*usual copyright disclaimer: CHANT: Characters are not mine,
um-lalalalala*** they are property of
MTV -
um, lalalalala*** this story is meant to work into the story arc left
from Is It Fall Yet and Season 4 of Daria -- all inspiration
is attributed to the script writers at MTV***um, lalalalala******anyone who 
uses this piece without my
permission will find out really quick if hexes work**um, lalalalala*****etc.


In a Nutshell
by medea42

This is taken from "It Happened One Nut" in what
appears to be an evolving series of Trent's perspective
vignettes. I'm the writer, *shrug* ask my Muse.


You've hijacked my brain
Moth to a flame
If you don't release me
I'll go insane
-We got that from Jane

Jesse and Trent meant to write lyrics, really. But
the Discovery channel called and for some reason
became all the more interesting without the cool
animal attacks.

"Shouldn't we write some lyrics?" Jesse asked about
halfway through the show.

"Nah man, I think this thing on pheromones might
inspire us."

The show actually was interesting, in a non-boring way.
Most of the program focused on how mammals send chemical
signals to potential mates. The last few minutes
focused on humans, how they used perfumes and
colognes to communicate their availability --
a way to "shout" their presence over a crowd
of competition. The last few minutes of the
show focused on how the scents worked for humans,
and how perfumes acted as a booster to natural
pheromones. The program even gave a little
information on why perfumes "worked" for and on
some people, and not on others.

That made sense. Monique always wore this perfume
that Trent remembered in a peculiar evocative way;
one time when he was hanging out with her and Janey
Janey tried some of it, and it didn't smell the
same. Not as appealing, nor as powerful.

The last five minutes of the show talked about
how men responded sexually to food laced with
pheromones -- especially cinnamon, vanilla and
to a lesser degree, honey. Trent normally would
have had munchies after the last bit, but once
the TV clicked off the creative drive commenced.

Trent and Jesse spent way too long arguing about
the A diminished or A seventh cord. The whole
argument fell into their procrastination language:
they both felt blocked. Totally. Nothing flowed,
not even the right notes for "Smell of Corruption."
By 4 am the silent language of blocked creativity
came to a petulant standoff.

"It's gotta be the diminished cord, "Trent argued.
"It sounds right that way."

"But my hand cramps!" Jesse whined. "I can't play
it if my hand hurts too much to finger the chord!"

"Quit bitching about cramps, man!" Trent knew he
was overtired. "The pain is part of the art, man."

"Hey!" when overtired, Jesse, in opposition to Trent,
could sometimes groove. "Part of the art, still
tweaking my heart -"

They continued to produce, starting, stopping and
shuddering like a Tank run on musical creation.

Jesse and Trent were awakened by their grumbling
stomachs and the grumble that they still did not
finish the song they meant to develop.

"What time is it?" Jesse moaned, reaching out for
a soda can, or beer, or something.

"Uh..." Trent heard the TV. Janey was home. "Around
4, maybe?" he brushed himself off, in hopes of
removing any debris gained from his bed. Janey
hated it when he trailed crumbs into her room.

Jesse followed him to Jane's room. Trent suspected
that Jesse liked checking on Jane with him for
reasons differing from Trent's brotherly affection.
If something happened to remove a vestige of doubt
about Jesse's feeling, Trent would have to pound him.
They'd still be best friends; the occasional murder
in defense of sibling honor would never affect
their friendship.

Jane was at her easel, drawing blue streaks in
strange directions. Her friend Daria sat on the
bed, watching TV. More of that Sick Sad World show.
That Daria watched it, too, was an indicator of
present and future coolness to Trent. She already
appreciated society's decay. She'd be awesome
to hang out with someday.

"Hi Jane, Hey Daria" he greeted them.

"Hi," Daria mumbled.

Jane stopped painting to look at Trent and Jesse.
She only stopped painting when her creative zone
was running on limited operations; evidently
she was having a rough day too. "Wo, what happened
to you guys?"

Apparently the long night showed on Trent and Jesse
more than they thought; Trent assumed his usual
state of disarray normally made it impossible for
him to look disheveled.

"We were up all night, trying to write a new song."
The exhaustion and paint fumes were playing tricks
on him. For some reason, his mind kept wandering
back to Jane's bed, and to nuts. Nuts on her bed.
Honey roasted nuts. Yum. Even in his nut-trance,
he managed to maintain his argument about the
diminished cord. Jesse could be such a whiny bitch.

