(Montage teaser sequence. Music: Splendora --
"You're Standing On My Neck".
Jane surrounded by a
mid-sized group of children aged six through twelve, standing in front of the
Daria, Jane and Lynn walking
down a
Jake on a used car lot,
talking to a dealer. He pats a black 1982 two-door Toyota Tercel that looks
like a good kick might reduce it to its component parts. Jake turns, grinning,
to Daria, who is standing at a slight distance from the car, arms folded. She
just shakes her head in something that's on the emotional scale between despair
and disgust.
Daria and Jodie in a
makeshift broadcast studio, talking into a mike. Visible through the soundproof
glass behind them is
A deserted factory. Tiffany,
dressed in white, peering blankly into a birdcage. Lying at the bottom is a
dead bird. Upchuck approaches from behind her, his hair slicked back, dressed
in black in best post-makeover tradition. He turns her around and they kiss
deeply.
A men's room. O'Neill huddled
into a ball on the floor, sobbing his pathetic little heart out. Four familiar
pairs of boots walk into shot and stop in front of him. Pan up to the
confused-looking Daria, Jane, Lynn and AP.
Daria and Lynn, side-by-side,
looking at each other and giving the traditional Mona Lisa smile. Pan in and
out to change to the TLAS logo. Writing in Daria font underneath reads...)
WHEELS OF FORTUNE -- TLAS
5:12
(Scene: Lane house, ext.
Music: Moby -- "In This World". The Plymouth and the A-Tank are
parked in the driveway. The B.A.N.D.wagon is parked on the front lawn. The Merc
is parked at the kerb, with a ugly, battered off-yellow VW Beetle parked behind
it. Lynn's digging around in the back [where, if I recall, engines are in
Beetles], with Joe McKeon watching her nervously -- it's obviously his car.
Nick is hauling pieces of drum kit into the A-Tank. Trent's stuffing a couple
of duffel bags into the back of the Plymouth. AP and Mara are standing around
the Merc, nosing through Lynn's big rucksack. Guy and Casey are leaning against
the B.A.N.D.wagon, watching the scene. Jane's snapping pictures a mile a
minute. Daria, who has been standing at the edge of all this, approaches Jane.)
DARIA: It's like Barnum and
Bailey out here.
JANE: And I've got it all on
film. (beat) So what are you doing here?
DARIA: Basking in the energy
field of people who have lives.
JANE: Hey, -*you*- were the
one who refused to come along on this weekend road trip.
DARIA: Well, because I'm
leaving for another continent in a few months, my family would prefer it if I
was on call. Unlike your family, mine doesn't consider postcards an adequate
form of communication.
JANE: No; they prefer fridge
notes.
TRENT: (approaching) Hey, we
ready?
LYNN: (shutting the Beetle)
It's as roadworthy as it'll ever be. But you're going to want to replace that
fan belt because I don't think Mara's tights are going to hold for very long no
matter what _GTA or Getaway_ has to say on the matter.
CASEY: 'Kay. C'mon. Lessgo.
TRENT: (turning to Daria)
Sure you can't come along?
DARIA: (wavering -- but only
a little) I'm sure. As interesting as the trip would be, I have family
obligations. The question is still what I'm going to do with myself this
weekend.
JANE: Why not blow some of
your cash? Be frivolous for a change, Daria.
LYNN: Yeah; -*we're*- going
nuts; why shouldn't you?
GUY: C'mon, people! I wanna
be on the road before dark!
(Trent hugs and kisses Daria;
she blushes but returns it.)
JANE: Remember,
Morgendorffer; -*frivolity*-!
(AP and Lynn get into the
Merc; Jane joins Guy in the B.A.N.D.wagon; Casey and Joe get into the Beetle;
Nick gets into the A-Tank. Mara looks set to join Trent in the Plymouth but is
stopped by Daria's glare. She wanders over to the Beetle and yanks Casey out of
the passenger seat, joining Joe. Casey shrugs and gets into the Plymouth. Daria
watches them drive away, looking a little sad.)
(Scene: Morgendorffer
kitchen. Music plays on. It's empty ... at least until Daria walks in. She
moves to the fridge and, sure enough, fridge notes.)
DARIA: (picks up one, reads
aloud) Daria, Quinn, Jake -- all-day debriefing. Fend for yourselves. I'll try
to be home by nightfall. Mom. (picks up another note) Helen, Quinn, Daria --
client meeting; gah-damnit. Keep dinner warm for me. Dad. (picks up yet another
note) Mom, Dad, Daria -- cheerleader practice and then Sandi wants me to come
over as a guest speaker for the new Fashion Club on how to keep stylish even
when you're maybe about to sweat. Then date with Ted so won't be home for
dinner -- oh, and I borrowed the car. Quinn.
