Note: Okay, this little story takes place right after Season Two, so pretend you haven't seen "Through A Lens Darkly" and "Speedtrapped" yet. C'mon! Use those imaginations!

Acknowledgements: Thanks for everyone who has patiently waited for the last nine months for me to finish this. I've never known Writer's Block on this scale. I've pushed this thing aside a number of times, and said any number of times that I've given up on it. Well, it's finished, now.

Legal Stuff: "Daria" and all related characters are copyright and TM of MTV and VIACOM. The following is a work of parody, created solely for the Author's personal amusement, for the purpose of learning the method of writing a teleplay, for the purpose of making fun of the way we all have to learn to drive, and not for any commercial purpose whatsoever. The Author does not wish nor intend to do any of the wonderful creative people at MTV Animation out of any part of their market, as he respects the hard work, dedication, and Old-world craftsmanship they put into each and every show. See Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music 510 U.S. 569 (1994).

All rights not belonging to MTV or VIACOM, their successors, or assigns, are reserved by the Author of this parody.

Production Note: I've ditched a lot of the frills I used to add to my stuff in order to write it faster. It's also easier to edit this way. You'll also notice that I've cut down on a lot of the camera angles. I've only used them when I felt it was absolutely necessary to preserve my vision. Or something. The notes are a little bare right now, but I'm sure they'll fill out as you ask questions. If you have any questions, (or if you want to hire me as a writer <g>), please email me.

Roll Intro. to Daria in "Jalopy."

ACT I

FADE IN.

Int. -- Morgendorffer Family Room. -- Christmas Day -- Morning.

WS of the Family Room. A large Christmas tree is in the center of the room, with one large pile of presents, and three small piles. Helen, Jake, Quinn, Daria are sitting around the tree on the sofa, talking.

Quinn, these are yours (points to largest pile), and Daria, these are yours.

Helen hands Daria three wrapped boxes from the smaller pile.

I got you precisely what you specified as to size, color, and designer, Quinn.

Thanks, Mom. You did buy these at Cashman's, right? I mean, you know, in case they don't fit or something.

Yes, Quinn, and I have the receipts, too. Just in case.

Three boxes? Hmm. (Opens first box.) Oh, good, The Complete Anatomy of the Human Skull. That could come in handy someday. (Opens second box.) Oh, thanks, the Compact Oxford English Dictionary, with magnifying glass. (Opens third box. Looks down at it.) Hmm. (Lifts out a key chain that says "Daria.") Okay, what gives? (Looks suspiciously at Helen and Jake.)

Helen and Jake smile at each other.

Well, dear, we thought that since you're already 16, and you had driver's ed in Highland, you're entitled to have your own car.

Excuse me?

You know, an older car, a fixer-upper! It'll be great!

Of course you'll have to retake drivers' ed here -- they won't accept your Highland credits here, but don't worry, we've already scheduled you in for some lessons at the local driving school! And your father and I will help you practice for your driving test. That is, of course, if it's okay with you.

I only get this, and she gets a car? That's not fair!

Now, Quinn, we always spend equally on you two, just to prevent that sort of thing. Besides, you're too young to drive. Now, Daria, classes start tomorrow-- so if you want to take advantage of this offer, you might as well take advantage of it now, because your next chance won't be till summer.

Great. More school. That's quite a present, Mom. Let me check my busy calendar first. (Beat.) Okay, okay, let's get this over with. (Hands Jake a wrapped box.) By the way, Dad, this is for you.

Jake opens the box and smiles.

Oh, look, stress management tapes! (Looks at cover, which says, "Primal Scream Therapy for the Busy Commuter.") Thanks, kiddo!

And Mom, this is for you.

Daria hands Helen another wrapped box. Helen opens the box and smiles.

Oooh, "The Busy Executive's Guide to Microwave Cooking!" Thank you, sweetheart.

Don't mention it. Just do me a favor, please?

What, sweetie?

The next time you want to give me the gift of education, how about a college fund instead?

Helen and Jake look at each other, and each looks a little guilty.

Int. -- Jane's Bedroom -- Day -- A few hours later.

XCU of TV showing a Monster Truck chasing some guy in overalls through a mud bog.

Maniacal monster trucks with murderous minds of their own, next on Sick Sad World!

CUT TO MS of Daria and Jane. Daria, as usual, is sitting on the edge of Jane's bed. Jane is painting a Christmas tree with giant teeth and blood-red eyes, devouring mall denizens like so many M&Ms.

So, instead of a normal, quiet, Christmas break, I get to spend more time in a classroom having more pointless information inflicted on me.

Well, don't look at it like that -- think about it as a small price to pay to get your freedom.

Freedom? Please. They already told me that I have to pay for my own insurance, gas, and repairs. Not to mention that it's a graduated license-- I can only drive from 7AM till 7PM for the first year.

Oh, come on, it's only for a year, and you'll have your own wheels, so you can drive far, far away from here.

That's what you think. It's really just an easy way for them to stick me with a curfew without calling it one.

Yeah, but think about it-- the open highway, the wind blowing through your hair...

