Start: Mr. O’Neill’s classroom

Mr. O’Neill: Now, alright, class, who can tell me their poetry that they wrote? Kevin, how about you? Would you like to read your poem aloud to the class?

Kevin: Sure. (reciting) I am a QB, and that is what I plan to be: the QB. I date Brittany, my babe, yes, and before I go to a game, I dress as a QB.

Mr. O’Neill: Kevin...um...very nice. Daria?

Daria: Why does he always pick on me?

Jane: You’re the special one, aren’t you?

Daria: God save me.

Mr. O’Neill: Would you like to read your poem aloud to the class?

Daria: Why not? (reciting) Bloody from below... There was an innocent stare with a fake emotional feeling and a hellish grin from a child. Blood seeps and pours through my skin...I can never grin...I am blood. I am from below. I arise with blood on my shoulders because I am blood from hell—bloody from hell—bloody from below.

Mr. O’Neill: Very...interesting, Daria.

(bell rings)

Daria and Jane converse in hallway going out from school.

Jane: Very interesting. Sharing your writings, Daria, that’s a major step up, isn’t it?

Daria: Shut up. I’ll never share my works again.

Jane: Reality check.

Tom: Hey.

Daria: Hi.

Tom: Ride home?

Daria: Sure.

Jane: I’ll call ya later.

(on drive to Morgendorffer house)

Daria: Why the ride?

Tom: Important question.

Daria: Darn, my evil plan has been discovered.

Tom: Since you’re off next Monday...

Daria: I’m planning on murdering a cat.

Tom: ...I was wondering if you wanted to visit my school. We’re supposed to rope in a friend or person just to make them go to damn prep school but I need someone to go and I was wondering if you wanted to come.

Daria: Sure. Sounds...fun.

Tom: Now I can finally show my school my five-star girlfriend and her sarcasm.

Daria: But let me make a mockery of E.T. first.

Tom: Come on, Daria. The preps at my school aren’t diseased... (pause to think) Well at least it’s not contagious.

Daria: Alright. I’ll go.

Tom: Great. See you later.

Tom slows at the Morgendorffer house and Daria gets out.

Tom: Come to my house at about 8. Bye.

Tom drives away.

Daria: Abandon all hopes.

Helen enters inside Daria’s bedroom and sits down.

Daria: And you walked in on me making my movie. I confess, I took the last cookie from the cookie jar.

Helen: You’re off Monday, right Daria?

Daria: Depends on what off means.

Helen: Daria...

Daria: If I’m off like school then, yes, I’m off. But if it means helping you out at the office because Mary Anne is taking another damn vacation, no, I’m not off.

Helen: Would you, Daria?

Daria: I don’t double book. And if I ever did, I’d be sure to not as Quinn’s advice when she double books dates.

Helen: So could you, honey?

Daria: Let’s ponder the different aspects of a girl wasting her life as a child doing adult things...

Helen: Daria...you’re not being reasonable. I’ll get you that new computer software.

Daria: You’ve tempted me to the edge, Mom, but I just can’t jump with you.

Helen: And fifty dollars.

Daria: I don’t double book since I do not as many interesting things as Quinn. Meaning I’m busy.

Helen: Oh. (gets more curious) Doing what?

Daria: Seeing hell from my boyfriend’s view.

Helen: What are you doing with Tom, sweetie? Oh, that’s so nice.

Daria: Visiting his school. He wants to show me off so I thought, ‘Hey. Why not give the kid something to brag about? I mean, I am Daria Morgendorffer, aren’t I?’

Helen: His school? Daria, you can’t just go to a preparatory school with your—uh—manner of addressing those who are placed in authority.

Daria: So what you’re saying is that I speak to people offensively?

Helen: Well...

Daria: What? Should I put on a dress? Should I update my lip gloss database and get advice from Oh Red One?

Helen: Of course not, honey.

Daria: Then I can wear painter’s jeans as well as my Alternapalooza shirt.

Helen: Just go as you are, Daria. But just mind your Ps and Qs.

