[No theme song opening. Fade in on an empty set of the Morgendorffer living
room. Enter Tom.]
TOM: Hello. Greetings. Howdy. Wuzzup? You know me as Tom, AKA that jerk who
     tore Jane away from Jesse. [Pause with a face. Then back to normal] I
     have made an appearance in about perhaps three fanfictions so far, so
     it seemed obvious that I should host, being that no one would bother to
     interview me.

     Tonight... or morning or afternoon or whenever the hell you're reading
     this... we shall take a look behind the scenes of Daria fanfiction.
     Interviews with the stars and authors, and some never-before-seen
     footage of your favorites. Maybe even a blooper or two.

     Welcome to "Behind the Glasses."

[Title. The short theme song sounds like the commercial bumpers for Daria
Days.]

[Clips from various Dariafics display as Tom voice-overs.]
TOM: We all know the show... Why would you be reading this if you didn't?
     However, fanfiction turns out to be a whole new bag.

[Cut to Daria and Jane in director's chairs (like most any character will be
when they're interviewed).]
JANE: We do our own stunts, so to speak.
DARIA: Every episode and every fan-written work.
JANE: It's hectic, y'know, but, hey, we're cartoons. We can do whatever.
DARIA: Yes, we even star in the bad-bad-really-bad ones, which shall remain
       nameless. The execs at MTV think fanfiction is great advertising.
       We're stuck. 
JANE: Wait, "The Movie." That was the only one where we didn't play
      ourselves.
DARIA: Oh, yeah. Thank goodness.

[DeMartino]
DeMARTINO: Even my cousin has starred several times in text, despite never
           appearing on the show. I believe you know him...
[Pan over to a similar-looking man.]
DIMARTINO: Hi, I'm Dimartino, DeMartino's cousin. It's been fun working on
           the set. I've even made a few friends here: [pan to each one as 
           he lists them] There's Sandy, Tiffani, Stacey, Treant, O'Neal,
           Ms. Lee, Brittney, and the Morgandorphers.

[Fashion Club]
QUINN: Yes, yes, I have plenty of fans. Where else but fanfiction could I be
       represented so well as a more in-depth character than in the show?
SANDI: Pfft!
[Quinn looks at Sandi a second.]
SANDI: ...Oh, sh[bleep]. I did that out loud, didn't I?

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: We even star in our own death scenes. Needless to say, there was quite
      a bloody mess to pick up after "Quinn Started It."
DARIA: I, myself, have been killed at least five, seven times. Big surprise.
JANE: Makes me glad that even though Kilner made me suicidal, I only died of
      old age.

[Fashion Club]
SANDI: I died.
QUINN: I died.
TIFFANY: At least once or twice.
STACY: Died. Car accident.
QUINN: Me too.
TIFFANY: That crazy nutso, whatever his name is, killed us *several* times.
SANDI: Who the hell decided it was a good idea to kill all of us?
TOM: [V.O.] Austin Covello the hell decided it was a good idea to kill all 
     of you!

[Beavis & Butt-head]
BUTT-HEAD: Huh huh. "Do I make you horny, baby? Do I?" Uh huh huh huh huh.
BEAVIS: Hey, mheh, that was pretty good, Butt-head. Austin. Mm-mmheh. I
        think he, like, gave us a TV show once. Heh heh mheh.
BUTT-HEAD: You dumbass. We, like, already had a TV show before that. Huh huh
           uh huh.
BEAVIS: Yeah-yeah, but this TV show was, like, on Diarrhea's TV show. Mheh.
        Or story. Mheh. Whatever.
TOM: [V.O.] Yes, Austin Covello. It all started with--

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Some crappy, crappy self-insertion fic. "My Date With Daria."
JANE: When everyone knows you really wanna go out w--
[Daria knocks Jane out of her chair.]
TOM: [V.O.] Things could only get better from there. *Much* better, in fact.

[Fashion Club]
STACY: My first story. [Giggle] I was so shocked when Austin came up to me
       with his idea!
SANDI: [Hint of jealousy] Yeah, that... that's wonderful, Stacy.
STACY: I mean, I think the way he wrote "A Day in the Life of Stacy" sort of
       opened a new door for other writers. Like maybe there's more to the
       supporting cast than meets the eye. He may have proposed that "Death
       of the Fashion Club" series, but it all started with *depth* of the
       Fashion Club.
SANDI: Despite how great the story was, it's obvious nothing goes perfectly
       on the set.
STACY: ...True.

*

[Blooper reel: A Day in the Life of Stacy]
[Jane holds out "Heathers" to Stacy.]
JANE: You dropped this.
[Stacy reaches out to take the tape. Jane snatches it back. Unfortunately,
Jane was holding the case upside down, and the tape goes soaring up and out
of shot. Jane looks at the empty case.]
JANE: Um. "Not so fast?"

[cut with a beep. "Take 7"]

[Jane holds out "Heathers" to Stacy.]
JANE: You dropped this.
[Stacy reaches out to take the tape. Jane snatches it back. This time, tape
and case both go flying back off-screen. Much chortling can be heard from
the crew.]
JANE: No, no, we can still do the scene. The directors can bluescreen the
      tape in! "Not so fast!"
[Stacy looks ready to cry.]

[cut with a beep "Take 13"]

[Jane holds out "Heathers" to Stacy.]
JANE: You dropped this.
[Stacy lashes out quickly to grab the tape, she and Jane play tug-of-war
briefly. Tape drops to the ground with a disheartening crunch.]
JANE: Heh heh. Lucky that was the prop department's, right?
[Stacy stares with horror at the ground.]
JANE: Right?!
[Stacy chases Jane around, arms outstretched to throttle Lane.]

[Blooper reel: The Death of Stacy]
[Sandi, Quinn, and Tiffany look over Stacy's casket.]
SANDI: That isn't the kind of lipstick she usually wears.
TIFFANY: I know. And what's with this burial dress? Where did they find it?
         J.J. Jitters?
STACY: Jeeters.
TIFFANY: What?
STACY: J.J. Jeeters.
TIFFANY: Oh, right.
QUINN: [Brightening up, hugging Stacy] She's alive!
[Laughs all around.]
SANDI: Yay, happy ending.

[cut with a beep "Take 2"]

SANDI: That isn't the kind of lipstick she usually wears.
TIFFANY: I know. And what's with this burial dress? Where did they find it?
[Stacy snickers.]
TIFFANY: J.J. Jee-hehehehe.
[They keep chuckling.]
STACY: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just keep thinking she's gonna mess up again.
       Hehe. Okay, okay. I'm ready. One more time.

[cut with a beep "Take 3"]

SANDI: That isn't the kind of lipstick she usually wears.
TIFFANY: I know. And--
STACY: Ha ha ha!
[They all laugh again.]
STACY: Stop! You're killing me! I'm dying!
QUINN: You're SUPPOSED to be! STAY dead!

*

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: I have to admit Austin doesn't suck. It's really too bad he focuses
       his powers on the Fashion Gestapo.
JANE: Yeah, even when he's focusing on you, he tends to get all... clubby.
DARIA: Is that a word?
JANE: It is now.

*

[Lost footage: Fifteen Minutes of Frame]
"It's The Beavis and Butthead Show!" said an off-camera announcer crooned
as the theme began to play. It looked like a parody of that old cop show,
Starsky & Hutch.

"How did those two idiots get a TV show!" Daria demanded to the television.

Jane looked up from the painting that she was working on. "Well, you know
the networks got together and said, 'hmm… we're not meeting our violence
and stupidity quota for the year. Why don't we get two inbreeds from Texas
with a mile long criminal record? That'll bring in the ratings.'"

"At least I'm not in the stupid thing," muttered Daria.

Just then the TV announcer stated enthusiastically, "and co-starring Tracy
Grandstaff as Daria Morgendorffer!"

"Jane, tell me that I didn't hear what I thought I heard."

Jane went over to the TV and looked at the brunette woman who was now
Daria's alter ego. "Why Daria, you're a TV star! Can I have your
autograph?" Jane joked.

Daria resisted an urge to throw a hard random object at her. "That woman
doesn't look a thing like me! And look at her outfit. I've never wore a
necklace in my life."

"Daria…"

"And what's with the black. What am I, some sort of beatnik?"

"Daria…"

"And her nose is too big, too!"

"Daria!"

"What?"