Oh, sure, but think about all of the money this thing's gonna cost me. It means that I'd have to get some sort of stupid and demeaning part-time job just to pay the bills to drive the car to get to the stupid job. And that's not the worst part.

And that is?

You know that my mom would make me become Quinn's chauffeur.

Scary.

Tell me about it.

Well, at least you'll have a car to drive to college.

Yeah, that's the one bright point. I get to pick the car, but it has to be within their price range.

Which is?

Around $500.

Oh. Well, I bet you could get something really cool for that, like a junky old convertible. That could be very cool.

Only if getting rained on is cool. C'mon, Jane, it's $500. The only convertible I could afford would be one that had holes in the roof.

Hey, I know-- why not get one at a police auction?

I dunno-- a squad car? The bulletproof glass might be nice, but the last thing I need is something that attracts even more attention.

Well, you could always hire yourself out as a private security force. But I was thinking about the kind that was repoed from a drug dealer or something. You know, something cool.

Yeah. I'd really like my rebate in the trunk. (Beat.) Well, whatever it is, I'm not too worried. What did you get?

The usual. Art supplies.

Well, at least you got something useful.

A car isn't useful?

Of course a car's useful, if you can afford to own one. But if you're someone who isn't interested in a humiliating job solely for the purpose of paying for a car, then it isn't so useful anymore. How does that saying go? "Beware of geeks bearing gifts?"

Boy, Daria, you're the only person I know who can take something like getting a car and turn it into a problem.

I blame it on my past experiences with my family.

Ext. -- Lawndale Driving School -- Day -- A Few Days Later.

WS of outside of school. Hold for a second, then...

Int. -- Lawndale Driving School -- Day -- A Few Seconds Later.

Mr. Jones, the instructor, stands in front of a blackboard and a video cart. The most noticeable thing about him is that he tends to flinch a lot.

Good morning, class. Welcome to the Lawndale Driving School. I'm Mr. Jones, and I'll be your instructor for the next week. I will tell you what the rules of the road are, and show you a few gratuitously gruesome films, as per state law. Then we'll also have some driving lessons behind the wheel. (A nervous tic on one side of his face starts jumping around.) Any questions? (Beat.) Good, let's begin. First, a video.

Mr. Jones pops a video into the VCR, and hits play. Mr. Jones then walks over to his desk and starts reading a book on stress management.

Cut to XCU TV. The title of the black and white video with film damage, "The Last Prom," comes up, as some very cheesy violins play sober 50s-style dramatic introductory music.

The last prom? That's wishful thinking.

A man wearing a hat and a trenchcoat stands near a flipped-over and partially-crushed and smoldering '57 Chevy.

Tragedies such as this can be avoided. Ted and Mary should never have been killed in this wreck. Frank is now in a coma, and Alice lost a leg. Let's find out how this terrible tragedy ruined the lives of four teens just trying to enjoy their prom night.

That was their first mistake.

Int. Frank's House -- Day -- A Few Hours Earlier.

MS of Frank, who looks more like he's in his late 20's than a teenager, with his 50's buzz cut and button down shirt, talking on an old black rotary phone to Ted.

Hey, Ted, it's me, Frank.

Cut to SS of Frank and Ted.

Hi, Frank. What's new?

Well, Alice and I were wondering if you and Mary wanted to double to the prom. I've got my dad's new Chevy -- it's one of the '57s!

Sounds keen! See you at 7.

Cut to CU of Daria. (IN COLOR)

That must be some weird kind of prom if they invite 30-year-old actors.

Cut to MS of Daria and Stacy. Both are watching the movie.

Look at me, Frank, I'm the king of the world!

Watch it, Ted, I can't see when you do that!

Look out! Aaaaah!

The sound of a very large crash is heard, as Daria and Stacy wince. Daria and Stacy look back at the screen, as the sound of another crash is heard. Stacy winces again. A "thump thump thump" sound is heard, and Stacy starts to turn green.

That had to hurt.

Remember, a car is not a toy. You must always be careful when operating a motor vehicle. Don't let what happened to Alice, Ted, Frank, and Mary happen to you.

The room lights come up.

Okay class, what lessons can we learn from their misfortune? (Beat. Looks at list of names.) Daria?

That Ted and Frank are idiots, Alice and Mary shouldn't've gone out with morons like them in the first place, and that the gene pool is probably a bit better off because of the accident.

Oh, come now, Daria, isn't this a tragic waste?

Yes. That was 10 minutes that none of us are getting back. But there is a bright side to this whole mess.

Really?

You can at least reuse the tape.

But wasn't this a tragic outcome from such reckless behavior?

Look, if it hadn't been a car wreck, one of these idiots would've been killed by tipping a Coke machine on himself. It's a simple case of self-selection. Nature is red of tooth and claw, Mr. Jones. Who are we to stand in her way and interfere with her methods?

Well, that's an, um, interesting point of view, but what theme is the film trying to convey to us?

