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The
Thong
Remains
the Same
©2009
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: In this
sensitive and insightful, though unofficial, continuation of Kara Wild’s Driven
Wild Universe, Amy and Joel separate after fighting over a trivial issue, as
married couples usually do, and they and Daria, Jane, Quinn, Helen, Jake, Tom,
and everyone else wander Lawndale in search of a plot that is supposed to
involve thongs. I think this is also the first Daria fanfic to feature a Hooters restaurant as a major setting.
Author’s
Notes: It has been a long time since we’ve had a Driven Wild
Universe story to thrill and entertain and move us. Kara Wild, our first-class
spinner of tales, has moved on to bigger and better things, and that leaves the
rest of us with only our happy memories to keep us warm at night, not that I am
implying anything in saying that. However, with Kara Wild’s gracious
permission—which, legally speaking, completely absolves me from blame for
creating this abomination—we now have one more DWU story, that being this one,
which takes place after DWU episode #20, “Memory Road.” Note: I borrowed part
of Scene 1 from something Kara wrote on PPMB. I’m admitting it, so I didn’t
really steal it. Also, the baby’s name is actually RYAN, or so Kara says, but Kara says a lot of things and let’s
not quibble over unimportant details. This story
originally appeared on the new PPMB website in a much less edited form, if you
can believe that. I was trying to remember what moved me to write this, but all
I can recall is a PPMB discussion about thongs, Quinn dating a possum, and sex
between people pretending they are pirates. Kara did not ask me to write this,
as she would technically have to be insane to do so.
I should
point out that it helps to have read Kara Wild’s DWU before starting this, as
you’ll understand then why Quinn wears glasses and acts like a brain, or Tom
hasn’t dumped Jane, or who the hell Joel is, etc. Or you can just read this
story, which is a lot shorter and much easier to handle. Plus, it has 750% more
thong than DWU does.
By the
way, this story makes use of a free font used in the title (and other places)
that you might like. It is called Jester and can be downloaded from dafont.com or urbanfonts.com, among
other fine places.
BONUS! This version of “The
Thong Remains the Same” comes with an ending scene not
shown on PPMB! Download this story immediately and show all your friends!
Acknowledgements: None of
this would be possible without the stupendously brilliant work of Kara Wild,
who created DWU just so that I could produce this horrible, horrible parody of
it. Kara also contributed commentary to keep the story on-canon (ha!) and
suggested the addition of Lindy and the use of the word “uncle” since Joel was married to Amy at the time of this story, which I sort
of forgot. Brandon League gets credit for spotting an error, as he always does
in everything I write, and I mean everything, thank God I am not bitter
about it, and I shamelessly stole the whole pirate/sex subplot from Galen
“Lawndale Stalker” Hardesty’s “The Teachings of Doña
Daria,” because—hey! Pirates are sexy! Everybody loves pirates! Also,
Kristen Bealer makes a guest appearance with a “special friend,” although I
can’t remember now why I wrote her into the script. I think it was punishment
for something. Oh, well. This story is respectfully dedicated to Frito Lay,
which made the large sack of Doritos I ate as I wrote this story. Enjoy!
*
EXT: Exterior scene
VO: Voice over (off screen)
1.
INT: LATE SUMMER NIGHT, AMY AND JOEL’S HOME, BEDROOM
We look into a typical bedroom.
Joel is undoing his silk shirt. His black trousers are on, but his belt is
undone and shoes are off. Amy is in the bathroom with the door shut.
JOEL: [to Amy] The sitter told me our little ankle biter was the best
little ankle biter in the whole world! Ain’t he great?
AMY: [VO] If
she didn’t say it, she wouldn’t get paid. She knows the rules.
JOEL: Well, at least she said
it. By the way, when are we going to give Junior Johnson a name? He’s six
months old, for chrissakes.
AMY: [VO] Don’t
rush me, okay? I’m still thinking about it! His whole life depends on a good
name!
JOEL: His whole life depends on
just getting a name, Amy. I mean, everyone’s calling him The Little Dude
or Amy’s Kid or Prince Poopalot or John Doe or stuff
like that. It’s sort of embarrassing. Just pick something soon, okay?
AMY: [VO] You
don’t understand. Men never do.
JOEL: [rolls eyes] Whatever. Say, your sister Helen really knows how to throw a
divorce party, huh? Whew! So, she and the Jakester are
history now, huh?
AMY: [VO] I think she went a
little over the top with those sculpted hot dog treats.
JOEL: The Bobbit
Burgers? Well, they did look kinda realistic. [winces] Maybe a little too
realistic.
AMY:
[VO] I mean, what was Helen thinking? Her daughters were there! They could’ve
been traumatized!
JOEL: Oh, I saw Daria eat two of
those Bobbit Burgers. With lots of
ketchup, too. That artist friend of hers ate about a half dozen.
AMY: [VO] Well, Quinn could have
been traumatized.
JOEL: Nah. The Math Club was
keeping her entertained with calculator tricks. Those nerds really like her. I
bet it’s her glasses. Dorks always go for chicks with glasses. Some kind of
mating signal, I bet. Know what? I think the Math Club wanted a little piece of
Quinn pi. Get it? Math Club? Pi? [long
silence] Amy? Did you get it?
AMY: [VO] I got it, I got it!
I’m in Mensa, remember? I got it!
JOEL: [under his breath] Sounds
like you’re having a little Mensa problem there. Or should I say,
a little menses problem.
AMY: [VO] What?
JOEL: Nothing, dearest! [takes off his silk shirt, blows his nose on it, and kicks it
under the bed]
Amy quietly opens the bathroom
door and saunters out. She is wearing a mostly unbuttoned man’s shirt and a
thong, but nothing else. She creeps up behind Joel and puts her arms around
him.
AMY: Hey, handsome! Notice
anything . . . different?
JOEL: Uh . . . I like the way
you did your hair.
AMY: Oh, thanks, you
idiot! I did my hair two weeks ago!
AMY: You never notice anything
about me!
JOEL: You did your nails? Your eyes? Mustache?
AMY: Joel!
JOEL: You bought something
through the Internet to make your boobs bigger? Help me out, okay?
AMY: You dope! Look at
me!
[Amy turns around while pulling
her shirt up, revealing that she’s wearing a thong. She wiggles her behind.]
JOEL:
Oooh, that’s . . . [long pause] Hmmm.
AMY: What?
JOEL: Oh, uh, nothing. It looks
great. I mean, it’s grrrr-REAT!
AMY: But you’re saying that
something’s wrong with it, right? Do you like my thong?
JOEL: [pause] Uh,
no, no, of course not. Wait! I mean, yeah, I do, I—
AMY: Oh, I knew you’d hate it!
JOEL: What? All I originally
said was “Hmmm”!
Amy looks doubtful, but she
turns and wiggles her behind again.
AMY: So, you do like it?
AMY: Does it make my butt look
big? Tell me!
JOEL: No! No, no, no, no, no,
no, no! Of course not! You look great! Both of you!
AMY: It does make my butt look a
little bit big, though, doesn’t it?
JOEL: Amy, for heaven’s sakes,
no! You look fantastic! Your butt . . . it’s just a little bigger than Helen’s,
maybe, but it—
AMY: [after a beat] WHAAAT?
JOEL: Oh, man. That was a joke!
Amy, wait—no! Amy! AMY! AAAAAA—
2. INT: LATER THAT NIGHT,
MORGENDORFFER HOME, LIVING ROOM
Daria and Jane sit on the sofa,
watching TV with a large bowl of popcorn between them.