"You're entering the Quinn Zone. A zone where shallowness pervades your
brains and makes you unable to think rationally. Cool it."

Daria paused and took a breath. "You're right. It's just that I don't like
my likeness being used on a TV show without my permission."

"Hey, they're famous now. You could sue them."

"No. They're so dumb that the executives are probably conning them out of
their money. Maybe I'd just better lie lower than usual until this all
blows over at school."

*

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Oh, yeah. Glad he cut out that part.
JANE: Definitely icky instead of edgy.

[Fashion Club]
STACY: Another thing I like about Mr. Covello is that even when he's doing
       something as outrageous as a crossover, he bothers to look over and
       edit.
QUINN: Oh, yeah, thank goodness. Unlike some people, <cough>Guerin</cough>.
STACY:  Well, Austin decided that the crossover was getting too long, so he
        decided to cut some scenes...

*

[Lost footage: Stacy Rowe, Evangelion Pilot]
	Stacy stood on the conveyer belt, waiting for the door to open.  How
could she have gotten lost?  *Easily*, thought Stacy.  *God, this place is
huge.*  The belt ended at yet another escalator.  How many of these things
were there.
	In her right hand, she held Dr. Akagi's security card.  It was so
careless of her to have dropped it like that.  Why couldn't people take
better care of her belongings?  Then she wouldn't have to find them and
return them.  *There's got to be a lost and found somewhere in here.*
	Another door.  Expecting it to open, Stacy walked directly into it,
bumping her nose.  "Ouch!" she yelped.  Then she saw the card slot.  *Must
be a restricted area,* Stacy mused.  Then she looked at the security card.
*I probably shouldn't go in.  *But what if she's down there?  Oh man, I
could get in trouble!  But what if someone sees me with this card.  I could
get in even worse trouble.*  She contemplated the situation further.  *Well,
if anyone catches me, I'll just tell the truth.  I'm just looking for
Ritsuko.*  She swiped the card.
	The door opened to reveal a dimly lit passageway.  Stacy stepped
inside and began to creep down the corridor.  "Dr. Akagi?  Ritsuko?  Dr.
Akagi, are you down here?"  She stopped at another elevator.  Pushing the
lone button next to it opened the doors, and Stacy stepped inside.
	The elevator opened to yet another silent hall.  Stacy could hear her
own heart beating as she stepped out.  "Ritsuko?  Misato?  Anybody around?
If there are any knife-wielding maniacs down here, I've got mace," she
finished weakly.
	No one.  Not a soul.  Stacy went down the cavernous corridor.  *You
could fit an Eva down here,* she noted.  She stopped at another secure door.
*Wow!  Security within security within security.  What could they be hiding
down here?*  Finally, she swiped the card.
	Stacy gasped as she saw the door open.  Her heart beat faster and
faster at the horror that stared back at her.  Spread out on a crucifix was
a blue…*thing*.  It was about half the size of an Eva, and it probably would
have been the same size, had it had any legs.  Instead mounds of organic
tissue bubbled at the bottom of its waist, and its five eyes stared at Stacy
from behind the giant spear that held it in place.  Stacy put a hand over
her mouth to muffle the scream that was about to escape her lips.  The she
turned to run, and saw *him*.
	He was a tall, middle-aged man, dressed in all in black.  Black
trousers, black shirt, black opened sports-jacket, black hair, black beard.
The only things that weren't black were his blood red tie and his red-tinted
glasses.  As he looked down at Stacy, she realized that the man had glowing
eyes.  "What are you doing down here?" the man snarled at her.  "You aren't
supposed to be in this place!"
	Stacy suddenly felt a wet trickle running down her leg.

*

[Fashion Club]
STACY: The main reason he cut that scene was that he felt my reaction to
       Commander Ikari was too strong, and it didn't really add anything to
       the fic.  He saved me a bit of embarrassment there.
SANDI: Except that we just showed the clip *now*.
[Stacy turns red as Quinn and Tiffany continue.]
QUINN: It's just as well Commander Ikari didn't appear in the story.
TIFFANY: He's just too cranky.

[Trent]
[He's just asleep in the director's chair.]

[Mack & Jodie]
JODIE: I think Mr. Covello is like... an "everything" writer. He's doesn't
       seem afraid to dip his toe into new waters, so to speak. He's done
       drama, comedy, prose, script, self-insertion, crossovers...
MACK: Plus he managed to give me more than five lines of dialogue.
[Andrea passes by.]
ANDREA: Oh, lucky you.
[Mack raises an eyebrow as Andrea moves off-screen.]

[Andrea]
ANDREA: Generally, I'm lucky to even be on the show in the foreground of a
        scene. Even more lucky to have a line. So of course, I'm also lucky
        if I get to appear in a fanfic. I think the writers are still afraid
        of me because of the way I dress and the way I wear my hair and my
        habit of staring at people. 

[Cut to a hand-held camera shot of Andrea standing in front of the desk of a 
guy in a white shirt and tie, presumably a writer. Andrea stares.]
WRITER: WHAT?!
ANDREA: Oh, uh, I was wondering if I was going to get a role soon, I'm kind 
        of low on cash.
WRITER: [Stammers nervously] Uh...um...yeah, we're working on something, uh,
        what are you doing with that evil symbol?!
ANDREA: [Fingering her ankh pendant out of boredom]  Nothing. And it's not 
        evil.
WRITER: Right, right, well, uh, anyway, yeah, you'll be in a story soon
        enough, yeah.
ANDREA: Hope so. I gotta go, I need to pick up my black duster from the dry 
        cleaners.
[The writer's eyes widen.]

[Cut back to Andrea backstage]
ANDREA: So anyway, usually when they do use me in a story, they make up some 
        weird story as to why I'm so [finger quotes] "mysterious." Like
        that Rey Fox hack, he got some crazy idea to make me some sort of
        psychic in order to further his story. Naturally, he pretty much
        discarded me afterwards. Except when he wrote his follow-up to
        "Curse of the Misery Chick", he decided to put me back in as some
        sort of psychic detective, trying to figure out why Daria seemed so
        disturbed about that Lawndale football guy in Fairfield going into a
        coma. Of course, in the eleventh hour, he cut me and pretty much
        everybody else except that [bleep]in' prima donna Daria. Anyway,
        here's a scene from that fanfic, where I turn my keen detective
        skills on Lawndale's finest athlete.

*

[Lost footage: Last Dance With Mary Jane]
Later that day, I happened upon Kevin Thompson after another class.

"Hey, Kevin."

"Huh?" He gave me much the same look as Jane did, but with even more
confusion. "Oh, hi, uh, Goth chick!"

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, did you know Casey Adams?"

"Oh yeah, he's cool. Coach says we're gonna be dedicating our next game to
him. Gonna wear like, black jerseys or something. Is that why you're always
wearing black? 'Cause it's like, really depressing." I was actually used to
this sort of talk. "Is it true that he was at that party after the game last
week?"

"What? Hey man, don't go dragging Casey's name in the mud! He was a good
football player, and he was a really cool guy! He was like, really
supportive of the team! And he...uh...did lotsa cool stuff! He like...he
even bought us beer for out party, he was totally cool! So you better not
say that he...what did you say about him again?"

After blinking incredulously a few times, I answered, "He was at the party?"

"Yeah, but he was cool! And I don't want you like, hopping on his grave!"

"He's not dead, Kevin."

"Well then, like...don't hop on his...hospital bed! We were just having fun,
I'll bet you don't know anything about that, 'cause you're like all
depressed all the time!"

"I'm not..." It took a second or two to get the nerve to say the next few
words, "...hopping on his hospital bed, I was just curious. And yes, I am
familiar with the concept of fun, thank you. Anyway, was Daria there, too?"

Kevin calmed down and settled back into his typical grinning idiot mode, as 
opposed to his shouting idiot mode. "Uh, yeah, Daria was there, but she
wasn't getting into it. I guess that's why everybody thought that she ratted
us out, but Brit said she didn't, so I like, saved her. It was pretty cool,"
he said with pride.

"Did Casey think she ratted you out?"

"Yeah, he thought she did, but then he like, changed his mind. I guess me
and Mack set him straight."

"Right. Was Daria still mad at him, though?"

"Uh, I don't think so. She's like, never mad, though. She's never happy,
either. She's like, never anything, really."

"Yeah, I know, well I gotta go now, thanks for talking."

