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Father, Like—
©2004 The Angst Guy
(theangstguy@yahoo.com)
Feedback (good, bad, indifferent,
just want to bother me, whatever) is appreciated. Please write to:
theangstguy@yahoo.com
Synopsis: What personality quirks did
Daria inherit from her father, Jake? One possibility is explored in this
ficlet.
Author’s
Notes:
Early in 2004, Kara Wild challenged several fanfic authors on PPMB to write a
story that was not “over the top,” something with a true-to-life and
true-to-series flavor. This story is the result. Jake Morgendorffer is a
Capricorn, per the “Vows of Commitment” page in The Daria Diaries, and
he is assumed to have been born about 1950.
Acknowledgements: My thanks to Kara Wild for
the push.
*
Dear Dad,
Happy 51st Birthday to you, from your eldest
offspring at college in Boston. Forgive me for not being home for your party,
but the Raft College faculty was thoughtful enough to schedule three exams and
a pop quiz on that day. My academic future hangs in the balance. Plus, my car
is in the shop with a loose muffler. No, please don’t send any more money.
Unless you feel you must. And only if you want me be there next week to see
you, Mom, and Quinn for Christmas vacation.
Attached to this standard greeting card is a
moderate-size package, the contents of which you may discover at your leisure.
The sales slip is enclosed in case you have to return it, though I did ensure
that the contents are indeed in your size and Quinn assured me that the colors
are perfect for you. I defer to the expert in this matter. I bought it at the
Boston outlet of J. J. Jeeters, but you can take it back to the store in the
Lawndale Mall if necessary.
During my last visit home, you expressed a concern
to me that I feel obliged to address, regarding the results of your efforts at
fathering. Despite your multitude of fears about this issue, your overall
influence on me has been nothing but beneficial. I adopted only the most
positive personality traits from
Hearing noises above her head, Daria
Morgendorffer stopped typing and glared through her glasses at the ceiling of
her second-floor efficiency apartment. Her breath frosted the air, reminding
her to complain again to the landlord about the poor state of the heating
system. The heating problem could wait for now, though.
A moment later, the scratching sound
was repeated, followed by the scampering of tiny feet across the attic floor
above. Daria sat motionless at her little desk, her fingers hovering over the
keyboard.
The scampering feet paused about halfway across the ceiling, then were joined by more scampering feet from the holes in the roof. One set headed for the eastern corner of the attic—and a sudden metallic bang silenced them.
“One,” Daria whispered.
Frightened little feet whirled
around in every direction now. One set of feet scrambled toward the corner by
the doorway—and a second metallic bang rang out.
“Two,” said Daria in a louder voice.
The third and last set of clawed
feet went for the opposite side of the attic—but when the metallic bang sounded
from there, the creature shot across the ceiling in another direction entirely.
“Misfire! Damn it!” Daria got
up from her writing table and padded softly across the room in her socks and
slippers, listening all the while. The intruder was still in the attic,
unwilling to flee the relative warmth there for the bitter cold of mid-December
in Boston—not that Daria felt much warmer in her apartment wearing long
underwear, jeans, sweater, and fingerless gloves. Picking up a broom, she
raised the handle to the ceiling and waited.
The scratching of little clawed feet
began a few moments later. Using the broomstick, Daria immediately banged the
ceiling under that spot as hard as she could and snarled, “Go, you little
bastard!”
The little creature went. Not two
seconds later, its movements were interrupted by a fourth metallic clang.
Daria lowered her broom and smiled
in triumph. “That’ll teach you to screw around with a Morgendorffer,” she
muttered, then put the broom down and returned to her computer. She rubbed her
hands together, lowered her fingers to the keyboard, and finished her letter.
from you in every matter. You have succeeded
admirably as a parent (even with Quinn, go figure), and I am proud to call you
Dad.
Your daughter,
Daria
P.S. It is appropriate for me to say “I love you” at
this point.
P.P.S. Thank you again for the live animal traps. The local squirrel population has been greatly reduced, and their love of peanut butter continues to be their downfall. My sleep and work time are much improved. Plus, I in am in good stead with the animal relocation group here, and if Quinn ever wants a pet possum, I can get one in any size or sex she likes. Perhaps I will surprise her with one for Christmas. Oh joy, oh rapture. (I’m kidding, Dad.) Now, if I could only get more heat up here, and my car fixed, life would be perfect. See you soon.
Original:
02/02/04, modified 11/21/04
FINIS