Snitches Get Stitches | ZaDr (Discontinued)

{4}

"I'm telling you, the whole thing was real!" Zim said excitedly. They were currently eating breakfast, and he wanted to share his experience with the others. Unfortunately, they were skeptical.

"I don't know, buttons for eyes?" Dib took a sip from his cup of coffee. "I'm a paranormal expert, and yet I've never heard of anything like that. Are you sure you didn't dream it?"

"Zim is 100 percent sure! If it was a dream, then my burn wouldn't be gone! Isn't that right?" He held up his hand proudly, showcasing his piece of evidence as if it was a court case. " Burns don't just disappear!"

Dib tapped his chin. "I guess you're right, but you are an alien. Your pak probably healed it while you were sleeping." Zim's antennae lowered, causing him to sigh. "...but I can research it if you want. You just have to give me time."

A smile formed on the Irken's face before he gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thanks," he said greatfully.

Dib nodded. "Hey, why don't you get to know the downstairs neighbors?"

"You mean Tak and Tenn? But I thought you said they were dingbats?"

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I would do it to avoid being cooped up in the house all day, since I've got a lot of work to do. Plus, right now I have to drop Gaz off for her job interview."

Zim pouted, but he knew that Dib was right. It wasn't going to kill him to get to know his neighbors, especially since he was going to be stuck with them for who knows how long. The least he could do was try. So, he went to his room and changed his outfit to a more casual look, sporting a jacket similar to his invader tunic, a pair of black leggings, and his disguise.

Then, he left the house, looking at his surroundings.

The sky seemed to be less dreary than the day before, which was a good sign. Maybe something positive would happen for once. At least, he hoped so. Other than that, everything looked exactly how it usually looked...

Boring.

It was the one thing that he hated about the stupid complex. Everything seemed to be drained of color, despite being called the pink palace. It was what the humans called ironic, to say the least.

The gardens were completely bare, having no plants whatsoever. It was just a large space showing off the nasty soil, which was currently muddy thanks to the rain that occurred the other day. And if that wasn't already bad enough, the sky was a lousy grey color, threatening the chance of rain at any given moment.

It wasn't a pink palace, more like a dull dump.

He straightened himself out and looked down at the ground noticing a couple of packages. They weren't very big, just small enough to fit in one of the palms of his hands. It struck him as odd since he didn't recall ordering anything, so he looked at the label, searching for the correct owner.

"Ms. Bitters? Zim's old teacher?" He groaned, placing his hand on his face in a displeased manner. "Of course, just when I've started to think that this couldn't get any worse..."

He turned his attention to a wobbly staircase that lead to another apartment in the complex, currently owned by who he assumed was the owner of the packages. With a sigh, he made his way upstairs to return them to her. It was the least he could do. Plus, he could charge her for his effort to bring them to her doorstep. It was a win-win situation.