Daria: But what about my Xs and Js?

Helen: Daria, what I mean is just show some respect. Preparatory academies and schools have very high standards of living.

Daria: And Tom owns a rust bucket and has a crude sense of humor and reads warfare books just like his girlfriend.

Helen: Well Tom is...

Daria: A prep school attendee and is as pretty normal as Jane. So, if you’re trying to scare me with your big words, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong bedroom. You want the one with the hot, sexy men with the six-packs on the walls, plastered to them.

Helen: Well, alright, Daria. But just don’t do anything you will regret.

Daria sighs.

Daria: I’ll just say that I’m from Siberia, okay? And that my name is Marilyn Monroe. Your reputation among the so-called lawyer community—or whatever it is—won’t be trashed.

Helen: I never asked you to use an alias, sweetie. Just be yourself.

Daria: So then I can talk like a sailor?

Helen: On second thought...just go by Marilyn Monroe.

Daria: That’s too suspicious. I’ll just go by Agent D.

Helen: And I’ll be double-oh seven.

Daria: Mom, don’t compare movies to the Fashion Club’s IQ.

Helen: Hellllew? (her regular, obnoxious ‘hello’)

Pause.

Helen: Tom? Alright—she’s here.

Helen speaks to Daria, covering the receiver with her hand.

Helen: Daria, its Tom.

Daria: Okay.

To phone:

Daria: Hey.

(split screen between them)

Tom: Hey.

Daria: Why did you call? Is everything okay?

Tom: Yeah. I was just wondering if you wanted to get some pizza tonight.

Daria: Um, sure.

Tom: Great. I’ll pick you up right away.

Daria: Damn and I usually take four hours to dress and do my makeup.

Both hang up.

Daria puts on a new pair of socks and walks down the stairs to the door.

Daria: Going out for pizza with Tom. Be back later.

Helen: Be back by midnight.

Daria: I won’t.

Helen: Bye, sweetie. Have a nice time.

Daria: No thank you.

Cut to Daria opening the passenger door and climbing into Tom’s car.

Tom: Hey.

Daria: Hey.

Tom doesn’t start up the car, which gets a quizzical look from Daria.

Daria: Are we going for pizza?

Tom: No.

Tom’s grinning.

Daria: Then are we going for a movie?

Tom: Nope. I have to talk to you.

Daria: About my teeth?

Tom: About this school visit thing...

Daria: It’s cancelled? Bring me news of great joy.

Tom: Actually, just so you fit comfortably in and people don’t stare at you until their eyes fall out, I decided that I’d give you a pep talk about how the people talk and act—just so you can prepare some extra mockeries of them and jokes before you come.

Daria: Alright.

Tom: Everyone brags in the morning about the presents their families gave them. Then at lunch, they bitch amongst one another who has the best chef. And then at the end of the day, they talk and debate about whose parents are richer. But it won’t be like this. We’ll just walk in, introduce you, have lunch, and check out the gigantic library. Then we can flee back to our rooms and shut the doors.

Daria: So basically you want me to criticize them?

Tom: Exactly.

Daria: Okay. Cool. My mom told me to have some pride towards these so-called people.

Tom: Treat them like shit. It’s not a ‘if you don’t bite me, I won’t bite you’ world at Fielding.

Daria: As we all can see. And how are your jaws lately?

Tom: Awww, I just threaten people occasionally but usually I just read.

Daria: My sanity.

Tom: Wash away my sanity...

Daria: Shut up.

Tom: So, pizza?

Daria: Sure.

Drive to Pizza Place.

Daria sits down at a booth while Tom grabs some pizza and drinks for them both.

Tom: You and I both loved...

Daria: ...what you and I both spoke of...

Tom: Pizza.

Daria sips her drink and Tom bites his pizza.

Tom: Wear something nutty. Be crazy. You’ll never see these crazy folk ever again so, what the hell, go a little nuts.

