This is a work of fanfiction, not a real episode. The characters are owned by MTV and I’m a dirty rotten thief that should be hung from the nearest tree. Or not, you decide after reading this.
OK, this is my first attempt at a Daria fanfic, so have mercy.
Plus this is also my first try writing with script format, usually I do the standard English text. Here goes. Emily
setting is - brackets [ ]
person speaking is - colon Daria:
actions are - parentheses (smiles apologetically)
thoughts are - goofy brackets {I don’t know the name of these things!}
regular speech is - like this
***Scene 1***
[Lawndale High, house of torture; Mr. DeMartino’s class, last hour Friday]
Bell: BRRRRIINNNG!
Jane: (sighs) Ahh, is there any sound more refreshing than the final bell of school before a weekend?
Daria: The sound of one hand clapping? (the kids start to file out)
Mr. DeMartino: Don’t forget, CLASS, that your fifteen-page report over the revoLUtionary invention of your choice is due Monday. And this time, KEVIN, don’t just hand in the OWNer’s manual of your JEEP!
Kevin: You bet, Mr. D! (in the hallway) Hey Daria! I can’t think of any good ideas for my paper. Can you help me? I mean, my mind’s a total blank.
Daria: Big surprise there. Revolutionary, huh? How about the horseless carriage? The car was really useful in the battle for independence after all the horses were killed.
Kevin: (oblivious) Cool, dead stuff! Thanks Daria! (he rushes off, cleats squeaking on the floor)
Jane: I never cease to be amazed at that boy’s ability to swallow anything.
Daria: (hears a familiar giggle) Or Brittany’s.
Jane: Now that’s diversity, you’re cynical AND gross! So, we on for tonight’s all-night monster movie marathon? I rented the first five Freddy Kreuger movies. I want to do a montage of all the victims on canvas.
Daria: Sounds like fun. (they get to their lockers, start filling their backpacks) I’ll be there after supper. Mom’s on a “real families eat together” kick. So we’re eating our microwave lasagna at the table instead of in front of the TV.
Jane: Hey, count yourself lucky. Trent and his buddies ate all the food in the house, so I’m raiding my neighbor’s garden for supper. This morning I had dill for breakfast. (slams her locker shut) And I’m going for a run, so see ya later.
Daria: I’m taking the long way home to avoid as much contact with my family as possible. It may take hours. Later.
***Scene 2***
[Morgendorffer kitchen, suppertime. Helen, looking over a deposition, Jake, reading a tabloid, and Quinn, studying Waif as if it were the Bible, are eating lasagna.]
Helen: Does anyone know where Daria is? I don’t recall her saying anything about being late tonight. (looks cheerful) Maybe she’s got an after-school activity she hasn’t told us about!
Quinn: I don’t think so, Mom. I mean, have you seen her outfit lately? No self-respecting activity would let her in looking like that.
Jake: (doesn’t look up) Uh-huh, that's great honey. Did you know that Martians may be laying eggs in humans while we sleep? Then, out of the blue, just one day the person explodes! BOOM! Baby Martians fly everywhere!
Quinn: (shudders) Daddy, euww!
Helen: Jake, put away the damn newspaper and stop talking about such disgusting things!
Jake: But I need to be informed! What if I had Martian eggs growing in me and I didn’t know what was going on? (Daria walks in behind him) BOOM!
Daria: Ahh! (calms down quickly) Sorry I’m late. Upchuck tried to kidnap me again.
Jake: Oh, my God, Daria, are you OK? (runs over and gives Daria a hug) I’m so sorry you had to live through such an ordeal. I’ll call the police right--
Helen: Sit down Jake! Daria was joking again, weren’t you honey?
Daria: (more than a little weirded out) Uh, yeah. By the way, I’m spending the night at Jane’s house tonight. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. (beat) Or next year. (sits down, starts inhaling lasagna)
Quinn: Mo-om! Daria’s splashing sauce everywhere! I swear, if you get crud on my good shirt, I’ll-- I’ll-- (thinks hard) I’ll paint your boots pastel!
Daria: You do and I'll hack into the school's computer and give you straight A's. Anyway-(burps) I’m done. ‘Scuse me. (leaves to pack)
Helen: Did she seem in an even bigger hurry to leave than usual?
Jake: Oh, my God, Helen, Elvis may still be alive!!!
Helen: (sighs)
***Scene 3***
[Lane residence] (Daria rings the doorbell, and Trent answers)
Trent: Hey Daria. I hear you're crashing here tonight. That's cool. Janey's upstairs.