(Daria opens the fridge. She
peers in and finds nothing of interest. Then she shuts the door and stares
blankly at [or maybe through] the door.)
DARIA: Frivolity. Hmm.
(Montage sequence. Music: The
Smiths -- "Ask"
Main Street. Daria is sitting
outside a Seattle Coffee, a notepad and a mug of coffee in front of her, a pen
in her hand. However, she's not writing. In fact, she looks too bored to be
capable of putting pen to paper.
Pizza King. Daria's poking at
a slice. She looks up and around at the other people in the room -- Joey, Jeffy
and Jamie are sharing a pie and laughing about something; Kevin, Brittany, Mack
and Jodie are obviously double-dating and Mack and Jodie look like they've just
disengaged their brains enough to have some fun; Andrea's at a corner booth
with a couple of her Goth friends. Daria looks very lonely as she abandons her
slice and leaves.
Arcade. Daria wanders
through. Passes a bank of beat-em-ups. Passes a bank of shooters and nearly
winces. Comes to the back of the room and finds Dance Dance Revolution. The
baggy-trousered bishounen on the game finishes a particularly complicated dance
move -- and his round -- before looking at her. He gestures to the front of the
game, where a few tokens mark how many games he has before she can have a turn.
She just backs away slowly.
Playhouse 90. Daria as in the
original opening montage. From the screen, there are gunshots and screams
heard; the rest of the audience winces, cowers or otherwise shows fear
reaction. Daria, on the other hand, does not look particularly thrilled -- her
expression asks "is that the best you can do?"
Second-hand CD shop, Degas
Street. Daria browsing through a small shelf crammed to bursting with CDs.
However, most of them are NKOTB, Kylie Minogue, Jimmy Nail, Matchbox 20 and
Bananarama's Greatest Hits. Daria looks at the guy behind the counter -- he
looks pretty well ashamed of himself but points to a sign. It reads
"Management Cannot Be Held Responsible For Other People's Lack of Taste".
Axl's, Degas Street. Daria
wanders past, stops in front of the place and actually seems to consider it
before turning away with a look that suggests she doesn't believe she gave that
consideration.
Daria's room. Daria at her
computer. Intermittent mouse clicking and intense facial expression indicates
she's doing some serious searching. Finally, she types up subversion_is_we;
clicks on "News". Finds one item reading "Subversive Items
Exhibit -- Oakwood Exhibition Hall". With an interested look, she clicks
on it.)
(Scene: Morgendorffer living
room. Music plays on. Jake reading. Daria comes in.)
DARIA: Dad, could I borrow
the Lexus?
JAKE: Gee, I'd love to help
you out there, Kiddo, but Quinn already took it. Something about cheerleader
practice.
(Daria's eyes narrow a bit.
Then she heads for the phone. She goes briefly through the phone book next to
it, finds a number and dials.)
DARIA: Yes, hello, I'd like a
taxi, please. (beat) 1111 Glen Oaks Lane. (beat) Oakwood Exhibition Centre.
(beat) Yes, that's fine. Thank you.
(She hangs up. Jake is
looking at her oddly.)
JAKE: That's an awful long
way, isn't it?
DARIA: That's right.
JAKE: Kiddo ... you need
money or something for that? I mean, a taxi ride that far's going to be kinda
pricey, isn't it?
DARIA: (absently) Don't
worry, Dad. I can afford it.
JAKE: But I thought your
mother was socking away all that money for your college fund.
DARIA: She did. I ... came
into some money from another source.
JAKE: You didn't win the
lottery or anything ... did you?
DARIA: No. (sigh; she's not
getting out of this) Jerome Smythe...
JAKE: (stone-faced; digging
for his wallet) Then -*I'm*- paying for the damn taxi ride. Should've got you a
car or something when you got your licence anyway.
DARIA: ("Excuse me?"
look) Dad?
JAKE: I'm not having that ...
that -*man*- buying my daughter's affections! I...
DARIA: Dad, it wasn't a
buy-off.
JAKE: Well, what do -*you*-
call it when a man who just -*happens*- to be your ... your biological father
gives you enough money to afford long taxi rides and God knows what else?
DARIA: In this case, I call
it inheritance.
(The tone in which she said
that stops him cold as the meaning sinks in.)
JAKE: (face is dead white)
Oh... Uh... Kiddo?
(The sound of a motor is
heard outside, and then a car horn -- the taxi has arrived. Daria heads for the
door ... then her conscience gets the better of her and she stops.)