TV ANNOUNCER: Area woman
attempts to strangle her husband with her thong! Film and a live report at
eleven!
DARIA: That’s Amy and Joel, I
bet.
JANE: Those wacky kids. So in love.
DARIA: So insane.
JANE: So, do you think I’d look
good in a thong?
DARIA: God, Lane. I just ate.
The doorbell rings.
QUINN: [runs downstairs, wears
glasses] I’ll get it it’s for me don’t open it let me
open it it’s for—
Quinn opens the front door to
reveal Aunt Amy standing there. Amy wears an overcoat and carries two
suitcases.
QUINN: [sighs and walks back
upstairs] Daria, it’s your future self come to warn you about your wardrobe.
Daria and Jane get up and walk
over as Amy walks in and puts down her suitcases.
DARIA: Hmm, you’re not the Math
Club come to take Quinn out to Chez Pierre, and you’re not Dad in drag, pulling
a Mrs. Doubtfire, so you must be . . . the Spanish
Inquisition.
JANE: No one expec—
AMY: Another word,
and you’re toast.
JANE: —ts
the, um . . . [coughs]
AMY: Don’t get married, Daria.
Just don’t. Don’t live with a man, don’t hook up with a boyfriend, don’t let a
boy put his hand up your blouse or down in your pants, don’t even look at of
them. Don’t have anything to do with men at all. Ever.
Be a lesbian, Daria. You’ll be happier for it. Trust me on this.
DARIA: So, how’s Joel?
AMY: Men are pure evil, Daria.
They drop used underwear with railroad tracks in them and everything right on
the floor, just leave it lying right there in the shower and in the vegetable
crisper and in the china cabinet and your car’s glove compartment, anyplace
that looks vaguely like a clothes hamper, they’ll put it.
DARIA: Once when Quinn was
three, she threw her—
AMY: Their feet stink when they
don’t change their socks every week, and when they eat too much bean-and-onion
chili and have the most horrible flatulence in the whole freaking world, they
wait until the middle of the night and then pull the covers over your head and
gas you and then laugh exactly like lobotomized hyenas.
JANE: [laughs hysterically] Oh,
that’s great! I love that! I’m going to try that the next—
DARIA: Jane.
JANE: [laughter dies] Uh . . . I
meant, good to see you, Amy!
DARIA: How did this harmless
little nuclear exchange get started?
AMY: It doesn’t matter. It was
over something completely trivial and unimportant. I can’t even remember what
the argument was about. My ass isn’t that big, anyway. And Joel and I
are fine. I’m just moving in with your mother until Joel is dead.
JANE:
But what about the baby?
AMY: I’ll have UPS ship him over
after my wounded inner self has been healed.
DARIA: Ah. You’re punishing Joel
by sticking him with Prince Poopalot for a week.
AMY: About damn time that jerk learned to change a diaper.
DARIA: I’ll get Quinn’s room
ready.
AMY: But wouldn’t Quinn have to
move out first?
DARIA: [after a beat] Your point is . . .?
AMY: Never mind, I’ll take the
spare bedroom. If Helen can crash with me when she has man trouble, I can crash
with her.
JANE: Men certainly are trouble,
aren’t they?
AMY: You can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t shoot ‘em and
throw ‘em out of your car by the side of the
Interstate—not legally, I think. It might be littering. Helen would know.
JANE: I have a boyfriend. He’s
handsome and smart and cool and rich, but one of these days, some other girl is
going to stick her tongue down his thro—
DARIA: No one wants to hear
about it, Jane. Come on, Aunt Amy. [picks up a
suitcase, leads Amy into the house]
JANE: I’m mostly over it now,
though.
DARIA: [leaving the room] Good. Shut up.
JANE: My therapist says I’ll be
doing pretty well once I lick the mutilation thing.
DARIA: [VO] Jane!
JANE: Joking!
Jane gets the other suitcase and
follows Daria and Amy off to the spare bedroom.
JANE: [under her breath]
Bee-itch!
3. INT: EARLY NEXT MORNING, MORGENDORFFER HOME,
LIVING ROOM
Daria and Jane are asleep on the
sofa, an empty bowl of popcorn between them. The TV shows a farm report about
hog prices. Daria lies on her side, half covered by an afghan. Her mouth open,
and she snores lightly. Jane slouches with her head back. As we watch, Jane
stirs, scratches herself under her T-shirt, and stretches, awakening. She looks
down and sees Daria.
JANE: [whispers] So innocent. So harmless. So ready to swap spit with my boyfriend. [evil
look crosses her face] Heh heh heh heh heh.
Jane moves the popcorn bowl off
the couch and slowly scoots over next to the snoring Daria. Jane then carefully
drapes the afghan over Daria’s face, making sure it covers Jane’s lower half as
well.
JANE: [whispers] Launch sequence
started. Ten, nine, eight . . .
4. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME,
MORGENDORFFER HOME, KITCHEN
Helen Morgendorffer and her sister
Amy sit at the kitchen table, wearing bathrobes. Their hair is a mess, and
neither appears to have slept well. On the table between them is a huge
container of chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice cream with two large spoons stuck
in it.
AMY: And he leaves pubic hairs
in the shower soap! Can you believe that? It takes me half an hour each day to
get all of them out!
HELEN: Joel looked like such a
polite, cultured, neatnik kind of guy when I was
staying with you. What happened?
AMY: We got married.
HELEN: Oh. Yeah, I remember Jake
also changed after our little hippie wedding.
AMY: Excuse me? Jake was a
clueless nutcase crybaby long before you got married.
HELEN: Well, yeah, but there was
more of that after.
AMY: What ever attracted you to
him in the first place?
HELEN: He always put his
underwear in the hamper.
AMY: Oh. [sigh]
Boy, I’d love to meet a man who did that.
Amy gets up from the table to
look in the refrigerator.
AMY: [head in the refrigerator] What is it with men? As soon as they get married, they
completely change! They’re like Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein and his monster,
Doctor Evil and Mini-Me, the Captain and Tennille. You put a ring on ‘em, and
they go from one extreme to the other! When I met him, Joel was sweet and
picked up all his clothes and didn’t floss and belch at the dinner table or
watch ESPN when I was trying to get it on with him! And he hasn’t changed the
baby once! Why are guys so fickle? I haven’t changed! I’m still the same
rational, open-minded, sensitive intellectual I was before I married that
stinking scum-sucking pig two-faced microcephalic
dirtball male twit!
As Amy rants, Helen frowns.
She’s staring at Amy’s bathrobe-covered behind as Amy bends over, rummaging
through the refrigerator. Helen looks down at her own lap and lifts her hands,
holding them as far apart as the width of her hips. She eyeballs Amy’s behind
again, her hands moving apart a few more inches. Helen’s eyebrows raise, and
she leans forward, looking surprised as she moves her hands apart another few
inches.
Amy abruptly turns around and
sees Helen. Helen claps her hands together and shrugs and smiles innocently as
if nothing were going on.
AMY: What?
HELEN: What?
AMY: [points at Helen] What?
HELEN: [looks innocent] What?
AMY: What’s with this? [points at Helen’s hands]
HELEN: This? [looks
at her hands in pretend confusion]
AMY: No, this! [holds up her hands just as Helen did] You were—
DARIA: [VO, in the living room]
AAAAUUUGGGGHHH!!! [coughing and choking sounds]
HELEN: [stands up from table]
Girls! Are you awake yet?
