Dib wakes up in a bed that isn't his bed. He knows this isn't his room. His room is covered in cryptid posters and UFO nonsense and also it smells much worse. He sits up in bed, in pajamas that definitely aren't his, and peers out the window.
Wow, the sky is really blue.
Anyway, members of his family will find him poking around the house, looking at the sepia photos, muttering to himself.
"This is impossible. I don't remember taking this!"
Neighbors, B: Parties
Dib winces as a party hat is shoved onto his head, and makes a face at the gelatin mold that's now in his hands. He's seen some horrifying food in his time -- he buys his lunch at the Skool cafeteria -- but these? These flavors were never meant to go together. It's wrong. It is deeply and fundamentally wrong.
"No, that's okay," he says, looking around desperately for a way to surreptitiously get rid of the wiggly monstrosity he's now responsible for. "Really. I'll just get some punch, and, uh, hang out over there. By the trash can! Ha ha ha ha....ha." He trails off awkwardly, understanding too late how uncool he sounded.
A: Always check your candy
Dib, dressed in all black clothes, red reflective glasses, feathery wings, and antennae on a headband, is sitting on the front porch of "his" house. He is carefully sorting the Halloween candy into two piles. One side is full of opened candy bars and cut-up apples, metal glinting from inside them. The other, much smaller pile appears to be normal. Dib takes another chocolate bar out of his trick-or-treating bag and breaks it open, checking for anything inside. He sniffs it, carefully. "Hm," he says to himself. "Smells okay." Carefully, he sticks out his tongue and licks the outside.
"Aaagh! Gross!" he cries in despair. "What is that? Ugh!"
B: Always Respect the Dead
You hear his screaming before you see him.
"I knew it!" Dib shrieks. "It's the lights! It's the liiiiiights!"
He runs back and forth between the houses.
"Everyone! Please! Listen to me! Whatever you do, don't let your jack-o-lantern go out! It's the only thing that'll keep you safe! Aaah!"
A trick-or-treater has grabbed the wing of the very cool (and definitely not a butterfly) Mothman costume Dib is wearing and has yanked Dib off-balance. Quickly, Dib makes the call to abandon the wings, and he takes off running as fast as his legs can carry him.
Dib Membrane | Invader Zim | OTA
Dib wakes up in a bed that isn't his bed. He knows this isn't his room. His room is covered in cryptid posters and UFO nonsense and also it smells much worse. He sits up in bed, in pajamas that definitely aren't his, and peers out the window.
Wow, the sky is really blue.
Anyway, members of his family will find him poking around the house, looking at the sepia photos, muttering to himself.
"This is impossible. I don't remember taking this!"
Neighbors, B: Parties
Dib winces as a party hat is shoved onto his head, and makes a face at the gelatin mold that's now in his hands. He's seen some horrifying food in his time -- he buys his lunch at the Skool cafeteria -- but these? These flavors were never meant to go together. It's wrong. It is deeply and fundamentally wrong.
"No, that's okay," he says, looking around desperately for a way to surreptitiously get rid of the wiggly monstrosity he's now responsible for. "Really. I'll just get some punch, and, uh, hang out over there. By the trash can! Ha ha ha ha....ha." He trails off awkwardly, understanding too late how uncool he sounded.
A: Always check your candy
Dib, dressed in all black clothes, red reflective glasses, feathery wings, and antennae on a headband, is sitting on the front porch of "his" house. He is carefully sorting the Halloween candy into two piles. One side is full of opened candy bars and cut-up apples, metal glinting from inside them. The other, much smaller pile appears to be normal. Dib takes another chocolate bar out of his trick-or-treating bag and breaks it open, checking for anything inside. He sniffs it, carefully. "Hm," he says to himself. "Smells okay." Carefully, he sticks out his tongue and licks the outside.
"Aaagh! Gross!" he cries in despair. "What is that? Ugh!"
B: Always Respect the Dead
You hear his screaming before you see him.
"I knew it!" Dib shrieks. "It's the lights! It's the liiiiiights!"
He runs back and forth between the houses.
"Everyone! Please! Listen to me! Whatever you do, don't let your jack-o-lantern go out! It's the only thing that'll keep you safe! Aaah!"
A trick-or-treater has grabbed the wing of the very cool (and definitely not a butterfly) Mothman costume Dib is wearing and has yanked Dib off-balance. Quickly, Dib makes the call to abandon the wings, and he takes off running as fast as his legs can carry him.