_The Look-Alike Series_ Daria fan fiction by Canadibrit with Ben Yee Season 4, episode 4: "Banded for Life" prose adaptation by Austin Loomis Cast: Daria Morgendorffer, Lynn Cullen, A.P. McIntyre, Mr. Ellis, Jane Lane, Kevin Thompson, Brittany Taylor, Nathan Caldwell, Stacy Rowe, Angie, Guy Mann, Tom Sloane, Trent Lane, Jesse Moreno, Nick Campbell, Max Tyler, Joey (non-speaking), Jeffy (non-speaking), Jamie White (non- speaking), Nikki and other non-speaking cheerleaders, Warlock, Jodie Abigail Landon, Matt Templeton, Rick Jeffreys, Joe McKeon, Sarah Clarke, Mr. Brunner, Sam Stack, Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer III (voice only), Jack "Beefy Boy" Paterson (name-checked only), Kim Otano ACT 1: MAN IN THE BOX "It's no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy 'Cuz every now and then I kick the living s*** out of me" -- Lit, "My Own Worst Enemy" School music rooms are pretty much the same wherever you go -- even, I'm told, the ones in British "public" (private) schools. Hogwarts may be an exception, but it's, well, Hogwarts. Certainly, the Lawndale High music room wasn't. Not, in any case, on the day when Daria, Lynn and A.P. walked in, looking distinctly unimpressed. Mr. Ellis, the band director -- a tall thin man with a crew cut -- came over to them. "Ah, new recruits!" he effused. "And you are?" The trio looked at each other, trying to decide who should start the inevitable. At length, A.P. shrugged. "A.P. McIntyre. I hit things." Ellis clapped A.P. on the back so hard that the Maverick nearly fell over. "One of life's born drummers, eh?" he said, despite having probably never heard of Lias "Cliff" Bluestone. "And the Doublemint Twins over there?" For that, he was treated to a double helping of their trademark "go to hell" stare. "Morgendorffer. Daria." She spat it. "Flute." "Cullen. Lynn." She waved a large case at him, nearly hitting him in the face with it. "It's either a saxophone or a Tommygun. I'm rather hoping for the latter, if you want honesty." Daria and A.P. stared at her. Ellis, not knowing what they did about her background and recent hobbies, only laughed. "What a sense of humor, eh?" He moved to clap her on the back but was stopped by her glare. "Okay," he backed off, "take your places with the other new recruits. Time to get this show on the road! Oh, and you'll be fitted for your uniforms after this, so sit tight after rehearsal, okay?" "Ugh," they ugh'ed as one. * * * Jane was sitting alone in the gang's usual booth at Pizza King, looking almost as pissed off as she felt. The door slammed open, and she looked around -- then saw what had come in and started laughing hysterically. Daria, Lynn and A.P. were decked out in full band uniform -- black Star Trek trousers with yellow piping, blue jackets with yellow trim, black hats with blue and yellow "plumes" (read: feather-duster rejects) in their tops. You could say they looked incensed, if you had a major talent for understatement. "Just. Don't," said the look-alikes. Jane was still laughing almost too hard to speak, but managed to gasp out, "Why...wearing...*that*...public?" "And deprive you of a good laugh?" snarked Lynn. "If we're all lucky, your spleen will rupture soon." A.P. decided to keep to the point. "We're supposed to break 'em in. These things haven't seen daylight since 1981." Jane was finally calming down. "Why the hell did you three agree to this anyway? I mean, do you honestly get your jollies walking around like Christmas tree ornaments for the color-blind?" Daria sighed. "In a way, it's our own damn faults. Yours and Lynn's, anyway." Piku piku. "WHAT?" "Look," Lynn snapped, "when the Iron Maiden started in on us hiding our lights under bushels, I didn't think Nathan `the Nose' Caldwell was going to *remember* it!" "This is Caldwell's first Homecoming," Daria explained, "and he wants it to be something special. And then he saw the band." "A trombone," A.P. ticked off on his fingers, "two trumpets, four clarinets, some fat girl on a bass drum and a *really* pissed-off tuba player." "So he went through everyone's school records to see if he could find any hidden talent to exploit." Jane gestured to Daria. "Your flute lessons..." "Stopped in fourth grade, but what the hell..." Now to A.P. "Your drumming career..." "Fifteen rehearsals, one gig -- sorry, half a *song.