The Story of D|
Written by Jacquelyn Reingold
(Transcript created by Richard Lobinske)
(opening theme song)
(View of television screen with "Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards" logo on it. Cut to Fashion Club sitting in Morgendorffer living room. Tiffany and Sandi are seated on the center sofa, Stacy is seated on the floor in front of them, and Quinn on viewer's right. Drinks and snacks on coffee table)
Quinn - Watching the Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards tonight instead of going out was such a good idea, Sandi.
(Quinn mutes television with remote)
Stacy - They're donating a tenth of a cent to charity for every household tuned in. We're really doing something worthwhile.
Tiffany - Sandi, you've made us into contributors.
Sandi - Thank you all, I try.
(Cut to view of television screen. Blonde in short blue dress, holding a toy poodle in one arm and award in other hand speaks from a podium)
Woman - Thank you, from me and Spongecake.
Woman - And most of all, from the little children who now get the pedicures they so sorely need.
(Cut to Fashion Club in same places. They all sigh as Helen enters talking on cordless telephone)
TV Announcer (VO) - The Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards will be back right after... (Quinn turns sound off with remote)
Helen (on telephone) - But Rita, if Erin never loved him, why'd she marry him in the first place? (pause) Once he gave her herpes she didn't think anyone else would want her? Oh, lord Rita, it's a new millennium. When will people get rid of these outmoded ideas about sex? (places hand over telephone and says to Quinn) Where's your sister?
Quinn - In her room.
Helen - Is Tom in there with her?
Quinn - Mo-om! I'm not J. Edgar Winter.
Helen - Uh! (hands telephone to Quinn) Talk to your aunt! (runs up the stairs)
Quinn - Hello? (pause) It's Quinn, Aunt Rita. Well, of course she should divorce him, he's short!
(View of inside of Daria's bedroom door. Helen bursts through)
Helen - Daria! Why don't you two come downstairs and...
(View rapidly changes to Daria's bed, to her television and closet door, and then to Daria sitting back from typing at her computer)
Helen - Um, Tom's not here?
Daria - Not unless you've got him secreted somewhere on your person. (beat) You do, don't you.
(View of Daria's room with Helen at the door and Daria at her computer)
Helen - Oh... hmm... all right, then. (walks away)
(Daria returns to typing. After a moment, the telephone rings and she answers)
Daria - Hello.
(Cut to Jane talking at a pay telephone outside a movie theater)
Jane - Okay... the movie just started and you're in the comfort of your own home. So, I'd say you're not going to make it. What would you say?
Daria (looks at wristwatch) - Crap.
(Daria and Jane exit movie theater and walk along sidewalk)
Jane - Gee, who'd have thunk it? It turns out alien superintelligence is no match for our earthly can-do spunk.
Daria - And beautiful twenty-year old astrophysicists are really looking for a nice, middle-aged street cop to fall in love with.
Jane - Yeah, didn't see that one coming.
Daria - I wish I hadn't seen it at all.
Jane - Well, if you'd been on time, we'd be deconstructing that comedy from Croatia instead of It Came From Planet Stupid. What were you doing that was so important, anyway?
Daria - Um, working on something.
Jane - Oh, I'm satisfied. (stops and crosses arms) Out with it, Morgendorffer.
Daria (stops and turns) - Okay, I was writing a short story.
Jane - And the big secret is?
Daria - I'm uh, thinking of submitting it somewhere, like a publication.
Jane (excited) - Hey! That's a step, when can I read it?
Daria - How does next leap year sound?
Jane - You're willing to have it published and read by strangers, but you don't want your best friend to see it?
Daria - Thank you for understanding.
(View of television screen showing Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards set as end credits scroll over image)
TV Announcer - Congratulations for watching the Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards. And remember, (cut to previous view of Fashion Club) there's no better feeling than looking good, doing good. Good night.
Quinn (sighs, clicks television remote) - Those models are so unselfish.
Tiffany - I feel humbled.
Stacy - I wish I could win a Fashionvision Humanitarian Award.
Sandi - Well, you know, as a prominent extracurricular organization at Lawndale High, there's no reason why we couldn't lend our name to a worthy cause.
Quinn - Like the girls soccer team and their adopt-a-highway sign?
Tiffany - Eww. Picking up trash on the side of the road?