Jane wanders into the kitchen in
her rumpled clothes. She has an enormously satisfied smirk on her face.
JANE: Up and ready. [yawning] What time is it?
HELEN: Eight-fifteen.
JANE: Wow, that’s a new record
for me! But why is it still light out?
HELEN: It’s eight-fifteen in the
morning.
JANE: The morning? Oh,
man, I’m going home to bed.
HELEN: No, don’t! Stay and have
some ice cream with us before I go to work! I’ll get you a spoon.
JANE: Hmmm. You’re eating ice
cream right out of the container. By any chance, were you two complaining to
each other about your guy problems or something?
AMY: Oh, no, of course not. Why
would we talk about men? Why would anyone want to talk about men? What could
there possibly be about men that would make anyone ever want to talk about
them? Answer me, damn it! Why why why
why WHY?!?!
Jane thinks, then
looks into the ice-cream container.
JANE: Chocolate-chip cookie
dough. Hmmm. Did I ever tell you about my boyfr—my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, Tom?
HELEN: [hands something to Jane]
Here’s a spoon.
Jane, Amy, and Helen sit down
and start in on the ice cream.
HELEN: Where’s Daria?
JANE: Getting a little fresh
air.
5. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME, MORGENDORFFER HOME, DARIA
AND QUINN’S UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
Daria washes off her face,
coughing and spitting into the sink. Quinn walks in wearing her glasses and
nightclothes.
QUINN: Spray some Lysol in the
sink when you’re done, okay?
DARIA: [gasps] Can’t. Gargled the last of it.
QUINN: Tell Mom we need more,
then. Listen, Daria, I’ve been thinking about Mom and Dad and Aunt Amy and
Uncle Joel, and—
DARIA: Group marriages are
illegal, but I’d go to the wedding anyway if Mom served those Bobbit Burgers again.
QUINN: No, listen! I worked this
out on my computer. We have to come up with something that will get everyone
back together again. If we pool our brains, we can make it work.
DARIA: Quinn, if we pooled our
brains, I’d lose fifty IQ points. Stop getting your ideas from reruns of “The
Lucy Show,” okay?
QUINN: Daria, seriously! Just
imagine what horrible kind of mental anguish Joel and Amy’s Kid are
experiencing now!
6. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME, AMY AND
JOEL’S HOME, LIVING ROOM
Joel and his infant son sit on
an overstuffed couch, watching a TV set connected to a DVD player. Joel wears
Star Wars boxer shorts and a Chicago Cubs T-shirt, with oversized pink
rabbit-faced fuzzy slippers on his feet. He holds a Duff beer can. His infant
son wears bulky disposable diapers and a blue “I’m With Stupid!” T-shirt, holding a baby bottle up to his mouth.
JOEL: [to infant son, pointing
to TV] See that? That’s Cameron Diaz. Whoa. Now,
that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Look at that butt.
It’s all about butt, Little Dude. Look at that. Damn! [drinks
beer]
Joel’s son looks at him while
sucking on the baby bottle. The little boy then looks back at the TV. On the
TV, we see Cameron Diaz in an opening scene of Charlie’s Angels, dancing
in her home and shaking her bootie to music. Joel’s son stares at Cameron
Diaz’s breasts, not her wiggle-waggle behind.
JOEL: Now, that’s a butt.
Man, I’m tellin’ ya! You
know, your mom’s got a great butt, but . . . I dunno.
[drinks beer] We’re married now, and it’s not the
same, really. I mean, Amy’s got a fantastic butt, the best, but it’s like . . .
you know, like I’m supposed to look at her butt. It’s not like, um, you
know, forbidden fruit. I mean, she didn’t keep me from looking at her butt, she practically stuck it in my face every chance she
got, but it was like, you know, forbidden, sort of, before we got married. Now
it’s like I have to look at her butt. It just ruins everything. You know
what I mean?
Joel’s son pulls the bottle from
his mouth and burps loudly.
JOEL: Damn right! [drink beer, looks at TV] Man, oh, man. Now, that’s a majorly
serious species of butt! Go, mama! Yeah! Shake that thing for me!
7. INT: A MOMENT LATER, MORGENDORFFER HOME, DARIA
AND QUINN’S UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
DARIA: What makes you think we
need to engineer some kind of “Parent Trap” deus ex machina to get the wayward adults back together? Maybe it’s better they all go find someone else. In the meanwhile,
we can change our names and move to
QUINN: Oh, Daria, don’t you ever
worry about Dad? Can’t you imagine the self-esteem problems he must be having,
knowing that because of his behavior, he’s lost his wife and family?
8. EXT: ABOUT THIS TIME, JAKE MORGENDORFFER’S
Jake is at the wheel of a bright
red Lamborghini, doing 115 mph down the Interstate with eight police cars and
two National Guard helicopters in hot pursuit behind him. He appears insanely
happy. Brittany Taylor and the rest of the Lawndale High School cheerleading
squad are packed into the car with him, every one of them drunk and naked and
laughing their heads off.
JAKE: Easy! I went to college!
Everyone laughs hysterically.
JAKE: I see it! Here we go!
YEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAW!!!!
The car hits the oil slick and
spins around like a mad amusement park ride. Everyone screams with crazed
excitement.
9. INT: A MOMENT LATER,
MORGENDORFFER HOME, DARIA AND QUINN’S UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
DARIA: Okay, you’ve made your
point. What do you think we have to do to get the balls and chains on everyone
again?
QUINN: Just leave everything to
me.
DARIA: I will. Meanwhile, I’ll
change my name to Daria Gonzales and get an apartment in
10. INT: MIDMORNING,
MORGENDORFFER HOME, KITCHEN
Helen, Amy, and Jane are on
their third container of ice cream (“Praline Fudge Overbloat
Ribbon”) at the kitchen table. An empty bottle of crème de menthe and several
small shot glasses also litter the table.
JANE: Yeah, okay, so Tom hasn’t
really cheated on me with Daria, and she’s not really trying to jump his bones
every chance she gets. Maybe I’m a little paranoid. [under
her breath] Not.
HELEN: He’ll do it.
AMY: Men are all alike.
HELEN: Jake did it. I think. He
might have. He had the chance, so he’s guilty.
AMY: You did it! You
kissed your art teacher!
HELEN: That doesn’t count. It
was just a kiss.
AMY: Depends on how much of your
tongue he choked on.
HELEN: Oh, and I suppose you
haven’t swapped spit with anyone!
AMY: Doesn’t count.
HELEN: Doesn’t count? Why?
AMY: It was with a girl.
HELEN: Oh. [shrugs,
peers into empty ice cream container] We’re out again. Damn it.
JANE: Tom’s gonna
do it. He and Daria are dying to buff the bedsheets.
I just know it.
HELEN: [gets up, looks in
freezer for more ice cream] Dear, there is something you can do to
prevent that.
HELEN: [gets container of ice
cream and brings it to the table] That might be
illegal in this state. I’ll check. But you could do what Jake and I did.
AMY: Get divorced? Jane’s not
even married yet!
HELEN: No. We had a special
thing we did that kept the excitement in our marriage, until Jake got tired of
wearing the eye patch and the fake parrot. Still, it worked wonders for us for
over twenty years.
JANE: He dressed up as Moshe
Dayan?
HELEN: Long John Silver, Jane. [blushes] We pretended he was a pirate captain and I was an
innocent maiden.
AMY: Jake as a pirate is a bit
of a stretch, but not as much as that other part.