"No prob! Is this gonna be like, in the school paper? Put down 'QB Kevin
Thompson says 'Lawndale's gonna TAKE STATE! WOOOOOO!!!!'"

"Uh, okay, how many 'O's in 'woooooooo'?"

"Uh...I dunno, get a dictionary."

"Right. See ya."

"Later, babe!"

"BABE?!" said Brittany from somewhere behind Kevin. I walked off down the
hall while Brittany pounded on him.

*

[Tom still in the living room set.]
TOM: Coming up in "Behind the Glasses" after the break: The mysterious
     Paperpusher. Aside from his pseudonym, not much is known of this man.
     He has written and directed several stories, each idea somehow finding
     its way into official episodes. His "Her, Uh, Cane" storm appeared in
     "The Musical." Fantasy, such as "Mirror, Mirror", appeared in "Depth
     Takes a Holiday." Daria's driver's license was received in both
     "Jalopy" and "Speedtrapped." Coincidence? Or telepathy?

      We don't know who he is. We don't know his real name. We don't even
      know what he looks like!
[Michelle Klein-Hass walks in.]
KLEIN-HASS: I do.
TOM: We-- weh, huh?
KLEIN-HASS: I know him. He came over for a while not too long ago. Nice guy.
            Showed him the sights. He's a lawyer, name of Rich F--
TOM: Okay! Go ahead, ruin the mystery! I go into a long set-up before the
     commercial break, and you just go destroy it. Walk all over me. Go on.
[She walks off with an annoyed sigh.]
TOM: Yeah, run away. Don't come back!... Yeah... Hey, wait. How'd she get
     onto the set?

[Commercials]

[Aaaand back to Tom. Mack and Andrea are beside him.]
MACK: We were wondering how you've gotten more lines than Andrea and I
      combined in the entire three seasons if you've only been in one
      episode so far.
TOM: I don't know. Take it up with Glenn.
ANDREA: [To Mack] C'mon, let's go ask that Ted guy the same question.
[They go to leave Tom alone.]
TOM: Oh, hey. Welcome back, readers. Prepare for more miscellaneous goodies.

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: Believe it or not, most of the cast is the same offscreen as they are
      on.
DARIA: It's an odd quirk in us cartoons. Have to admit, it makes us easier
       to cast. Too bad we end up getting trademarked, and thus can never
       star in any other show.
JANE: You remember "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" True story.

[Kevin & Brittany]
BRITTANY: Acting is hard.
KEVIN: I'm the QB!
BRITTANY: So's math, come to think of it.
KEVIN: I'm the QB!

[Fashion Club]
SANDI: We, the Fashion Club, are masters of acting.
DARIA: [O.S.] You can say that again.
SANDI: Hey, shut up!

[Trent]
[Still asleep. A stick comes from O.S. and pokes him in the shoulder.]
TRENT: Hm-oh-wha! Oh. Um... hi. How much did I miss?

[Defoe & Manson]
DEFOE: Acting isn't really hard at all... especially if you don't have to do
       it too often! I've only been in two episodes, but thanks to my pay-
       or-play contract, I get paid for every one whether I'm in them or
       not.
MANSON: Oh, you think *you've* got it easy...

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Ain't Hollywood grand?
JANE: We're in NYC.
DARIA: ......Shut up.

[Kevin & Brittany]
KEVIN: I'm the QB!
BRITTANY: They get it, babe. [To camera] But the most annoying thing about
          acting is if you work hard on a scene, and someone decides to cut
          it!
KEVIN: I never get cut, cuz I'm--
BOTH: The QB.
BRITTANY: Right. My mom... step-mom... that is to say, the actress who plays
          my step-mom... had only one scene in Carried Wildly's story. And
          it was destroyed completely! Is that fair?! No, it is not!
KEVIN: Um, I don't think it was destroyed.
BRITTANY: Really?
KEVIN: Well, yeah. [Points to monitor O.S.] Look over there.
[They do.]

*

[Lost footage: Cheered Down]
SCENE ## (Morgendorffer house, evening)

(Shot of Quinn lounging on the center couch, watching television.  We see
Daria come toward her from the stairs.)

DARIA:  Where are Mom and Dad?

QUINN: (making a face)  They're at Couples Therapy Night.

(Both shudder.)

[Originally, this was meant as a hint to the readers that the Couples
Therapy group leaders -- aka the Guptys -- would be coming to counsel Jake
in "None in the Family, Part Two."]

DARIA:  Shouldn't you be on rah-rah patrol, or something?

QUINN:  *Hey*, even head cheerleaders need a night off to refresh
themselves.

DARIA: (sardonic)  And to watch "The Texas Cheerleader Murdering Mom."

QUINN:  *Psht*, this movie is *so* unrealistic.  Those accents don't even
*sound* like they're from Texas.

DARIA:  Uh-huh.  (Bt)  Well, be sure to make note of any backstabbing that
could come in handy.

QUINN: (annoyed)  Very funny.

(Daria leaves.  Quinn continues to watch TV.  Several seconds later, we
hear heavy knocking on the door.  Quinn sighs, gets up, and goes over open
it.  Upon doing so, she sees Brittany standing there with Ashley Amber.)

BRITTANY: (to her stepmom)  There she is!  Get her!

(Quinn goes pale, remembering the TV movie.)

QUINN:  N-no, please *no*...

(Ashley Amber takes out a gun.  She slowly pulls the trigger.)

ASHLEY AMBER:  Like, take *that*.  (giggles.)

QUINN:  NO!

(She cringes in a vain attempt to ward off the blow.  For several seconds,
she remains in that pose, terrified.  Then at last she relaxes and lays
down her arms when she realizes the gun is shooting... water.  Quinn rolls
her eyes, and reaches over to slam the door.)

*

[Helen & Jake]
HELEN: Oh, Kara Wild is such a nice young woman. I'm touched by how she adds
       a new dimension of depth to every character.
JAKE: I'm the QB!... I mean... [moping] I wanted to be...

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Oh, sure, she's a nice person. But more often than not she manages to
       push me into the background.
JANE: [Bitter] Hey, at least she hasn't written you entirely out of a story.
DARIA: But there's still those pay-or-play contracts.
[They both give an over-acted thumbs-up to the camera.]

[Fashion Club]
SANDI: Kara... right... She's okay, I guess.
QUINN: You're just bitter cuz I'm her favorite character.
SANDI: No!
QUINN: And that you've been written too often as a total bitch.
SANDI: NO!
QUINN: And that your scene with 'N Synch was cut.
SANDI: THAT... is true, actually.
STACY: Would you feel better if we showed that?
SANDI: ...I guess.

*

[Lost footage: Outvoted]
SCENE ## (DeMartino's classroom)

(Shot of DeMartino standing in front of the class, lecturing.  In the
foreground we see the usual crowd: Daria, Jane, Brittany, Kevin, Andrea,
etc.)

DeMARTINO:  As *citizens* of this COUNTRY, we each have a responSIBILITY to
stay informed of --

(Suddenly, from offscreen: )

MS. LI: (over the P.A.)  Attention all students: I would like to take a few
moments to play a campaign song for Ms. Sandra Griffin.

DeMARTINO: (gritting his teeth)  What the *hell*?!

(We then hear soft, saccharine music, and singing by a male band that
obviously sounds professional.)

BAND:

		When you think beauty,
		When you think style,
		When you think someone with a golden smile,
		It's Saaaaaaandi.
		Sandi's comin' your way.

		Saaaaaaandi
		She's come to wish you a happy day.


JANE: (wrinkling nose)  Who *is* that??

DARIA:  Insipid melody, banal lyrics... it can only be the work of a
bubblegum boy band.

BRITTANY:  Kevvy, it's *'N Synch*!

(Daria and Jane both groan.)


BAND:

		She wants to make
		The school a better place
		For you and me and the human race.


JANE: (sarcastic)  'Cause *she* is the world.


BAND:

		Saaaaaaandi,
		America's Girl Next Door.
		Saaaaaaandi:
		She's there for you
		What are you waiting for?

		She's not like some weird strange
		*Other* girls.
		How much do you know about them?

		They could do pot,
		They could do crack,
		They could even carry a
		Gun in their backpack.


JANE:  It's like they've got a window into my mind.

(She says it in her usual lighthearted tone, but looks very uncomfortable.
Several people are giving her strange looks, including DeMartino.)