DARIA: (sigh) Come on; I'll
buy you lunch or something on the way.
(She turns around and exits
the house. Jake stays frozen a second before realising that an invitation has
been made and scrambles to his feet, charging for the door.)
(Scene: so-called
"family" restaurant [probably Denny's]. Music: Toad the Wet Sprocket
-- "Before You Were Born" [especially for you, Jillcat]. Jake and
Daria are sitting across from each other, both poking at their food. Jake looks
very preoccupied.)
DARIA: You know, it's hard to
continue this conversation if you're going to continue to hog the ball.
JAKE: Damnit, how the hell am
I supposed to compete with a dead man?!? Oh, sure; eighteen years and he's
-*nowhere*- to be found! But now that he's -*dead*-...
DARIA: Now that he's dead,
he's haunting me from beyond, and probably will do for the rest of my natural
life. Which, if you think about it, gives us one more thing in common.
JAKE: Oh. (beat) Oh, yeah.
DARIA: Look, he felt somewhat
responsible for the upheaval his arrival caused in my life. So rather than
force his way further into it, he left half of his business assets to me,
probably as some misplaced gesture to prove that he sees me as a member of his
family. The rest of his family knew that I didn't want to pick up his life
where he left off, they bought me out. Competition had nothing to do with it --
from what little I can tell, he was actively avoiding competition with you. Not
for your sake, but for mine.
JAKE: Yeah, and I guess your
little friend wouldn't have been happy about it either.
DARIA: Excuse me?
JAKE: Well, it's easy to pay
more attention to the new kiddo, y'know. You feel like, because the older one
came along first, the younger one's going to resent the time they already had
with their parents. So you try to make up for it, and you go too far the other
way.
DARIA: (raised eyebrow) I
think I've seen it happen a time or two.
JAKE: (blushing) So anyway,
there's the older kid. And unless they make trouble, they maybe don't get the
attention they deserve. Your little friend's like you; doesn't make waves. So
if, when her ... your ... dad came here, he tried hard to make you his real
daughter, she wouldn't -*say*- anything, but...
DARIA: ("Oh my God, my
dad has insight.") Yeah. I see what you mean. (beat) But you see why he
felt he had to do -*something*-?
JAKE: Oh, sure! I ... guess.
I mean, who -*wouldn't*- want you as their kiddo?
(Daria blushes and turns to
her food. There's silence as the two of them toy with their food some more. And
then an idea hits Jake.)
JAKE: Hey, Kiddo ... I was
thinking ... why -*don't*- you get yourself a car?
DARIA: Because I had a hard
enough time getting my driver's license without the learning curve of driving on
the wrong side of the road, especially with the steering wheel on the wrong
side of the car. Not to mention not being willing to expend the effort involved
in attaching pontoons to the thing and driving it to Oxford.
JAKE: Oh, come on, Kiddo,
you'd be doing us a favour! Look, when you come to visit us, you'll have your
own car to use, and you can get it back from Quinn when you move back! And when
you're not here ... well, I miss the Lexus. Quinn's got it so much that all I
see of it anymore is the tail lights!
DARIA: I don't know anything
about cars. And I'd be using it so little...
JAKE: Oh, don't worry about
that! I can help you pick something good!
DARIA: (panic) Uh ... I'd be
prying you away from your free weekend. Besides, I wouldn't want to tack your
extortionate consultancy fees onto the price I'll already be paying for the
car, the insurance ... the little fuzzy dice...
JAKE: Hey, no book is more
important than my Kiddo! And no charge for this one; it'll be -*great*- to shop
for a car again!
(Daria gets an
"eep" look.)
DARIA: How about I sleep on
it and get back to you?
(Jake looks a little
disappointed, but nods. Daria guiltily goes back to her food.)
END ACT 1 -- ADVERTS
-*Argos*- -- There's this
God-awful series of adverts with this self-absorbed, untalented rock star and
his ... girlfriend? Personal assistant? The way he treats her doesn't make it
very clear.
-*Great Britons*- -- Let's
face it -- there are -*lots*- of them. And out of Darwin, Shakespeare, Nelson,
Lennon, and believe it or not, Rowling, they're going to pick -*one*-? Bloody
self-absorbed muttonheads.
ACT 2
(Scene: Daria's room. Music:
Ash -- "World Domination". Daria is seated at her computer. Phone
rings. After three, Daria picks up.)
DARIA: Hello?
JANE: (OS) Greetings from
Rock-Bitch Central.
DARIA: Hey. How's the
Landfill Inn?
(Split-screen. Jane's sitting
on the trunk of the Merc. Her red shirt is torn, there are dubious splotches on
her clothes and her hair is mussed beyond recognition.)
