Snow Ball
in Hell
©2008 The Angst Guy (theangstguy@yahoo.com)
Daria and associated characters are ©2008 MTV Networks
Feedback (good, bad, indifferent, just want to bother me, whatever) is appreciated. Please write to: theangstguy@yahoo.com
Synopsis: Mrs. Johanssen collects souvenir snow balls—but only of a certain kind, as Tricia Gupty discovers.
Author’s Notes: “You are
challenged to write a story that contains at least five of the following,”
wrote Angelinhel in late October 2005, for a PPMB Iron Chef. Her list of potential
elements included:
a cup of coffee
an iPod
a donkey
a Sharpie marker
a poodle
a reference to “the Noodle Incident”
the Tank
the sculpture in the front yard of the Lane house
Jake’s Lexus
a kitten
a slice of processed cheese
Angelinhel also asked that the story have at least two of the following characters:
Tricia Gupty
Mrs. Johanssen
Mr. DeMartino
Burnout Girl [“Jennifer,” a background character based on MTV director Karen Disher]
Tiffany Blum-Deckler
Elsie Sloane
This
story was my entry. The spelling of Mrs. Johanssen’s name is taken from the MTV
Daria website (http://www.mtv.com/onair/daria/encyclopedia/),
“The Definitive Daria,” Chapter One. Her interest in snow domes (a.k.a. “snow
balls,” those plastic souvenir domes with scenic dioramas inside, which feature
fake snow if you shake them up) was documented in the second-season episode,
“That Was Then, This Is Dumb.” “Popular Girl” is the nameless blonde from
Brittany’s party in “The Invitation,” usually called “Tori Jericho” in fanfic. The
script style was borrowed from fanfic author Scissors MacGillicutty, who had
himself borrowed it from C. E. Forman’s fanfics.
When you read the song lyrics, think
AC/DC for music. Enjoy!
Acknowledgements: Thanks, Angelinhel!
*
SNOW BALL IN HELL
A Rock Video Script
EXT. MRS. JOHANSSEN’S HOUSE. DAY.
(We see young Tricia Gupty wearing a pink poodle skirt and white sweater walk
up to the door and stand up on her toes to ring the bell. Parked by the curb,
her parents watch and wait. After a moment, the door opens and Mrs. Johanssen
is there.)
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (loud voice) Well, look who’s here! My little “Sunday for Shut-ins” visitor! (drops voice) I hope you brought me a present.
TRICIA: (low voice) Three Snickers.
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (loud voice, waves to Tricia’s parents) Well, come on in! Make yourself comfortable! (shuts door)
(Mr. and Mrs. Gupty smile happily and drive away.)
CUT TO:
INT. MRS. JOHANSSEN’S LIVING ROOM.
(The living-room furniture looks like it came out of the 1950s. The room lacks a TV set. The wood-paneled walls are lined with shelves on which rest many dozens of snow balls, the little plastic souvenirs that scatter fake snow over the scenes within when shaken. Tricia Gupty enters the room and walks over to a low shelf jammed with snow balls, looking them over with great interest. Mrs. Johanssen waddles in behind her, already eating one of the three giant-size Snickers bars.)
TRICIA: Which one can I look at today, Mrs. Johanssen?
(Mrs. Johanssen holds up a hand, not ready to answer yet because her mouth is full. Tricia spots a snow ball that rivets her attention.)
TRICIA: (excited) Oh, this one! Can I look at this one? This one looks so cool!
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (swallows last of Snickers bar, squints) Oh, that one. Yeah, sure, I guess you can look at it. You remember how to start it?
TRICIA: (nods, excited) Uh-huh! Close my eyes, swirl it around three times, and say, “Part the darkness—”
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (startled, motions for Tricia to stop talking) No! Don’t say it yet! What did I tell you about doing that?
TRICIA: (contrite) Oops. Sorry.
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (glares) Be careful, okay? Those things aren’t toys! They’ve got real power! (wads up Snickers wrapper and drops it in a waste can, lowers voice) Each one of ‘em took me years to find. I must’ve been to a million yard sales. (waddles over to an overstuffed sofa and sits down, grimacing) Oh, my poor feet. (kicks off shoes)
(Tricia takes the snow ball and walks over to sit on the sofa beside Mrs. Johanssen.)
TRICIA: See which one this is? (holds up snow ball)
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (without a glance) I saw it. (puts other two Snickers bars down on the sofa beside her, licks her fingers clean of melted chocolate) Go ahead and look if you want. I’m gonna rest a spell. Been on my feet all morning, cleaning house.
TRICIA: Thanks, Mrs. Johanssen! (raises snow ball to her face, closes eyes, swirls the snow ball around three times) Part the darkness, Oh Goddess, break the walls of the world, let my vision take wing o’er the serpent that’s curled under ocean and clouds where the lightning is hurled—part the darkness, Oh Goddess, break the walls of the world!
(SFX: sound of wind rising, though no visible effect; a woman’s voice, holding a high note, comes in and rises over the wind)
(The snow ball begins to glow in Tricia’s hand. Her face reflects wonder and awe—and delight at what is to come. Mrs. Johanssen glances over, sighs, and gives the snow ball a half smile and a nod.)
CUT TO:
TRICIA’S POV: THE CLEAR-DOMED SNOW BALL IN HER HAND
(We close in on the snowball, which shows a group of five figures holding rock-band instruments on a stage. Behind the figures is a black banner with the red-lettered words: THE FURIES.)
FADE TO:
INT. ROCK BAND DRESSING ROOM.
(SFX: Muffled roar of an unseen audience numbering in the tens of thousands.)
