Pop Goes the Weasel
by:  Candi Gliniecki
silvercandi@hotmail.com

Summary:  Mystik Spiral gets the opportunity to have a record deal with a "big
professional" label.  Meanwhile, Quinn runs for Fashion Club president.

{Scene 1:  Daria and Jane are walking home from school.}

Daria:  Therefore, I will never drive a vehicle that's named after an animal.

Jane:  Good point.  {furrows her brow in mock thought}  Is "Harley Davidson"
an animal?

Daria:  That depends on whom you ask.

{As Daria and Jane approach the Lane household, screams and cheers can be
heard.}

Jane:  Trent must've found his brain again.

Daria:  Either that or someone brought Jimi Hendrix back from the dead.

{Trent, Jesse, Max, and Nick run one after the other and start jumping around,
excited.}

Max:  Oh!  I can't believe it, guys!

Jesse:  Rad!

Nick:  This is beyond my wildest dreams!  We'll be millionaires!

Trent:  I knew this would happen some day.  {He grins to the guys.  Then he
notices Jane and Daria for the first time.}  Oh, hi, Sis.  Hi, Daria.  We've
got some exciting news...

Max:  {ruining Trent's built up suspense}  We got a record deal!  No cheesy
thing either this time.  It's the REAL deal!

Nick:  Yeah.  Like the professionals.

Max:  We ARE professionals.

Daria:  {aside to Jane} Professionally gullible.

Jane:  {aside to Daria}  More like professionally desperate.

Trent:  Well, we didn't actually sign the contract yet, but that's ALL we have
to do.  So...what do you think?

Jane:  That's wonderful.  What do YOU think, Daria?

Daria:  {deadpan}  Yeah.  Terrific.

Nick:  What are we hanging around here for?  We should be out celebrating!
{Nick, Max, Trent, and Jesse all run to the Tank and speed away.}

Jane:  {calling after the van with hands cupped around mouth for emphasis}
Don't spend that entire $1.50 in one place!  {brings down hands and smiles}  A
record deal.  I can't believe it.  {shakes her head}  Trent's always wanted
this.

Daria:  What record label is this?  How do you know they're not just trying to
take advantage of the wishful thinking of four extremely gullible young men?

Jane:  {glares at Daria}  You could be a little supportive for once.  Even if
it is, at least Trent's happy.  I thought that'd make you happy too.

Daria:  Happy.  {pause}  Happy.  {mock confusion}  I think I remember what
happy is.  {smirks}  Do you think you could explain it to me again?

Jane:  {smiles again}  You're hopeless.

{Scene 2:  Daria's house.  The Morgendorffers are all in the kitchen enjoying
take out Chinese.  Helen is in the middle of a cell-phone conversation.}

Helen:  {to phone}  Of course I'm willing to pay for gas money.  I wasn't
implying that I thought the mileage you put on that car isn't business
related.

Jake:  {playing with his food}  I wonder why they call it "egg foo young."
Why not "egg foo old"?

Daria:  Because the "egg foo middle-age" might have a nervous breakdown and
run away with the almond boneless chicken.

Helen:  {to phone}  Yes, I understand.  I UNDERSTAND.

Quinn:  Dad, do you think you could give me some honest advice?

Jake:  {trying to sound fatherly}  I'll do my best, Quinn.

Quinn:  Well, I'm not sure if you'll be able to relate to this because you
were never a girl and you like were probably never as popular either.
Besides, you went to military school and all so you wouldn't really run into
situations like this.  Then you never...

Jake:  {interrupts}  What's your question?

Helen:  {to phone}  Good night.  I'll see you in the office tomorrow.  {hangs
up phone}

Quinn:  Oh good!  Mom, I need your advice on something.

Jake:  How come no one ever wants MY advice?  I'm a consultant!  That's what I
do!  Give advice to people who need advice!  But do people ever listen?  Oh
no!  Never to Jake!

Helen:  {to Jake} Give it a rest, Jake.  {to Quinn} What do you want advice
on, Quinn?

Quinn:  {hesitates}  Do you think I could be *president* of the Fashion Club?

{sinister music plays in background}

Daria:  I don't know...are you sure you could handle something as important as
the high school Fashion Club?

Helen:  {gives Daria "the look"}  You sure seem to have all the qualifications
to be the perfect Fashion Club president.  I don't see why not.