Daria: (blushing and tongue-tied) Hey. (she goes upstairs, talking to herself) Dammit! Highest IQ in a ten-mile radius and all I can think of is "hey"? (gets to Jane's room, knocks, goes in. Jane's getting ready to start a new art project by painting the canvas black)
TV: Is your furniture bugged and illegally sending your private conversations to the CIA? Larcenous listening lava lamps, next on Sick Sad World!
Daria: Tell me, Jane. Is there a connection between a lack of bouncy hair and lack of ability to speak coherently to a guy?
Jane: (finishes painting and looks up) More problems in Crush-Land?
Daria: I'm getting completely sick of this. I can't even look at him without blowing a fuse.
Jane: As opposed to what you'd rather be bl-- oh, hi Trent! (the subject matter sticks his head in the door)
Trent: Hey Janey, got any money? I need to put gas in the Tank so I can pick Jesse up.
Jane: Now there's a cause I can support! (hands him a twenty as Daria blushes furiously. Trent doesn't notice, as usual. He leaves)
Jane: Jeez, Daria, you really do have it bad. Maybe there's a 12-step program to help you.
Daria: I think I'll try the first five steps of the Elm Street program. I can imagine Trent is about to slash my throat with his steak-knife fingers. I won't have any problem making noise then. (she puts the movie in and Jane starts painting) Of course I'd be too busy screaming my vocal chords out to tell him how I really feel.
Jane: Don't worry. Things'll turn out OK. Don't movies always have happy endings?
Daria: Very funny.
***Scene 4***
[Jane's room. The girls are watching the second movie. Jane's stopped painting because she’s filled the canvas.)
Daria: Oh, yes. In my dreams I wear a skimpy lingerie set, too.
Jane: And my mental image of myself always has ten pounds of makeup on.
Daria: (takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes) Let's take a break. My eyes are going to have a permanent red tinge thanks to all the gore.
Jane: We still don't have any food. And I think the neighbors are setting bear traps for me in their gardens.
Daria: Don't worry about it. I brought pop-tarts, breakfast of champions.
Jane: (her eyes misting over) Have I told you lately that you're my very best friend in the whole entire world? (there's a knock on the door. Daria hits stop on the VCR) Yo! (Trent walks in)
Trent: Did I hear the word breakfast? Jesse wasn't home. I think his family wants him to get a job, so now he's on vacation in Tijuana. (Jane looks crestfallen. Trent pulls out a paper bag) Oh, I almost forgot. I filled the Tank a few days ago, and didn't need to put much gas in. I used the rest of the money to get you this.
Jane: Please let it be pizza, please let it be pizza. (reaches in the bag) What the HELL? Wine coolers? Jesus, Trent, are you trying to get arrested? We're minors, you dumbass!
Daria: Maybe he thinks it'll look good on his Behind the Music. {God, did I actually just say that?}
Trent: (laugh-coughs) Good one. Nah, I just figured since you weren't going anywhere anyway, you could have some fun. I'll put those in the fridge.
Daria: Hey, hold on a second. (turns to Jane) He's right, you know. We aren't going to go anywhere wasted, and I know he won't tell the cops. Plus I've never tried wine coolers. If we totally hate them, we can give them back
Jane: You are totally out of your freaking mind. I'll try one too. (Trent shrugs and hands her back the bag. He leaves) You mind telling me what that was all about?
Daria: (has a puzzled look on her face) I have no idea. It's like my brain went on autopilot and I told him exactly what would make me look the best to him. (shudders) God, this is what Quinn feels like, day after day. No wonder she's addicted to adoration. You've got to find an upside after saying something like that.
Jane: So, my fellow alcy, what say you put the movie back on and I'll pop the top on our brewskies.
Daria: Stop, you're making me nauseous already, and I haven't even had any yet. (Hits play. Jane hands her a bottle)
Jane: Bottoms up.
***Scene 5***
[still Jane's room, only an hour and a sixpack later.]
Jane: (slurs her words a little)God, Jason’s a putz! I mean, look at the way he just chases after everyone in the open. If it was me, I'd put on a disguise to look like a normal person and gut them when they weren't looking.
Daria: (slurs her words a lot) No you wouldn't. It'd be thoo-- too much work. You'd just send them a virus in the mail.
Jane: Good idea. Do know where we could get some ebola, and do you know Kevin's address?
Daria: (falls off the bed onto the floor) Ow. Do you ever look at your brother in the shower? God, he's hot! (sighs dreamily)
Jane: Of course not you drunk pervert! (giggles) But it did happen by accident once. (Daria immediately pops her head over the edge of the bed)
Daria: Tell me every detail or-- or-- (can't think of anything) I'll do something embarrassing to you.