* Two months playing, tops." One last gesture for luck. "And, most damning of all..." Lynn groaned. "My *own* band experience. -- And it was either that or two months' detention and I don't have that kind of time." "I guess he found the Angela Li Guide to High School Administration," Daria observed. "Well, I think it's kinda nice of you three." Jane noticed the stares that was getting her. "I mean, the man's *obviously* desperate. And it *is* just for Homecoming, right?" All she got for that was a set of grudging, morose nods. "Why aren't *you* in on this, Art-Smart Scarlet?" "I am. `Art-Smart' being the operative words." "The float again?" Daria asked. "Yep. Though Caldwell says that if I do anything involving corpses again," she confessed, sounding ever-so-slightly disappointed, "the next memorial goalpost will be mine." "I'm sure you'll work your way around that. You always do." "I dunno. I'm pretty stuck. Any ideas?" "Gross delicacies of the world?" "I think it has to involve football in some way, shape or form, A.P." She thought a moment, then got one of her evil smirks. "How about a shrine to the pig who sacrificed his skin for the Beautiful Game?" "Actually, Jane," Lynn corrected, "*baseball* is the one referred to as `The Beautiful Game.'" "And anyway," A.P. pointed out, "today's footballs are all made out of plastics." "Damn," Jane muttered. "This is going to be harder than I thought." Total morose silence at the table. * * * And so, out on the football field, Daria, Lynn and A.P. were sitting in the bleachers. A.P.'d been given a snare drum, while Daria had her flute and Lynn her sax. They were watching the events unfolding at the bottom of the bleachers with interest. "But baaaaaabe!" "Don't you `but babe' *me,* you...you...Dungeon!" "Come again?" A.P. puzzled. "I think she means Don Juan," Daria explained. "Oh. -- Come again *again?*" Daria and Lynn sighed. At the bottom of the bleachers, oblivious to this, Kevin and Brittany kept on arguing. "Babe, Laura means *nothing* to me, I *swear!*" "Oh, and I suppose you were just checking to see if there was something in her eye!" The gang raised eyebrows at that. "Or caught between her back teeth," Lynn observed. "Whatever." "I've had enough of this." A.P.'s evil grin surfaced. "Hang on a sec." He detached himself from the snare and climbed down to the bottom of the bleachers, where a large pair of cymbals lay on the bottom seat, deserted. "Babe, you gotta stop being so...parricide!" Daria and Lynn winced. "That's *paranoid,* you moron..." "If not being parricide means I have to put up with your...your ...cheerleaderizing, I *like* being it! Whatever it is! And for your big fat sweaty information--" A.P., who'd picked up the cymbals and was holding them at arm's length, now slammed them together, *hard,* right next to Kevin and Brittany's ears. The lovebirds clapped their hands to their ears and staggered under the noise. "Now will the two of you *knock it off?*" "WHAT?" Kevin shouted. "DID YOU SAY SOMETHING, A.P.?" He began to realize he'd just done something *really* wrong. "Ohboy..." * * * "So Kevin and Brittany are going to be deaf as stone posts for the next few days," Daria concluded her postmortem at Pizza King. "And that puts the kibosh on their participation in Homecoming," Jane summed up from the other side of the booth. "Yikes." She had a thought. "How much trouble is A.P. in?" "Week's detention, and he's never allowed to touch the cymbals again. I think he got off lightly, if you want to know the truth." "Yeah, no kidding. -- So what's happening to the football team and the cheerleaders?" "Well, Mack's taking over as temporary quarterback until Kevin gets his hearing back. I don't see how it makes all that much difference if Kevin can't hear, though -- if the rumors are true, he never listens to the plays anyway." "And the rah-rahs?" "I don't know. I know Stacy's taking over as head cheerleader for a while but, unlike the football team, they don't keep substitutes. Something about Ms. Li not forking out for the extra insurance. So they're going to have to recruit awfully fast or work out some new routines that involve one less pair of pom-poms." A brief silence -- then Jane got a slightly horrified look on her face as something occurred to her. "Where's Lynn?" * * * I'll take "standing in front of Caldwell's desk" for 200, Alex. The principal looked at her over steepled fingers. "So I guess what I'm offering you is a choice. I know you were on the cheerleading squad -- briefly -- and maybe you remember some of the moves involved?" Lynn just looked at him; he looked a bit uncomfortable, but continued. "Now, I understand that you're probably quite happy in the band just now..." He looked to her for confirmation or denial and just got that Look. He swallowed nervously. "But would it be at all possible for me to request you reconsider and join the cheerleading squad until Miss Taylor makes a recovery?" Lynn