Hm. (Beat.) How about, thanks to modern safety regulations, like those requiring seat belts and air bags, and due to the replacement of solid steel dashboards with crushable plastics, your car isn't the fiery deathtrap that your parents joyrided around in until someone lost an appendage? And hey, if you're really digging for a silver lining, well, you can remove the dent Ted's head made in the dashboard with a good set of steel hammers.

Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom!

Stacy runs out of the scene.

Well. Um, thank you for your interesting, if somewhat macabre, insights Daria. (Beat. Mr. Jones takes a deep breath.) Now, class, we will begin a discussion on the rules of the road.

Mr. Jones points to a chart of traffic signs on the wall with a pointer.

FADE TO: Progression of CU Shots of Daria sitting at her desk. Daria is getting sleepier and sleepier, and slouching forward a little bit more in each shot, as Mr. Jones lectures unintelligibly in the background.

Int. Driving School -- Day -- About An Hour Later.

We will resume our discussion of right of way at a four way stop sign after a ten-minute break.

The students' heads pop up as they assume a more alert mental state. Most of them file out, but Daria stays in her seat. Daria shakes her head briefly, as if to shake herself awake. She pulls out a copy of On The Beach and starts reading it. Stacy approaches Daria.

On The Beach? Is that about swimwear?

Yeah, it's a great little fashion guide to figuring out what colors go well with suppurating radiation burns after a global nuclear holocaust.

Stacy looks green again, and runs back out of the scene, with her hand to her mouth.

Ext. -- Lawndale Driving School Parking Lot and Confidence Course -- Day -- A Few Hours Later.

Mr. Jones is standing in front of a boxy orange car with a bright red sign on top that says "CAUTION: STUDENT DRIVER" on it in yellow letters. He's starting to flinch a little more.

Now, ladies, we will drive this car on a specially-designed confidence course in order to get you accustomed to the controls of a motor vehicle. If you go too fast, I will use the extra brake pedal on my side to slow us down and prevent our premature and probably gruesome deaths. Any questions?

Do we have to drive such an ugly car? I mean, orange doesn't go with anything! And that sign. It's sooo ugly!

Yeah, and why is it so... boxy?

Remember, these cars are supposed to be safe, not stylish.

Well, I don't think much of their sense of style. I wouldn't be caught dead in that thing! Orange is sooo over!

That's the idea, young lady, that's the idea.

Why do I still do this? No amount of money is worth this.

If it's any consolation, remember that we're in a parking lot. Nobody you know will see us. Now, Daria, get behind the wheel. You two, get in back.

Cut to MS of windshield, POV hood. Daria gets behind the wheel, Mr. Jones gets in on the passenger side. Stacy and Tiffany crawl in back, sulking.

Okay, Daria, start the car and proceed along the course. Stay between the cones, and please, don't go too fast.

Cut to WS of car, moving steadily along the course, not hitting any cones.

Cut back to MS of windshield.

Excellently done, Daria. Now, Stacy, switch places with Daria.

Cut back to WS of Car. Stacy and Daria get out and switch places.

Cut back to MS of windshield.

Now, Stacy, put the car into drive and slowly release the brake ped-- AAAHHH!

Cut to CU of rear tire. It spins, squeals, and smokes.

Cut back to MS of windshield.

Watch it! NO! You're going too fast!

As Mr. Jones is speaking, orange cones are flying over the windshield. A cardboard cutout of a little old lady flies over the hood as well. Daria and Tiffany look on from the back seat in horror, and wince every time Stacy hits something else. Finally, the car comes to a stop. Stacy is ecstatically happy.

Wow, that was fun! How'd I do, Mr. Jones? (Turns to Mr. Jones.) Uh, Mr. Jones?

Mr. Jones is curled into a fetal position in the passenger seat, with his clipboard covering his face. He's shaking all over.

Cut to SLO-MO of Stacy running away from Daria, with her hand to her mouth. Run bumper music.

FADE OUT.

COMMERCIAL BREAK.

ACT II.

FADE IN.

Int. -- Daria's Room. -- A Few Days Later.

Daria and Jane are seated on the bed, watching TV.

You mean she managed to hit every single obstacle on the course?

I could hardly believe it myself, especially when Stacy almost drove the car right through the front door.

Scary.

About the only thing Stacy didn't run over was herself.

That would've been an interesting trick. Remind me never to drive in the same state as her.

Don't worry. I don't think she's in any danger of getting a license to drive anytime soon. Unless, of course, you're talking about demolition derby. You should've seen the instructor. His foot was planted so hard on the brake that it took us 5 minutes to talk him into unclenching. I've never seen a grown man go from zero to fetal in under 10 seconds.

You must've missed Mr. O'Neill's last dramatic poetry reading.

Thank God for small favors. I believe in averting as many disasters as possible.

So, now that you're done with driver's ed, what's next?

I guess I get my learner's permit next.

Is your Mom going to help you with that?

Let's just say that I'm not going to bet money on her appearing out of nowhere to take me to the DMV office.

A knock is heard at the door.

Daria, are you in there?

Uh, yeah.

May I come in?

Uh, sure.

