Hey Spacejerk

I Slap Floor

"All I'm saying." The Grinch paused, allowing his hands to drift further apart, as if to emphasize his point. "Is that in all the tales she's dug her snotty little nose into, there is always someone green. Said green person tends to be the main person she targets in her tragic twisted tales. I think that's the connection in all of this mess."

A collective groan went up around the table.

Four figures-two human, one Irken, and one Grinch-sat around a nondescript circular table made of some kind of wood. Their patch of reality hung suspended in an inky void, with only a few steps of floor in any direction. Each place-setting included a small tablet set into the table, a plate piled high with choice food, and a mug.

"I haven't heard such squorsch slobber since we were joined by the one-armed mechanic." Zim cracked his neck and kicked his feet up onto the tabletop, leaning back in his chair. "You're trying to figure a way out of this torment, but you're new so you're grasping at solar flares. If green is the target, why are there whole tales dedicated to the torture of the Dib?"

"You're still in most of those!" protested the Grinch. "And you, what's-your-face?"

A blond man with an orange vest and one mechanical arm sighed. "Arthur."

"Arthur, right. You turn green sometimes, right?"

"When possessed by the cave spirit, I guess. That's pretty shaky grounds to stake your claim on, though. That happens maybe... once or twice during a story. At most."

Dib rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you, before Zim and me there was a mass of talking mice running around playing detective or something."

Zim nodded. "And since then, there's been a whole parade of..." he shuddered in revulsion. "Strange and unnatural creatures through here. Octopus-people. A skeleton with a harvesting tool. A great winged woman with horns on her head."

"Don't forget the elephant, mumbling to itself about a flower it lost." Dib shook his head. "Most don't stay too long, they're just here for oneshots. But even in the long-term there's been nothing consistent enough to support the Green Theory."

Arthur clapped a hand on the Grinch's shoulder. "Don't take it too hard. I was looking for those sort of answers when I first got here, too. Eventually you'll understand there isn't an obvious answer. Usually after you've gone through the wringer a few times."

"A-a-a few times?" The Grinch spluttered.

Dib tilted his head, eyeing the Grinch. "To be honest, I don't expect you'll have to go through more than one story with her. I wouldn't call you 'obsession material'. That's probably for the best, since you'll be out of here sooner. Us?" Dib lifted his shoulders up to his ears and dropped them back down. "We've been stuck here for ages. We'll probably be around a lot longer."

"Lucky me," Arthur shook his head, "Nope, long-term guests seem to be ones with obviously deep-seated psychological flaws that can be mined for stories ad nauseum."

"Oh, well, I don't have any of those," The Grinch brushed off his robe, barely missing the knowing look that Dib and Zim traded, "So it would seem I'll be out of your hair soon enough. Say, though, who's had it the worst around here? I should know what I have to look... forward... to..." by the time he looked back up, all eyes were on him, glaring. He raised an eyebrow, "Was it something I said?"

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, "You had to bring it up, didn't you? I know when to shut up, but these two-"

"I was vivisected from day one!" Dib thrust an accusatory finger at Zim, "And then your PAK took me over and tricked me into murdering my whole family shortly after!"