BAND:

		They may be waiting
		To blow you away.
		Whereas Saaaaaaandi
		Just wants to wish you a happy day.

		Vote for Saaaaaaandi,
		And every day will be a happy day.
		Saaaaaaandi...


(Jane closes her eyes wearily.)

*

[Fashion Club]
STACY: Better?
SANDI: A little... At least it got my mind off all that "Death of" fiction.
QUINN: Oh, God, bring that up again.
SANDI: But Quinn started it.
[Pause.]
SANDI: I was kidding.
[Pause.]
SANDI: It was the name of that death fic. "Quinn Started It," remember?
["Oh yeah", etc.]
TIFFANY: Buuut, it got a good review by Celeste Elizabeth Forman.
[Sandi leans over and whispers into Tiffany's ear.]
TIFFANY: ...A joke?

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: CE Forman is one obsessed fan. He even stole my answering machine
       tapes once.
JANE: He?
DARIA: Or she. Point is, CE tends to write the more true-to-the-show stuff,
       so a flock of fans has managed to gravitate towards her.
JANE: Her?
DARIA: Or him. The weird thing is, despite writing the "realistic" fics, he-
JANE: Um--
DARIA: Or she-
JANE: Thanks.
DARIA: Likes others' works that are quirky. Go fig.
JANE: Oh, yeah. If I recall correctly, such stories in that list are "Quinn
      Started It," "The Way Things Ought To Be," and any work at all done
      by...

[Beavis & Butt-head]
BEAVIS: Peter Guerin! [Butt-head laughs as Beavis talks] Think I remember
        him. Mheh. I think he, like, killed us once. Mheh heh. That was
        cool. Heh heh mheh heh.
BUTT-HEAD: Uh huh huh huh. "Peter." Huh huh huh huh...
BEAVIS: Mheh. Oh-ho yeah, mheh heh. Heh heheh mheh heh. Boi-oi-oi-oi-oing!
        Mheh.

[Andrea]
ANDREA: Sex, nudity, cussing, impossible plots, contrived dialogue, constant
        "evil" smirks, plagiarism, over-used Anime refs, mile-long author's
        notes... That's why *I* like him, anyway.

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: In our redundant lives, it's always good to go out and do something
       new... He provides that, at least.
JANE: Most certainly. I think he's one of *my* favorites.
DARIA: Yeah, but at least Kilner caters the set with his own cooking.
JANE: Oh, yeah... Now I feel torn.

[Tom]
TOM: Um, Mr. Guerin almost never edits and he does everything on the first
     take. We have nothing new from him to show you... sorry `bout that...
     Let's move the subject on then, I guess.

[Helen & Jake]
JAKE: I know! I know, I know! Danny Bronstein! Hehehe. He's funny.
HELEN: Oh, yes, him... What a disturbing boy.

[Trent]
TRENT: What happened between me and Amy was purely fictional; I'm saying
       that right now.

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: What happened between Trent and Amy was based on a true story, to
      clear up some confusion for you.
DARIA: Jane!
JANE: What??

[Rachel Landon]
RACHEL: I don't see why I'm being interviewed. I haven't even been
        *mentioned* on the show.

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: [Singing to "I Shot the Sheriff"] Stacy shot the principal... but she
      didn't shoot the vice-principal...
DARIA: Do we even *have* a vice-principal?

[Ms. Li]
LI: I'll have you know that any rumors of the disappearance of the vice-
    principal of Lawndale High are entirely unfounded. They--
[Muffled voice from the floor. Li stomps a couple of times. Pause.]
LI: They cannot be proven.

*

[Blooper reel: Who Shot Principal Li?]
[Dylan hands a cigarette to a kid as Daria and Jane watch.]
DYLAN: Here you go.
KID: Um, thanks.
DARIA: What the hell?
JANE: I think he's a narf.
DARIA: A what?
JANE: Oh shoot!
[Cast laughs]
JANE: He's a--
DARIA: Zort?
JANE: He's a NARC! A NARC!
DYLAN: Poit.
DARIA: No, he's Nerf. All foamrubber and stuff.
JANE: I meant to say narc!
DARIA: Sure you did.
JANE: I did!
DARIA: Yeah.

[Blooper reel: Thicker Than Water]
AMY: So...
TRENT: ...So...
[Silence, awkward in the extreme.]
TRENT: ...So...
MICHELE: [O.S.] Hey, c'mon, *relax* you two!
[Michele comes and sits in. Pause.]
MICHELE: I'm glad you're in good health, Trent. Wouldn't want to see you in
         coughing fits... But the director does.
TRENT: What?... Oh, crap, I was...
AMY: Yeah.
TRENT: I need to take a drink first! I can't do a spit-take if I don't drink
       something first!
AMY: Yeah, that'd make it easier.
MICHELE: I'll leave you two alone then. [Leaves]
AMY: So should we... should we pick up from where?
BRONSTEIN: [O.S.] Just have Michele say her line and let Trent do his thing.
TRENT: Okay. [Takes Amy's drink] I'm gonna practice first.
AMY: Hey, gimme that!

*

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: Sure, he's a weirdo. But that's what we love about him.

[Helen & Jake]
JAKE: Funny guy. Another funny guy, I think, is that newbie. Ummm... What's
      his name?
HELEN: Uh... hmmm...

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Takis? John Takis?
JANE: You mean "New Meat"? Oh, yeah. Fun. Half sketch comedy and half semi-
      drama. Think he has a couple of novellas coming out.
DARIA: Oh, *sure*, one may think he's fun. But his lack of experience makes
       him a crappy director. All of Murphy's Law broke loose during his
       second story.

*

[Blooper reel: Science Fare]
[Int. Trent's room.]
DARIA: What was Trent doing with Escher, anyway?
JANE: [Shrugs] He said it inspired him. I think he got the name "Mystik
      Spiral" from one of those tessellations.
DARIA: How long do you think it will take us to find it?
JANE: [Grim] Hours. Days. Weeks. There it is.
[Jane points, and Daria sees one corner of a book peeking out from Trent's
mostly-shut closet door. Jane leans over and tugs it free, causing the door
to swing open. Jane and Daria gasp in shock. The closet is clean. Trent
appears in the doorway, mildly surprised to find Jane and Daria in his
room.]
TRENT: Hey. What's going on?
JANE: [Not bothering to apologize for the intrusion] Trent, what the hell is
      that?
TRENT: [Shrugs] I cleaned out my closet.
DARIA: The apocalypse is upon us.
JANE: Trent, what happened to the special effects? There's supposed to be
      disgusting orange mess in there!
TRENT: Oh. Sorry. Here.
[Trent seizes a full laundry basket and tosses the contents into the closet.
He leaves the screen for several seconds, before returning with a can of
Cheez-Whiz, which he proceeds to spray all over the clothes.]
TRENT: There ya go.
[Jane closes her eyes and massages her temples.]
DARIA: [Sighs] Take two.

[beep]

[Int. Morgendorffer kitchen.]
[It's dinnertime at the Morgendorffers. Jake is gleefully cooking dinner,
while Helen is sitting a the table making an attempt to bond with her
daughters.]
HELEN: So how was your day, girls?
[Long pause.]
QUINN: Um ... why don't you ask Daria?
DARIA: It's your line.
QUINN: No, it's your line!
DARIA: [Impatient] Look, Quinn, your line is "Terrible! The Fashion Club got
       tricked into being in charge of the Science Fair, and now they're all
       blaming me!" MY line is "Terrible. The Fashion Club got tricked into
       being in charge of the Science Fair. I'm blaming Quinn." My line is
       not funny unless you say your line *first*.
QUINN: Oh. [Beat] Okay, can we start over?
HELEN: So how was your day, girls?
QUINN: Terrible. The Fashion Club got tricked into being in charge of the
       Science Fair. I'm blaming Daria.
TAKIS: CUT!

[beep]

[Int. Barch's room.]
JANE: ...the house is temporarily uninhabitable. But we used this months
      mortgage to hire a cleaning service. At least we'll finally get rid of
      that *smell* coming from behind the refrigerator. And we owe it all to
      my brother's hygiene. That is one aggressive mix-o-mite!
DARIA: That's "myxomytecite" dah...
TAKIS: Just start the line again. We'll pick up from there.
DARIA: Thanks. "That's miteomixymite" I mean... dammit, what am I saying?
TAKIS: Ummm... hang on a sec... "myxomycete."
DARIA: Thanks. "That's myxmy -- myxomete -- DAMN it! I need a five!