"For some reason," he said as the haze cleared, "I'm
really craving some honey-roasted peanuts." And a bed.
Trent interpreted this as too tired to eat.

Trent assumed he'd sleep off the craving along with
the weirdness in Jane's room. His dreams disagreed
with him -- and only increased his craving. Images
flashed through his mind of him standing with Janey's
friend while the sky rained peanuts on them. Then,
in that transitionless transition only sleep has, he
saw Monique, wearing a nutshell bra and cracking
walnuts on his chest, spraying her perfume from a
bottle filled with cashews. He turned his head back
towards her in his dream, and instead of Monique,
it was Daria, sitting on a bed of nuts -- and the
figure flashed; Monique, Daria, Monique.

Janey woke him up just as he started gritting his
teeth from the craving. "Hey Trent, can you give
me a ride to the mall?"

He wanted some peanuts anyway. "Sure Janey, just
give me a minute."

Trent woke Jesse up after making sure Jane left
the room. Much as he'd like to catch Jesse off guard
and discover for sure the man's intentions towards
his little sister,  it was probably best that she
didn't find out. Today provided no clues, though:
after shaking Jesse awake and handling a panicked
moment where Jesse belligerently charged one of
Trent's guitars with stealing his tequila -
"Jimador*, you jerk!" Trent corralled Jesse into a state
where he was OK for a trip to the mall.

At the mall, Janey got weird, instead of Jesse. She
started off to get paints, and then did a total about
face when he mentioned nuts.

"Let's all get a snack together!" Jane announced.
Jane usually did the whole on-her-own shtick unless
the Lane collective was threatened. She marched
in front of Trent and Jesse, proposing one snack after
another.

"Buffalo wings! Pizza! Cheese fries -- c'mon, my treat!"
When she started pointing and yelling "Naked models
on monster trucks!" Trent was afraid if he turned his head
she'd knock him out and take his wallet for whatever
good reason she'd give him later.


"No way man," he finally said. "Those nuts have
hijacked my brain."

Jesse added, from his own sector of universe, "Moth
to a flame." He understood; the guy obsession with
food, with a prey that must be hunted, even in
the bizarre slackerness of the hunt now engaged.

Trent gave Jesse an appreciative look, and as their
eyes met, the unheard snap that meant song creation
began their roll:

"You've hijacked my brain..."
"Moth to a flame..."
"If you don't release me..."

Trent had to have those nuts. Crazy images from his
dreams, the reflective sparkle of the song, new honey
on his lips tasting like a kiss from a new girl,
raining peanuts and beautiful women laced with
guitars.

A few more lines were trashed. "You're driving me
insane!" Jane shouted.

Trent considered. "Nah, too many syllables."

At last, the nut stand. The end of his hunt. Now,
only to order, to fling the money like an arrow
and to grasp his prey and eat it. Some dopey looking
kid was working.

"I want some honey roasted nuts," Trent told him.
The kid was taking forever, smiled at him, said
something about "Hey, nutty nutty." Irritating,
but minor compared to his ecstasy when united with
those peanuts.

The kid finally went over and banged on the door
to the back room. "Hey Daria!" he yelled. "I need
some help!"

"Daria!?"

Jane inserted, "Not that Daria, oh no, she's not here-"
confirming his suspicion.

A montage formed in Trent's mind; You've hijacked
my brain voiced over the dream images from earlier
that day. Raining peanuts while he stood with Daria,
and the strange interchange between Monique and Daria
when the imagery turned erotic. In the far back
of his mind, Trent could here the announcer from
the Discovery program: "Human males respond powerfully
to food smells, particularly when connected with
pheromones." Food and girl. Nuts and Daria.
Daria! He needed to leave and process, and
save Daria some embarrassment too. She probably didn't
even know all of what she did that she might feel
that way, this time.

"Uh, that's OK, I don't need any!" He was afraid
of what he would dream if he saw Daria in that
awful squirrel hat. And, considering her age - eep!
He'd dreamed that about someone her age!? She would
live better without seeing him this time.

Jesse didn't get it. "But they hijacked your brain."
He could stay confused this time.

"Now my brain has been hijacked by a burger," Trent
told him and left as fast as possible. He steered
Jesse far from the nut stand and made sure he
did not look back. It would take too long to explain
what happened, so Trent left it at his weird
appetites.

Better than telling his best friend that Daria
had hijacked his brain.


* Jimador is a brand of tequila only available
in Mexico