just looked at him some more. He squirmed visibly. "You want *me,*" she said at length. "To join the cheerleaders. After what you saw in gym class last year." "Well, that was without any real supervision...working on your own...boredom and that sort of thing. I mean, following the routines you'd..." He sighed. "Look, Miss Cullen, we need a replacement cheerleader far more than we need another band member. I can have Mr. Ellis move one of the clarinet players to saxophone but I can't replace a cheerleader with just anyone. You know I could probably force you into this but I'm offering you the choice." Lynn looked at him some more, still with no expression, weighing the pros and cons. * * * Later, in the gym, the cheerleaders were sitting on the bleachers, fidgeting with their pom-poms, when Stacy poked her head through one of the doors. "Hey guys!" she shouted. "I found us a new cheerleader! And she knows the moves, sort of! You all remember..." She trailed off, looking behind her. "Come *on!* No one's going to bite you!" With that, she dragged Lynn in by the wrist. Lynn was obviously wearing Brittany's uniform -- like the uniform they'd given her for the day she was last on the cheerleading squad, it was about a size and/or a half too large for her. There was a moment of silence as they saw her. Angie was the first to speak. "But she--" "Guys, don't *worry!* She's a *brain!* Brains catch on fast! Right, Lynn?" They all stared at her. Lynn raised a pom-pom and forced a weak smile. In her perky voice, she said, "Uh...go Lions?" This seemed to reassure the cheerleaders. "Gooooooooooooo *Lions!*" While none of them were watching, Lynn winced. _I just sold my soul. Welcome to Hell, Cullen..._ ACT 2: WE'RE ALL STARS NOW "Real, real, real Do ya feel real? And if so I'd like to know" -- Jesus Jones, "Real" Later, at the Zen, Jane was sketching away. She looked at her current sketch, sighed, tore it out of the sketchpad, crumpled it and threw it away. Guy came up and looked over her shoulder as she started sketching again. "More muse?" "More like *anti*-muse," she corrected. "Lawndale homecoming. Damn float. Manic principal." "You gotta chill about school, babe." Jane raised an eyebrow. "BABE?" He was displaying real fear at the look on her face. "Sorry. Force of habit. -- Anyway, it's just a place you go to learn to not get your soul stomped on. You gotta mock it and move on." "Stomping, huh? Hmm..." She started sketching with a new fervor. Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Thanks, Guy." Guy very nearly smiled, but he had an image to maintain. * * * The next day in the halls, Lynn, in full cheerleading regalia, was slumped against her locker, looking rather pale. Daria approached her elder sister, caught the haunted look on her face and decided to proceed with a bit more caution. "So how goes life with the Squad?" Lynn shook a pompom somewhat listlessly. "Rah-rah." That was when Daria started to become concerned. "You okay?" "Uh-huh." "Convince me, why don't you?" "Do you know how easy this is? They don't *think.* They don't *worry* about anything. And hell, it's almost..." Daria couldn't believe her ears. "You're not...*enjoying* this, are you?" "The ultimate freedom. Blissful ignorance. There are moments when I think I might *just* be able to shut my brain off. And yeah, when I can do that, I enjoy the hell out of it. I mean, brainless bimbo cheerleaders who are destined for trophy-wifedom don't get called up for what they say I'm destined for. So maybe..." _Getting really worried now._ "Lynn--" "So *maybe* I can just drop it. Paste a vacant smile on my face and dare to be stupid." _Have officially gone *through* worried and straight to freaked._ "I don't think--" "No. And neither do I." Lynn walked off, leaving Daria to stare at her. Tom approached from behind, looking like he'd just been whacked upside the head. "Please tell me I didn't hear what I thought I heard." Daria couldn't even look him in the eye. "This. Is. BEYOND. Bad." She walked away, leaving Tom to blink after her with an expression that said without words, _Oh crap I'm in trouble now..._ * * * Scenes from an exercise in attempted self-evasion: Daria and AP were standing at his locker, the one with the Tux poster tacked to the inside of the door. They looked up at the sound of an approaching human; A.P. began visibly sweating, and Daria looked at him with some amusement. Lynn walked past, in a cheerleader uniform that actually fit, and A.P. openly stared. Daria gave him a remember- this-is-a-BAD-thing look, and he gave her a sheepish grin in return. At Pizza King, Lynn was sitting with the cheerleaders