JANE: Well, Guy and the rest
of the Name-Droppers were trying -*real*- hard to outdo the Reformed but
-*our*- guys started the whole place pounding to a selection from Trent's Fetal
Metal CDs. You know with a decent set of vocals and guys who know more than
three chords, that stuff's actually -*good*-?
DARIA: I'll call Ripley's as
soon as I'm off the phone with you.
JANE: So ... amiga ... you
walked on the wild side yet?
DARIA: Not exactly. I'm
considering buying something but the fact is that I... (*ping*) Hey, put Lynn
on for a second, would you?
JANE: (frowning) Oh. Sure.
(over her shoulder) Yo, COURTNEY! Lady Frivolity wants to talk to you!
(Lynn approaches, still in
her Reformed costume. Her stern, displeased expression suggests the imminent
unsheathing of a sword of fire in Jane's general direction. Jane smirks as she
hands the phone over.)
DARIA: And now I'm trying to
imagine AP singing "Smells Like Teen Spirit".
LYNN: Please, Daria. It took
me five years to forget. (beat) I take it since Quinn's out having a social
life, you're spoiling for the sweet caress of a sisterly voice?
DARIA: Actually, I'm looking
for the sage advice of a seasoned con artist.
LYNN: Oh, great. One measly
tie to a Mafia family and you get a reputation. Okay, what do you need?
DARIA: This more involves
your dealings with Chemically Cheerful Charlie.
LYNN: Daria. Sister dear. The
Batmobile got bought by some dotcom millionaire-goof.
DARIA: Have you got your copy
of "GTA or Getaway" handy?
LYNN: I'm riding with the
Plymouth, the A-Tank and Joe's Ding Beetle. With that convoy, I never let that
book out of my sight.
DARIA: Good. Tell me
everything I need to know about car engines and how to tell if they're ...
below reproach.
(Lynn raises an eyebrow
dubiously, but shoves Jane off the trunk of the Merc so she can get into it.
There is a *splort* sound as Jane lands.)
JANE: (OS from ground level)
Hey! This outfit was... (beat as she realises) ...absolutely filthy anyway, who
the hell cares.
(Scene: Happy Herb's Used
Cars. Music: Garbage -- "Girl Don't Come". Daria and Jake step
towards the admin building and Happy Herb himself steps out, grinning and
approaching them. Every word he says is addressed to Jake.)
HERB: Hi there! What can I do
for you?
JAKE: We're looking for a
good reliable used car for my daughter...
HERB: You did the right
thing, coming to me! What sort of thing were you looking for?
JAKE: Well, it's really Daria
here who wants the car. Daria?
DARIA: Well, I was
thinking...
HERB: (still to Jake) Now,
you seem the kind of guy who'd go for more of a foreign car. Now, buying
American is all very well, but let's face it; the girlie won't know the
difference, and cheap and cheerful is the way to go when you've got someone who
won't have fun with it...
DARIA: Excuse me...
(Herb leads the way down a
line of cars. He stops and pats a black 1982 two-door Toyota Tercel that looks
like a good kick might reduce it to its component parts. Jake stands next to
him, looking at the car. Daria stands a little behind them, arms folded.)
HERB: Now, this thing's had
maybe three owners since it was made. The gas mileage isn't bad, and it's not
so flashy that it's gonna get your daughter car-jacked.
JAKE: (turning to Daria with
a grin) Whaddya think, kiddo? Nice and understated!
(She just shakes her head in
something that's on the emotional scale between despair and disgust.)
DARIA: It might decrease my
chances of being car-jacked, but it brings the likelihood of my becoming an
urban legend to something approaching Vegas odds.
JAKE: I don't think Daria
likes it...
HERB: Oh, come on; girls
don't know -*what*- they like! (finally addresses this to Daria) Now, look,
sweetheart. I think the best thing here is for you to head down to Cranberry
Commons and let men talk. So whaddya say?
DARIA: (raised eyebrow) I say
... (turning to Jake) I'm not buying a car from this misogynistic jerk.
(With that, she walks away.
Jake shrugs at Herb and follows after her. Herb looks really unimpressed with
himself.)
(Scene: a dank, dark basement
room somewhere. Music: Gorillaz -- "Clint Eastwood". There are six
sleeping bags, all occupied, scattered on the floor. Blue hair sticking out of
one identifies its occupant as Guy; red hair sticking out of another right the
way across the room indicates the presence of the techno-weasel. When the sound
of three sets of booted feet tromping down the stairs is heard, it's Joe who
stirs first, groping for his glasses. Nick groans and sits up as Lynn appears,
with Jane and Mara close behind.)
