The Story in which Daria Goes to a Party, Gets Drunk and Does Bad Things, Revisited Dante Tremere (Daria and Jane are walking to school.) So what'll I do, Jane? How do I tell Trent that I love him? Jane: Easy! You just tell him. That's all there is to it. He likes you, you know! Daria: Yeah, but... oh, I dunno. Come on, we better hurry up. Jane: You know, there is a big party at Jesse's tonight. Mystik Spiral will be playing there, and you'll have the perfect chance to tell Trent! Daria: Jane, you know that parties are not my thing. Jane: Come on, Daria... Daria: Ooh... I hate you. (At school. Daria is fiddling with her locker. Ted Dewitt-Clinton approaches her.) Ted: Hi, Daria. I know it's been a while, but-- Daria: What do you want, Ted? Ted: I wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened that night in the arcade, and-- Daria: That was months ago, Ted. Things have really changed. Ted: I'm just asking that we can wipe the slate clean and forget this unpleasantness. Because I now know that I had the time of my life when you were around. Daria: Piss off, Ted. Ted: But I don't have to go to... (meaning actually sinks in) Oh. I understand now. (Dejectedly.) See you around. (His shoulders slumped, he trudges away. A goth chick dressed in the standard fishnet-and-velvet-and-leather uniform brushes aside him.) Goth chick: I really wish you would die, Ted. Leave me alone, Invisigoth. (Later in class. Daria is slumped in her desk while O'Neill prattles on.) O'Neill: And so, by analyzing what Mab truly is, we find a bit of ourselves in her! Any observations or insights, anyone? (Kevin raises his hand.) O'Neill (tentatively): Er, yes, Kevin? Kevin: Why aren't you sitting down at all today? You usually sit down on your desk.(O'Neill blushes crimson.) O'Neill: Uh, well, that is because, um... Brittany: Hey, Mr. O'Neill, Ms. Manson says you're a strap-on fetishist. What's that? (O'Neil has been found out. He opens his mouth to speak... and dashes out of the room. An uncomfortable silence ensues for a few minutes... finally broken by Jodie Landon.): Jodie: Shouldn't we do something? (All the students turn to glare at her. She has the look of a spy among the secret police who has just been found out.) Jodie: Awww... fudge. (That afternoon: Jane's place. She is painting a picture in her room of a can of Chicken Noodle soup. Every so often she refers to a copy of Warhol's Tomato soup can, and scrutinizes it, and then looks back at her work.) Jane: Hmmm... just isn't the same. (She is about to apply another brush stroke when she hears the sound of lovely music emanating from the basement. Intrigued, she tiptoes towards the basement door. Slowly pushing it open, she creeps down the stairs to find Jesse Moreno playing his guitar-- a rather accurate rendition of "Under the Bridge".) Jane: Jesse?! (Jesse is surprised. He drops the guitar.) Jesse: AHH! Jane: Jesse... what are you doing here? Jesse: I just came here to reminisce. Jane: Would that reminiscing involve trespassing as well? Jesse: Sorry. The door was unlocked. Jane: Anyway, aren't you supposed to be practicing? Jesse: Oh... yeah. Needed some time alone. (Screws up his courage immensly; this one's gonna be big.) Jane... Jane: Yes? Jesse: I was thinking... Jane: Yes?: ...we had some good times together.(Jane says nothing, but she is obviously surprised.) Jesse: And I think we should start over.(Jane opens her mouth to speak, but is hushed up by Jesse.) Jesse: No, no, I know. Don't say it. I'm happy too. Jane... I love you. Jane: I do? Jesse: I know you still do. (A voice is heard from the top of the stairs.) Voice: The hell she does, you freaking pedophile! Jesse: Who the buttfuck are you? And that grey turtleneck sweater looks absolutely dickless on you. (The owner of the voice hops down the stairs. It is Tom.) Jane: Tom! Tom: Hi, Jane. Jesse: Wait, wait... you're giving me up for this dickcheese? That really hurts! Tom: You still here? Get lost, you stoner. Jesse: No! It must be this way: we will find out who is worthy of her hand! A duel to the finish! (Jesse peels off his leather vest in one swift move, revealing his gleaming Adonis torso. Tom looks at him impassively for a moment. Then he kicks him in his leather-encased balls. Jesse sinks to the floor in agony.) Tom: Who the hell was that? Jane: You tell me... but you know, for a while, a lot of people thought he was my boyfriend. Would you believe that? Tom: In Lawndale, you can believe anything. (They exit. Jesse is still prostrate on the floor.) (That night, Jesse's house. The party is in full swing, except for the band-- because Jesse is not there. Trent is mightily pissed about this. He