Like Father, Like—
©2006 The Angst Guy (firstname.lastname@example.org)
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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. He is assumed to have been born about 1950.
Acknowledgements: My thanks to Kara Wild for the push.
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 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.
you in every matter. You have succeeded admirably as a parent (even with Quinn, go figure), and I am proud to call you Dad.
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 get my car fixed, life would be perfect. See you soon.
Original: 02/02/04, modified 11/21/04, 07/23/06, 09/22/06