Daria: Well, what about your family’s reputation? I mean, if it got out that angel Tom was dating a crazy chick your parents would be under scowls from everyone.

Tom: Just deal.

Daria: You’re a tough cookie.

Tom: That’s why I’m left in the cookie jar.

Cut to Daria and Tom in his car.

Daria: Thanks for pizza.

Tom: Bye, Daria.

Daria: Bye.

Cut to Daria waking up at 8 AM Saturday morning.

Quinn enters Daria’s room.

Quinn: Daria?

Daria: Yes? Your hair looks bouncy—that idea using springs was great.

Quinn: I’m serious, Daria.

Daria sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

Daria: What?

Quinn: Well, since it’s Saturday...

Daria: ...No, I don’t own spring fashions. And no, I didn’t mix seasons either.

Daria pulls the blankets over her head.

Quinn: I was thinking that you, Daria Morgendorffer, need to come shopping with me. You need the cutesy influence.

Daria: Okay. I’ll just wait outside Cashman’s.

Quinn: Daria, you need a new wardrobe.

Daria: Quinn, you need a new ambition.

Quinn: You’ll just get personal satisfaction that you’re wearing something in that sort of matches your mismatched outfit.

Daria gives Quinn a "no way" look.

Quinn: Alright! And fifty bucks.

Daria: A hundred.

Quinn: Seventy-five.

Daria: Done.

Quinn: But you need to wear it on Monday or a day when you’re out of the house.

Daria: Not Monday.

Quinn: Monday it is.

Daria: Dammit...

Quinn: Why? What are you doing Monday?

Daria: (embarrassed and quiet tone) Uh...visiting Tom’s school...

Quinn: This is perfect.

Daria: Why are you so damn eager to do this in the first place?

Quinn: I just get my inspiration from fashion and its world.

Daria: You were watching the Fashionvision Humanitarian Awards on tape again, weren’t you?

Quinn: Yeah.

Daria: Alright. Buy me something orange with words on the back.

Quinn: Ewwww! No way, Daria!

Daria: What the hell are you going to buy me?

Quinn: An entire outfit.

Daria: Take measurements.

Quinn: I’m not making you a wedding dress, Daria.

Daria: Might as well.

Quinn: The Fashion Club is going to Cashman’s so later on I’ll just buy you a decent shirt and some nice shoes. What piece of that outfit do you want to keep?

Daria: All of it.

Quinn: Hm...Let’s just do a ‘screw the stuff I hate mix-n-match’ sort of thing, okay?

Daria: Fine.

Quinn: Great!

Quinn walks away.

Quinn: (congratulating herself) You have purged the world of another fashion victim!

Daria: Oh God...

Sequence of scenes: Daria and Tom’s call, Quinn betting Daria, Helen talking to Daria, and Daria pulling the blankets over her head.

Resume to Daria walking along her block when Jane and Trent pull up. Trent slows the car and Jane yells out the window.

Jane: Hop in, Daria.

Daria: Um, sorry, but I don’t hitchhike.

Trent: Come on, Daria.

Jane: Yeah. We’re going someplace you will like.

Daria glances at her watch, reading 1:08 PM.

Daria: Well...I guess I can go...

Daria climbs in and Trent continues to drive.

Daria: So where are we going?

Jane: Daria, pass me your glasses.

Daria: Excuse me?

Jane: Just pass the damn glasses.

Daria: (hesitant) Well...alright. (takes them off)

Jane: Great. Trent, now just throw Daria off at the curb!

Daria: Hey!

Jane: Just kidding, Daria. Hold on, we’re here.

Jane: (directing Daria) Now turn left, right, straight a few paces, left, right, and turn the doorknob.

Daria follows Jane’s instructions and heads for a door, turning its knob.

Jane: Okay. (hands Daria her glasses)

Daria: (putting on glasses) Wow...eerie.

Jane: Like it?

Daria: What is it?

Trent: Spiral’s new place. We’ve bought it and we’re making it our practice place.

Daria: And I needed to see this because...?

Jane: Because of this.