[beep]

[Int. LHS gym, Brittany's table.]
[She is demonstrating her first and only invention:]
BRITTANY: [Especially bouncy] I call it "The Perfuminator"! Do you want to
          try it?
[Brittany holds the device out to Sandi. It is a conglomerate of airbrush
parts held together with rubber-bands so the nozzles all face outward.
Instead of vials of paint, vials of perfume are screwed in. While it would
be somewhat unwieldy in a bathroom cabinet, it is quite possibly the
cleverest thing Brittany will ever do...]
SANDI: [Smiling] Sure.
[...the device works perfectly. Sandi inhales the gentle fragrance.]
SANDI: Ahhh...
QUINN: [Worried] Hey waittaminute ... wasn't that thing supposed to, like,
       explode or something?
SANDI: Are you saying we did the scene wrong, Quinn?
QUINN: Of course not, Sandi, it's just that...
SANDI: [Smirks] You have a problem, perhaps, with a little constructive
       ad-libbing?
QUINN: I would *never* question your judgment, Sandi. But the script *does*
       say that something goes wrong.
BRITTANY: [Jumping in] There was a pressure imbalance in the primary air
          tube. I corrected it so that the volume wouldn't exceed the
          nozzle's output capacity!
[Long silence.]
QUINN: [To off camera] Oh for God's sake, get a writer in here!

[beep]

[Cut to where Upchuck is sneaking into an open door marked "storage".]
UPCHUCK: [Sneakily] Ah! My fortress of solitude!
[The door snaps shut behind him.]
SANDI: [Also inside the closet] Who's there? Are they gone yet?
UPCHUCK: Grrrow!
SANDI: Charles?!?
[The handle jiggles frantically to no success. The door is locked. We hear a
moan of despair.]
UPCHUCK: Looks like it's just you and me, my little muchacha!
[<SMACK!>]
UPCHUCK: [Groans] Unnngghhh ... Ff ... feisty ...
[Long pause; there is silence outside.]
SANDI: [Calling out] Okay, people, the scene is, like, over. Now get me out
       of here.
[No response.]
SANDI: Hello? Quinn? This isn't funny! Hello?
UPCHUCK: [Singing] Some...where ... my love!
[<THWACK>]
UPCHUCK: Rrrrowwrrr!
SANDI: Heeeelllllppp!!!!!

*

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Well, I didn't mind that last one too much.
JANE: Surprise, surprise.
DARIA: Though this John's style reminds me of another John.

[Beavis & Butt-head]
BUTT-HEAD: Huh huh uh huh huh. "John." Huh huh huh.
BEAVIS: Yeah, mheh. [Does his best imitation of a flushing sound]
BUTT-HEAD: "Berry." Huh huh huh.
BEAVIS: Heh heh. Like raspberry. Mheh heh. PBBBBLLLTT!!! Heh heh mheh heh.
BUTT-HEAD: Yeah.

[Mack & Jodie]
MACK: I think Berry is like a Simpson-writer-wannabe. Still, it's fun.
JODIE: What's interesting is that some of his scripts are more like an
       improv. We're given the basic idea of a scene and we make up the
       dialogue as we go. Daria, of course, is a master of this.

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Innovative? Some may think. But it's more like Berry's too lazy to
       think up the dialogue ahead of time.
JANE: He also likes some last minute changes. One was so last minute in our
      Christmas special, we ended up having to cut out a scene. Y'see, the
      last minute decision was to have me get a job at the mall. Buuuut, one
      scene was conceived before that was decided, so it was written as if I
      never *got* the job.

*

[Lost footage: Herself, an Elf]
[Tad and Tricia sit on Daria's lap at the ex-Santa establishment.]
TRICIA: We are glad to meet you again, Daria.
TAD: Why haven't you come over lately?
DARIA: I thought I was banned from your house.
TAD: I thought you didn't follow authority.
TRICIA: Yeah.
DARIA: [Let's skip this topic] Look, don't you want anything for Christmas?
TRICIA: Um, just for you to come over.
DARIA: [A bit surprised] Ummm... okay, I'll see what can be worked out.
TAD: Thanks.
[They get off and leave.]
DARIA: Oy. At least the day's almost over. Who's next?
[Jane runs over and takes Daria's lap.]
JANE: Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! Me! I want, um, everything in the whole wide world! To
      rule the universe and beyond! And, um... could you refill my water
      bottle?
DARIA: Jane?! Will you cut that out? Get off.
JANE: Y'know, Trent's out in the car. Maybe he'd like to come in and sit--
[Daria gets up, knocking Jane off.]
DARIA: Alright, that's it!

*

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: [Deadpan] Ha... ha ha... Boy, if that's what he took out, the stuff
       he left in must be pure gold.
JANE: Yeah. And Brittany's a genius.
BOTH: Ha ha ha!...
DARIA: Wait, that happened once.
JANE: ...Hm?...

[Kevin & Brittany]
BRITTANY: William Gasarch made me smart in "The QB Test"... I mean IQ!
          Dammit, now you got me doing it! [Hits Kevin in the arm]
KEVIN: Oww!

[Tom]
TOM: Yes, it's that sad time where we must take another break. But coming up
     is some interviews with some one-time characters, plus a special look
     at a creation by Diane Long. *And* some "lost works", never before seen
     by you readers. Stay tuned.

[Commercials]

[Tom]
TOM: See? That didn't take so long. All you had to do was read the word
     "commercials", after all... Now, I bet you are all wondering "If the
     cast members always play themselves, then who plays the characters the
     author makes up?"

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: I wasn't.
JANE: Nope.

[Kevin & Brittany]
KEVIN: No.
BRITTANY: No.

[Mack & Jodie]
MACK: No.
JODIE: No.

[Trent]
TRENT: Zzzzzz.

[Tom]
TOM: Well, that's too bad. Gonna show you anyway.

[Margot (Forman's "Accept No Substitutes")]
MARGOT: Yup, one-shot character. Chances are I'll never come back. Yeah, I
        know you're all crying and stuff. But I can't stay in one place too
        long; I'm the wind.

[Stan (Berry's "Herself, an Elf")]
STAN: You know what's really sad is when you're created for a story, and
      find out that the official television series has created a character
      with your same name who turns out to be an annoying slob!!... It's a
      good thing I don't get bitter so easily.

[Blake & Blake (Berry's "My Quinn's Delayed Reaction" and Bronstein's "One
Band Town" respectively)]
BLAKE #1: What seems even more annoying is to be created and then find out
          that a different *author* has created someone with the same name
          who turns out to be a brainless cretin.
BLAKE #2: Hey, [bleep] you, you [bleep bleep bleep]!
BLAKE #1: Case in point.

[Some kid you usually find in the background of the show that never has any
lines]
KID: I would love to be in the spotlight, if only once. These fanfic
     creations don't know how good they have it.

[Matthew (Covello's "Otherwise Known as Quinn the Great")]
MATTHEW: These background characters don't know how good they have it. As
         soon as a fic creation has their shot as a plot device in a single
         story, they're gone for good... That's right, I don't really exist.
         You just *think* you're interviewing me.

[Lynn (Canadibrit's 'Look-Alike' series)]
LYNN: I am not a self-insertion character. No way. Uh-uh. How could you
      think that? You insult me. Get out of my face.

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: My exact twin who does not look like me at all is fun to be around.
       Only person in the world I can relate to.
JANE: Hey!
DARIA: Lynn's creator, however, never seems to have control of the cast. In
       fact, everyone seems to be a hell of a lot more rowdy whenever she
       directs.
JANE: I think that wouldn't be a problem if she just stopped serving
      Mountain Dew every time.

*

[Blooper reel: Love Him or Leave Him]
[Int. Daria's room.]
DARIA: ...Ever consider the unparalleled satisfaction of telling the little
       back-stabber to go to hell?
QUINN: [Smirking] I thought about it... but prison clothes would NOT
       flatter.
CANADIBRIT: CUT!
[Canadibrit walks on set, shaking her head.]
CANADIBRIT: Quinn, I KNOW the whole fashion phony role gets to you but we
            HAVE to get this done. The shippers are about to lynch me. We
            have a DEADLINE! Now get into character.
DARIA: Sure ... Herr Director.
CANADIBRIT: Daria, PLEASE don't call me that.
[Behind Canadibrit's back, Daria and Quinn mimic her, hands on hips and
scornful faces as they mouth "We have a DEADLINE!" And the sadistic
cameramen caught it all.]