NICK: It's too damn early...
JANE: Nick, it's -*noon*-.
NICK: Yeah; like I said, it's
too damn early.
(Lynn rolls her eyes.)
MARA: Lemme wake 'em up?
Please?
JOE: Oh, God, no, don't let
her, -*please*-. You don't want to see how she does it...
JANE: Let Lynn handle this.
She's -*good*-.
NICK: Aw, Christ, don't let
-*her*-! She's -*evil*-!
AP: (from the depths of the
sleeping bag) Mmmmmmmmmwrrrdnwnschtd.
LYNN: Then you're in luck;
it's Sunday.
NICK: Guys, -*up*-. Or she's
gonna do the thing with the divebomb!
JOE: Guys, up or she's gonna
do the thing with the -*thing*-!
(Guy and Casey shoot bolt
upright. Trent and AP don't move a whole lot.)
JANE: The divebomb scares
them -*witless*-! (to Mara; awestruck) What do you -*do*-?
(Mara leans over and whispers
into Jane's ear for a couple of seconds. Jane's eyes go really big.)
LYNN: I'd say I don't want to
know, but that goes -*without*- saying.
MARA: (smirk) Whatever works,
hon. Now you go pack the car, I'll get them up. (the smirk widens) One way or
another...
JANE: You mess with my
brother and ... and ... and...
LYNN: -*We*- will punish you.
That's best friend and sister territory you're about to mess with.
MARA: Hey, don't -*worry*-...
(She walks up to Trent's
side, crouches and whispers. After a moment, Trent bolts upright.)
TRENT: No, Officer, you don't
understand; she's of age and we've got pro... (He finally wakes up all the way;
a moment's silence.) Oh. Uh. (beat) Isn't it too early...?
(Fade out on the looks that
everyone's giving him.)
(Scene: another car lot.
Music: Pitchshifter -- "Second Hand". Jake and another car salesman
are watching with astonishment as Daria digs around in the engine of a 1992
Ford. A stack of paper rests on the bumper to her right. Every so often, she
looks up at the notes for reference.)
SALESMAN: (nervous) Guess
your girl's serious about her cars, huh?
JAKE: My Daria's serious
about -*everything*-.
(Daria emerges from under the
hood and shuts it, then turns to the salesman.)
DARIA: You have a rodent
problem. Something's been chewing at the fan belt. Anything else?
SALESMAN: Okay, then take a
look at -*this*- little beauty.
(He leads them over to a
mint-green Volvo. It's not a bad looking car, but when Daria heads closer to examine
it, he steps over a little to block her.)
DARIA: Excuse me...
SALESMAN: Now, I can see
you're thorough. I like that. I appreciate that. But the thing with this one is
that about five minutes before you got in here, I got a call from a customer
who's got his heart -*set*- on this little beauty. Now, he's going to be here
in... (checks his watch) ten minutes, and if it's not bought and off this lot
by then, this guy's gonna beat you to the punch. So if you like it, you might
want to take it now.
DARIA: You mean without even
taking a look at the engine?
SALESMAN: Hey, no need; this
beauty's in tip-top shape!
DARIA: The only life lesson
I've managed to take away from my parents is to never trust the word of a
used-car salesman.
JAKE: (leaning to the
salesman) Hey, look, Daria doesn't really like the pre...
SALESMAN: Come on, sugar,
don't overthink this! It's a great car and a great deal! Just do it!
DARIA: Have you ever
considered a career in Nike ads?
SALESMAN: No...
DARIA: Then there won't be
any irony in me -*walking*- away, rather than running.
(She walks off. The salesman
looks after her oddly, and then at Jake, who grins at him.)
JAKE: (proud and nearly smug)
I -*tried*- to tell you. No one pulls a fast one on my kiddo.
(And he follows her away. The
salesman watches them go, his face a picture of frustration. Then he snatches
the hat off his head and tosses it on the ground in total disgust.)
(Scene: the Merc. Music:
Levellers -- "The Road". Jane's driving. AP's in the backseat. Lynn,
from the passenger seat, takes her phone away from her ear with a sigh.)
JANE: Answering machine?
LYNN: Quinn.
JANE: You hung -*up*- on her?
LYNN: Well, given that the
first words out of her mouth were, (frighteningly accurate Quinn impression)
"Look, unless it's, like, -*really*- important or something, can you call
back later and not leave a message cos I have to be out of here in, like,
-*five*- minutes or Stacy'll get -*really*- nasty -- God, I don't -*believe*-
she got a -*backbone*-; what did that Lynn girl -*do*- to her anyway..."
