his gaze finally dropping away from the opposite teens angry look.

Zim's eyes locked onto his own. Red compound eyes, grass green skin, two insect-like antennas protruding from his head.

He smiled and looked at his own zipper-like teeth.

"I see nothing but a rather handsome looking irken soldier, if I do say so myself."

"I see a stupid insane murderer who took a child's game too far, if I do say so myself."

Dib snatched the mirror away from Zim's hands.

"When will you grow up, Zim? The game's ended. It ended a long time ago."

"Not for me, Dib stink; never for me."

Dib looked down, shaking his head. He felt like laughing and yet also like screaming. Why wouldn't this insane idiot get this? He had proof pouring out around him; everywhere he looked, he saw the something telling him that he was a human. Yet his mind still refused to accept it. It was locked forever in a game invented by two kids who had founded a friendship over what lay beyond the stars.

One had grown up and beyond playing; the other had remained and played too hard.

"Damn it, Zim…. You're never going to believe me, are you?"

"It's stupid to believe in lies, Dib monkey."

Dib turned away and took the mirror back in one movement. He couldn't bear to look at Zim any longer. It was getting painful to see him do this, to believe so reverently in his delusion. Yet he knew he'd be back next month, to talk with him again. To try and convince him that he was a human teenager, not some irken invader.

Dib put the mirror back in his backpack and lifted it to his shoulder. He then knocked twice on the door, wordlessly telling the nurse outside that he wanted to leave.

The door opened and Zim sat back onto his bed, looking victorious at Dib's pitiful attempt to once again convince him of such an obviously stupid lie.

Dib walked into the doorway, but stopped and turned.

"Zim… I really hope one day you'll realise…"

Dib shook his head; he knew it was hopeless, but he couldn't surrender hope on his friend.


"Bye, human. See you next month"

"Yea, see you next month, Zim."

WOO! Written all in one night, cool eh?

Anyways, I was going for a 'less is more' thing in this. And something with a quicker pace then my usual stuff…

I also left out thoughts because I wanted to try and pull a V for Vendetta and not have any thoughts, just expressions through words. A challenge that I'm unsure I completed…

I couldn't help put in descriptions of Dib and Zim, especially Zim. After all, he's all human and stuff…

Anyways, I think it's kinda hinting throughout that Zim might know that it was all just a game, but then again, he sees himself as an irken. So… yea, kinda mysterious on that...

So, tell ME what you's alls thinks ons this yo.

R&R peeps.