[beep "Take 2"]

QUINN: I've TRIED! I open my mouth, but what comes out is "Let's go
       shopping"!
DARIA: Then I cannot help you. [Smirking] The only thing I can do is put you
       out of your misery.
QUINN: [Playing along] Yes! I see that it's too late for me! End my pain,
       Daria, end my pain!
CANADIBRIT: CUT!

[beep]

[Int. Lane basement.]
LYNN: Let's see. Because of one rash, jealous, [bleep]ed up act on Saturday,
      you have trashed your guitar and Max's bass drum... wrecked the school
      dance - which I wouldn't care about if it hadn't meant that I got in
      [bleep]... embarrassed Daria... [bleep]ing humiliated me... pretty
      well [bleep]ed your chances of getting together with Daria at all... 
CANADIBRIT: CUT!
LYNN: [Looking at the camera] Oh, [bleep], I forgot this is rated G. But it
      sounds BETTER this way!
CANADIBRIT: Tough [bleep].

[Ext. Cullen house.]
AP: Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!
[A plastic cow flies out the window, pegging AP in the Adam's apple.]
AP: AUGH! [bleep]ING [bleep], LYNN!
LYNN: [O.S.] [bleep] OFF!
DARIA: [O.S., laughing] Yeah, [bleep] off!
CANADIBRIT: CUT!
[Trent drives up and steps out of the little blue car.]
TRENT: Hey, Lynn, give the [bleep] what he deserves!
[A waterballoon launches out the window and hits Trent in the face.]
LYNN: [O.S.] You [bleep] off too! We're going to do a three-in-a-bed lezzer
      sex orgy for those people who STILL think Daria and Jane are GAY!
CANADIBRIT: CUT!
TRENT: [bleep]ing [bleep], leading me on like that! I'm gonna kick your
       lezzer [bleep]!
JANE: [Leaning out the window] Come on and [bleep]ing try it, Conan!
CANADIBRIT: CUT! Damn you kids, CUT!

[beep]

[Int. Pizza King.]
SANDI: Dump this loser IMMEDIATELY, Quinn. You are on fashion sabbatical if
       you don't.
[Quinn stands up and slaps Sandi across the face.]
QUINN: No way in Hell! Just because you're jealous, you Nazi [bleep]!
STACY: CATFIGHT!
[And Quinn and Sandi grab for each other and begin duking it out, hamming it
up for all it's worth.]
CANADIBRIT: CUT!
SANDI: You cheap Seventies-throwback slut!
QUINN: You neo-Nazi [bleep]! I bet you'd [bleep] a DOG if you couldn't get a
       man!
SANDI: Rich coming from a [bleep] like you!
CANADIBRIT: CUT! Oh, [bleep]ing hell, you guys, CUT!

*

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: Apparently a triple-dose of Pixie Stix and a "South Park" marathon
      weren't good preparation steps to performing in a drama. Go fig.

[Tom]
TOM: Hell breaks loose quite often, as any writer/director can vouch. In
     fact, one is here with me right now. Introducing Diane Long, folks.
[Zoom out: Long is sitting in a director's chair, Tom sitting in the other
chair facing her.]
TOM: Greetings, yet-another-author-who-never-wrote-me-in-a-story.
LONG: Hello, character-too-new-to-be-used-too-often-quite-yet.
TOM: ...Touché... Well, Di, I've heard that you had quite a hard time
     getting your tear-jerker "Undone"... well, done. What happened?
LONG: Um, I think everyone was still wound up. Canadibrit had used the cast
      last before I got to them--
CANADIBRIT: [O.S.] Sure! Blame me! Everyone else does!
LONG: ...And to top it all off, we were on a tight deadline. Being one of
      the few `shipper authors that's actually *appreciated* is fun, but a
      bit of a... responsibility.
TOM: I see. How did you manage to stay on deadline with the guys acting all
     looney tuney?
LONG: Well, we had to do everything on the first take, and then edit
      everything afterwards. The end result worked out, but the raw footage
      is more embarrassing than the contrived plotting of my first story.
TOM: Yes, I can believe that. You wish no one else to see it... So here it
     is!
LONG: What?! Hey! [Shouts O.S.] Rey, get the `maters!
TOM: The what?

*

[Blooper reel: Undone]
[The scene as it was before it was edited. All the bloopers and hijinks
which were cut out are in parentheses.]

Trent leaned further out and tried to get a better look.  He could barely
see the outlines of Daria's legs dangling over the ledge, but nothing more.
The pots of flowers obscured the rest of her. 

"Daria, tell me you did not single-handedly drink two bottles of red wine
and then climb out to the garden."

"Two and a half bottles >hic<, and too much ice-cream.  I feel sick.
(Sick of this stupid scene, that is.)"

(Trent was obviously trying not to laugh. His lower lip quivered with the
effort, and he got the line out:) "God Daria, what's wrong?"

"(Nothing that banning Diane from Outpost Daria wouldn't cure.)  I'm going
to come in now."

"I'd really feel better if you stayed put," he said shakily. ("This sucks.
Want to go out for Chinese food after?")

"OK. I feel too sick to move, anyway." (Under the cover of the potted
plants, Daria rolled her eyes at Trent, but nodded indicating that dinner
sounded good.)

"Daria, what are you doing?" He asked, seeing her move along the ledge.

"Coming in," she muttered. ("Let's wrap this up and get the hell out of
here, I'm starving.")

"Oh, be careful."

On her hands and knees Daria silently edged her way back along the ledge.
She was using every ounce of concentration to keep on course.  Pale and
sweating, Trent leaned out of the window as far as he dared, with his arms
stretched out towards her.

"Don't worry.  Don't worry," Daria assured him as she came with in his
reach.  "Don't grab at me either. (I'm serious.  Keep your hands where I can
see them.)"

"How can I help?"  Trent asked.

Daria was at the window now.  She got up on her knees and put her hands on
the windowsill.  She gave him a bleary smirk.  "Pull me inside."

Trent gently put his hands around her waist and started to pull her in.
(Unable to help himself, he started tickling Daria's rib cage.  Caught
utterly by surprise, Daria let out a loud whooping sound and staggered
backwards, falling off of the ledge.  She fell to the floor of the set,
barely two feet below, landing hard on her ass.

She glared up at a snickering Trent.  "You jerk! That hurt!"

He extended a hand down to Daria. "Heh-heh.  I'm sorry. Let's try that
again."

"Hey, guys?" Diane stuck her head around the edge of the set and shook a
half eaten bagel at him.  "Stop goofing around, or we'll never get out of
here.  Just take it from where you left off.  We'll just edit it all out
anyway."  She ducked back out of sight.

"Cool. Ready?"

Daria took her place on the ledge and nodded at him.  "Action.")

Trent gently put his hands around her waist and pulled her in.  He hugged
her upper body as she eased her legs through the window.  He started to let
go when her feet touched the floor, but held on tightly as it became
apparent that she couldn't stand on her own.

"What the hell happened today?" he asked, his concern making him sound
tetchy. Reacting to the tone of his voice, she pushed away from him and her
knees promptly gave out.  She slid into a kneeling position and curled up
into a tight ball, hiding her face.  She muttered something that he couldn't
make out, but it was clear to Trent that she was crying. (She peeped at him
through her fingers, stuck out her tongue, hid her face again and proceeded,
to overact. 

"WAHHHH! <snif> UNNNNGH-HUUUUUH! <gasp> BOOO-HOOOO-HOOOOO!")

"Daria, you're scaring me.  Please tell me what's wrong."

"Fired," she whispered hoarsely. ("That sounds good. Ignite me now and end
my suffering.")

"My god.  They can't do that.  You're under contract," he sputtered.

"Severed.  Legally. (Like Diane's head should be. I can't believe I'm doing
this for scale.)"

"Did you ask your lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry.  I'm making plenty of money.  We can do just fine until you
get back on your feet," he soothed.

Her head snapped up and she glared at him. "That's not the point.  There's
nowhere for me to stand Trent.  (My legs have been run through a wood
chipper and I'm left with nothing but bloody stumps.)"