JANE: Do you have any idea
how much you're scaring me?
LYNN: And relishing every
minute of it.
AP: Think Erudite Emerald
found something fruh ... friv ... fun to do?
JANE: I hope so. I mean, I
feel kinda guilty about leaving her all on her own. Y'know, she's going away
soon, and we're not going to get to see her...
AP: And without us there as
buffer solution, she might end up bonding with Flakey Jakey.
(Jane and Lynn share a
slightly alarmed look.)
LYNN: I knew I should have
got her a cellphone for her birthday in case of stuff like this...
(Scene: another so-called
family restaurant. Music: Cake -- "Long Line of Cars". Daria looks
fed up. Jake looks sympathetic.)
JAKE: Well, Daria, we see a
lot of this in consulting. It's ... it's creative marketing, that's all!
DARIA: And I'd need all my
creative powers to see those guys as anything other than worthless cheats whose
raison d'etre is to make a quick buck by selling worthless piles of metal to
the gullible American buying public
JAKE: Well, there are more
car lots, Kiddo. Let's not give up now, huh? I'm sure we'll find someone who's
not...
DARIA: A used car salesman?
JAKE: You know, I'm really
proud of you, Kiddo. A lot of girls would have been really intimidated by those
guys. But you ... you just stood your ground and didn't let them get to you.
How do you -*do*- that?
DARIA: By following some very
good advice from my friends. I'm looking at this as doing something fun.
JAKE: Car shopping? (beat;
hopeful) Hanging out with your old man?
DARIA: Better. Moron-baiting.
(Jake grins kind of nervously
in the face of Daria's Mona Lisa smirk.)
END ACT 2 -- ADVERTS
-*ITV*- -- They are trying so
hard to revamp their image. Shame they spend more on their new ad campaign than
they do on their programming.
-*Next on TLAS*- -- Just when
you thought it was safe to ignore the darker side of the gang's recent history,
a familiar and much reviled face turns up. Hell hath no fury as "A Cullen
Scorned".
ACT 3
(Scene: the A-Tank. Music:
RockBitch -- "Nymphomaniac". Mara has been crammed into the back
amongst the instruments. Trent's driving; Nick has shotgun. Mara looks bored.)
MARA: (kiddie sing-song) Are
we theeeeeeeere yeeeeeeeet?
NICK: Hey, kid, how big into
ball gags are you?
MARA: (leer) Well, they
definitely have their place. And why would a kept man such as yourself ask?
NICK: Cos I'm gonna -*use*-
one on you if you don't shut that overworked mouth of yours!
MARA: (licentious in the
extreme) You wanna see this mouth working overtime? Come back here.
NICK: (to Trent) Remind me
why she had to ride with us?
TRENT: Lynn warned us; this
one's a bitch when she's bored. She was pissing everybody else off.
NICK: And now it's -*our*-
turn?
TRENT: Lynn said that since
we're the oldest, we're probably mature enough to be able to handle her without
doing what Joe did.
NICK: Heh; yeah, I didn't
even know we -*had*- Quaker villages in Carter County. (beat; shrewd) But
y'know, Trent ... if she -*did*- get herself stranded out there someplace ...
no noise, no competition...
TRENT: No -*way*-.
MARA: Awwwwww ... Babyfather
scared of a little competition? Listen to the cold fish's squeeze; you know
Lynn'd shoot you for rabid dogs if you ditched me out here.
NICK: Is she right?
TRENT: Yeah. (beat; nasty
smirk) But she gave us some ... options.
(Trent gestures to the
dashboard where an envelope marked "Open in event of Mara-related
meltdown" in Lynn's handwriting lies. Nick opens it, pulls out a piece of
paper, which he scans ... and then his smirk gets even wider than Trent's. Mara
looks a little bit worried.)
NICK: Hey, Trent, pull over a
sec.
(Mara now looks
-*exceedingly*- worried.)
(Scene: the Plymouth. Music
plays on. Jane's driving. Lynn's trying to scrape mud off her white Docs in the
backseat. Suddenly, the sound of overzealous car horns is heard from the
outside world. Jane looks in the rearview mirror and gets a really confused
look on her face.)
JANE: Lynn ... Mara's tied to
the A-Tank roof.
LYNN: (not in the least
surprised) Oh good. Trent caught up. We'll be there soon.
JANE: Lynn ... she's wearing
clown makeup and a "Bush is just another word for cunt" sign. (beat)
And nothing else.
LYNN: (still not looking up
but smirking slightly) Ah, I was hoping they'd use that one.
JANE: You ... you ... -*how*-
did ... -*why*-...