and looking with some trepidation at a cheeseless pizza. She pushed her plate away and pretended to pay attention. Trent, Jesse, Nick and Max wandered into the restaurant and did a facefault at seeing her with the cheerleaders. Out on the field, Stacy dragged Lynn over to the football players, who were taking a breather. Joey, Jeffy and Jamie started fawning over her again, the way they had when she tried the Narcissa look. She closed her eyes a moment, thinking _Oh, typical_, before making Quinn-esque conversation. Daria and AP, sitting in the bleachers in their band uniforms, saw the whole thing. Daria looked at him as if to say, _See? Bad thing._ A.P. didn't even notice; he was too busy watching Lynn with a very hurt look on his face. Outside Casa Lane, Jane had rigged a platform on top of the A- Tank and was using a staple-gun to attach a blue tarp to it. Tom, on the sidewalk, yelled up at her, in a pleading sort of way, requests for her to talk to Lynn. Eventually, Jane clambered off the A-Tank holding a can of spray-paint and sprayed the word NO across the front of his sweater in bright yellow letters. Then she climbed up onto the platform again, leaving Tom to look at his defaced sweater in some disgust. Lynn, still in cheerleading uniform, approached A.P. at his locker. She started to raise her hand in greeting, but Stacy and Nikki caught up to her and started walking with her, chattering bubblingly away and pointedly steering her away from A.P., and she looked away. A.P. looked after the girls for a moment, then slammed his head into a nearby locker door. * * * Tom was sitting on Chez Cullen's front doorstep. He stood up when the Merc pulled into the driveway. Lynn, still in the cheerleading outfit, stepped out of the car, and he walked towards her. "Yes?" she asked. "CHEERLEADING?" She sighed. "Ah, `the mill.' How I loathe thee. What *about* cheerleading?" "Mystik Spiral is bad enough. At least it's decent cover. And the marching band...well, hell, you were going to be marching in a group. But now you're going to be prancing around out in the open in a uniform that screams `Shoot me -- shoot me *now*.'" "In front of several hundred people. What sniper would be stupid enough?" "It's not a question of stupidity. It's a question of audacity. No one's telling me how heavy this is likely to get. Don't make me make phone calls, Cullen." "You think Dad'll care? Oh, of course. He's losing an heir. But hell, your organization could probably use a moll or two..." "I wasn't going to call the Falcon. More like Warlock." That gave Lynn pause...for about two seconds. "And he'd listen to you?" She raised an eyebrow. "It'll never happen." She entered the house and shut the door. Tom nearly snarled, but managed to get it under control. He reached into his pocket, grabbed his cellphone and hit a speed-dial number. * * * Warlock was leaning on the counter of the Inner Sanctum's kitchenette, cellphone to his ear, listening. He blinked loudly after a moment. "She's done *what?*" While listening to the answer, he started walking around the kitchen in a wandering sort of way. "H." Getting the inevitable reply to that, he stopped his Cellular Waltz briefly to bellow, "RUST! Whatever! CHILL!" He resumed walking. "Look, she's just doing the least Smythe-like thing she can think of." "And this fails to bother you?" Tom asked from the Cullen front lawn. "She won't be doing it for long. It goes against her nature." "I dunno. She seems *damn* serious about it." "Ask the Maverick about the *last* time she tried changing herself." Tom blinked. "How did you know about *that?*" Warlock shrugged. "Firing range talk. You know how it goes." "Anyway," Tom shrugged it off, "I've seen her with the bit in her teeth. So have *you.*" A sigh. "Give it time. Talk to Emerald, Scarlet or Maverick if it bothers you. Particularly Maverick." "In other words, get off the line because you have other things to do with your morning." _Uh-huuuuuh..._ "What do *you* think?" _Eep._ "Right. I'll keep you updated." Tom hit the cutoff button, then looked at the phone. After a moment, he slumped his shoulders, stuffed it back into his pocket and walked away. * * * Lynn was sitting on the gym bleachers, pom-poms at her feet, elbows propped on knees, chin in hands, looking morose and bored. Stacy came over and sat beside her. "Hi Lynn!" She sounded genuinely concerned as she asked, "What's wrong?" Lynn sighed. "Oh, nothing. Just..." "You're bored, aren't you." You could have knocked Lynn over with a feather. She looked up at the Shrinking Violet. "How could you tell?" Stacy smiled. "Just a guess. Anyway..." She leaned in close and whispered the next part. "I think our cheers are pretty boring too." Another small sigh. "Yeah. There's no real bite to them, is there." "I heard something from Angie about the cheer *you* did for gym class awhile ago. The routine was supposed to be pretty good...and even if the words *were* a little icky, guys *like* that kind of thing!" _Am I hearing this right?