Her intensity drove away any empty words of comfort he might have offered,
so he just gathered her into his arms and held her close.

"Ugh.  I feel sick.  Help me get to the bathroom, please," she moaned into
his chest.

Trent half supported, half dragged Daria into the bathroom and held her hair
back while she retched into the toilet. (Her acting was so convincing that
he started retching himself - for real.  He never could stand to be around
other people's vomit. He clapped a hand over his mouth and made disgusting
gurgling noises.

Daria sprang away nervously.  "Gross.  Are you OK? You're not going to hurl
are you?"

Trent took a deep breath and looked embarrassed.  "Uh, yeah. I think I'm all
right.  Just don't make those noises anymore, OK? It's too realistic for
me."

"Wuss!" Jane shouted from the wings.

Daria crossed her arms.  "This is disgusting.  I'm done for tonight. Yo
Jane, lets go get some veggie fried rice.")

*

[Tom, without Diane]
TOM: [Covered with tomatoes, head to toe] Wasn't that interesting?... Yeuch
     ...Um, Diane Long, ladies and gentlemen... I need a shower. Uh, here.
     Look at this while I go clean up.

*

[Lost fiction: I, QB]



       "I,QB"

(Cool title, huh? It's, like, all letters!)

         by

Kevin Thompson, QB (that means quarterback of the football team. Like, you
probably already knew that, but Mr. O'Neill said we should assume that the
reader doesn't know anything. But then how could they read?)

I'm Kevin. I'm the QB.

I just realized I hafta write a page and I forgot to double space so far


so


I'll


triple


space


this


sentence.


Wow! This is a lot easier than I thought it would be! Cool! Wait. Daria says
I hafta like tell about when I was born and stuff. When I was born... um...
hey wait a minute, Daria, I don't remember when I was born!... my parents
aren't here, so I can't ask them... Okay, I'm just gonna start from where I
remember like Daria said.

I'm the QB.

Hey! A page! The end.

*

[Kevin & Brittany]
KEVIN: Hey, cool! That was my essay! WHOO!
BRITTANY: Wow, that was so educational, Kevvy.
KEVIN: I kept *telling* you I was the QB!

[Tom]
TOM: [Cleaned up] Yes, in his research for "I, Upchuck" John Takis was able
     to recover a copy of this never-before-viewed draft of Kevin's
     autobiographical paper... Nifty, eh?

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: It's a rarity to be cast in a *good* story that's unfinished. I mean,
       stories are usually left unfinished because the author loses
       interest, right?
JANE: Oh, sure.

[Tom]
TOM: Why *are* some stories left undone? [Splat! from a flying `mater] I
     mean not finished!... Where was I?... Okay, unfinished fiction isn't
     often easy to scrape up, but we have a couple of clips of them just for
     you because you're all so danged special.

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Remember doing Berry's first fic, Jane?
JANE: Whatchoo talkin' about, Morgendorffer? I was hardly even in "Jake's
      Bond."
DARIA: No, I mean his *other* first fic.
[Pause.]
JANE: Ohhhhhh... nnnnno.
DARIA: Here, take a look at it in all it's prose glory.
JANE: What? John Berry?! Writing prose??!

*

[Lost fiction: Make Me Laugh]
	Waiting only a couple of minutes after Daria had left, O'Neill
addressed the class. "Excuse me? Class? I'd like to speak with you about
feelings for a moment, to be a bit off-topic.
	"You've all noticed that Daria... wasn't quite enthused about
receiving one of the best honors a student such as herself could've--"
Noticing none of the class members were listening, he stopped. "Excuse me?
...Pardon?... Oh..."
	Though it would mean not having to do anything for the rest of the
period, Jane couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor dope of a teacher.
She came up and patted him on the shoulder, soon followed by an phonetic,
"There, there."
	O'Neill didn't seem to notice the insincerity. "Thanks. At least *you*
show interest in-"
	"No, I don't. But I have a way for you to broadcast your assignment."
Jane demonstrated, while O'Neill followed. "You take a piece of chalk here."
	"Yeah?"
	"Okay, tilt it this way."
	"Okay."
	"Press hard, but don't snap it."
	"Done."
	"Now bring it down like this." SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!
	"Like this?" SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!
	"Exactly."
	The rest of the class, meanwhile, had the usual reactions of plugging
ears, gritting teeth, and collapsing from pain.
	"Now that I have your attention..."

[edit]

	Jane headed to the school door. "I wouldn't suggest complaining about
the past," she mumbled.
	"What are you talking about?" asked Daria as her friend opened the
door.
	In the lobby was her entire English class. "SMILE!" they shouted.
	"Why? Am I on Candid Camera?" asked Daria.
	"No, silly," scoffed Kevin. "We're trying out the direct approach."
	"Huh?"
	"Well, Daria," said Jane. "I'm afraid you've influenced Mr. O'Neill
yet again on a class project."
	"Oh, God. He didn't."
	"He's offering an extra A to whoever can make you laugh."
	"Oh, God. He did." Daria calmly turned herself around and exited the
building.
	All alone now, she leaned against the wall. "Okay," she said to
herself. "Go in and face the insanity of the class, or skip school and face
the insanity of my parents later..." Noting that she had to live with her
parents for at least two more years, and at least school had summers and
holidays off, she decided to face her class. But luckily for the time being,
they had all gone to their separate homerooms after the bell.
	She made her way to her own homeroom, knowing that this day was going
to be one of the stupidest she's ever had.

[edit]

	"I am going to talk to Mr. O'Neill," Daria explained to Jane. "And
then I shall calmly kill him. Twice."
	"It shouldn't be that bad," Jane sorted through her locker. "Lawndale-
ites don't hold much interest in school activities for long."
	"Even for an extra grade with supposedly little effort?"
	Jane was rescued from answering as Kevin ran up. "Heeeeeey, Daria!"
	"Whaaaaaaaaaat, Kevin?" she replied.
	"Well, y'know, I gotta keep my C-average for football up, soooooo..."
	"You want to use me for an extra grade with supposedly little effort?"
	"Yeah!"
	Daria simply gave a glance to Jane.
	Kevin continued. "So, uh, what would make you laugh?"
	"Seeing your popularity plummet as soon as you left high school, where
you have no other abilities than football. You remain too scrawny to keep
up with the National League, so you never make it to the big times. After
several illegitimate children with Brittany, she leaves you and your one-
room apartment, which is strictly furnished of various objects found in
miscellaneous alleys. Your lack of intellect shall keep you from landing
a consistent job, and you are soon evicted. Filthy and unshaven, you roam
the streets begging for mere pocket change from strangers. Meanwhile, I
will be a distinguished writer and freelance columnist that would one day
cross one of your streets, and I would drop cents into your used Cambell's
Soup can. You would be thanking me; me, the formerly unpopular one. I would
continue on my way until you were out of sight. Then... *then* I would have
the best laugh known to man... That answer your question?"
	"Um," stuttered Kevin. "Actually I was hoping to do something before
the end of the quarter."
	"Oh. Sorry, then. No."
	"There's gotta be something."
	BRRRRRRRRRIIIING!

	Art class. Usually the only relaxing class. Usually.
	"If I can just hold out till English and explain to O'Neill how stupid
this is I'll be set," Daria reassured half to herself, half to Jane.
	"Knowing your genetic survival techniques?" questioned Jane. "No way,
Morgendorffer; you're goin' down."
	"Thank you, best friend."
	The class was drawing a set still-life from charcoal. Brittany, much
to her dismay, couldn't keep the crap off her fingers, which somehow found
its way all over her face as well.
	Brittany slid over a piece of paper to Daria. She looked at it; it was
simply a rough recreation of the smiley "have a nice day" face.
	"Wow, Brittany," said Daria with mock enthusiasm. "You spent forty
minutes of class on this? My."
	"Well?" Brittany urged. "Ha ha?"
	Daria's eyes moved back and forth. "Well, it's pathetic, yes, but not
laughably so."
	"No. Seeing something happy is supposed to make *you* happy."
	"Ohhhhhh," Daria pretended to finally comprehend. "But something
that's also drawn on my sister's favorite shirt isn't about to bring me any
smiles."
	"Unless it was in a bonfire," added Jane.
	"I'm not sure if I could burn it after working so hard on it," said
Brittany. "... But I need that 'A'."
	Daria gave Jane a look and sighed.

