The five teenagers sat around a table, playing poker. A black haired, rangy looking boy tossed his cards on the table.
"Bollocks!" he swore, "'O dealt this ****e?"
"You did, you tosser," said one of the auburn haired twins. "If ye don't loike it, ye've yerself t'bloime, Trent Fawkes."
"Right," said Trent's sister, Jane Jr., "You're bluffin' ain'tcha, y'Mick bitch?"
"Oi've a name," said Amy O'Patrick, "and Oi'll be t'ankin' ye's to use it."
"Oi, Amy," said Helen O'Patrick, reaching across the table, "Quit hoggin' th' whiskey."
Trent dragged on his cigarette, and watched the smoke curl in the air as he exhaled.
"Y'know, I've been thinkin'," he said. "Life would be so bleedin' much better if me parents 'ad never met. Mum could've married that Tom bloke and we'd be rollin' in the dough instead of eakin' out some lame exitence as minor 'olidays. Especially 'avin' t'share me day wiv a Mick twit like you."
"Boite me, May Day," said Amy.
"You wish, Beltane," he replied.
Jay-Jay glowered at Helen. "Y'ain't the only tosser wiv that problem, bro."
Helen glared at Jay-Jay. "Roight," she said back at her, "Ain't me fault King Chuckie chose Lughnasa for 'is bleedin' coronation day!"
"Anyroads," continued Helen with an arrogant grin, "our Ma woulda had a better chance hookin' up wi' that Tom bloke. Took him from ye'r ma easy as cheese, didn't she?"
"Bollocks, our mum was there, firstest wiv the mostest," said Trent. "If she'd only 'ave put out, me and Jay-Jay would be on Easy Street tossin' you the odd bob every now an' then jus' t'see your pratie-grubbin' arse's scramble for the loot."
"Oi'll do you fer that, y'skinny Loimey git!" shouted Helen, pausing long enough for Amy to hold her back.
"People, people!" said the fat, redheaded girl, "chill out! Feel the love flowing through your souls and changing your anger to happiness."
Amy glowered at her. "Is it that ye've anted up yet, Sandi Cupid, or is it just sittin' there ye were, takin' another hit o' Ecstasy?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Gay Pride Day smiled.
"I've 'ad enough," said Trent, "I need anover 'it." He got up and started out of the room.
"Use your own bleedin' needle this time," said Jay-Jay.
"Bollocks."
I can't remember precisely who issued this Iron Chef Challenge, but I did include this postscript. Obviously I was somehow trying to justify the existence of this wretched mess;-D
"So there you have it, if Daria had never met the holidays, St. Paddy's Day would have never eloped with her and Quinn and Jane would have never gone to rescue her and fall in love with their own holidays, and these poor kids would have never met around a poker table, wasting their minds with drugs, drinks, and nicotine. Did I miss anything? :wink: "
But anyway, if someone remembers who made the challenge, please let me know so I can acknowledge them.
Daria and other characters from the show are of course, property of MTV and Viacom. Any original characters and settings are my own. This is a work of fanfic, and is therefore a work of love and not meant for profit. And all hail Glenn Eichler and Suzy Lewis!