Helen enters the room.

Daria, I was thinking that if you're not too busy right now, why don't we run on over to the DMV and get you your learner's permit?

Wow, right out of thin air.

Mom, what are you doing here? The sun's still up.

Come on now, Daria, you know I always try to put family first. Besides, the mediation got postponed till tomorrow. Now, do you want to go or not?

I guess. (To Jane.) Wanna tag along for moral support?

Oh, yeah, I wouldn't want to miss this special moment.

Daria shoots Jane a dirty look. Jane grins.

Besides, I want to see what the DMV office actually looks like, just in case my Mom gets back from her survey of Tibetan storage jars before I turn 18.

Ext. -- Outside of the DMV Office -- Day -- A Little While Later.

Helen, Jane, and Daria walk from the parking lot up to the door.

Just remember, Daria-- there's nothing to be nervous about.

I'm not nervous.

Well, I just didn't want you to get overwhelmed by the importance of this step in your life. You're on the verge of entering a whole new world, Daria.

Mom, it's only a learner's permit.

Oh, Daria, it all starts with a learner's permit, but, before you know it, you'll be driving off to college, then out of town, and before you know it, you'll be all grown up. (Beat. Puts a hand to her chest, looks a little misty.) It all just happens too quickly!

Mom, relax. I promise that I'll leave you a note when I elope with that biker I've had my eye on.

Daria, you may not understand now, but you will when you have kids of your own.

Well, Mom, I guess if you really want me to have kids that badly, I can always drop out of high school and finally make my dream of becoming a common law wife come true. And I'm sure Skunk would love to have a little Skunk Jr. around to help at the bar, especially during the fights on Bikers Drink Free Night.

Oh, never mind.

Helen pushes open the door to the DMV office. Jane and Daria lag behind a little.

Nice trick.

Thanks. Sometimes you have to give them a little reality check.

Int. -- DMV Office -- Day -- A Few Seconds Later.

Daria, Jane, and Helen walk up through a pair of vinyl ropes and wait for a few seconds, while a DMV OFFICER is writing at his desk. He looks up at Daria, Jane, and Helen.

Can I help you?

I'd like my daughter to get her learner's permit.

Okay, I'll just need to see her driver's ed certificate, her birth certificate, and $10, please.

Alright, here you go.

Helen hands over the documents.

Okay, Daria, have a seat here, remove your glasses, and look into this machine here.

Okay.

Daria sits down at the machine and stares into it.

Cut to shot of a big dark blur, as seen through the machine by Daria.

Ok, Daria, what do you see?

A big dark blur.

Cut to shot of a big bright blur, as seen through the machine by Daria.

Ok, what do you see now?

A big bright blur.

Okay, you can put your glasses back on.

Daria puts her glasses back on.

Now what?

Look in the machine again and tell me what you see on the third line.

Daria leans forward and looks into the machine.

I see a red square, a blue triangle, and a green hexagon. (Beat.) Wait a minute. Where are the letters? Does this mean that you don't have to be literate to drive?

Yep. Fourth line?

A yellow star, a green square, an orange triangle, and a leprechaun.

Huh?

Sorry. It must've been all of those multicolored shapes. I couldn't resist.

Would you like to be an organ donor?

Is that a threat?

No, it's just a hobby I have. (Beat.) Sorry. Couldn't resist.

Okay, put me down for 'Yes' for ordinary people, but 'No' for popular people.

Okay, let's go get your picture made, and then you'll be ready to go.

DMV Officer looks through the camera.

Okay, now, Daria, smile on the count of three.

I don't do smile.

Okay, well, do whatever then on the count of three. (Sighs.) Teenagers.

Excuse me?

A flash goes off as DMV Officer snaps the picture.

Sorry, occupational hazard. (Beat. Grins.) Drive safely, and don't let your parents drive you too crazy while they "instruct" you.

Come on, girls, let's get out of here.

Int. -- Morgendorffer Kitchen -- Night.

Another Morgendorffer dinner.

Jake, I was thinking that since Daria has her permit now, you could take her on a few driving lessons.

Mom, I really don't...

Sure, kiddo! It'll be great! I can show you all of the secrets I've learned about surviving on the roads. (Beat. Starts getting angry as repressed memories return.) Not like how my father helped me learn to drive. No, he just cursed and yelled at me, as if I had any way of knowing how to do it right. (Pounds table.) Rotten insensitive old bastard!

Jake! Remember, you two need to start working on those lessons soon, because school starts again in a week, and we still have to go car shopping.

Mom, why are you pushing this thing so hard?

Can't a mother help her daughter get the independence she needs?

Oh, I get it; you've found someone with a crazy relative who wants to sublet my room, haven't you?

Oh, come now, Daria. We wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. (Beat.) At least until you left for college. (Gets back on topic.) Anyway, you're not busy right now, Jake, and Daria, your father could teach you some valuable lessons about driving. It'll be fun!

You're in court next week, aren't you?

With a guilty expression on her face, Helen looks away from Daria and sips her coffee.