*

[Tom]
TOM: Now, folks, I'd like to get serious for a moment... No, wait. I don't.
     Never mind.

[Daria & Jane]
JANE: Who's the chubby guy with the big, super fansite?
BOTH: Pollard!
JANE: That Pollard is one bad--
DARIA: Shut your mouth.
JANE: I'm only talkin' `bout Martin.
DARIA: I can dig it.

[Kevin & Brittany]
KEVIN: Oh, that guy! I wrote a song about him. Ahem.
[He gets up and kinda-sorta dances.]
KEVIN: o/` When other sites have next to nothing, whose has the most?
           Whose website of fics and stuff goes by the name of Outpost?
           Who points at nothing in particular then takes your fries when
       you're not lookin'?
           Who has a special love for any Italian cookin'?
           It's... o/` Uh... it's...
BRITTANY: Martin.
KEVIN: o/` It's Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin...

[Daria & Jane]
DARIA: Yes, Martin J. Pollard. The author who took the world by storm by his
       loads of fiction, heaping to gigantic amounts of one.

[Tom]
TOM: Yes, uno. Singular sensation. The loneliest number you'll ever do...
     Well, actually, one and a half. There *was* the mysterious "And Baby
     Makes Three"...

[Fashion Club]
QUINN: Yeah, a sequel to my personal hell *was* in the works...
SANDI: Oh, yeah, like getting beaten up by your co-star or whatever was all
       fun for me.

[Helen & Jake]
HELEN: You see, it wasn't just about Quinn's recovery, but... uh...
[They fidget.]
JAKE: Yeah, well... y'see... um... heh...
HELEN: Well... yeah... 
JAKE: And... yeah.
HELEN: Yeah.
JAKE: Look for yourself.

*

[Lost fiction: And Baby Makes Three]
GOOD TIME CHINESE RESTAURANT
Two Weeks Later

"So, that's how it's been these past few weeks," Helen explained. She was
having lunch with several of her female co-workers from Vitale, Davis,
Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter & Schrecter. "During the day,
Quinn's been doing nothing but sitting around in her bedclothes, watching
trash talk shows and those horrid video channels, and at night she can
usually be counted on to wake up screaming from a nightmare about her
attack." She took a sip from her glass of water. "She's back on solid food
again but doesn't eat much, she rarely takes calls, and when she does talk
it's in monosyllables. Honestly, I'm getting worried about her."

"I sympathize, Helen," said Judy Davis, daughter of one of the senior
partners. "It must be rough on your family."

Helen nodded, then let out a wistful smile. "Actually, the one bright spot
in all this has been my oldest daughter, strangely enough. Daria is the only
person Quinn will talk to for any length of time; they've never been
closer." She sighed. "But yes, it's been difficult. Especially on Jake. He
still can't get over the incident, and ever since then he's been moody and
emotional ... well," she amended, "more moody and emotional than usual."

"It's that bad?" asked Paula Klein, one of the paralegals. When Helen's only
reply was a depressed sigh, Paula offered, "Well, you know if there's
anything I can do..."

"I appreciate it, Paula," Helen said resignedly, "but this is something I
have to work out for myself. I just wish I knew what to do about it. Our
marriage hasn't exactly been on the best footing ever since the girls were
born, and now... well, let's just say that not even that British girl band
would be enough to get the spice back into it."

"Really?" Judy said with some surprise. "How long has it been since... you
know..."

"You know that Alternapalooza thing that came through the area a little
while back?"

Both Judy's and Paula's eyebrows disappeared into their bangs as their faces
took on a shocked look. "Helen, that was over a year ago!" Paula exclaimed.

The resigned look on Helen's face got deeper. "Has it been that long...?"
she said lamely.

"My God," Paula breathed, still unable to fathom it. She then broke out in a
sly grin. "You know, Helen, I just may have your ticket back to Spiceville."
She cocked her eyebrow. "You interested?"

"I guess," Helen said warily.

Paula leaned over towards Helen in a conspiratorial fashion. "This is what
you do: get the girls out of the house for the weekend – preferably on
Friday – then prepare the house for a little 'weekend rendezvous.' You know,
candles, soft music, champagne, the works." She reached into her purse and
pulled out a small bottle. "Then, you slip him one of these babies..."

She held out her hand, in which sat a small blue pill. Helen looked at it,
uncomprehending for a moment. Then she finally got it. "Is that what I think
it is?" she said, shocked.

"Yup," Paula grinned. "Good ol' Viagra. Best invention since PMS for getting
your way with a man. Anyway, with Arthur working all those late hours, how
else do you think we're able to keep things rocking?"

"But all those news reports... isn't it supposed to be dangerous for some
men?"

Paula dismissed Helen's concern with a wave of her hand. "Ah, those reports
are exaggerated; never underestimate the media's ability to boost its
ratings any way it can. Besides, I figure that only people with heart
trouble would be in any serious danger. Jake doesn't have a history of heart
problems, does he?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Helen replied. She almost mentioned the
unbelievably high stress that Jake was always under, but the part of her
that wanted – no, needed – this solution kept her from saying it.

Paula sat back. "Well, then, you shouldn't have any problems." She shook a
few more tablets out of the bottle, then handed them to Helen. "Just put one
in his glass of champagne and let it dissolve. Then... well, no need for me
to go into detail," she grinned.

But Helen was only partially listening to her. She sat and stared at the
handful of pills sitting in her palm, unable to believe that she was
actually considering Paula's plan. She then thought about how her life and
her marriage had been going over the years... and made her decision.

                                  * * * * *

7:00am. The alarm clock on the floor next to her bed began screaming, and
Daria quickly reached down to silence it. She groaned as she climbed out of
bed, not wanting to face another typical Monday of non-learning at Lawndale
High School – not after the night she just had – but nevertheless threw on
her robe and trudged out of the bedroom. She stopped at the linen closet to
get a towel; throwing it over her shoulder, she headed to the bathroom to
perform her morning ritual... and found the door closed.

Puzzled, she knocked on the door. "Just a minute!" came a voice from inside:
it was Helen. Daria waited, and swore she could hear her mother coughing...
and was that retching she heard? Finally, after what seemed like forever,
Daria heard the toilet flush. "You can come in now," Helen announced.

Daria opened the door and stepped inside, to an unusual sight: Helen, still
in her nightgown, sitting on the lowered toilet seat and looking absolutely
dreadful. "Are you okay, Mom?" she asked. "Normally you'd be dressed for
work by now, and I could swear I heard you throwing up or something."

Helen waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, it's nothing, sweetie," she said,
putting on a cheerful face and only being partially successful. "It's
probably just some bad seafood from the dinner your father and I went to the
other night. I'll be all right."

"You sure?" Daria asked, and Helen nodded. "In that case, do you mind if I
take my shower now? You haven't been in the same room while I've bathed
since I was a baby, and I think this is one tradition that should remain
buried in the past."

Helen chuckled. "Sorry, honey," she said. Getting up, she left the bathroom
and closed the door as her daughter began to prepare for her shower. Daria,
her back turned, never saw the worried look on her mother's face.

*

[Tom]
TOM: Well, folks, it's about that time to close up shop. I'll miss every one
     of you. But what does the future hold for Daria fiction, you may ask?

     See Jane star in the title role in the first ever Daria comic book,
     "Jane Insane!"

     See Jane in a crossover with the first known Downtown fanfiction!
[Daria pops her head into view.]
DARIA: See Jane offer Tom a reasonable bribe.

[Ext. anonymous alley.]
[The scene is taken from an overhead security cam. Jane hands Tom a wad of
bills.]
JANE: Remember, don't stop plugging my works. I'll show `em how
      "unflappable" I really am.
TOM: Gotcha.

[Back to the living room set.]
[Tom stares at the camera a for a stunned moment.]
TOM: ...Uh... Okay! Outta time! Good night, everybody!

[End Credits:]

Daria: "Behind the Glasses"

Compiled by:
John Berry

Writers & contributors:
John Berry
Canadibrit
Austin Covello
Ian Cunningham
Rey T. Fox
Diane Long
Martin J. Pollard
John Takis
Kara Wild

[Fade out of credits to a darkened set. Upchuck sits alone.]
UPCHUCK: ...Okay... I'm ready for my interview now... It's alright, I'm
         patient... Okay...

[Fade out]

"Daria" & characters ©1999 MTV