HELEN: He would tie me up and
ravish me, or pretend to ravish me when his Viagra ran out, and that kept the
magic in our marriage. [pounds table] If only we could
have found a stuffed parrot that wouldn’t keep falling off his shoulder and
hitting me in the ass! And he wanted me to wear a thong, but I wouldn’t do it
because it hurt my toes.
JANE: [thoughtful] Hmmm.
AMY: [thoughtful] Hmmm.
11. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME, MORGENDORFFER HOME, QUINN’S BEDROOM
Daria and Quinn (wearing
glasses) sit at Quinn’s hot pink i-Mac computer.
QUINN: See, here’s how it would
work. We print off these “secret admirer” notes I got off the Internet, and we
put them where Mom and Dad can find them, and they’ll each think they’ve got a
secret admirer, and they go to the secret meeting place and find—tah dah!—each other! And we’ll do
the same for Amy and Joel! It can’t fail!
DARIA: [squints at computer] “hi
i saw u thru yur bedrum windo an
u r hottr then brittanni speers xcpt she has biggr boobz. I want 2 c u tonit n the park at midnihgt. war a thong! luv,
jeffy. ps
joey an jamie r 2 stupid 4
u.”
QUINN: Yeah, he thinks he can
win me back with romance, but I’ve got standards now!
DARIA: [squints at computer] The one from Jamie is just a picture of his—wow.
QUINN: It’s not his. Trust me,
it’s not.
DARIA: I don’t want to hear
about it. Oh, how sweet—Joey sent you a poem. “Roses are red, violets are blue,
if you don’t go out with me, I’ll kill the Math Club
so I can have you.”
QUINN: I think he copied it from
somewhere. The spelling’s too good.
DARIA: You’re going to turn
these into secret admirer notes?
QUINN: Jamie’s picture will go
with the first one. I’ll change “Math Club” to something else in the second and
add the note about the park at midnight. Oh, Daria! This is so exciting!
DARIA: My bowels are churning
with anticipation.
QUINN: I always knew I had a
special talent for matchmaking.
DARIA: I thought you weren’t
allowed to play with those.
QUINN: You wait and see, Daria.
Maybe I can even hook you up with a guy!
DARIA: Thanks, but your offer is
respectfully refused. I’ve looked around and decided to marry myself.
QUINN: Your wedding night should
be interesting. I worry about your kids, though.
12. INT: EARLY AFTERNOON,
Tom Sloane walks over to answer
the front door as the doorbell rings. He opens the door to reveal
TOM: Uh, hi. I thought you
weren’t coming over until later tonight. “Seven” doesn’t start until eight.
JANE: I kinda
wanted to get in the mood first.
TOM: For a serial-killer movie?
JANE: For the refreshments
afterward. [winks]
TOM: Oh. Oh! Sure, come
in!
JANE: I brought a little
something to help out. Props.
TOM: Props? Uh, you mean like,
uh—
JANE: Role-playing.
TOM: [groans] Not Dungeons and
Dragons again, please. You know I can’t stand—
JANE: I’m thinking of something
less geeky, maybe a little . . . dirtier.
TOM: [quickly] The bedroom’s right this way. [leads
Jane upstairs] I still have that Greystar condom, too! Still in its gold pack!
JANE: [follows Tom upstairs,
looking at his tush, under her breath in deep voice] That’s not the treasure I’m after, me hearty. Arrr, now!
13. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME, LAWNDALE HOOTERS
RESTAURANT, MAIN DINING ROOM
Joel and his infant son sit in
HOOTERS GIRL: Goodness! Let me
get that for you, honey!
The Hooters Girl bends down to
pick up the bottle, giving the baby a generous view down her low-cut cleavage.
The baby is all eyes with astonishment.
HOOTERS GIRL: Here you go,
sweetie! [returns bottle and kisses baby,
inadvertently putting her breasts up to his face] Bye bye!
The Hooters Girl leaves. The
baby is shocked—but then smiles. Joel pays no attention to this, still reading
his menu. Another waitress walks past, and the baby again drops his bottle—deliberately,
this time.
ANDREA, THE SECOND HOOTERS GIRL:
Oh, no! I’ll get that, little guy!
Andrea, the Second Hooters Girl,
bends down to pick up the bottle, giving the baby yet another generous view of
Mammary Wonderland.
JOEL: [without looking up from
menu] Hi, Andrea. What’s good tonight?
ANDREA, THE SECOND HOOTERS GIRL:
[hands bottle to baby] Hi, Joel. The wings are pretty good. I think some of
them are from chickens this time. [to baby] Here you
go, sweetie-pie! [kisses baby, bumping her bosom into
his face, then leaves]
JOEL: [to baby] I dunno, Little Dude. What looks good to you?
A third waitress walks past, and
the baby again drops his bottle on the floor.
THIRD HOOTERS GIRL: Oopsie! I’ll get it, darlin’! [bends over to get the bottle]
The baby grins broadly, happy as
a clam. Drool runs down his chin onto his bib.
14. EXT: ABOUT THIS TIME, PARKING LOT OUTSIDE THE
LAWNDALE HOOTERS RESTAURANT
Daria and Quinn drive up in
Helen’s SUV and stop outside the restaurant. Quinn is driving.
QUINN: Amy said Joel eats lunch
here sometimes. Oh! There he is, with Prince Poopalot!
DARIA: Amy’s got to pick a name
for that kid, and soon.
QUINN: Don’t rush her. [opens SUV door] Wait for me in the car. I’ll be right back
after I deliver his “secret admirer” note.
DARIA: Quinn! Joel will see you!
And someone will see me!
QUINN: Daria, we’re at Hooters!
No one is going to look at you.
DARIA: [glares] I feel so
much better now.
QUINN: And Joel will never see
me anyway. I’ll have a waitress deliver the message.
15. INT: MOMENTS LATER, ENTRYWAY OF LAWNDALE
HOOTERS RESTAURANT
Brittany Taylor, in full Hooters
regalia, is working the reception desk. She grins and waves at Quinn when she
comes in.
QUINN: I’m just here to deliver
a message. [hands envelope to
QUINN: Thanks! See you at eight!
Quinn leaves.
16. INT: MOMENTS LATER, LAWNDALE HOOTERS
RESTAURANT, MAIN DINING ROOM
JOEL: [looking at menu] Hi,
JOEL: Oh. Thought it was a
misprint.
JOEL: [nods, still looking at
menu] Hmmm. I’ll think about it. [glances at her] Oh,
by the way, nice thong.
JOEL: [nods absently] No
problem. He’s probably bored. The trip’ll do him
good.
Jake Morgendorffer looks up from
his steak and oysters, an open bottle of Jack Daniels by his plate. Monique and
Alison sit at his side, wearing in tiny string bikinis and drinking Duff beers.
JAKE: [cheery] Thanks,
JAKE: I’ll try, but I’ve got a
long, hard night of overtime ahead!
Monique, Alison, and Brittany
burst into laughter.
JAKE: No, thanks. [glances at Monique and Alison] I’ve already got one!
Everyone laughs again.
17. EXT: ABOUT THIS TIME, PARKING LOT OUTSIDE THE
LAWNDALE HOOTERS RESTAURANT
Looking upset, Daria still sits
in the SUV, waiting for Quinn.
DARIA: Quinn was right. No one’s
so much as peeked at me. Crap.
Quinn comes out of the
restaurant and gets back into the SUV.
DARIA: Congratulations, Double-O
Seven.
QUINN: You’re giving me a number
and taking away my name? Is that some kind of math crack?
