A Chunk Of A Conversation


A 'Daria' fan fiction by Brother Grimace



(This is based on the killing game started on PPMB back in August of 2006. Within, I made a comment that 'if I were to have killed Helen, I would have exiled her to the Isle of Lesbos without even the clothes on her back. I do not know how long she would have survived, but she certainly would have found Heaven.'


This ficlet occurs immediately following that posted comment.







(Quinn appears at the door of Daria's room. Daria, reading How To Read A Book, glances up at her.)


Daria: Oh, look. A cute redhead with a gaggle of three followers. All we need now is a small dog, cute red shoes and a F5 tornado, and my day of peace will be complete.


Quinn: (hesitantly) Uh... Daria?


Daria: (sighs) Yes, Quinn?


Quinn: Well, you know that thread where they're killing us off on PPMB?


Daria: Yes. (V.O.) Rest in pieces, Tommy boy.


Quinn: Uh, last night that creepy Black guy who REALLY needs to shave that stupid beard off - I mean, it doesn't make him look rugged, it makes him look as if somebody took a photo of SANTA CLAUS and kept the negative and said, 'Hey, look, isn't this YOU?' - but of course it couldn't be because Santa DOESN'T have a receding hairline and he has MUCH cuter glasses - you know, the little wire ones that just sit right there at the tip of his nose while he's reading the Christmas lists from all the good little boys and girls and seem like they're JUST about to fall off - but of course, he's Santa Claus, so they never do.


Daria: Quinn - was there something that you wanted to ask me buried somewhere in all of that...?


Quinn: Oh - RIGHT! (giggles nervously) Well... that guy made a crack-


Daria: Only when he sits on wicker furniture.


Quinn: Good one, Daria! (beat) ANYWAY, he SAID that if he had been the one to kill off Mom - Oh, God! They killed off Mom!


Daria: The bastards.


Quinn: They killed off Dad!


Daria: Yet somehow, the world didn't tilt over on its axis and begin to weep. (pause) Quinn, you DO know that it's a popularity game, don't you? You DO know that they're not REALLY dead, right?


Quinn: Oh, of course I did! I just wanted to know if YOU new, and that you weren't, like, heartbroken, or scared, or whatever. (laughs nervously)


Daria: It'll be tough - I will need peer counseling - but I'm sure that someday, I'll work my way through the pain.


Quinn: He made a comment about Mom and the Isle of Lesbos. Why would Mom want to go into that store downtown, and shop in that aisle...?


(Daria winces)


Daria: He was making a reference to a famous island where a poetess named Sappho did some of her most famous works, Quinn.


Quinn: Ohhhhh. (beat) Well, why would he think Mom would want to go there?


Daria: Well, she probably wouldn't now. (beat) However, there are stories about what Mom was like back during her college days.


Quinn: Oh. (pause) You mean, she experimented...


Daria: (raising her eyebrow) Well, other girls experimented...


Quinn: And Mom?


Daria: Head of the Manhattan Project.


Quinn: Oh.  (pause) If that's true, then how did we end up here?


Daria: Think of Mom as a nuclear reactor.


Quinn: Okay.


Daria: Now think of Dad.


Quinn: I don't get it.


Daria: Control rod.


Quinn: (face scrunching up) EWWWWWWWW! (runs off)


Daria: (turning back to her book) And once again, order is restored.





3 October 2006