LYNN: Are you going to keep
stammering at me all day, or are you going to shut up and hand me your camera?
JANE: Both. (digs in the
glove compartment, hands the camera over) I got most of the extreme stuff --
Ace of Spades, Turn the Tables, fun with toothpaste... But -*this*- ... is...
LYNN: (snapping pictures)
Given that she's been pissing us all off for about two days, the word I'd use
is 'brilliant'.
(Slight pause)
JANE: I'm going to slow down
so you can get a better shot, okay?
(Lynn waves general assent.
Jane shakes her head bemusedly.)
(Scene: Car Dealership Strip.
Music: Silverchair -- "Point of View". Daria and a very tired-looking
Jake are standing outside yet another car lot, surveying their surroundings.)
JAKE: And I thought taking
Quinn shopping was hard... Kiddo, didn't you find -*anything*- you liked? Even
a -*little*-?
DARIA: No. And I also didn't
find anyone I was comfortable giving money to.
JAKE: Listen, Daria ... I
know I sort of pushed you into this, but I guess it's just that I figured that
wanting a car is the one thing that you'd have in common with other girls your
age. And even though it would make things a lot easier on Helen and me if you -*did*-
have a car you were willing to let your sister use while you're at college, if
you don't really -*want*- one, maybe we should just get you a taxi to whatever
that thing was you wanted to see in Oakwood.
(Daria looks at Jake for a
moment, pondering.)
DARIA: You said it yourself,
Dad; I don't let anyone push me into anything I don't really want to do for one
reason for another. And while my primary reason for car shopping wasn't exactly
to buy a car at first, the more I thought about it, the more I saw the
advantages. Even if I am going to England for the next three years, it'd be
nice to not have to rely on my friends as a sort of unpaid taxi service while
I'm still here.
JAKE: So ... you -*do*- want
a car? I haven't been too ... pushy?
DARIA: I do want a car. I
just don't want a -*second-hand*- car. Why don't we take another taxi ride and
I'll show you what I have in mind.
JAKE: Sure. (beat) Hey,
Kiddo? If you weren't shopping for a car because you wanted a car, why -*were*-
you spending all this time doing it?
DARIA: (after a short pause;
nearly muttering) It was as good an excuse as any for spending time with you.
(She heads off towards a
payphone; Jake looks after her, beaming.)
(Scene: Morgendorffer living
room. Music: Therapy? "Born Too Soon". Jake's gone back to his book.
Helen marches in with a very confused, slightly worried, somewhat angry look on
her face.)
HELEN: Jake, what is that car
doing in the driveway? You haven't gone and bought -*that*- without talking it
over with me first, have you?
JAKE: Relax, Helen. That's
not my car.
HELEN: Oh dear. Quinn hasn't
broken up with that Ted boy again, has she? After what happened the last time,
I don't think my nerves could take it...
JAKE: -*No*-, Helen, it's
-*Daria's*- car.
(Helen freezes, at a complete
loss for words as she struggles to find some suitable words.)
HELEN: Jake ... uh ... I
-*know*- we sometimes don't do all for Daria that we could, and maybe it seems
a little like Quinn gets all the attention, but ... don't you think buying her
-*that*- was a little ... ah ... extreme?
JAKE: No, Helen; she bought
it herself. Paid for it out of her own pocket. (slight frown) Kind of.
HELEN: (okay, that tears it)
-*WHAAAAAT*-?!? I'm going up there -*right*- now to find out how an
eighteen-year-old girl gets the money for...
JAKE: (overriding) Helen...
HELEN: (damn near biting his
head off) Not -*now*-, Jake!
JAKE: Yes, -*now*-, Helen. I
think you need to hear this.
(The look on her face subdues
Helen, and she sits down.)
HELEN: Hear what?
JAKE: How she got the money
for the car. (beat) Jerome left it to her.
HELEN: (back to indignant)
Oh, isn't that -*typical*- of Jerome to vanish for eighteen years and then do
something com-*plete*-ly overboard like... (his choice of words hits her)
...What do you mean, "left it to her"?
JAKE: (quietly) I'm sorry,
Helen. She said he ... died.
(Helen just sits there,
completely stunned. A moment or two into this heavy silence, Daria comes down
the stairs; she's obviously heard none of this.)
DARIA: Mom, Dad, I'm going to
Lynn's. I think they should be back by now and I wanted to show them the car.
JAKE: (looking at Helen)
Uh...
HELEN: (sounding better than
she looks) Okay, sweetie; have fun, but remember it's a school night.
DARIA: Uh ... are you okay?
HELEN: Fine, sweetie, just a
little tired, is all.
DARIA: Uh ... okay.