DARIA: No, you’re the . . . oh,
forget it.
QUINN: Gosh, this is the best
plan I’ve ever had! I should work for the government!
DARIA: [takes off her glasses
and rubs her eyes] That was a better put-down than
anything I could possibly have dreamed up.
QUINN: We’d better hurry. I have
a date tonight.
DARIA: [puts glasses back on] As
usual. Who’s the lucky guy this time?
QUINN: Oh, I never know their
names, maybe fifteen or twenty guys if—[stops, realizing what she’s said]—I
mean, Jeffy.
Daria turns to stare at Quinn
with huge eyes and open mouth. Quinn looks mortified.
18. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME,
MORGENDORFFERS’ HOME, LIVING ROOM
Amy Barksdale sits on the sofa,
watching the big-screen TV.
TV ANNOUNCER: In this
afternoon’s news, Ryan O’Neill and Meg Ryan, fresh from a remake of “Ryan’s
Daughter,” were on their way to
AMY: That would be a good name
for the baby. Dan.
Amy tries to figure out the TV’s
remote settings, but finally throws the remote aside and gets up to walk over
to the TV herself to work the controls. As she does, she looks down at the
round coffee table before her and stops. On the table is an envelope marked
“AMY.” She opens the envelope and pulls out a laser-printed letter. A small,
colorful piece of paper falls from the envelope as she does.
AMY: [reading letter] “hi i saw u thru yur bedrum windo an
u r hottr then brittanni speers xcpt she has smaler boobz. I want 2 c u tonit n the park at midnihgt. war a thong! luv,
yur secrit admrirrirerer. ps
jole r 2 stupid 4 u.” A secret
admirer? Wow!
Amy sees the piece of paper on
the floor and bends down to pick it up. She looks at the paper, which appears
to be a color photo from a computer printer—then starts violently. Her eyes
open wide and her mouth drops open.
AMY: Oh, my God! He’s a mutant!
[looks at letter again] I’d better get showered and
put on my thong! [hurries off to her bedroom and shuts
the door]
19. EXT: LATER THAT AFTERNOON, PARKING LOT BESIDE
JAKE MORGENDORFFERS’ APARTMENT DOOR
Daria and Quinn drive up in
Helen’s SUV and park next to Jake’s first-floor apartment. They are in the
middle of a heated talk.
QUINN: [turns off ignition]
Daria, look—it’s not what you think! I just have a secret job as a Hooters
waitress to get some extra cash. I’m not—not whatever literary kind of thing
you were thinking!
DARIA: I can’t imagine which is
worse, what I was thinking or what the reality turned out to be. Just tell me
one thing.
QUINN: And the answer is: No! I
never have, and I never will! I don’t even slow dance until the fifth date, and
the customers have all been perfect gentlemen, except for the ones who tip only
ten percent. I hope they rot.
DARIA: My question was, how’s
the pay?
QUINN: Forget it. They’ll never
take you.
DARIA: [glares] Do J, J, and J
know about this?
QUINN: I’ll give you fifty to
shut up.
DARIA: A hundred.
QUINN: [reaches in purse, grabs
handful of money, throws it at Daria’s feet] There
goes an hour’s worth of tips. Don’t press your luck.
DARIA: [collecting cash] What I don’t get is, how can you square this with your new
brain persona?
QUINN: Daria, was Einstein a
millionaire?
DARIA: No.
QUINN: Well, I’m not making his
mistake.
Quinn gets out of the SUV with
an envelope in her hand, walks to Jake’s door, and puts the envelope in the
crack between the door and the doorframe.
DARIA: [sitting in SUV,
frowning] I’m having difficulty refuting her point. Damn it.
Daria takes off her glasses,
looks in the driver’s rear-view mirror, and tries a vacant smile with blinking
eyes.
DARIA: [forced perky voice] Hi!
I’m Daria! Welcome to Hooters! [looks disgusted and
puts glasses back on.] I should have my head examined for ferret nests.
Quinn hurries back to the car,
gets in, and starts it.
QUINN: We’d better get to Mom’s
office and deliver her envelope before she gets back from her lunch break.
DARIA: We could fax it to her
from one of those business services places, like Mailboxes Ad Nauseum or Kinky’s.
QUINN: [driving off] You’re right! Now you’re starting to think like me!
Daria goes wide-eyed with shock,
then grits her teeth and begins banging her head against her side window as
hard as she can.
About five seconds after Daria
and Quinn depart, Helen Morgendorffer can be seen
creeping around the side of the apartment building, dressed in her usual legal
outfit. She stays out of the way of windows, hiding behind bushes and shrubs,
until she is close to the apartment door. She spies the envelope stuck in the
door and sneaks over to get it, trying to look nonchalant while watching out to
make sure she is not seen. She snatches the envelope and rushes back into the
bushes, where she tears the envelope open and reads its contents.
HELEN: [quotes from letter]
“Roses are red, violets are blue, if you don’t go out with me, I’ll put your
name on every spam mailing list in existence. Oops—pretend that this letter
rhymed or something. Whatever. Signed, Your Secret Admirer. P.S. Meet me in the park at midnight. I
will wear a thong so you will know who I am, but don’t expect me to wear it a
second time, because they’re not very hygienic, even if some of them can be
considered fashionable in an extreme sense.”
Helen crumples up the letter in
a rage.
HELEN: He is seeing
someone else! So, he thinks he can run around and cheat on me just because
we’re divorced? We’ll see about that, Long Thong Silver! [rushes
off to a nearby company car and drives away]
20. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME, LAWNDALE HOOTERS
RESTAURANT, MAIN DINING ROOM
Jake Morgendorffer has finished
his early dinner, and he and the bikini-clad Monique and Alison leave, arm in
arm—almost, as Jake’s hands are on the posteriors of Monique and Alison. We
look back at their vacated table and see that the envelope
JEFFY: Hemlock.
JOEY:
JAMIE: The blood of everyone in
the Math Club except Quinn.
The three Js don’t even bother
to look at the menus.
JOEY: I can’t believe Quinn
dumped us for a bunch of dorks with pocket protectors.
JAMIE: There is no justice.
JEFFY: I feel like Job, right
after the whale swallowed him.
JAMIE: That was Moses, dope.
JOEY: No, it was Sinbad! Jeez,
are you ever stupid!
Jamie looks down and sees the
envelope that Jake Morgendorffer dropped. He idly picks it up and opens it.
JEFFY: Sinbad was the one that
went to the archery contest and beat King Lear or somebody.
JOEY: That was William
Shakespeare.
JEFFY: He didn’t have anything
to do with archery, man!
JOEY: He shot that apple off his
son’s head, right?
JAMIE: [clutching letter] Whoa!
I can’t believe this!
All three crowd around the
letter.
JAMIE: [reading] “Roses are red,
violets are blue, if you don’t go out with me tonight
at midnight in the park, then something something something rhymes with ‘blue.’ Remember to finish this poem
before delivering it to J.”
JOEY: [grabs letter] That’s typed in Quinn’s favorite font with her hot-purple
ink cartridge on her lavender stationery! That’s for me!
JAMIE: [grabs letter back] No,
it’s for me! I’m the J!
JEFFY: [grabs letter for
himself] No, me!
All three Js tear the letter
apart, then rush out of the restaurant at full speed,
pushing and shoving each other. Moments later, platinum-blonde Lindy appears in
a string bikini, clutching a half-empty bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Wine.
She rushes over to the table that the three Js just vacated.