Int. -- Jane's Room -- The Next Day.

Just when I didn't think it could get any worse, it did.

What now?

My Dad's going to teach me how to drive his way.

Is your health insurance paid up?

I hope so. I just wish they'd just leave me alone for this one vacation.

What do you mean?

Well, every Christmas vacation has turned into some sort of a project from Hell for the family. One year, Mom decided we needed to spend two weeks in a car, "doing the open road thing" so we could all bond. We got snowed in twice, Dad almost had seizures three times from road rage, and Quinn almost had a nervous breakdown from phone withdrawal. It was a nightmare on wheels that never seemed to end. Some bonding that was. Then there was the Christmas that Mom got a bug to redecorate the entire house. End result? I couldn't wash the paint off of my hands for a month, and Quinn whined the whole time about the fumes getting in her hair. And I never even want to look at wallpaper paste again. She just can't let go and let us relax like a normal family.

So why not just flunk the test-- you know, protest the whole thing, fight the power?

No, if I flunked the test, she'd probably just find some way to make me miserable until I passed. And anyway, if I pass the test, Quinn would be the only person who didn't have a real driver's license. (Grins.) That'd drive her nuts.

You can always count on the simple pleasures in life, huh?

Yep. I'll just go ahead and grit my teeth and pass this stupid test. Then, when we go car shopping, I'll just use as little of my money as possible to buy the most unreliable car I can find. Mom and Dad won't be able to say anything without appearing to interfere with my attempt to be independent, Quinn won't be able to beg rides or "borrow" my car, and I won't have to take a degrading job in order to pay gas or repair bills, because the thing will never leave the driveway. Status quo maintained, which is about as good as I can hope for. It's not like they can threaten me with not driving me anywhere, either. I walk to school, I walk to get pizza, I walk to the arcade, and I walk to the library. No involuntary curfew.

Jane shakes her head.

You know, your family is nuts.

And this is news because...?

Jane shrugs.

I just felt like restating the obvious. Your family is nuts.

Thanks for the moral support.

Don't mention it. (Gets an idea.) Hey, do you need help finding a car?

Why?

Well, I was thinking-- you could always find something really hideous, and maybe I could turn it into a piece! (Gets a far away look in her eyes.) Wow, think of the scale of it.

Easy, Michaelangelo. You can come along for the search, and, yes, I'll let you have a hand in decorating it, but I'd like something I can drive around town every once in a blue moon without drawing the raised eyebrow of every art critic in town.

Ext. -- Jake's Car -- Day -- The Next Afternoon.

Jake and Daria are seated in the car, Jake is in the passenger's seat, and Daria in the driver's seat. The car is sitting in the driveway.

Okay, now, Daria, before we get started, let's go over those rules again! What do we do when someone cuts us off?

Let's see, we yell incoherently at them?

No! We hit the brakes to avoid getting killed by the insensitive bastard, lay on the horn, then we yell at them. Now, what do we do when the light turns yellow on us?

We stop so that we don't get killed by some impatient bozo who'll floor it as soon as it turns green.

Well, yeah, I guess so.

So, Dad, what do we do at an unmarked railroad crossing when a really long train is coming, and we're late for a meeting with a really big client?

We, uh, wait for the train, even though it may cost us our jobs, I guess.

And what do we do when two lanes merge? Do we let in the nice old lady with the handicapped permit?

I didn't see her, Daria! Honest! How about we stop asking questions and start driving?

Okay, fair enough.

Daria starts the car.

Okay, now let's put 'er in reverse and eeease it out of the driveway.

Daria starts to back the car up slowly.

Wait! Wait! Stop the car!

Daria jumps and slams on the brakes. The car jerks from the sudden stop.

I almost forgot-- always remember to check your mirrors, Daria. Believe me, you never want to back up blindly, or else you might back up into some jerk's overpriced German car, and, boy, then you'll never hear the end of it.

Daria shoots Jake a dirty look, checks her mirrors, and then starts slowly backing up again.

Thaaat's right. Now, let's go to the high school parking lot. We can practice some in-town driving, then work on that parking technique!

Are you going to show me your technique for getting parking spaces at the mall during the Holidays?

Hey, I was there first. Fair's fair, after all. Now let's go for a spin!

Isn't the idea to avoid a spin?

No, what I mean is-- (Gives up.) Oh, never mind. Turn left over here.

Ext. -- Somewhere In Lawndale -- Jake's Car -- Day -- A Few Minutes Later.

Okay, Daria, the light's red, you can stop now.

I know what a red light means.

I'm sorry, honey, I was just trying to be helpful.

Dad, please give me a little credit for--

Daria! Look out!

Daria turns back just in time to slam on the brakes and avoid hitting a car in front of her, waiting at the red light. After the car stops, she shoots Jake a dirty look.

Ext. -- Lawndale High School Parking Lot -- Jake's Car -- Day -- A Few Minutes Later.

Okay, honey, let's practice that parking technique!

Okay. (Beat.) How do I do it?

Do what?

Park the car.

Oh, well, you just... um... line it up and, uh, park it.