(Five figures are in the ramshackle dressing room, lit by naked bulbs dangling on wires overhead. Andrea, dressed in her usual gray-and-black Goth outfit, touches up her Eye of Horus makeup with a Sharpie marker while peering into a hand mirror. Her gray T-shirt says in white letters: BITE ME. Jennifer the Burnout Girl, looking the same as ever in her black leather jacket, torn jeans, and peek-a-boo hair, calmly drinks a cup of coffee while sitting in a chair set against a wall, beside an old coffeemaker on a table. Elsie Sloane wears a pink T-shirt with a colorful drawing of a squashed, road-kill kitten on it, with the legend: CUTE SUCKS. She reads a letter while chewing gum. Dawn, wearing her usual iPod and earphones, also wears a black leather jacket and black leather biker pants; she tunes up a bass guitar. Popular Girl (the one sometimes called Tori Jericho in fanfic) is eating a slice of processed cheese from a pack of the same.)
(A man opens the dressing room door and leans in.)
STAGE HAND: Hey, the Angry Toads are done, and Flaxen just cancelled! Stage is ready! You’re up! Let’s go! (waits at door)
(All the girls stand up and put down everything they’re holding, except Dawn, who keeps her bass guitar.)
ANDREA: (loud) All right, let’s show ‘em who’s got a pair!
ELSIE: Let’s do it!
(The girls file out quickly, following Andrea.)
CUT TO:
INT: CORRIDOR LEADING TO CONCERT STAGE
(The girls move quickly, appearing energized. Stagehands call to them, and the girls wave back and grin.)
STAGE HANDS: Kick some ass! Do it to it! Break a leg! Yes! Rrrrowrrr!
ANDREA: We’re gonna break more than just legs!
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTDOOR CONCERT STAGE. NIGHT
(SFX: Tremendous sustained roar from the crowd as the band members come into view.)
(The girls file out onto the stage and pick up their instruments. Andrea seats herself in the middle of an enormous percussion set-up, heavy with drums; the audience has a clear view of her in the rear center of the stage, as her seat is elevated. Microphones are in place around her. She picks up drumsticks and looks around. Elsie Sloane picks a tambourine off a stool and stands by a microphone. Jennifer the Burnout Girl picks up a lead guitar and solemnly checks it. Popular Girl picks up a rhythm guitar, and Dawn already has her bass guitar. All guitarists tune up, even Dawn, then signal readiness.)
ANNOUNCER (VO): (loud) Alternapalooza, it’s time to give it up for the main attraction. Here they are—The Furies!
(SFX: Titanic roar from audience.)
(The band members nod to the audience and glance at each other.)
ANDREA: One, two, three!
(She hits her drums. The Furies lash out with a violent, energetic, hard-rock opener.)
ANDREA: (sings)
The
last
Boyfriend
I had was found hanged by the neck,
And
then the
One
before that, he lost his life in a wreck,
And
now you’re
Coming
on strong, you think that you’ve got a chance,
But
I can
Maim with a smile, yeah, I can kill with a glance—
ANDREA, ELSIE, AND POPULAR GIRL: (sing)
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’ll
turn you into a shell,
I am the Angel from Hell!
ANDREA: (sings)
You
think that
You’ve
known misery, you think you’ve been through the worst,
But
with a
Touch
of my finger, I can make your heart burst,
You’ll
think the
Devil’s
got you down, you’ll think that fate’s got you licked,
You’ll
think your
Karma’s lost control when it’s by me you’ve been kicked—
ANDREA, ELSIE, AND POPULAR GIRL: (sing)
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’ll
lock you deep in my cell,
‘Cause I’m the Angel from Hell!
ANDREA: (sings)
I
never
Said
I was nice, I never said I was sweet,
I
never
Said
I’d respect you even under the sheets,
I
never
Promised
I’d love you, never said I’d be true,
I
never
Said I wouldn’t kill you—are you getting a clue?
ANDREA, ELSIE, AND POPULAR GIRL: (sing)
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’ll
make your skeleton gel,
Yeah, I’m the Angel from Hell!
ANDREA: (sings)
There
is no
Place
for you to hide in, all your time has expired,
There
is no
Point
in you a-running, ‘cause you’ll only die tired,
If
I were
You,
I’d start to digging, make that grave deep and large,
‘Cause
it’s a
Sick Sad World, and I’m the bitch who’s in charge!
ANDREA, ELSIE, AND POPULAR GIRL: (sing)
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I’m
the Angel from Hell!
I
ain’t no Miss Manners belle,
Oh, I’m your Angel . . . your Angel from Hell!
(The group winds up in a long guitar riff ending with a crash of loud, wild chords.)
(SFX: Deafening screams and cheers from audience.)
(Sweating and happy, the band members of the Furies prepare for into their next song, but—)
FADE INTO:
TRICIA’S POV: THE CLEAR-DOMED SNOW BALL IN HER HAND
(We pull back from the snowball, which shows the group of rock-star figures on the stage. The snow has settled at their feet.)
CUT TO:
INT. TRICIA AND MRS. JOHANSSEN SITTING ON THE SOFA
TRICIA: (holding snow ball, excited and loud) Whoa, that shit was bitchin’! That totally fucking rocked!
MRS. JOHANSSEN: (unwrapping another Snickers bar) Eh, it was okay. Pick another one.
TRICIA: Thanks!
(Tricia gets off the couch and hurries out of the picture. Mrs. Johanssen focuses on her candy bar and shakes her head with a tolerant smile.)
FADE OUT
Original: 12/12/05; modified 10/01/06, 07/26/08
FINIS