Jane: You are so sick! I will not tell you on a boat, I will not tell you by a moat--
Daria: Tell me or I'll slit your throat. (she draw a finger across her neck. Or rather, tries to but ends up poking herself in the nose) I can't believe that just happened. I'm not graceful but usually my neurons carry messages well.
Jane: This is way sad. You have like no tolerance for alcohol at all. I just hope there's no hangover. (grins evilly) That would make Trent think less of you.
Daria: That's it. I've had enough of this. I'm going to tell him what I really feel right now! (gets unsteadily to her feet) If he doesn't like me, then I'll find out now. And if he does, then WHEE! (she staggers out of the room)
Jane: This I've got to see.
***Scene 6***
[Lane basement. Trent is working on a new song.]
Trent: (singing) The door is shut, my eyes are closed/ and no one else can feel my woes/ My heart is screaming from what I feel/ it may not be physical but the pain is real. Dammit, now what was that chord again? (Daria wobbles down the stairs)
Daria: Hey. Cool song. I can relate.
Trent: (doesn't hear her) Alone in the dark and just with my mind/ I go over again what I've left behind/ I thought I was the hero saving the day/ But I broke both our hearts when I walked away. (Daria, emotional, gives him a hug. Trent finally notices she's there)
Daria: Oh, Trent, I had no idea you felt that way about me!
Trent: Huh? What're you doing down here? I thought you and Janey were watching movies or something. (tries to shake Daria off but can't. She won't let go because she'll fall over) What's going on?
Daria: I had to come and talk to you. Since you're oblivious to anything but music most of the time, I decided to tell you flat out. I, Daria Morgendorffer, am completely in love with you. (she looks him straight in the eyes, smiles, and passes out)
Trent: Jeez, remind me never to give her anything stronger. She WHAT?(it finally sinks in and he drops her. He looks up to see Jane watching from the stairwell) Did you know about this, Janey?
Jane: Yup. She's been that way since she moved here. I tried to play matchmaker with you two, but you were too stupid to notice and it just made Daria mad. So I stopped. And now, thanks to your wine coolers and her nonexistent tolerance to alcohol, she spilled everything anyway. I hope you're proud of yourself. (Daria snores from the floor) Let's get Drunken Beauty up to bed. (they carry her up the stairs and plop her on the couch)
Jane: G'night Trent.
Trent: G'night Janey. (he looks thoughtful as he goes to bed) That long, huh?
***Scene 7***
[Casa Lane in the morning. The others are awake and Daria is just coming to.]
Daria: (moans) Ick. My mouth tastes like I chewed on insulation.
Jane: (way too cheerful) Speaking of breakfast, here's a pop-tart. It's strawberrily delicious.
Daria: When my head reattaches to my body, remind me to hurt you. (remembers last night's mission) Oh my God. Did I do what I think I did last night?
Jane: If you mean getting drunk and giving away your most closely guarded secret before passing out in your crush's arms, then yes. You had an eventful night.
Trent: (appears in the doorway) I'll say. Janey, can I talk to Daria alone?
Jane: Sure.
(simultaneously)
Daria: No. (Jane leaves)
Daria: (stares at her hands) So, I guess you want an explanation, huh?
Trent: No, you made things pretty clear last night. I guess I’ve just been an idiot and haven’t seen it. (beat) So, you've liked me since you first got here?
Daria: Um, yeah. I really don't want to explain it. I don't think I can. Last night I just felt like it was now or never and I wouldn’t have the guts again. I heard the song you were working on last night, and I guess I kind of overreacted. What do you really think of me? I was being honest, even if I didn't know what I was saying. So if you can--
Trent: (grins) Daria, you're babbling. That doesn't happen very often, so it must be part of the hangover. (gets serious) I like you. You're younger than me and you’re my kid sister's friend, but you're the coolest girl I know. (Daria smiles) No, that song wasn't about you. I just made it up. But I would like to do something with you this weekend, if you're not busy.
Daria: You bet!(nods her head but soon regrets it) Ow! But first, do you have any aspirin? (Jane tosses her a bottle of Tylenol from the doorway) You little spy. Did you squeal on me last night after I passed out, too? I know I didn't tell Trent how long I've liked him.
Jane: Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?
Daria: A loyal one. See if I do any of your invention report for you this weekend.
Jane: Oh God, I forgot about that. Fifteen pages. Jeez, that guy's a sadist.
Trent: Wanna borrow the owner's manual of the Tank?
End.
====================
Holy cow, that sucker was long. The song Trent sings is actually part of a poem I wrote. I, too, wrote is as a work of fiction and not based an real experiences. So shoot me. Well, I got it done, so what did you think? Write me at ebischoff@hotmail.com so I know.