Sandi - Um, Quinn. I haven't been convicted of anything, have you? Besides, why settle for a sign, when you can have a plaque.
Stacy - Wow! A plaque?
Sandi - Exactly. Mounted on something appropriate for our beautification image. Like, a park bench.
Tiffany - But, then wouldn't people always be putting their butts on us?
Stacy - Eww.
Quinn - I know. How about a new mirror to replace that awful one in the girls bathroom that adds at least two pounds?
Stacy - I hate that mirror.
Tiffany - It haunts me.
Sandi - That's a good idea, Quinn. Donating a mirror will reflect well on us. (pause) Reflect well on us?
Quinn - Ohh!
(Quinn, Stacy and Tiffany laugh)
(Daria and Jane seated at booth of pizza place with a slice and a drink each)
Jane - Now, that stain to the left of the Barbie's corvette stain looks just like Eleanor Roosevelt.
Daria - Just say it, you read my story and hated it.
Jane - What? Where'd you get that madcap idea?
Daria - Your increasingly desperate attempts to avoid the topic.
Jane (sighs) - I didn't hate it. It just seemed, well... the plot felt a little muddled.
Daria - You think it sucked. Just admit it.
Jane - It had too many styles or something, that's all.
Daria - It's okay if you don't like it, you know. In fact, I don't even like it. It stinks.
Jane - Look, why don't you show it to someone else? Someone who appreciates literature. (crosses arms) Someone named Tom.
Daria - I couldn't show it to him. It's too intimate.
Jane - Daria, it's about a flesh-eating virus. How's that intimate?
Daria - You'd think it was pretty intimate if it were eating your flesh.
(Daria seated on sofa in Morgendorffer living room, watching television)
SSW Announcer - This king of the jungle was one tubby tabby, until the animal plastic surgeon came to call. Lipo for Leo, next on Sick, Sad World.
(Jake enters wearing plain white undershirt, regular shirt over arm and attempting to thread a needle. He sits next to Daria on sofa)
Jake - Dammit! Why do they have to make the eye of the needle so darn small?
Daria - I guess to piss off the camel. (takes needle and thread from Jake)
Jake - Thanks, Kiddo!
Daria (threads needle) - Just happy to find something I can do. Unlike writing.
Jake - Good for you! (looks around) Now what the hell did I do with that button? (pause) Hey! Who says you can't write?
Daria - It's not important. Forget I mentioned it. I don't want to talk about it. (beat) It's true, isn't it?
Jake - I bet it was some busy-body teacher like Corporal Ellenbogen. Guy can did a foxhole; that makes him an expert on show tunes? I don't think so, dammit!
Daria - Um, Dad. Are you getting your military school boyhood mixed up with a past life in vaudeville?
Jake - Ellenbogen told me the song I wrote for the school musical stank, dammit! And you know what? It was a darn good song. (Daria gets up and walks away) I should have sung it for someone who didn't think that musical comedy began and ended with Gilbert and Sullivan. Oh, please!
(Exterior view of Griffin home, cut to Fashion Club in Sandi's bedroom)
Sandi - All right. Now that we've agreed to donate a new girls room mirror, the next order of business is to figure out how to pay for it.
Tiffany - Oh, yeah.
Stacy - We could hold a yard sale!
Sandi - Stacy, are you suggesting we sit behind a card table and haggle?
Stacy - Oh, God. What's wrong with me?
Quinn - Why don't we do what we do best?
Sandi - Quinn, no-one is going to pay us to eat carrot sticks.
Quinn - I mean, tell people what's wrong with their outfits.
Tiffany - But, we do that all day for free. That's why everyone likes us.
Quinn - Well, we can put it down on paper. Sell our own newsletter offering advice to fashion victims. And, we can predict fashion trends. People will save money with our newsletter by not buying things in the wrong fabric or belt length.
Sandi - A commendable idea. All in favor?
(All four raise their hands)
Sandi - Then I guess we should decide which topics to cover.
Stacy - Boy, this volunteering is going to be a lot of work.
Tiffany - I know. Someone should really pay us for it.
(Exterior view of Morgendorffer home, cut to view of Jake, still in undershirt, sitting in the dark and holding a martini)
Jake - If it wasn't for Ellenbogen, I might be a Broadway lyricist. I could write songs for cats. I could write songs for dogs!