Jane flips on a light switch just next to Daria.

Daria: Um...

Trent: We need your expert designing knowledge, Daria.

Daria: Do I get paid?

Trent: Not unless you want to. The band’s gonna help move stuff.

Daria: Um...sure. Put the stage against a wall, the instruments on top of it, and set up chairs as well as the bar, drinks, excreta everywhere.

Trent: Well, we had more important issues that than, Daria.

Jane: Actually, we’re planning a party.

Daria: Excuse me?

Jane: Exactly. It’s for Trent.

Daria: Then why is he here?

Trent: I wanted to make sure that you guys didn’t trash this place up.

Daria: Riiiight.

Jane: We’re just kidding, Morgendorffer. Now, Trent, off to the real place.

Trent: Where’s that?

Jane: Give me those.

Grabs car keys from Trent.

Trent: I’ll guide Daria and we’ll just go.

Daria: This is weird...

Jane: Is Daria Morgendorffer correct? Another human race joiner next on Sick, Sad World.

Trent: We’re not on TV...

Cut to Trent’s car pulling up in front of the Pizza Place.

Jane: Ta-da!

Daria: Um...pizza? Yes, it is a beautiful thing but apart from that...

Trent: It’s on the inside.

Jane: Give me your glasses.

Daria takes off her glasses.

Daria: It’s all dark...

Daria, Trent, and Jane walk in as Jane covers Daria’s eyes.

Daria: Fine. I’m sure whoever is modeling their wedding dress looks fine.

Jane: Wait...

Combination of voices: Happy Birthday!!

Jane hands Daria her glasses.

Daria: What the hell?!

Daria is very shocked.

Jane: How could we forget your eighteenth birthday?

Daria: We’re not getting older...we’re getting better.

Tom approaches Daria with a red rose.

Daria: (looks too shocked) Um...

Tom: Hey, it’s a classic.

Daria: If we go to Chey Pierre, I’m going to kick your ass.

Tom: Don’t worry we aren’t.

Daria: Good.

Jodie approaches with Mack.

Jodie: Happy Birthday, Daria.

Mack: Yeah.

Daria separates from Tom and the crowd to be with Jane.

Daria: Why did you do this?

Jane: I figured that Planet Daria needs the sun to rise.

Daria: But...I mean, my birthday isn’t today.

Jane: Check the calendar.

Daria: Um...it isn’t October 13, is it?

Jane: Yeah, it is.

Daria: And I thought telling nobody about my birthday was useful...

Jane: Except your mother...

Trent approaches with a soda.

Trent: Hey, Janey...

Jane: (turns toward Trent) Yes?

Trent: Where’s Monique?

Jane: You guys broke up, remember?

Trent: Oh yeah.

Jane: (turning back to Daria) He’s been weird ever since he had that ten year old coffee...

Daria: I’m reassured.

Jane: So why didn’t you want to celebrate the big one-eight? The big independent step?

Daria: I just don’t want to feel older.

Jane: You like Lawndale? Oh, this is front page news.

Daria: I mean, I just like things the way they are.

Jane: Meaning...?

Daria: Meaning me dating Tom, you being my best friend, and Quinn being who she is and admitting me as her sister and my parents—well, being sort of crazy and unwell—they way they are. And in less than a year, all of that is gonna change because of a so-called bigger, better place where we are considered little kids and here we’re considered big kids. The place, Jane, is college.

(turns away)

Jane: Well, girls just wanna have fun.

Daria: Damn right!

Jane: Well, be a girl and have fun.

Daria: Sure...

Daria and Jane approach the crowd.

Daria: Um...thanks for coming...

Jane: Damn right.

Daria: The greatest gift of all is love expressed by thy friends. Oh God...what have I just said?

Tom: Hell with it—it’s your birthday. You’re eighteen. You’re independent.

Jane: Yep.

Daria: And do I get presents? That’s the best part of my birthday...

Jane: Well, you get me and him.

Daria: Sorry, but I don’t accept cheap gifts.