LINDY: Oh, rats! I just
missed him! [looks around restaurant, yells] Jake?
Jake! I’m here now! Where are you?
21. INT: LATE THAT NIGHT, AT 11:55 P.M.,
MORGENDORFFERS’ HOME, DARIA’S BEDROOM
Daria sits at her desk, checking
her computer monitor for her e-mail. A digital clock gives the time.
DARIA: Do I want to refinance my
home mortgage loan? No. Do I want to meet friendly Russian women for marriage?
No. Do I want to fix my septic tank? No. Do I want to get the dirt on my
neighbors? I’ve already ordered that. Do I want to see hot Asian teens? No. Do
I want more pills, a new diet, a new credit card, a cable descrambler, or a way
to make thousands of dollars at home stuffing envelopes? No. [sits back] This sucks. Damn Al Gore anyway for inventing
this piece of—
A knock sounds at her door.
DARIA: Go away!
QUINN: [opens the door and comes
in] Thanks! Isn’t it great, Daria? In just five more minutes, Mom and Dad will
find each other, and Aunt Amy and Uncle Joel will find each other, and they’ll
live happier ever after, just like in “Romeo and Juliet”!
DARIA: I know that’s not what
you meant to say, but I’m actually afraid you got it right.
QUINN: Oh, give me some credit,
okay? You’ll thank me when this is over.
DARIA: Assuming that
civilization as we know it still exists. Look, I was going to ask you, where in
the park are they supposed to meet?
QUINN: Um, you know, in the, uh,
park. Just in the park.
DARIA: But where are Mom and Dad
supposed to meet? You didn’t make it the same place as where Amy and Joel are
supposed to meet, right?
QUINN: Uh . . . uh, you know, I
hadn’t thought about that. I mean, Village Green isn’t that big, right? I
thought . . . well, they should be able to . . . um . . .
Daria closes her eyes and
groans, putting a hand to her forehead as if she has a migraine.
QUINN: Oh, stop it! I’m sure
it’ll work out! What could possibly go wrong?
DARIA: [opens eyes] They said that at
QUINN: Which high school was
that?
DARIA: If we’re suddenly
orphaned tonight, I’m fighting you for the house.
22. EXT: ABOUT THIS TIME,
A dark blue sedan slowly cruises
the streets around Village Green.
JANE: [calls out window] Tom?
Tom, are you hiding from me? Come on, it was just a little role-playing! It was
fun, wasn’t it? I won’t use the whip any more if you come back, okay? Tom? Tom!
Damn it.
Jane sighs and accelerates away
from the park. After a moment, some bushes in the park near the central statue
rustle, and Tom Sloane peeks out in great fear. He appears naked except for a
black thong and a pirate flag he has partially wrapped around himself; broken
handcuffs dangle from his wrists as well. He appears a bit worse for the wear,
scratched up as if he’d run through a patch of briars. Hearing a sound
approaching, Tom immediately hides in the bushes again.
After a moment, Amy Barksdale
appears, walking toward the city park wearing a long, dark raincoat. She wears
her glasses, but as she approaches the park, she takes her glasses off and puts
them in her raincoat pocket. She takes out a pocket cosmetic mirror, opens it
to check herself, then shuts it and walks into the park itself, looking around
her.
AMY: [soft voice] Hello? Hello?
Anyone here wanna play “pirate”? Is there anyone
around who sent me a secret admirer note with a take-me-now passport attached
to it? Hmmm. This is the only park in
After a moment, Jeffy, Joey, and
Jamie wander into view. They appear to have been fighting, as all are severely
battered, bruised, and scratched, but they are now cooperating to search the
park as they walk through it.
JEFFY: [loud whisper] I don’t
see her, man.
JAMIE: [loud whisper] She’s
here. I know she is. Quinn wouldn’t lie.
JOEY: [loud whisper] But it’s
really dark, you know. I can barely see my face in front of my hand!
JAMIE: [loud whisper] Shhh! [points to bush where Amy went] Something
moved over there!
JEFFY: [grabs both Joey and
Jamie, loud whisper] Okay, remember what we agreed on? All three of us are
going to talk to Quinn and find out which one of us she’s going to choose, once
and for—
At this moment, Amy’s raincoat
flies over the bush and lands on the ground near the three Js. They jump,
startled, and stare at it. After another moment, Amy’s blouse flies over the
bush to land by the coat, then her skirt, her shoes and stockings, and her bra.
The three Js stare at the clothing, then at the bush.
AMY: [VO, soft whisper] Oops!
I’ve lost my clothes! I hope the pirates don’t find me!
The three Js appear stupefied.
JOEY: [pointing at bushes] Was that Quinn?
JAMIE: [stares at bushes] Kinda sounded like her.
AMY: [VO, soft whisper] All I’ve
got on for protection from the pirates is my thong!
JOEY AND JAMIE: [gasp] That is Quinn!
JEFFY: [to the other Js, loud
whisper] Hey, do you think we should call the police about the pirates? They
could be—
Joey
and Jamie clamp their hands over Jeffy’s mouth. All
stand perfectly still.
JOEY: [clears throat, rough
voice addressed toward bush] Arrr, now, matey! I reckon this here jungle be a good spot to go a-huntin’!
JAMIE: Arrr,
I reckon ye be right, me hearty! I reckon this here place be a good spot fer some pirate sport, yo ho ho!
TOM: [VO, soft whisper from
bush] Damn it! Not this!
JEFFY: Uh, yeah, I guess—
Joey and Jamie punch him in the
arms.
JEFFY: Ow!
Oh, um, I meant, arrr, there be buckets o’ blood
spilled tonight if—
Joey and Jamie punch Jeffy
again, harder.
JEFFY: Ouch! Okay! Uh, arrr! Arrr, let’s be off a-huntin’ fer wenches, mates!
TOM: [VO, soft panicked whisper
from bush] Oh, no. No way, not this. Oh, man, I gotta
get out of—
JOEY: [tiptoeing toward Amy’s
hiding bush] Avast! I wonder if there be . . . female
treasure a-hiding here!
JAMIE: [moving up with Joey]
Aye! If there be, it’s about to be boarded, it be!
JEFFY: Um, yo,
Captain Hook and Captain Hook Two, what’ll we do with,
um, you know, if we, uh, catch her?
Joey and Jamie look at Jeffy
with pained expressions.
JAMIE: [whispers] We’ll do anything she wants us to do, period. Anything. Got it?
JOEY: [whispers] Like, duh!
JEFFY: [blinks in shock] Oh.
Okay.
AMY: [VO, in bushes] Oh, no! I fear
I’ve been discovered!
At a signal, all three Js rush
the bush where Amy is hiding. After much rustling around, there are three
sudden, distinct gasps in masculine voices.
AMY: [VO] Uh . . . three of you?
What the hell. [loud whisper] Oh, no! The pirates have
caught me, and all I have on is this thong! [pause]
Does it make my butt look too big?
JOEY, JEFFY, AND JAMIE: [VO] No!
Not at all! You look great!
AMY: [VO, relieved] Good! Oh,
and what are you going to do with me, you sea dogs?
JOEY: [VO] Arrr,
now, me pretty! And what d’ye think ruffians such as we should do with the likes
of ye?
AMY: [VO] That’s
pretty good.
JOEY: [VO] Thanks.
AMY: [VO] Oh! I fear that all I
have left to ransom my safety from you cutthroats is . . . my body!
Stunned silence for a moment,
then—
JOEY, JEFFY, AND JAMIE: [VO]
ARRRRRR!!!