(Helen enters through front door)
Jake (whimpers) - My name in lights would have been fantastic.
Helen (turns on light) - Jake.
Jake - Ellenbogen!
(Helen walks up to Jake)
Helen - Jake!
Jake - Huh?
Helen - Where are the girls?
Jake - Uh... Quinn's um, somewhere, and, and Daria's up in her room with, um, Tom.
Helen - Jake, how long have they been up there?
Jake - Did I ever tell you about the song I wrote in military school? "Cadet Guys Ho!"
Helen - If I say I don't want them in there alone, I might give them ideas. I know, snacks.
(Helen exits. Jake drains martini and holds up glass)
Jake - I'd like to thank my family, my friends, and not that damn Corporal Ellenbogen! Or Gilbert! Or Sullivan!
(In Daria's room. Tom is at computer, reading story, Daria is seated on floor, sharpening pencils with an electric sharpener)
Tom - I'm so glad you asked me to read this.
Daria - You are?
Tom - Yeah. It's great.
Daria - It's not muddled?
Tom - No, it's varied. It changes voices, it challenges the reader. Daria, I'm serious, this is really good.
Helen - Oh, Tom. I didn't know you were here. Are you two hungry? I could get you some chackers and creese? Um, crackers and cheese and crackers. I'll be right back.
Tom - You know, I read this story my English teacher sent to Musings Magazine, and this is much better. Why don't you submit it to them?
Daria - The rejection, indignation, and lasting humiliation.
Tom - How about the success, stardom, and eventual alcoholism?
Daria - I actually did think of submitting it somewhere. But it feels too... too much like trying.
Tom - I'll never tell you displayed motivation.
Daria - I'm just not sure it's good enough.
Tom - Why don't you let the magazine decide? No-one has to know.
(Exterior of Lawndale Post office, cut to Daria carrying large envelope addressed to Musings Magazine. Just as she reaches the drop slot, Mr. O'Neill comes up from behind)
Mr. O'Neill - Hello, Daria.
Daria - Oh, hi Mr. O'Neill.
Mr. O'Neill - Musings Magazine? Daria, are you submitting a story? That's wonderful!
Daria - Um, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this.
Mr. O'Neill - Of course, it will be our little secret. A new and deeper level to our student-teacher relationship. Something unique and meaningful between a gifted writer and, well, her mentor?
Daria - Something like that. (drops envelope in slot)
Mr. O'Neill - I'm honored! Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?
Daria - Uh, your shoelace is untied.
(Quinn's bedroom, she is lying on bed, typing on laptop computer)
Quinn - Purple based lipsticks will be in, so peach based blushes will be out, because otherwise, your cheekbones won't match your lipliner, and who needs that? Smiley face, surprise face, wink.
(Tiffany seated on her bed, reading from notebook)
Tiffany - Hold the tweezer in your right hand, or in your left hand if you're left handed. Squeeze the eyebrow hair and pull. There is pain involved.
(Stacy lying on floor next to her bed, writing on notepad)
Stacy - Long skirts will be back, although not too long. Maybe on the shorter side of long, but don't be mad if it turns out that the longer-longer ones are more in than the shorter-longer ones.
(Sandi's bedroom. Sandi is reading from paper to rest of Fashion Club)
Sandi - Like a fine wine, if wines were colors, aubergine is dark, tasteful, and goes well with fish. I predict it will be the breakout color for next season.
(Quinn, Stacy and Tiffany clap)
Sandi - Fellow pundits, it's time to go to press.
(View of spinning page that stops at a close-up showing, Fashion Club Forecast Cut to hallway of Lawndale High school, and the Fashion Club seated behind a table to sell newsletters. Sandi holds up a copy as a crowd gathers)
Sandi - Friends and followers. As President of the Fashion Club, I am proud to announce the first issue of our cutting-edge publication. Predicting upcoming trends in personal deportment, while providing underwriting to a deserving cause.
Joey - Um, what are you selling?
Sandi - Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. Our newsletter is dedicated to the art of looking good, or at least better than those around you.
Jeffy - A fashion magazine? Uh...
(Boys begin to disperse)
Jamie - Uh, no.
Joey - Next time.
Quinn - Will you buy one from me?
(Boys race back)
Joey - Sure! I'll take one.
Jamie - I'll take two!