is pacing around by the keg; Daria is watching him speechlessly, Jane with mild amusement.) Trent: He was supposed to be here by six! I don't believe this! He has nothing else to do! Where could he be? Janey... pour me some more. (Jane dutifully hands him a blue plastic cup of that good ol' party piss, beer. Trent downs it in one gulp. Then he notices Daria still watching him.) Trent: Here... you want some? (Offers her another cup, this one full.) Daria: I don't think... Trent: Come on. It would be really cool if you did. (He gives one of his "to DIE for!" smirks, and Daria cannot resist. She sips the beer, then begins to chug. Another beer is handed her. And another, and another... She is enjoying this... and she looks up dreamily at Trent.) Daria: Hey Trent... I really want you. REALLY bad. Right now. Trent: I know. (He takes her by the hand and leads her to a bedroom.) (The next day. Daria wakes up. She then looks around the bedroom. Gets one of her priceless looks of shock when she sees the rumpled bedsheets, her in the nude, and a snoring, naked Trent beside her.) Daria: Oh my God... (nudges Trent.) Trent! Wake up! (Trent reluctantly does so.) Trent: ...Hm? Hzz... wuzzat? Daria: Look. We've... Trent(smiling): Yeah. Wasn't it great? Daria (a smile slowly creeping up the edges of her mouth): Yeah. It sure was. (They look into each other's eyes, and share many secrets: the love between them, the years that they will spend together, and how unreal this all is-- but they are glad it has happened. They go in for a passionate kiss...) Voice of Partygoer Outside the Room: OH MY GOD! He's got a gun! (Gunshots break out, screeches of terror are heard. There are thumps as bodies hit the walls and floor. Trent and Daria are pried apart rudely by the startling noise, and Daria pulls her sheet up as if it were protection. There are smacks and crashing noises, and the sporadic roar of a chainsaw. Above it all is the voice of the angel of death himself.) Voice (somewhat squeaky and high-pitched): Ha! Ahahahahahahaha! Die! Daria (her voice trembling): I know that voice... Trent: Who is it?! Daria: It's... (The door is kicked open. There, in his blood-splattered glory, is Ted DeWitt-Clinton himself. His striped shirt is now stained cadmium red; his blond hair is matted in gore, and in his eyes, still behind their elliptical spectacles, are aflame with the rage of a positive young man who just was fucked in the head a bit too much. In his hands, he grips a grisly chainsaw, and several handguns are thrust into his belt.) Daria (her voice comes out as a little squeak): ...Ted... Trent: Who the hell are you? Ted: I'm Ted. And you're a criminal. You... MOLESTED this girl by getting her drunk and then having intercourse with her. I liked her. But she liked you all along. Trent: Hey, man... I think you should-- (Ted raises the pistol and fires. Trent's head is a smear on the wall, with chunks of bone and brain visible. Daria gives a horrible, scraping cry at the shock of it all.) Ted: You're next... (He raises the chainsaw and gives the cord a good tug. It roars to life. He approaches Daria, and kicks the door shut behind him with his foot.) (Moments later. Ted is dumping gasoline on the floor and carpet of the Lane residence. All around him are the bodies of the former partygoers. Ted pauses to sniff the intoxicating fumes and continues on. He walks backward outside the door, and finishes off the cannister of gasoline. He tosses it into the house. A voice from behind him speaks.) Voice: You finished yet, honey? (It is Stacy. She is standing there in a defiant pose, looking at Ted with a very sexy stare.) Ted: Sure thing, baby. You? (Stacy wordlessly reaches into her little backpack and pulls out three bloody scalps: one black, one brown, and one strawberry-blonde.) Ted: Let's go, then. (He steps down from the front stoop. He lights a match, watches it flicker for a moment, and then tosses it onto the slick trail of gasoline. The house is engulfed with the fury of this petroleum-induced inferno. Ted then agressively grabs Stacy by the arms, pulls her close, and they share a tight, long, steamy kiss. They then break apart and run towards the black Harley Davidson sitting at the curb. Ted straddles the seat, Stacy does likewise, sitting behind him. Ted guns the engine.) Ted: I love you, pumpkin. Stacy: I love you, Honey-Bunny. (The motorcycle speeds off down the road towards the rising sun.) END ***Author's note*** Be on the lookout for something of actual quality coming soon from this author. But for now... be sure to lie, cheat, steal, and play plenty of Dungeons and Dragons. Dante Tremere whyteagle@hotmail.com