_ "And your point?" "You're a writer, aren't you? *And* a musician -- Laura saw you at the Zen last week! You could come up with some new cheers for us!" Lynn looked at Stacy, hoping the rather large internal struggle that now faced her wasn't showing as obviously on her face as she feared. ACT 3: I WANT TO BREAK FREE "When I grow up, I'll be stable When I grow up, I'll turn the tables" -- Garbage, "When I Grow Up" Out on the football field, a few days later, the Homecoming game was about to start, and the band and cheerleaders were gearing up for the pre-game show. Daria and A.P. looked over at Lynn, who was in a tight little knot with the other cheerleaders. Jodie, in uniform and with her clarinet, came over to join them and looked down to follow their gazes. "This blows goats," A.P. observed sadly. Jodie didn't dispute that, simply asking, "Can someone explain *why* she suddenly went...I dunno, Brittany?" "Technically," replied Daria, "yes. Realistically, no." Jodie looked extremely confused, but backed off. On the opposite side of the bleachers, the visiting team -- the Eagles of Oakwood, the Lions' traditional rivals -- were sitting. One who knew would recognize Matt Templeton, Rick Jeffreys, Joe McKeon and Sarah Clarke among the Oakwood marching band types. Rick and Matt both took out binoculars. Matt was the first to ask, "What are you looking for?" "That cheerleader with the huge *ahem* `tracts of land,'" replied Rick. "Hey, she went with Stack, why not? -- You? "According to `the mill,' Lawndale got some new band talent. Always worth checking on." With that, they raised their binoculars to their faces and looked in different directions. After a moment's face- scanning, they blinked. "If I didn't know better," they said in mutual shock, "I'd *swear* that was Cullen..." Each realized the other had echoed him. "WHAT?" They turned around to look where each other were looking and knocked heads. Then they turned to Sarah and Joe. This time, Rick was the one to speak. "There's *two* of them. One's a cheerleader and the other's in band. Playing a *flute.*" "Either dinky girly-instrument that Lynn would never touch or pom-pom slut," Sarah scoffed. "No *way.*" "There's not two of them." Joe's bandmates took a moment to stare at him. "Look, this is Name-Dropper gossip but...Ever seen _Sister, Sister_?" * * * Daria was cleaning her flute when four members of the Oakwood band came stalking over. She looked up and blinked at them. "Excuse me?" "Which one are *you?*" said the one whose glasses, braces and complexion matched A.P.'s account of Matt Templeton. "Daria." "Oh. -- Hey." "She joined the *pom-pom sluts?*" said a chubby girl with too much hair, presumably Sarah Clarke. After a moment to fail to purge the incredulity from her voice, she added, "You think you know a body..." "What the hell *happened* to her? Did she get hit on the head or something?" "Actually, yes." They looked at Daria to see if she were kidding. She looked back to indicate she wasn't. They blinked at her. "ALL RIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Oakwood's band director, Mr. Brunner, hollered through his megaphone. "TAKE YOUR PLACES, PLEASE!" The Oakwood contingent gave Daria one last blink and wandered off. Jane was sitting on another side of the bleachers. Guy came over and sat down next to her. "Hey. Liked the float. That whole `throw the freaks to the lions' thing was really...dunno...Roman." "Yo. Well, it expressed my mood at the time. -- Thought you were supposed to be over *there.*" She pointed to the Oakwood side. "Three reasons. One," he indicated his blue hair, "I don't match. Two -- do I really strike you as a guy who has any school spirit?" "Nooooo...but you have a long enough list of ways teachers should screw goats to fill the Kama Sutra." Guy chuckled. "And there's reason three. The company's better over here." Jane blushed a little at that. "Goat-boy," said a familiar raspy voice. "Hey." They both looked up in surprise as Mystik Spiral took seats in the bleachers behind them. Jane was confused. "What are *you* doing at a high school football game, Trent? You never even went to one when you were *in* high school." "Wanted to see how Daria does musically. And..." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "And Max wanted to see Lynn `shake her bootie.'" "Little Drummer Boy...that phrase died in 1979. And she *has* a boyfriend." "Hey, doesn't mean I can't look!" Now it was Jane's turn to roll her eyes. Now the cheerleaders were taking the field, with Lynn at the head. In the Lawndale band, some consternation from A.P. "To quote Igor...this is *so* wrong..." Lynn raised a megaphone to her face and pointed a pom-pom at Oakwood QB Sam Stack. Her voice amplified enough to carry across the field: "HE'S A LOSER, SHE SAID!" And Static X's "I'm With Stupid" began to blare through the loudspeakers. Lynn dropped the megaphone and joined the other cheerleaders in a fairly sharp, nearly headbanging routine. Despite the total shock they were sharing with the class, Daria and A.P. managed to blurt out, "What the *hell?*" The cheerleaders, undaunted by the general reaction, continued; some of them looked uncertain, but others seem to think it was quite fun. * * * Up in the bleachers, Jane, Guy and the Spiral watched the game, wide- eyed. There is a *crunch* from out on the field, and they break the facefault long enough to wince. "Oooh," Upchuck said on the PA, "and a *killing* body blow to Stack from Jack Paterson!" At one edge of the field, Lynn punched the air over her head with a pom-pom. "BLOOD MAKES THE GRASS GROW!" The other cheerleaders followed suit. "KILL! KILL! KILL!" "And I thought her one for gym was bad..." Jane observed. "Is she *always* like this?" Guy demanded. "Oooooooh yeah," the spiral replied, seeming somewhat proud. * * * Some time later, the band were at the edge of the field, ready to go on the march. Lynn, carrying a large stack of papers, was talking to Kim, the Japanese-American bandleader, about something. The tall thin sansei looked a bit confused, but interested all the same. Daria and A.P. are still staring at Lynn as she thrust her papers into the other's arms and jogged away toward the announcer's box. The bandleader looked at the papers, then shrugged and walked up to the band, sifting through them and handing them out. When the line got to her, Daria spoke. "Kim ...what..." Kim shrugged. "Look, I've been doing this for years. All I ever get to conduct is the Lions fight song and hits from the movies. This looks like a hell of a lot more fun, we can keep to the same formation as we had for the other thing, and what are they going to do? Kick us out of the band?" "...Either way." With that, Daria took the paper offered. Kim sifted through the pile and handed A.P. a sheet as well, then moved on. A.P. took one look and laughed out loud. Daria looked at him with a certain bemusement. "Something funny?" "She always *wanted* to pull this!" he blurted. "See the tune?" Daria frowned at the paper, then started humming out the tune. She only got through four notes before she had to stop -- she recognized it, and remembered A.P. mentioning it in passing from Lynn's career with the Oakwood band. If she'd kept going, she'd have had to laugh too, and she had a reputation to maintain. "We're going to do this?" "Why the hell not? Wonder if she can get the words..." There was a sudden whine of feedback from the PA, and they could hear Upchuck shouting, "OW! OW! LET GO OF ME, YOU CRAZY..." before he was lost in the *thunk* and the *whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine* and the *whapwhapwhap* and the *THUD* and the *slam*. "Okay, people," Lynn boomed out, "it's halftime and if you'll pardon the narcissism, I'd like to perform a little number by Cleese, Idle, Palin, Chapman, Gilliam and Jones. HIT IT, GUYS!" "Our cue?" A.P. asked. Evidently it was, because Kim raised her baton. And the band, marching on the field in formation, broke into what was probably, technically, an Eric Idle composition -- he did most of the songs -- with Lynn on lead vocals. "o/~ Sit on my face and tell me that you love me / I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you... o/~" * * * "Aaaaaaaand Lawndale takes homecoming, 63 to 3! And let's hear it for the Lions!" Cheers from the crowd. "*And* for the Lionesses as well -- Lawndale's cheerleading squad for daring to be...different. And certainly *feisty!* Rrrrowr!" "CAN IT, UPCHUCK!" the cheerleaders replied as one. "*Veeeerrrrry* feisty..." * * * The next day or so, Lynn was standing in the hall with the cheerleaders, holding a shopping bag which had a pair of pompoms sticking out of the top. "Are you *sure* you won't stay? I mean, it's been really...I don't know about `cool' but really *interesting*..." "Sorry, Stacy, but I don't really fit in with you guys. And anyway, I have...other commitments." "If it's about that...