Uh-huh. Don't know how I'd figure it out on my own.

Cut to a short montage from an aerial view of the Daria's several attempts to park the car in a space. At first, she has trouble, but by about the fourth time, she starts to get the hang of it.

Good job, Daria. I think you're ready for a real test now.

You don't mean...

Yeah, Seven Corners! I need to go by the office, anyway.

Ext. -- Seven Corners -- Jake's Car -- Day -- A Few Minutes Later.

Jake's car approaches the seven-way stop at Seven Corners. (The most confusing intersection in Lawndale.)

Okay, kiddo, ya ready?

I guess so.

Okay, now, stop first, and yield to the right. Got it?

Yep.

Okay, now wait... wait... wait... wait... wait... Go!

Um...

No! Stop! Okay, now wait... wait... wait... wait... Go!

Daria closes her eyes and floors it. The tires squeal a little. The car makes it through the intersection.

Alright! Way to go, kiddo!

Daria breathes a sigh of relief.

CUT TO SLO-MO of Jake yelling and surprising Daria while she's trying to drive as the bumper music runs.

FADE OUT.

COMMERCIAL BREAK.

ACT III.

FADE IN.

Int. -- Lane Kitchen -- Day -- A Few Days Later.

Daria and Jane are enjoying a couple of glasses of a red-looking drink. I think it's cranberry juice, but I'm not too sure.

Well, I'm glad you managed to survive those lessons with your Dad.

So'm I. I swear, though, he almost made me wreck about a dozen times.

So, when will you go for the big driving test?

Hopefully, soon. I don't think I can take much more parent-child bonding from either parent; I've reached my limit for the next six months. Which reminds me, I need to borrow your brother. Is he around?

That's an interesting way of putting it. What do you want to borrow him for?

I need a musician's perspective on something.

Really? May I ask on what?

You may ask all you want, but you aren't getting an answer. Where is he?

The last thumps I heard were coming from the general vicinity of his room, so I'm guessing he's in there. Of course, it's only 3:00, so he may not be up yet.

I'm willing to risk it. I need to talk to him while I have the chance. I'll be down in a few minutes.

Daria gets up and walks out of the kitchen.

Int. -- Lane House -- Upstairs Hall In Front of Trent's Door -- A Few Minutes Later.

Daria stands in front of the door, which has two large signs on it. One says "Biohazard," and the other says "Danger: High-Powered Laser. Do not stare into beam with remaining eye." There are also a few stickers on the door as well, with the names of groups that nobody's ever heard of. Daria knocks on the door.

Trent?

Mmmmg.

Trent? Are you awake? I need to talk to you for a minute.

Ugnnnh.

Trent? Can I come in? I really need to talk to you.

Trent opens the door. He looks like he just woke up from a 3-day "nap." "Bedhead" is an understatement in the extreme.

Mmm, hey Daria. C'mon in. What's up?

Daria enters the room and closes the door behind her. Trent sits on the edge of the bed.

Sorry to wake you, but I need your advice on buying a car.

You want advice from me on buying a car? You're a funny one. You've seen my car.

I know, that's why I need your advice.

Why?

Well, how reliable would you say your car is?

Uh, not very.

And how safe is it?

Um, again, not very.

How is it with gas?

It guzzles it.

Yep, I need your advice alright.

What for? Are you looking to buy an unreliable piece of junk for yourself?

Something like that. I need a car that runs for under $500. And it needs to look as disreputable and unsafe as possible. Now, I know absolutely nothing about cars, but I figure that if you can keep yours running, you've got to know something I don't.

I've learned a thing or two. Where do you want to look for cars?

Well, my family wants to plan some sort of great big expedition to go car shopping. What I figured we could do is go the day before and find the vehicle I need.

And what sort of vehicle is that?

Something big, ungainly, and ugly, that will convince my parents that there is no way in hell that I can get a job to pay for everything I'll need to keep it running, and something ugly and unfashionable enough to frighten Quinn away.

Trent grins.

I think I can help you with that. We'll go hit the used car lots. Tomorrow sound okay? I'm a little busy today.

Daria raises an eyebrow.

Honest. We've got a gig in a couple of hours, and I've got to get ready for it.

Okay, okay. How about tomorrow at noon?

It's a little early, but okay.

Thanks. I owe you one.

No problem.

Ext. -- A Sleazy Used Car Lot -- Day.

Daria and Trent are wandering around, looking at various cars in various stages of decay.

What about this one? It looks pretty awful.

Hm. Let me see something. (He kicks the car ever so slightly. The front bumper falls off.) Nah, it wouldn't even make it off the lot. Close, though.

They continue looking at cars, dismissing most.

What about this one?

Nah, it's too new. Anything after 1980 may have a computer in it. Believe me, you don't want a $1000 computer holding up a $500 car. Now with an older car, you can work around things when they break.

They walk along past a few more cars.

Hey, Daria, can I ask you something?

Sure.

Why didn't you ask Jane to come along?

I need someone who's unbiased.

Isn't Jane unbiased enough?