Quinn:  Stacy thinks I can, but I think Sandi will get really angry.

Daria:  Hell, if Stacy thinks it's possible, it's gotta be a sure thing.

Helen:  {gives Daria a deeper "look"}  Don't let Sandi stop you from achieving
your goals in life.  I'm sure she'll understand.

Quinn:  I hope so.  It will look so good on my college applications or
whatever.

Daria:  Why settle for National Honor Society when you can be president of the
Fashion Club?

{Scene 3:  A very tired Daria in a nightshirt is lying on her bed writing
something surrounded by a bunch of books.  The television is on.  It's dark
outside.}

{Cut to TV screen showing a growing, pulsating cotton plant.}

Sick Sad World:  Cotton...the fabric of our lives?  Make that the fabric of
our DEATHS!!!  Textile torture, next on Sick Sad World...

{Cut back to Daria's room.}

Daria:  {Gets up off her bed and turns of the television.  She shoves all the
books off her bed, turns off the light, then lies down.}  Good night, cruel
world.

{20 second pause while Daria is supposedly falling asleep.}

Phone:  RRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGG.

Daria:  {puts pillow over head}  Someone get that.

Helen:  {off-screen}  Daria!  It's for you!  Tell whomever it is they
shouldn't be calling you so late at night.  You need your rest for school.

Daria:  {grumbles}  My beauty sleep.  {picks up phone, to Helen}  I got it,
you can hang up!  {She waits for the click.  into phone}  Hello?

Voice on Phone:  Hi!  We, uh, need...hey!  {shuffling sounds}

Second Voice on Phone:  Is this Daria?  Can you, uh....  What I mean is...

Daria:  Who the hell is this?

{Switch to split-screen.  On the right half is Daria.  On the left, Nick
(Second Voice on Phone) is holding the phone, and Max (Voice on Phone) is
standing eagerly over his shoulder.  Trent walks in with a mug of coffee.}

Trent:  You called her NOW?  Gimme that.  {grabs receiver}  Hello, Daria?
This is Trent.  I'm sorry if we woke you up.  I didn't think Max would call
you right this second.

Max:  Sorry.

{Mystik Spiral half of split-screen focuses on Trent.}

Daria:  I wasn't in bed yet anyway.

Trent:  Cool.  {long pause}  We need to ask you a favor.

Daria:  What kind of favor?

Trent:  Well, our new manager...

Daria:  {interrupts}  I didn't know you had a manager.

Trent:  {ignores Daria}  thinks a few of our songs need a little more
{dramatic pause} power.

Daria:  And what do I have to do with this additional {dramatic pause} power?
{Daria looks at the clock.  It's a little after midnight.  She rolls her eyes,
annoyed.}

Trent:  I think I remember Jane saying something about you playing an
instrument.

Daria:  {distressed}  Oh, no!  Not the flute!  I refuse.  Besides, I doubt I'd
remember any of it from that one year I learned it back in 5th grade.

Trent:  Could you try?  Please?

Max, Nick, and Jesse:  {off-screen}  Please?

Daria:  I don't think a flute would add the {dramatic pause} power you need.

Trent:  {gentle, soothing}  I think it'd sound beautiful.  I'm sure YOU could
play the little bit we need.

Daria:  {flattered, but not about to be suckered into playing flute again}
Actually, I don't even OWN a flute.  The one I had was a rental.

Trent:  Oh.  That sucks.

Nick:  {off-screen}  Hey!  Wait!  My older sister used to play flute!  I think
we still have it around somewhere!

Trent:  Did you hear...

Daria:  {interrupts}  No.  I won't play flute.

Trent:  Please, Daria.  I think it would add just the right mood in a certain
spot.  {pauses to think}  I'll make it up to you.

Daria:  {starts to drift into fantasy sequence, but snaps back into reality}
NO!

Trent:  Okay.  Maybe I'll just call Ashley.  She plays violin.

Daria:  Wait....

{Split screen ends and just the Mystik Spiral screen is shown.  Trent listens
for a second, then gives the "thumbs up" sign to the guys.}

{Scene 4:  Jane's house.  Daria rings the doorbell.  Jane answers and grins.}

Jane:  You rang?

Daria:  Just let me in so I can get this over with.