Tom: Well, I got you some software.

Jane: And I got you some books that I think you haven’t read...

Daria: Um...thanks.

Jane: They’re at your house.

Daria: When will this be over?

Jane: Two.

Daria: Why just an hour?

Jane: Trent I spent time looking for you and Tom called and said that they needed more time so the warehouse thing was just a so-called hoax and stupid mistake.

Daria: Oh.

Jane: Well, just get some pizza.

Tom: Yeah, and have some fun while you’re here.

Daria: Officer, you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t have fun.

Tom: Fine have fun in your language.

Daria: Okay. Come, Lane.

Jane: Alright.

Cut to Daria at the Zon with Tom and Jane.

Trent: Hey. We’re Mystik Spiral. We’d like to wish my kid sister’s friend, Daria, a happy birthday.

Daria: Hopefully he doesn’t say I came into his life like a twister.

Jane: Don’t worry. He doesn’t dance while singing happy birthday.

Tom: I’m not worried unless he’s wearing spandex.

Daria: I’ve gotta get home.

Jane: You’re making your evil escape already?

Tom: The fun’s just started.

Daria: We can leave during the second set and get some food.

Jane: Um, you guys can just go ahead. I’ll stay.

Tom: Alright.

Cut to Tom’s car.

Daria: What was with Jane?

Tom: Huh?

Daria: I mean back there. She said that sort of shoo-shoo and quickly.

Tom: I don’t know.

Daria: Okay.

Tom slows in front of the Morgendorffer house.

Tom: We’ve landed in hell. I’ll see you later. Happy Birthday.

Daria: See you later.

Daria smiles as she gets out of the car.

Cut to the next day: Sunday. Daria’s clock glows 8 AM. Daria stirs.

Daria: Huh?

Cut to breakfast table as a dressed Daria walks in the kitchen and pops toast in the toaster.

Quinn: You’ve seen my written message, correct, Daria?

Daria: Depends on what you determine written. No, I haven’t read your mindless book on how to keep your toes looking skinny or how to make your eyelids look perfect.

Quinn: About the clothes.

Daria: Oh. That damn thing.

Quinn: So, are you ready?

Daria: If you mean ready to run, then yes, I am ready.

Quinn: Seventy-five bucks, Daria...

Daria: Damn you’re good. You’ve been hanging around Mom too much.

Quinn: Followeth thy.

Stops dead in her tracks.

Quinn: Oh my God...did I just speak Old English?!

Daria: Something like that. Show me the money.

Quinn: Not quite yet. You’ve got to wear them first.

Daria: Let’s see what’s behind door number three.

Quinn throws some clothes out a Cashman’s shopping bag. Daria looks shocked.

Daria: Daria Morgendorffer...what have you gotten yourself into?

Resuming to Daria inside the bathroom with the door closed and Quinn admiring herself a mirror.

Quinn: Daria, come on out. I want to see the after.

Daria: Along with the Fashion Fiends and the press of the Lawndale Sun Herald.

Quinn: Nope, just me and my mirror.

Daria: Not likely.

Quinn: Well how long does it take to change into an outfit?

Daria: Can you rig a toothbrush to kill yourself?

Quinn: It’s not like Tom or Jane or whatever are here.

Daria: You’re right. My pride just left me.

Quinn: Just come on out, Daria.

Daria: Fine.

Daria sighs.

Quinn: It’s not that bad, Daria.

Daria: There goes my ego too. They’re in a getaway car and they’re headed for hell.

Quinn: You gotta wear that if you want seventy-five.

Daria: Hundred.

Quinn: We already settled on seventy-five.

Daria: Hundred. I’m a broken record. Hundred. Hundred. Hundred. Hundred. Hundred.

Quinn: (cutting Daria off from her "hundred" frenzy) Alright!!

Daria: Good. At least I’ll make a buck off of this.

Quinn: You’re wearing them tomorrow, no questions about it. You look great.

Daria: You mean ‘great’ as in greatly humiliated? Yes, I’d agree.