Well ... I need someone who can look at a car as a car, and not as a possible masterpiece. You know she's been itching to play with Penny's old acetylene torch set again. I don't begruge her the opportunity to create, but I will need to drive it every now and then, and I don't really see myself in a Trabant.

A Trabant?

Yeah, it's an old East German car. They don't run well when they run at all. They're hideously ugly. They're totally poisonous to the atmosphere. And among the art set, they're the hottest things on wheels. They use 'em almost like legos.

Hm. I see what you mean. You're the last person on Earth who'd want to attract too much attention to yourself.

Yep. (Daria points at a huge avocado station wagon that's marked $400.) Hey, what about this one?

Lemme check it out. (He kicks it. Nothing falls off.) Well, so far, so good. Go get a salesguy, and we can look under the hood.

Daria looks around. A Salesman in a plaid outfit is hovering about 30 feet away from them. (That's approximately 10 meters for your foreign readers.) He overhears them, and saunters over.

Can I help you, sir?

Uh, actually...

Herb's the name, by the way. You know, that wagon you're lookin' at is a real beauty. Only 2 owners, and both did all of the regular maintenance.

That's nice, but...

Not to mention that it's got all of that cargo space! You know, for any kids or pets you two might have. (Nudges Trent in the ribs and winks at him.) And even if you don't have any kids yet, it'll sure come in handy when you do!

Uh...

And it gets great mileage, too. You know, before minivans, everyone had one of these. Really useful to have around.

Look, mister, I'm not buying it--

Why not? It's a beauty! In great shape! And it's at a great price!

Let me finish. I'm not interested. (Points at an angry Daria.) She is.

Oh! Sorry, there, little lady, I didn't notice you there. So, you're interested in this beauty?

Look, all I want is to have a look at it. Can you pop the hood and start it up?

Sure! Hang on a sec.

The Salesman reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large ring of keys. He finds one, and tries to unlock the door. After a few tries, the door unlocks. He opens the door, and it makes a plaintive squeal as it opens, as if it were loath to be opened.

That squeal will attract every dog in the neighborhood.

Hey, a little WD-40 will fix that right up. In fact, you should really learn to keep a can around with a car like that. It makes life a lot easier.

I'll make a note of it.

Meanwhile, the Salesman has managed to squeeze himself into the front seat and pop the hood. Trent walks over, fiddles with the catch, and opens it. It squeals as well. He motions to the Salesman, who starts up the engine, which protests a little, but starts on the second try with a little chugging. Trent walks over to the side of the car and looks at the exhaust, then he looks at the engine and frowns.

Well? Any potential?

Hang on a sec, let me check something. (To Salesman.) Rev it a couple of times, then shut it off.

The Salesman revs the engine a few times, then shuts it off. Trent leans over the engine, and gets real close. He starts sniffing the engine.

What are you doing?

Just checking something out. (Beat. To himself.) Yep, that's what I thought. (To Daria.) Well, it passes.

What, the smell test?

Hey, nothing smells burned or broken, so it'll run good enough to get it home and park it in the driveway. It only burns a little bit of oil, so you should be okay for now. That's what you wanted, right?

Yep. It meets my criteria. (To Salesman.) Okay, you got yourself a sale. I'll come and have my parents pay for it tomorrow.

Do you want to put some money down on it first? You know, just to lock it in place?

On that car? You've got to be kidding me.

Ext. -- Same Car Lot -- Next Day.

Helen, Jake, Daria, Jane, and Quinn are all rummaging around the same car lot, looking at various vehicles in various states of (dis)repair.

Hey, Daria, look! A Trabant! These things are so cool to work on. I saw where one guy built a pyramid out of them and let them all rust.

Eww, rust? That's so last year.

Jane, as cute as it looks, in a former Communist sort of way, where on earth would I ever get spare parts?

Yeah, but who cares? It'll make a great piece of sculpture-- a real tribute to the pointlessness and futility of the Cold War. A symbol for--

Daria and Quinn both give Jane a look that says, "Oh, come on."

Oh, come on, Daria! It'll be fun! Besides didn't you say--

Jane is interrupted as Daria elbows her in the ribs.

Don't mess this up, Lane-- if you want to have anything to work on at all.

Oops. Sorry. Guess I got a little overenthusiastic.

You're forgiven. This time. (Normal tone.) As I was saying, it's truly unique and hideous, but parts are a real issue with these.

Quinn walks over to a VW Karmann Ghia.

Ooo! This one's cute!

Helen and Jake walk over to where Quinn is drooling over the Ghia.

Honey, you remember your Dad's Ghia?

My Dad never owned a Ghia.

Oh, uh, never mind. (Beat.) It's very cute, Quinn. What do you think, Daria?

Nah.

Daria walks away from the car. Quinn looks frustrated and follows her.

Daria! We've been at this all day. Why can't you just pick a decent car and be done with it?

I'll know the car I want when I see it.

They approach an 84 Buick.

Oh, this is a nice car, Daria. It looks like it's in pretty good shape.