Jeffy - Make it three... uh, no, five!
(Daria and Jane at Daria's locker while the 3 J's walk past)
Joey - "An Ode to Aubergine"?
Jamie - "A Good Pluck"?
Jeffy - "Please Remember to Blush"?
Jane - There must be a lot going on in the boys room that we don't know about.
Daria - And really, isn't that as it should be?
Jane (points with thumb)- Hey, maybe Quinn should publish your story.
Daria - Nah, it's full of sentences that don't begin with 'I.' Besides, I, um, already submitted it to a magazine. Tom's idea.
Jane - Tom liked your story? That's great. See, what do I know about literature?
Daria - What does he?
Jane - Was I being enthusiastic again? I'm sorry.
Daria - You didn't mean anything by it.
(Mr. O'Neill's classroom)
Mr. O'Neill - Although the great Greek dramatist Aeschylus wrote a staggering eighty plays, only seven of them are available to us. Does anyone know why?
Kevin - The rest are still in Greece?
Mr. O'Neill (sighs) - Huh. Anyone else? (beat) Daria?
Daria - The remaining plays were destroyed.
Mr. O'Neill - That's right. All of them, gone. Can you imagine Aeschylus's feelings?
Jane - Heh, I bet he's not even thinking about it.
Mr. O'Neill. Daria, how would you feel if the story you wrote were lost to mankind forever. If every last copy of Musings Magazine were somehow, set aflame.
Jodie - Wow, you've been published in Musings?
Brittany - I know what you mean. I wrote to the Embarrassing Moments column in Teen Babe magazine about Kevin's gaseous problem when we're making out, and I never heard back from them.
Kevin - Babe!
Brittany - Kevin, it's okay. The important thing is that I tried.
Kevin (lowers head to desk and covers it with his arms) - Aww!
Mr. O'Neill (brief laugh) - Daria, what were you saying?
Daria - Never mind, I think you've said it all.
Mr. O'Neill - Excuse me? (realizes what he did) Oh, oh dear. Um, sorry.
(Daria and Jane at Jane's locker)
Jane - He meant well, for a teacher who does nothing well.
Daria - I'm reminded of my father.
Jane - What? Why?
Daria - Because I can't get the phrase, "damn idiot teachers with their damn idiot brains," out of my head.
Jodie - Hey, Daria, congratulations. A published story, that's amazing.
(Kevin and Brittany enter)
Daria - Um, it's not exactly published. I sent it in, but I haven't heard back.
Kevin - Then why are you telling everyone that it's been published?
Jane - Oh, you know Daria and her compulsive need to impress.
Brittany - Oh! But then, instead of making up stuff about writing, shouldn't you pick something good?
Daria - How's this. During the day, I'm a mild-mannered student. But at night, I fight crime in a stretchy-stretchy costume.
Kevin - Cool! I didn't know that.
Brittany - She doesn't really.
Kevin - But she just said.
Brittany - Kevie, you're so gullible.
(Brittany drags Kevin away)
Kevin - She wears it on weekends, come on.
Jodie - You know, my mother gets Musings and their fiction is awful. I bet you'll have no trouble getting in.
Daria - Gee, thanks.
Jodie - That's not what I meant.
Daria (sighs) - I know, thanks.
Jodie - Good luck.
(Jodie exits and Ms. Barch enters)
Ms. Barch - Daria, in the name of Jane Austin, Emily Dickinson, Anne Bronte, Emily Bronte, and Charlotte Bronte, I want to say, "You go, girl!"
Jane - That's just how they would have put it.
Daria - Who told you?
Ms. Barch - Er, uh, um, nobody. It certainly didn't come up during anything other than normal in-school chitchat among colleagues. Fully dressed. With no oils involved.
Daria - Ever have one of those moments that no shower, no matter the duration nor the temperature, can ever erase?
Jane - I'm leaning toward trauma-induced amnesia myself. Punch my head, would ya?
(Exterior of Morgendorffer home, cut to Daria walking by open bedroom door and Jake excitedly coming out)
Jake - Daria! Guess what! I found my old song lyrics. Here, I'll sing them for you.
(Jake runs back inside his bedroom)
(Daria walks back toward room)
Jake - Get ready to hear some dope beats!
(Daria stops at door and looks in. Jake is set up with an electronic keyboard with built-in drum machine)
Quinn (VO) - Ohh!