Jane:  Whatever happened to the evil record label trying to take advantage of
the wishful thinking of four extremely gullible young men?  Decide to add a
super-cynical young woman to the situation to even things out?

Daria:  Sounds like a recipe for one-hit-wonder-soup to me.

{Cut to basement.  The band is set up and tuning.}

Max:  {sounding out drumbeats}  Digga digga tapititap chunk boom crash.  No.
Still not right.

Jesse:  Add another "chunk."

Max:  After the "tapititap" or after the "crash"?

Jesse:  After the "boom".

Max:  {ponders this for a second}  That would sound awful!  Leave the drum
playing to the expert.

{Daria and Jane enter.}

Nick:  Hi!  Did you bring food?

Jane:  Not unless you consider Daria edible.

Daria:  You forgot to bring the ketchup anyway.

{Jane laughs then walks back upstairs.  Daria gives her a helpless look, and
Jane just grins again.}

Trent:  {He walks over to Daria and puts his hand on her shoulder.}  Are you
sure you're okay with this?

Daria:  I'm not a professional or anything.

Trent:  Doesn't matter.  Do you want to listen to the song to get the feel of
it before you play along?

Daria:  I guess so.

Nick:  This is called "Outside In".  I thought of the title.

{Mystik Spiral plays through a slower ballad.}

{"Outside In"
In this big blue world of sin
I want to get to know you outside in.}

{Author's note:  Of course the song's longer than that.  Use your
imagination!}

{Daria is fidgeting with her hands.}

Trent:  Do you like it?

Daria:  I guess so.

Nick:  Isn't "Outside In" a cool name?

Daria:  I guess so.

Trent:  Did you bring it?

Daria:  Yeah.  {She reaches into her jacket and brings out a small box.}

Trent:  Cool.  Play a few notes.

{Daria hesitates then brings out the harmonica (NOT FLUTE!).  She nervously
plays a scale.}

Max:  {whines}  Jeez, Trent.  Are you sure this will have the same affect on
the song as Ashley's violin?  This song is supposed to be SAD, man.  Not a
country line dance or something.

{Daria looks hurt.}

Trent:  Harmonicas have soul, man.  SOUL.  Violins are too stuffy.

Daria:  Plus you can't carry them around in your pocket.

Trent:  Exactly.

{Time lapse.  Quick pictures of Daria playing harmonica with the band.  No
sound.}

{Scene 5:  Lawndale High.  Daria is leaning against her locker with her eyes
shut.  Jane walks up behind her and pulls her hair.  Daria jumps about a
mile.}

Daria:  Ouch!

Jane:  When DID you leave last night?

Daria:  {tired, confused}  Uh, I don't know.  Practice went late.  Or early.
Whatever.

Jane:  Don't they all?

{There is a screaming sound in the hallway.  Cut to Fashion Club.}

Sandi:  Do you really think you're, like, that much BETTER than me, Quinn?

Quinn:  {giggles nervously}  Of COURSE not, Sandi.  I just thought you'd need
a break after all the hard work you've been putting in lately and all.

Tiffany:  Yeah.  Sandi's done EVERYTHING.

Sandi:  You can't be PRESIDENT though!

Stacy:  Why can't she?  We should at least get to vote.

Sandi:  {glares at Stacy}  Are you, like, saying you don't want ME to be
president any more?

Stacy:  Oh, no!  I just think we should vote.  It's, like, the American way!

Sandi:  {throws down notebook}  FINE!  We'll take a stupid poll or something!
Are you happy now?  {silence as Sandi looks around}  Tomorrow.  You BETTER be
thinking long and hard about something this important.  {She stomps off down
the hallway.  After a few seconds, she realizes she was heading in the wrong
direction.  Looking around to make sure no one caught her, she quickly slides
around a corner.}

Jane:  {mock wishful}  You think maybe I could run for Fashion Club president?

Daria:  Just keep your hands off the interns.

Jane:  ANYWAY, what's up with the band?

Daria:  Max is picking me up after school to go to the recording studio.

Jane:  Not Trent?

Daria:  No.  {awkward silence}  What?

Jane:  {grins}  What?

Daria:  {slightly angry}  What?

Jane:  {mock innocence}  What?

Daria:  {rolls eyes}  The maturity level around here is killing me.

Jane:  {obnoxious}  What?