Nope, too many parts to replace. I'm looking for something simpler

Daria walks on. Everyone else follows. They approach the green station wagon.

Now, we're talkin'.

Eww!

Perfect.

Wow. It's huge!

Are you sure you want this one, sweetie? It looks a little... unsafe.

Yep, I'm sure. This is the perfect car for me.

Yes, but--

Mom, you wouldn't want to interfere with my attempt to express my individuality, would you?

Uh, well, no, honey. You get whichever car you want.

And I want this one.

Helen looks slightly disappointed.

Hey, Mom, look on the bright side-- you'll save $100.

I don't know, Daria. I bet you'll need that extra $100 to fix this thing up enough to get it home!

If you insist.

Daria looks over at Jane and smiles a little.

Int. -- Jane's Room -- That Evening.

So, what is it you wanted to show me?

This.

Daria pulls her new driver's license out of her pocket and hands it to Jane.

Wow, congratulations. (Squints at the photo.) That is you, right?

I think so.

Just makin' sure. So, did you celebrate by driving Quinn to her date?

Ha! She refuses to even be seen standing near that car.

Well, then, mission accomplished?

Mission accomplished.

When can I start working on it?

I'm not sure. Let me get to know this beast a little first. I want to take the ol' Dragon Wagon around town a little first, and get a feel for it.

Dragon Wagon?

Daria shrugs.

It seems to fit. It's big, green, uncooperative, smokes a little, and scares off princesses.

Does it require a princess as a sacrifice to run?

No, but Quinn acted as though it did. (Beat.) Listen, I can't stay long, I've got to head on home and get some work done.

Driving or walking?

Walking, of course.

Int. -- Morgendorffer Kitchen -- A Little Later.

Helen pulls a black, smoking lasagna out of the oven and looks at it with disgust.

Damn!

Jake walks into the room to see what's wrong. Daria looks up from the kitchen table, where she's writing something.

What's wrong, honey?

Oh, I left the lasagna in the oven too long. I got caught up in a conference call, and now it's burned.

You want me to go get another one?

Actually, Daria, why don't you go?

Sure, I'd love to take the ol' wagon for a spin.

Um, actually, I was thinking you could take my car instead.

Well, if you really insist.

Helen hands her the keys.

Actually, I do. I'm not crazy about you driving that thing of yours when there are two perfectly safe cars sitting in the driveway.

As Daria turns to walk out of the room, she smiles serenely to herself.

Int. -- Morgendorffer Kitchen -- Later That Evening.

Daria walks into the kitchen with a grocery bag, and sets it on the counter. She looks around, and sees that nobody's around. She opens the door into the garage and turns on the light. (Shift POV from Kitchen to Garage.) She looks at her car, smiles quietly to herself, turns out the light and closes the door.

FADE OUT.

ROLL CREDITS to "Road To Nowhere" by the Talking Heads.

NOTES:

Thank God I've finally finished this. You have no idea how tough it was to work on this one at times.

Why do the Morgendorffers celebrate Christmas? Well, why not? I've always seen them as representatives of the generic suburban family-- I'm not making any statements about their religion, just that they happen to celebrate Christmas like many other suburban families. (Besides, it's a cartoon.) I guess they could celebrate Saturnalia or the Solstice if you want-- it's just easier to follow convention.

The book about the Anatomy of the Human Skull is an inside joke with some friends of mine. Yes, I actually did get a Compact OED for Christmas last year. I've always wanted one.

I didn't do driver's ed in high school-- I had too many other obligations, so I went to a private driving school. It's much weirder.

Mr. Jones' name comes from the Talking Heads song of the same name. I was sitting there, wondering what in the hell to call this guy, and suddenly I heard David Byrne singing "Mr. Jones" in my head. Weird. Actually, I had originally used Mr. DeMartino, but ditched that idea early on. Getting rid of him made this a whole lot easier to write. As an hommage to the Talking Heads, I changed the song over the credits to "Road To Nowhere." (I had originally gone with "Drive," by the Cars, but, well, it just didn't ring very well with the fic.)

Yes, I really did see a film in driver's ed called "The Last Prom." Yes, it was very bad. The bit about the Coke machine comes from the Darwin awards.

I wrote the gags about Stacy's bad driving habits many months ago. In fact, I haven't changed any of them at all, so, no, it's not a play on Austin Covello's "Death of Stacy" fic, it's just a coincidence.

Tibetan storage jars-- an hommage to Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Skunk-- yeah, I know, that one comes right out of Daria's Database, but I really like the name "Skunk." Hm, maybe if I ever have kids, I'll name one "Skunk."

Yes, that is Happy Herb. What the hey?

I wanted to use Seven Corners, too. But a wreck there has already been done. I thought about using Halcyon Hills as a gag-- the glare could've blinded Daria for a second or two, but then I realized that that wouldn't go anywhere funny, so I didn't.

I know I skipped Daria's driving test. Why? Artistic license. Besides, the test is almost anticlimactic in my eyes. The fun part is dealing with your parents.

I'm sure there are other questions you may have. Email me if you need them answered.