Quinn: It looks cute.

Daria: Then I won’t wear it tomorrow.

Quinn: Fine. It looks ugly on you.

Daria: I’ll consider wearing this shirt. But for now, Quinn, you won’t—um—mention this to anybody?

Quinn: I guess not.

Daria: Good. I’m gonna warn Tom that I hit my head on the wall—hard.

Quinn: No way! I’m not letting you spoil the surprise. You friend, Jane, also has to see the transformation that I, Quinn Morgendorffer, has made.

Daria: How about we all burn in hell instead?

Quinn: Daria, fashion is my major field of study and you’re still being you with or without the shorter skirt, jacket, and orange T-shirt. You still think the same and act the same. Trust me, after David, I know this sort of thing.

Daria: I guess... Oh god...

Quinn: What? I’ve joined the normality race of humans?

Daria: That’s exactly what sort of crap Mom shoves at me when I feel bad about my so-called image.

Quinn: Then you’ve gotta stop doubting about yourself.

Daria: God, you’re weird.

(looks away)

Quinn: Hey! (shocked at her new discovery) If you care about your clothes then you have joined me in the fashion crusade, Daria. Oh God...this is so...so heartwarming.

Daria: I was thinking heartbreaking but okay...

Quinn: Screw it! Call Tom. Call Jane! Call the whole student body of Lawndale High for all I care! Daria Morgendorffer has arisen out of her oyster...

Daria: Well, enthusiasm always did not want to make me do what I was told.

Quinn: Screw it, Daria, just screw it. You can put on your old clothes but I’m making sure you do not take them with to your visit to Tom’s school.

(gives Daria a grin, Daria grins back)

Daria: Damn you! (looks in mirror at her reflection) Damn you to hell! You just bonded with Quinn—your distant cousin, or so you’re told!

Daria walks off into her room, throwing her new Quinn clothes into a corner.

Helen: (noticing Daria’s new look) Good morning, Daria?

Daria: Hellish morning. Can’t stop to talk.

Daria grabs a Pop Tart from a box labeled "Tart Pop" and eats on her way out the door.

Daria rings the doorbell, sighs, and Tom opens the door.

Tom: (eyes WIDE) Daria?!

Tom: So you’re doing this for money?

Daria: Exactly.

Tom: How? Your mother?

Daria: Quinn.

Tom: Wow. You are desperate.

Daria: (eyes get angry) Hey!

Tom: What did I say? Ah, hell. Tell Jane—she’ll freak out. At least you haven’t lost those great colors I like.

Daria: Oh shut up.

Tom: What?

Daria: Can we just get this over with?

Tom: Sure. We’re just visiting classrooms and conversing with my fellow imps. Let’s go.

Daria: Casual attire?

Tom: Hey, I dress however I want. They’re idiot space aliens, swear.

Daria sighs.

Tom: What’s wrong?

Daria: It’s not my style.

Tom: I don’t belong, you don’t belong, so we belong.

Daria: Is that a lame pickup line or a desperate attempt at a pep talk?

Tom: I choose C.

Daria: What would C be?

Tom: All of the above.

Daria: Dammit, Tom, let’s just get this over with.

Tom: Now you’re talking!

Daria: Headed for another boy’s teen hell.

Tom: The guys will think you’re rude...that’s cool.

Daria: I’m getting bucks off Quinn for wearing these stupid clothes.

Tom: Ah, excellent reason for wearing them. Has Jane seen the after?

Daria: No and no way.

Tom: She’ll be surprised that you’d do this for nothing but money is a fine way to bribe.

Daria: Are we there yet?

Tom: Yeah—we’re in hell. Welcome to Fielding Prep School...where we like to make your life a living nightmare and horrible.

Daria: And I thought Lawndale copyrighted its slogan...

Tom: I’ll introduce you to the friends—or what I’d like to call friends—I have here.

Tom and Daria walk up to this kid with black hair that is sort of tousled but tidy and he’s wearing a black sweater and dark, navy blue pants.