(Daria turns and exits)
Jake (singing) - Hey! We're the guys they call cadets, where here to serve... our... nation.
(Jake stops singing as he realizes that Daria is gone)
Jake - Daria?
(Fashion club on sofa, reading issue of Waif)
Quinn - I can't believe all our newsletter predictions were wrong! Hems hike up, heels fall down, tweezing isn't pleasing, and dark colors like aubergine, are over.
Sandi - Who would have thought that brightly comic tones like peach and lemon would suddenly come into vogue. I need to be alone.
Tiffany - This is so sad.
Stacy - Why does everything always happen to us?
(Stacy and Tiffany begin crying as Daria enters)
Daria - Let me guess. The Wide World of Wool was preempted for an emergency State of the Union Address.
Quinn - Even worse. Waif's What's Hot and What's Rot issue just came, and what we though was out and in is not now our careers as fashion prognosticators are over!
Daria - I'll go lower the flag to half-mast.
(Daria notices letter from Musings on table and takes it to the kitchen to read)
Daria - Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read your work. (beat) I've been rejected.
(Evening, interior of Sloane front door, Tom answers to reveal Daria outside)
Tom - Daria! Come in.
(Daria doesn't move)
Tom - Is everything okay?
Daria - No, everything's not okay. Musings rejected my story.
Tom - Really? I can't believe it.
Daria - Don't worry, you'll get over it. I knew it wasn't good enough to be published.
Tom - Okay, so maybe it was the wrong place. Or just a bad editor. There are lots of magazines out there. Send it somewhere else.
Daria - It's not enough to get rejected once, you want me to get rejected dozens of times?
Tom - Come on. It happens to everyone. One try and you give up?
Daria - Uncle.
Tom - Daria, you're not listening to what I'm saying.
Daria - Hey, I listened when you told me to send it in, and look what happened. Now you want me to keep submitting it so I can live in a state of perpetual misery. God, you're insensitive.
Tom - No, I'm supportive. But you're too thick-headed to notice. I liked that story, I thought it was smart, funny and insightful. None of which I could say about you right now.
Daria - Gee, thanks. See ya.
(Daria walks away)
Tom - Why don't you just grow up? (pause) Or not.
(Lawndale High School hallway. Fashion club behind table with banner saying "Newsletter recall" above them)
Sandi - Attention! Due to a senseless act of sabotage currently under investigation by investigators. The articles in our newsletter were altered prior to publication and without our knowledge. We are therefore rectifying the situation by issuing refunds.
(Crowd of students gather around to get refunds)
Stacy - So, everyone, just ignore everything you read.
(Crowd stands with blank expression)
Quinn - You... didn't read it at all, did you?
(Crowd shakes their heads)
Tiffany - Being an author sucks.
Jeffy - Do you want us to read it now?
Fashion Club - No!
(At dumpster behind high school. Fashion club is discarding the newsletter)
Tiffany - These dumpsters are gross.
Stacy - What do you think this stuff is that looks like vomit?
Sandi - Stacy!
Stacy - Sorry.
Quinn - I guess we aren't going to make our fundraising goal.
Stacy - It's just so unfair that you have to do something to get a plaque.
Sandi - Hmm.
(Daria walking past her parents' room)
Jake (VO) - Daria!
(Daria sighs and goes into bedroom. Jake is in front of electronic keyboard)
Jake - There you are. I've been waiting all day to sing you this song.
(He pushes several buttons on keyboard to start a drumbeat)
Daria - Um, okay.
Jake (singing and marching in place) - Hey!. We're the guys they call cadets, we're here to serve our nation, fighting stinking foreigners right after graduation. We have learned to make our beds, shine our boots all gleamy, when we put on our dress blues, we really look quite dreamy.
(Daria stares at him)
Jake (sad) - Corporal Ellenbogen was right.
Daria - Um, the tune is catchy.
Jake - It sucks! (beat) Damn drum machine!
(Jake grabs keyboard by cord and throws it to the floor)
Jake - Agh! (pause) I'm a failure.
Daria - Dad, you made up one song when you were a teenager and it's not the best thing ever written, and that makes you a failure?
Jake - Well, that's one of the things.
Daria - So your reach exceeded your grasp. I'd rather have that happen to me than the opposite.