*guy* you're dating..." Angie started to say. Lynn quickly hid a sad look. "It's not just that. Seriously, it's been...well, it's *been*...but..." She handed over the shopping bag. "I think I'm better off out." Angie took the bag, looking at Lynn as if she'd completely lost her mind. Lynn turned around and walked away... ...only to be followed by Stacy. "I don't *get* it! You were doing so *well!* And a few of the other girls are, like, kind of not wanting to go back to the stuff Brittany thought up. You've *gotta* stay!" "*You* know the moves. *You* do it." "I...I...I..." "Are you going to finish that sentence or am I going to have to Heimlich it out of you?" Something made her take a mild form of pity on the Shrinking Violet. "I think I know what you need to say. Repeat after me. `I...'" "I..." "`...am still...'" "Am still..." "`...a doormat.'" "A door--HEY!" "Too accurate?" Stacy seemed to become intensely interested in her shoes. "Yeah." "Then make it *in*accurate." With that, Lynn walked away, headed for where Daria and Jane were standing, across the hall, and stood there a moment, waiting for someone to say something. Daria and Jane just kind of smirked at her. Jane said something. Lynn shrugged, gave a half-smile, and all three of them walked away. Stacy looked after them ...then raised an eyebrow and went back to the cheerleaders with a determined look. * * * A day or two after that, Brittany stepped through the gym door with a big smile on her face! "Hiiiiiiiiii guys! I'm back and I can *hear* a--" The "...gain" was drowned out by Coal Chamber's "Oddity" being blared full-blast through a boom box. "From the top, girls!" Stacy shouted. "ONE TWO THREE AND!" After a moment of watching the routine, Brittany's eyes got *really* big. "Eep!" ADAPTOR'S NOTES If CB can hang the surname "Paterson" on Jack, I can give one to one of her characters. The name "Otano" was suggested by _ototano_, an alternate reading of the kanji used to spell _ongaku_, the Japanese word for "music" according to my copy of _Webster's New World Compact Japanese Dictionary_. I think his forename may have been subconsciously inspired by Desmond saying that Beefy Boy's first name "beats [his] pair of jacks." (And all this reminds me: I was going to mention in the after- notes to the "Fifth Wheel" adapt that "Wanamaker" as Brooke's surname was a pun on "wannabe," but I must have figured it'd be kind of obvious, since I seem to have forgotten to do so.) Obligatory legal blap: Daria Morgendorffer was created (as were the rest of the Lawndale characters) by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn, and she and her neighbors are copyright 1993, 1997, 2000 MTV Networks, a Viacom company. (As Michelle Klein-Haess has pointed out, work-for-hire sucks the yolks from ostrich eggs.) Monty Python quotes and characters are copright 1970, 2000 Python (Monty) Pictures Ltd. They are here used, without the permission of their creators or owners, in the not-for-profit context of fan-fiction. The characters of Lynn Cullen and A.P. McIntyre are copyright 1999, 2000 Janet "Canadibrit" Neilson. This storyline is copyright 2000 Canadibrit and Ben Yee and was adapted by Austin Loomis (to whom the prose format version is also copyright 2000) with their permission. All other characters, locations and incidents (of which I don't think there are any, actually) are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any coincidence of names is regretted, and any resemblance to persons living, dead, undead, or wandering the night in ghostly torment is either purely satirical or not my fault. As a "substantially transformative" derivative work, this story is protected by the Supreme Court's decision in re Campbell v. Acuff Rose Music. It may be freely redistributed as long as this copyright notice is maintained intact, but may not be in any way redistributed for profit without the permission of the legal owners of all concepts involved. The present author hereby gives permission for any and all keepers of Daria fanfic pages to archive this work (as if I could stop them). Any publication of this story for profit without the express written permission of Austin Loomis, Janet Neilson, Ben Yee and MTV Networks (like any of that'll happen, especially the last) is strictly prohibited, and violators, if I ever decide to track them down, will be strung up by the thumbs, beaten about the head and shoulders with a free-range carrot, and then handed over to corporate lawyers who will do terrible things to them. On purpose. Austin, and good day. Al D T0 W- Q Fw^Fr O+ Ow+OH+Of m c- MV+ F:111,208,313 BB+ FCT -DT+ q fJ^fj^fD