Tom: Alex, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Daria.

Alex: Hi.

Daria blinks.

Daria: Hi?

Alex: Gotta go see Alice. Bye.

Tom smiles and waves until Alex is gone.

Tom: That’s Alex Smith—my dad’s best friends with Alex’s dad. It’s sort of like an arranged friendship.

Daria: So you’re not married off?

Tom: I’ll introduce you to my teachers.

Daria: Um...cheese?

Tom: Daria, This is Mr. McClean, my science teacher.

Daria: Are you from mice and men?

Tom: Um, yeah.

McClean: Do you know about matter, Dar?

Daria: It’s Daria. And yeah, I know about matter.

McClean: What makes up an atom?

Daria: Protons, electrons, and neutrons.

McClean: Tell me more.

Daria: Your tie has cheese on it.

McClean: I mean about matter.

Daria: Matter? Well, your tie is made up of matter.

McClean makes a scowl and stomps to his classroom.

Tom: Touché!

Daria: This is fun.

Tom: Of course.

Cut Daria and Tom in the Fielding cafeteria.

Daria: Good food...preppy school...

Tom: The food’s good...or that’s what they want you to think.

Daria: Yeah...

Tom: Thanks for coming, Daria.

Daria: It’s as close to fun as I get. Other than that, seeing Quinn in a humiliating situation is also pretty fun, also.

Tom smiles as they both continue to eat their pizzas and sodas.

Cut to Daria and Tom walking into the Fielding library.

Daria: Damn, this is huge.

Tom: Told you I like this library and the food.

Daria: Yeah.

Tom: Let’s get some books on my name.

Daria: H.G. Wells always did have that power hungriness I liked in books...

Daria grabs a combination issue of H.G. Wells’s two stories: The Invisible Man and The Time Machine.

Tom: Told you this place was great—I mean just the library and food.

Girl from behind Daria and Tom with a squeaky voice: Oh my gosh, Tom!!!

Tom: (backing away) Violet, get the hell away from me.

Violet: But you haven’t taken me on a date, you hottie!

Daria: (stepping between Violet’s arms and Tom) Um, I hate to interrupt this mental therapy session, but who the hell are you?

Violet: Violet Nipper.

Tom: Violet, I really don’t want you to meet her but this is my girlfriend, Daria.

Violet: Violet Nipper.

Daria: Nightmare from hell.

They shake hands.

Violet: (defensively) Tom’s my boyfriend.

Daria: (getting angry) No. He’s...um...my boyfriend.

Tom: (quickly) Yeah.

Tom: Now when I say, ‘Violet sucks’ run as fast as you can to the east exit where we came in. Had enough?

Daria: Hell yeah!

Tom: Violet sucks!!

Violet: Fine! I’ll get in your heart someday, you bastard!

Daria...and then she called Tom a bastard.

Tom: Well, even I call myself that when myself gets mad at me.

Jane: But I’m absolutely amazed you braved wearing those clothes.

Daria: Quinn said it matters what’s on the inside. She read too many guardian angel books, swear it.

Jane: Hell, Daria, it was still funny.

Tom: It was pretty funny when you made fun of McClean’s tie. Nobody dares to do that.

Daria: What can I say? I’m one of a kind.

Jane: That’s right, freakin’ friend.

Tom: Huh?

Daria: Long story.

Tom: Alright.

Daria: But nobody mention this to Quinn...I’m selling the clothes back to the store. I stole the receipt.

Jane: So you’re getting more than your hundred.

Daria: I concealed the tags.

Tom: Daria, the crafty one.

Jane: You’re a twisted little crawler, and like I’ve said before, I’m proud to be your friend.

Tom: And...I’m proud to be dating you?

Daria: Something like that.

Jane and Tom together: Happy Belated Birthday.

Jane: Congrats, freakin’ friend.

Tom: Yeah. Except you’re my freakin’ girlfriend.

Daria smiles.

Closing credits—song is Stacy’s Mom by Fountains of Wayne.