(Daria exits. Jake looks at
Helen, a little confused.)
JAKE: I thought you were
going to ask about...
HELEN: (sigh) Jake, what are
the odds she'd have -*told*- me how he died and what else went on? (beat) I
think I'll go out for awhile. (nervous) Oh, unless you think.
JAKE: It's okay, Helen. I
guess you -*do*- kind of need some time. Hey, even -*I*- got a little ... uh...
Well, you know.
HELEN: (small smile) Thank
you.
(Exit Helen. Jake looks a
little bit at a loss ... and then Quinn barges through.)
QUINN: Can't stop; Sandi
needs a little bit of help with her science paper and I told her that I kinda
knew about chemistry and stuff and what I don't know, I can fake, so bye!
(Door slams. This one
remaining slice of normalcy seems to have cheered Jake up a little. He smiles
and goes back to his book.)
(Scene: Cullen living room.
Music plays on. Jane has set an easel up in one corner and is rapidly fleshing
out a painting of what looks like an Olympic medal ceremony. In bronze position
are a trio of fat scruffy meatheads we've never seen before. In silver, the
Name-Droppers [Mara in the clown makeup, trying to hide her nudity behind her
Bush sign]; they all look pissed off except for Joe, who has a beatific smile
on his face. In gold position, and looking incredibly smug, are Trent, Nick,
Lynn and AP. Lynn wanders in with a bowl of chips and frowns at the artwork.)
LYNN: We didn't look that
self-congratulatory, did we?
JANE: No, but damnit, you
-*should've*-. Between the playing and the pranking, you were the winners all
the way around!
LYNN: It wasn't a contest.
JANE: Suuuuuuuure it wasn't.
LYNN: Aren't you supposed to
be rooting for your boyfriend in all this?
JANE: What, over my brother
and someone who knows where I live and how to make my paint blow up? I wouldn't
-*dream*- of it. Besides, he's...
LYNN: (slight smirk) A
Goat-boy-come-lately?
JANE: Actually, he hasn't,
but I'm not going into that with you.
(Lynn opens her mouth to
retort, but is interrupted by the sound of a car horn from outside. Lynn goes
to the window and looks out ... then freezes.)
JANE: So? Who is it?
LYNN: (dry) Bond. James Bond.
JANE: Say -*what*-?
(But Lynn's already made for
the outside world. Jane shrugs, puts her paintbrush down [on the carpet] and
follows.
(Scene: Cullen house, ext.
Music plays on. Jane gets three steps out of the house and stops -*dead*-. Pan
to what Jane sees; Daria leaning against the passenger side of a brand new
Aston Martin in a green so dark it's nearly black. Lynn's walking slowly around
the car, looking it over.)
DARIA: (smirk) You were right
about the Batmobile. So I got the next best thing.
JANE: How ... much ... did
... this ... thing ... -*COST*-?
DARIA: Not enough to make a
dent. (Jane lets out a small, pitiful, kicked-dog whimper.) So how'd the road
trip go?
LYNN: We made out okay ...
but not as well as -*you*- did, from the look.
DARIA: (evasive) Uh. Yeah.
JANE: (who doesn't get the
evasion) So how'd you slip that one past Jake? He may be sharp as a sofa
cushion, but there are some things even -*he's*- going to notice.
LYNN: (who does) He knows,
doesn't he.
DARIA: And I think he told
Mom.
JANE: So you're here to avoid
the Inqui... (cuts her eyes to Lynn, stops)
LYNN: (very small, very wry
smile) How can she avoid what nobody expects?
(Daria and Jane share a look
-- obviously some demons are, if not totally banished, then at least
effectively caged.)
DARIA: Actually, I don't
think there's much chance of that. Mom and Dad seem to have been made
thoroughly aware of their boundaries.
JANE: (slightly impatient) So
you came over to...
DARIA: Prove that I've
learned -*two*- lessons from you. Frivolity ... and how to show off.
(Jane shoots Daria a glare.
Daria gives her a slightly smug Mona Lisa smile.)
END
NOTES OF THANKS
Brian and Ben both helped jog
this one along slightly, but Bea, J and THM get the majority of the credit for
being supportive.
ENDNOTES
-*Lottery Wins*- -- Concept
courtesy CE Forman's "Lotto Nonsense".
-*Batmobile*- -- Hey, who's
to say that guy from "Sappy Anniversary" didn't still buy it?
-*The Grog*- -- For those of
you who will wonder or ask, he said, "Awwwwww I don't want to go to school
today".
-*Flakey Jakey*- -- Austin's
accidental contribution. *wave*
OBLIGATORY LEGAL BLAP