The bushes rustle with
combinations of piratical calls like “Time t’ be keel-hauled!” and “Prepare fer boardin’!” mixed with Amy’s
cries of “Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh . . . oh,
you’re not the one in the photo, are you?”
As this goes on with increasing
intensity, Tom Sloane slowly comes out of his hiding bushes, clutching the
pirate flag around him. He starts to run for it—but a shadowy shape sudden
darts into the park from the sidewalk and jumps on him. Startled, he falls
backward into the bushes again, the shadowy shape falling into the bushes with
him.
TOM: [VO] Augh!
[voice cut off suddenly]
HELEN: [VO] So,
you think you can just ignore me as if I was a total stranger? All this time
we’ve known each other, and you think you can just take up with any woman you
please, ignorant of the pleasures you could have had with me?
TOM: [VO] Mmrph!
Grmph! Rrrghmmph!
HELEN: [VO] Stop struggling!
I’ve been working out since you left me, and I’m a lot stronger than you now! I
want you to see what you gave up when you ran off with that wench, whoever she
is! Gimme your hands! Feel these? Feel how luscious
and ripe they are, ready for picking? Is this the kind of body you can just run
off and ignore whenever you feel like it? Is this a body you can toss away like
two-week-old lasagna? [sound of clothing tearing] Look
at me now! [sound of more clothing tearing] And look
at you! We were made for each other! Look at how we . . . we . . . uh-oh.
TOM: [VO] Mrs. Morgendorffer?
HELEN: [VO] Oh, my God!
TOM: [VO] What the hell are you
doing?
HELEN: [VO] I . . . I . . .
thought you were . . . um . . .
TOM: [VO] And I thought . . . uh
. . . Mrs. Morgendor—
HELEN: [VO] Shhh.
[pause] Helen.
A silence begins, broken only by
rustling noises coming from the bush where Amy and the three Js are, um,
occupied. Very quickly, rustling noises begin coming from the bush where Tom
and Helen are hiding as well. The noises in both places grow in intensity,
mixed with cries of “Avast!” and “Yo,
ho, ho!” and “Mmmph!”
While this goes on,
yet another shadowy form can be seen walking into the park. It's Eric
Schrecter, Helen's boss, apparently having come directly here from his legal
office. His tie is loose, his shirt unbuttoned, and his face sweaty. He holds a
fax machine page in his hand, trying to read it and look around at the same
time. When he walks, he appears uncomfortable, as if his underwear were riding up
on him.
ERIC: Hey, is there anyone here looking for someone in a thong? Anyone? This fax says I was supposed to come here wearing a
thong, and . . . huh. Maybe this was for tomorrow night. Or
last night. Damn it! [walks away as bushes
vibrate with extreme intensity]
23. INT: ABOUT THIS TIME,
MORGENDORFFERS’ HOME, FRONT HALL
Daria and Quinn hurry to the
front door to answer a knocking there. They open the door—and discover Joel,
holding the baby. The baby is sound asleep and covered with drool. His bottle
is nowhere in sight.
JOEL: Hey, girls. Is Amy here?
Daria and Quinn blink at Joel in
astonishment.
QUINN: Why aren’t you in the
park?
JOEL: What park?
QUINN: The park,
like the message said?
JOEL: What message?
DARIA: [looks behind Joel at the
street] Is that Dad’s car pulling away, with him
waving?
JOEL: Yeah. Your dad gave me a
lift here. He came by the restaurant to find someone named Lindy, and he picked
me up, too. I wanted to come by and make up with Amy, you know.
Daria and Quinn look at each
other with white faces, then at Joel.
DARIA: Why wasn’t Dad at the
park?
JOEL: I dunno.
He said he was heading for the airport. Something about being
late for a meeting of the Mile-High Club with Lindy, or something. He’s
sure one busy fella.
QUINN: So, he didn’t get a
message, and you didn’t get a message?
JOEL: No. Got
some wings at Hooters, though. They were pretty good. I think they were
chicken, too.
Daria leaves the front door and
slowly walks upstairs.
DARIA: [calls as she goes]
24. INT: THE NEXT MORNING,
MORGENDORFFERS’ HOME, KITCHEN
Daria, wearing a “Much Ado About Nothing” nightshirt and short pants, wanders barefoot
into the kitchen in the middle of a huge yawn. She opens her eyes—and jerks to
a halt, staring at the kitchen table. Helen Morgendorffer and Amy Barksdale sit
at opposite ends of the table; Jeffy, Joey, and Jamie surround Amy, and Tom
Sloane sits by Helen’s side. All drink coffee or milk and eat doughnuts from a
huge box labeled “Krispy Grease.” Everyone wears
assorted mismatched clothing, mostly baggy sweat suits that appear to belong to
Helen or Amy. Leaves and sticks are visible in their matted hair.
DARIA: [wide-eyed] Okay, which
one of you is the Dormouse?
HELEN: [strained cheeriness]
Hello, dear! Why don’t you join us?
TOM: We saved a cruller for you.
AMY: With sprinkles.
Amy’s comment causes Jeffy,
Joey, and Jamie to break into snickers at a private joke.
DARIA: Tom? What are you doing
here with Moe, Larry, and Curly?
TOM: Oh, I’m just . . . um . . .
JOEY: Yeah, you know, um . . .
JEFFY: We’re kind of like . . .
JAMIE: Yeah.
HELEN: [puts down her chocolate
éclair and stands up] Daria, I may as well come out with it. Tom . . . what I
mean to say is that, Tom and I, we . . . [sits down] . . . saved a cruller for
you.
TOM: With sprinkles.
Jeffy, Joey, and Jamie again
catch the giggles.
AMY: [glares at the three Js] Knock it off.
DARIA: [eyeing everyone
carefully] Before this delightful talk proceeds any further, I need to go to
the pharmacy and pick up an exceptionally strong major tranquilizer, unless I
can use that sledgehammer in the garage to solve the problem.
HELEN: Oh, Daria, don’t hurt
yourself!
DARIA: I wasn’t going to hurt me.
Footsteps are heard. Quinn (with
glasses) walks into the kitchen, dressed in a Marie Curie glow-in-the-dark
nightshirt and electric yellow shorts.
QUINN: ‘Morning! How is—[sees
three Js, recoils]—AAAAH!!! What the hell are you guys doing here?
JEFFY:
We just went through that.
JOEY: I don’t remember my part
now! What do I say?
AMY: [finishes coffee and stands
up] Don’t worry, dear. I’m going to wake up Joel and
the baby, and then we’ll go home. I think our house is big enough for six, if
we rearrange the furniture a bit.
QUINN: [initially delighted] Oh,
then it worked! I knew it would wor—[confused]—for
six? For six?
AMY: It was good seeing you
girls. Good-bye, Helen. Good luck. [to three Js] Let’s
shove off, me buckos.
Jeffy, Joey, and Jamie grab
their last doughnuts, stand up, and follow Amy out of the kitchen. They are
happily fixated on Amy and barely glance at Quinn as they go.
JEFFY: Bye!
JOEY: Have fun!
JAMIE: See you somewhere next
week or something!
Quinn stares wide-eyed after Amy
and the three Js. Shocked, Daria watches them go, too.
DARIA: [turns to Helen and Tom] Anything else I should know before I make an emergency
appointment with the school psychiatrist today?
HELEN: [nervously playing with
her éclair and getting chocolate all over her fingers] Well, dear, you know
your father and I are divorced, so as a result we’re not living together, and
we’re not seeing each other, which means, you know, we’re free to see other
people when we want, and—are you sure you don’t want a cruller?