Jake - What do you mean?
Daria - You know what good is, that's how you know you didn't achieve it. That's a lot better than if you were putting out crap and thinking it was great.
Jake - It is?
Daria - You came up short because you were aiming high.
Jake - Your right, Daria! I did! I went out on a limb and took a chance. That took guts, didn't it?
(Jake kneels down and sets keyboard back up)
Daria - Um, yes. Yes it did.
Jake - Damn right Kiddo!
(Jake starts drum rhythm again)
Jake (singing) - Gutsy Jakey went to town, riding in a Lexus, missed his star but did aim far... um.
Daria - Who cares what jerk rejects us?
Jake - Who cares what jerk rejects us. Yeah!
(Fashion club in girls bathroom of Lawndale High. Sandy holds plaque while Stacy looks through a camcorder)
Sandi - And so, as part of our continuing effort to improve the quality of life for the students of Lawndale High, the Fashion Club is pleased to present this plaque. Commemorating, this plaque. (Sandi walks to blank section of wall to hang plaque) Because, as my grandmother says, whenever she tries to give me some horrible peasant blouse from like, the Haight-Ashtray period of American history.
(Close up of plaque that reads, "Lawndale High Fashion Club. We Mean Well")
Sandi - It's the thought that counts.
Quinn - Oh, Sandi. That was great.
Tiffany - Really moving.
Stacy (looking at camcorder) - Um, does the red light thingy have to be on to record?
(Tom answers ringing telephone in the Sloane living room)
Tom - Hello.
Daria (VO) - Um, hi.
(Split screen of Daria and Tom)
Daria - I'm cooking up a delicious juicy crow tonight and thought you might like to come over for a drumstick.
Tom - Oh, I'm not hungry... but I'll watch you eat.
(Daria opens front door of Morgendorffer home for Tom)
Tom (sniffs) - Mmmm. That crow smells good.
(Daria looks away. Cut to Daria's bedroom. She stands at computer chair while Tom stands nearby)
Daria - Well, we both know why I asked you here.
Tom - Not me, no idea.
(Daria sits down)
Tom - None whatsoever.
Daria - Fine, I deserve that. Look, I'm... sorry. You were being supportive. I was the one acting like... you know.
Tom - You can do it, rhymes with clerk.
Daria - Shut up. So, forgiveness and whatnot?
Tom - Eh, you've suffered enough.
(Helen quietly opens door)
Tom - For today.
Helen - Tom, Daria. Can I get you anything?
Daria - I'll have a big glass of human growth hormone.
Helen - Coming right up! I mean, I'll be back with some snacks.
Daria - Better talk fast, she's been doing speed drills.
Tom - So, you're over the rejection letter?
Daria (from memory) - What letter? Oh, wait. You mean the one that said, "Dear Ms. Morgendorffer. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read your work. It's not right for us at this time, but please keep us in mind for future submissions." Gee, I'd almost forgotten.
Helen (VO) - Daria, we're out of cheese. Would you like pretzels?
Tom - That's what it said? To submit again?
Daria - Yeah. Don't they always say that?
Tom - No, Daria. That's great. My teacher got a one-line note. Musings regrets that your material is unsuitable.
Daria - Really?
Helen (VO) How about some pineapple chunks? In their own juice or heavy syrup? You decide.
Tom - Editors never encourage people unless they think they really have something, and that's not often.
Daria - Let's see if I've got this straight. The editors didn't like my story, they don't want to publish it, but they do look forward to rejecting me in the future. And that's good.
Tom - Congratulations.
Daria - It's great to be a writer.
Tom - And such a cheerful writer.
(Daria and Tom kiss just as Helen walks in)
Helen - Rice cakes? Oh, God! No!
(She drops tray and looks away in shock)
(Exterior view of Morgendorffer home, cut to Daria's room. She is at computer, Jane is sitting on bed, looking into mirrors and drawing, presumably a self-portrait)
Jane - Do you think Helen will ever recover from the tell-tale smooch?
Daria - All we can do for her now is be there when she's ready to talk.
Jane - How's that coming, by the way?
Daria - Good. Really good.
(View over Daria's shoulder at computer monitor as is shows a first-person shooter game in progress. After the target dies, a word processor window comes up)
Daria - But I guess I'll get back to my writing.