{Scene 6:  Max's car (not the Tank).  It is a tan POS circa '81 with an air
freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, torn brown vinyl seats, and a
plastic bag duct taped to the passenger side "lack-of" window.}

Radio:  {plays some old AC/DC song very loudly}

Daria:  What time are we supposed to be there?

Max:  {can't hear}  What?

Daria:  Is this an epidemic?  {yells} What time are we supposed to be there?

Max:  {looks at watch, yells}  Five minutes ago.  We don't want to be early;
we have to play it cool.  Taking it all in stride.

Daria:  Oh.  Punctuality's not a virtue in the music industry?

Max:  {can't hear}  What?

Daria:  {mumbles}  Never mind.

{Scene 7:  Inside an older building...the "recording studio."}

Trent:  {indicates the piercing parlor guy}  This is Axle, our manager.

Axle:  {shakes Daria's hand}  Haven't we met before?

Daria:  {embarrassed}  Yeah.

Trent:  {looks at old institution style clock on while}  Shouldn't we get
started?

Jesse:  Yeah.

Nick:  Chill out you guys.  We can't rush into these things.

Axle:  Besides, you guys still have to sign the contract.  {holds up "the
contract"}

Trent:  Okay.  {He takes the paper and immediately flips to the last page to
sign.}

Daria:  Wait.  Aren't you going to read any of it?

Trent:  {to Axle}  Five years, right?

Axle:  Right.

Trent:  Got a pen?

Daria:  Can I read it?

Trent:  You don't have to sign.

Daria:  I still want to see it.  I, uh, have never seen a professional
contract before.

Trent:  {shrugs} Sure.  {hands papers over to Daria}

{Daria reads over the contract in elapsed time.  She finishes with most of the
band sitting on the floor half-asleep.}

Daria:  I don't think this is a good idea.

Trent:  {annoyed}  Why not?

Daria:  You have too pay too many starter costs.  Any contract that bars your
right to even CONVERSE with other companies has got to be a bad deal.  Plus,
it has a cap on the amount of money you can make.

Trent:  C'mon, Daria.  I'm sure it's not that bad.

Daria:  {shakes head, firm}  I can't support this.

Trent:  {exasperated}  Daria...it's not YOUR band.

Daria:  {firm}  I wouldn't feel right backing up something that I believe
could permanently damage your fresh career.

Max:  You're not even going to PLAY?

Daria:  {hesitates}  No.

Trent:  {shrugs}  It's your call.

Nick:  {taunting} Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Daria:  Gee...did you come up with that one all by yourself?

Nick:  Huh?

Trent:  {takes back contract}  I've waited too long for this.  If you don't
want to be here, you don't have to be.

{Daria slowly walks out of the building.  She looks back, sighs, and heads for
the corner bus stop.}

{Scene 8:  Jane's room.}

Daria:  Wait a second.  It wasn't a recording studio?

Jane:  Did it look like a recording studio to you?  The cops went there just a
few minutes after you left.  Turns out it was a big Mafia headquarters thing.

Daria:  Why did they have to sign a contract for a record deal then?

Jane:  They were just going to get them to sign and pay a few of the early
costs, then they were going to leave them.  Just pack up and go with all their
money.

Daria:  Those wacky Mafiosi.  Was Axle in on it too?

Jane:  Nah.  He just wanted to be a big shot manager.

Daria:  {thoughtful} So now the Mafia will be after your family.  Seems like a
happy ending to me.

Jane:  They're not after us.  We don't owe them anything because Trent didn't
sign.

Daria:  {shocked}  He didn't?

Jane:  Haven't you been listening at all?  After you walked out, he thought
maybe it would be a good idea to read it.  He only got about a paragraph into
it when the police came to question them.  It's probably better this way.
Mystik Spiral wasn't ready for fame.

Daria:  I don't think FAME was ready for Mystik Spiral.  {sighs}  There goes
my big career as a harmonica diva.

Jane:  You could always be supported by Quinn's big presidential position.

Daria:  She didn't win the vote.  Actually, the Fashion Club never voted.
They have a handbook somewhere, and it says, "No one who is currently an
officer or is on the ballot to be elected as an officer is allowed to vote in
officer elections."  That pretty much rules out the whole club.

Jane:  Democracy in action.

Daria:  More like Idiocy in action.

{The End}