DARIA: [steps back] Mom, you’re
telling me that . . . you . . . you and Tom . . . you . . .
HELEN: Uh . . . yes.
TOM: We were hoping you and
Quinn would be the bridesmaids.
Quinn emits a strangled gasp.
Her eyes roll up into her head, and she crashes to the floor.
DARIA: [stares popeyed at her
mother and Tom] You—
HELEN: We’re not doing anything
fancy, of course, just a justice of the peace and then off to the
TOM: [puts a hand on Helen’s
arm] It’s time for a vacation, Helen. You’ve earned it. I’ll use my college
fund. My Uncle Bob will give me another one for Christmas.
HELEN: [smiles, to Tom] Why, thank you, dear!
Helen and Tom kiss, then Tom
takes Helen’s hands and begins licking the chocolate off Helen’s fingers.
Daria backs up, staring in
horror, and bumps into Quinn. She looks down briefly at her unconscious sister.
DARIA: [to Quinn]
Congratulations, Einstein.
Daria flees the kitchen as Helen
and Tom become more amorous.
HELEN: Oh. Oh! Oh, quick, let’s
go in the living room and put Barry White! I’m in the moooooood!
25. EXT: A
SHORT WHILE LATER, OUTSIDE THE MORGENDORFFERS’ HOME
Daria, dressed for school and
with her backpack, walks out the front door.
JANE: Hey! What’s up? What’s
going on? How you doing?
DARIA: My mother’s running off
with your boyfriend. Other than that—
JANE: [stops, wide-eyed] What?
DARIA: Here’s the short form: My
mother and Tom are getting married and flying to the
Jane’s shocked look fades. She
shrugs and starts walking toward school with Daria again.
JANE: Well, c’est
la vive. I thought something was going on last night when Tom unexpectedly
ran off on me. Just got up and left. No reason at all.
DARIA: It was the whip, wasn’t
it?
JANE: [stamps her foot] I knew
it was too soon in the relationship.
DARIA: Men.
JANE: Parents.
DARIA: Siblings.
JANE:
DARIA: Fanfic writers.
JANE: Exactly. [looks down sidewalk] Speaking of which . . .
A
female
KRISTEN: Oh, Pogo! You’re the
dreamiest! [skips past]
GIANT POSSUM: [which sounds
remarkably like Upchuck] Rrrowrrr!
JANE: [watches them leave] Hmmm.
Why am I thinking of Kevin and Brittany?
DARIA: Suddenly, I feel a
pressing need to think of our future. After school, you wanna
help me look up some colleges in
JANE: That isn’t far enough away
from here, but it’ll have to do.
DARIA: Right after pizza.
JANE:
Done, amiga.
Daria
and Jane wander away toward school. After a pause, Quinn
dashes out of the house with her books, running madly after them, screaming.
QUINN: Daria! Don’t leave me
here! They’re eating chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice cream off each other! Daria!
BONUS
DRAMATIC SCENE!
26.
INT: THAT NIGHT, AMY AND JOEL’S HOME, LIVING ROOM
Joel sits on the sofa, watching
a football game on a big-screen TV set. The living room is covered with bits of
used clothing, all belonging to Joel. Joel wears a Howard Stern T-shirt, Scooby-Doo
boxers, and filthy white athletic socks with holes in them, and he is drinking
a Duff beer. A commercial comes on the TV at halftime.
TV ANNOUNCER: [dull monotone]
Hi. My name is Luhrman. I’m the president and CEO of
Hooters Family Restaurants. Starting tomorrow, Hooters will offer a free lap
dance and a thong with each purchase of our Macho Nachos and Hot Wings combo.
Bring the family for a great time at a great place to eat. Food, I mean. Whatever.
JOEL: Eh. I’ll stick with the
American Burger.
TV
ANNOUNCER: [Luhrman] And let
me introduce the newest member of the happy Hooters’ family—Miss Daria
Morgendorffer.
TV DARIA: Hi! I’m Daria! Welcome
to . . . welcome to . . . to . . . JANE! How the HELL did you talk me into
this? JANE! JANE, I’M GOING TO KI—
The bedroom door opens behind
Joel. Amy walks out, tying up the belt on her bathrobe, which appears to be her
only apparel. She walks over and kisses Joel on top of his head.
AMY: I forgive you for saying
that my butt was big.
JOEL: [watches TV] Okay.
AMY: Do it again, and you’ll
sleep in the trash compactor.
JOEL: [watches TV] That’s fair.
Behind the two, Jeffy, Joey, and
Jamie stumble out of the bedroom, wearing pirate costumes in complete disarray.
Totally exhausted and bleary-eyed, they make their way to the sofa and collapse
on the cushions next to Joel.
JEFFY: [watching TV now] Hey.
JOEY: [also watching TV] Hey.
JAMIE: [watches TV] Hey.
JOEL: [watches TV] Hey. Thanks a
lot for helping Amy out with her new play. How was the rehearsal?
JEFFY: [watches TV] Incredible.
JOEY: [watches TV] Awesome.
JAMIE: [watches TV] There’s
probably a French word for it.
AMY: Thanks, guys, but I think
we need to work on that desert island scene a little more. Practice makes
perfect! Let’s take a break and have another rehearsal in an hour, okay?
JEFFY, JOEY, AND JAMIE: [nod
quickly, still watching TV] Yeah. Cool. Excellent.
JOEL: [watches TV] I think it’s
great you’ve decided to become a playwright, Amy. You have so many talents and
so much energy, I can hardly keep up with you!
JAMIE: [watches TV] Word.
JOEY: [watches TV] What he said.
JEFFY: [watches TV] You have no idea, dude.
A knock sounds at the door. Amy
walks over and opens it, revealing a cheerful Brittany Taylor in her Hooters
outfit. She holds Amy’s infant son, who snores soundly with his face buried
between
AMY: [takes groggy baby, who is
starting to wake up] Thanks,
JOEL, JOEY, JEFFY, AND JAMIE:
[watch TV] Hi,
JOEL, JOEY, JEFFY, AND JAMIE:
[watch TV] Thanks,
AMY: Remember to bring back the
free thongs. Mine are in the laundry now.
AMY: Thanks! [puts
AMY: Now, now . . . um . . .
what was it . . . Dan! Dan, Mommy’s here with dinner, all for you! Which
one do you want to start with?
Amy opens up her bathrobe and
reveals two perky—but comparatively small—breasts. The baby stares for a
moment, then rubs his eyes and looks again at Amy’s breasts with a mixture of
shock, disappointment, and horror. He then looks around the room in a panic. He
sees the TV set, which shows a picture of a Hooters girl waving at the TV
audience in a commercial, and he holds out his arms to her in desperation.
BABY: [reaching for TV] Unh!
Unh! Unh!
AMY: Joel! Dan’s starting to
talk!
JOEL: [watches TV] Who?
AMY: Dan, you dope! The baby!
He’s starting to talk!
JOEL: [watches TV] Cool.
AMY: [to baby] Say it! Say
“Mommy”! Starts with Mmmmmmmm—
BABY: [reaching for TV] Unh! Uhh-buh! Buh! Buuuuuoooobs!
AMY: WHAAAT?
BABY: [reaching for TV] Boobs!
Boobs! Boooooooobs! [bursts
into tears]
Fade
out, just in time.
Original:
07/31/03; revised 08/04/03, 09/04/06, 09/23/06, 04/01/09
FINIS
