DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan-fiction, created solely for the pleasure of the author and any who might find it of some entertainment. "Daria" is the property of Viacom, which owns MTV. This story may be freely replicated and distributed under the conditions that the author is notified and no changes are made. Any attempt to alter or profit from this work is strictly illegal, and the author waives all accountability. AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, here it is. My first piece of "Daria" fan-fiction. I hope it provides a few laughs. A few quick notes: this script does nothing to alter/change the Daria/Trent relationship as established on the show. Hopefully, it sheds a little light on it. Several points I was aiming for, however, made it into season three episodes -- most notably "Lane Miserables". But I poured a lot of time and effort into this script, and the jokes and circumstances (Jake giving Trent dating advice, for example) were (in my mind anyway) too good to let die. I guess you could place this story a few months before "Lane Miserables", possibly in the gap between seasons two and three. So there you have it. Hope you like it. Hope it's legible. Please feel free to contact me about this story at "*DELETED*". As someone aiming to be a future professional writer, I strongly desire feedback of any kind to help me in future endeavors. And now, without further ado ... DARIA in "LOVE AT FIRST SLIGHT" by Admonisher ACT 1. INT. LANE RESIDENCE -- JANE’S ROOM A camera flashes as Jane takes pictures. She smiles wickedly, and the object of her mirth is revealed: it is Daria, a frilly dress draped uncomfortably over her; a strangely decorated canvas as the backdrop on Jane's bedroom wall. DARIA: Remind me one more time why I agreed to do this. JANE: (taking pictures as she speaks) I believe it was to avoid crushing my fragile artist's ego and expressive insecurity ... and because you're the one who knocked over Rusty the Mannequin, shattering his brittle hollow body into a million pieces. DARIA: He looked so sad standing in one place all the time. I thought he could hold my drink. JANE: Besides, this is a great way to work with my new camera. I'm experimenting. I want to capture the nakedest emotions of the self. DARIA: I think I'd rather be naked than wearing this. JANE: (softly) All in good time. DARIA: Ha ha. You know, I'll bet Quinn would love doing this. JANE: Yes, but she couldn't quite capture the same emotionless pallor of Rusty the Mannequin the way you do. DARIA: Thanks. So what am I supposed to be here? Depression? Disgust? JANE: (gesturing expansively) Humiliation. DARIA: I see. As if standing here now isn't bad enough, I'll have the excruciatingly embarrassing image perfectly preserved for all eternity. JANE: Precisely. Trent opens the door and begins to speak before he realizes what Daria is wearing. Daria freezes, hoping that perhaps she will not be recognized. TRENT: Hey, Janey, how's it goin'? DARIA: (voice over) If I remain perfectly still, he won't notice me. I am Rusty the Mannequin ... I am Rusty the Mannequin. TRENT: Hey, Daria. DARIA: (voice over) Damn! (aloud; resigned) Hey. TRENT: I was wondering if there've been any calls for me. But I guess you're busy. (he moves to exit) JANE: No, wait, Trent ... come on in. I need someone to pose in a toga. TRENT: That's okay. JANE: I'll pay three dollars a shot. DARIA: (indignant) Hey! TRENT: (stepping inside) Ummm ... maybe later. DARIA: Maybe he can wear this dress. TRENT: That's just wrong. DARIA: I agree. (to Jane) Are we finished? I think you've captured enough humiliation to last you a decade or so. JANE: (smiling vengefully) Maybe a bit more. Smile, Trent. Trent smiles obligingly and swings an arm around Daria's shoulder. Before Daria can react, Jane lifts her camera and snaps a photo of them together. Blushing furiously, Daria scowls at Jane, then at Trent. TRENT: (quickly) I'd better go now. Let me know if someone calls. JANE: Someone or Anyone? TRENT: Yeah. (exits) Jane looks at Daria, who shrugs. JANE: Ooo! Hold that pose! (she snaps off one more shot) And that's a wrap. DARIA: There is one more thing ... (holds out palm) JANE: Oh very well. I've always wanted to be a starving artist. Jane delves into her pocket and produces some cash which she gives to Daria. DARIA: It's a start. In the meantime, let's go buy back some of my dignity at Pizza Place. My treat. EXT. LANE RESIDENCE -- DAY Daria and Jane walk down the stairs and out the front door. Daria has changed back into her normal clothes. Daria's eyes widen. Trent is getting into a red convertible driven by an attractive woman his age (use your imagination!) She looks over and frowns at Daria, putting her arm around Trent. JANE: Trent! Where are you going? TRENT: Oh, you know. Noplace. JANE: When will you be ... The woman behind the wheel smirks at the girls and speeds off before Jane can finish her question. DARIA: Who was that? JANE: I don't know, but it can't be healthy. DARIA: I kind of assumed that. JANE: Did you hear him? He's going ... "noplace." That's bad. To the club, sure. To a practice or a gig, I'd understand. Well ... I’d understand practice. But "noplace" ... looks like Trent's actually got a date. DARIA: Mmm-hmm. JANE: You okay? DARIA: (defensive) Of course. There is a long, awkward silence. DARIA: Actually, I should probably go home. We're having lasagna tonight. JANE: Of course. INT. MORGENDORFFER RESIDENCE -- KITCHEN Daria, Quinn, Helen and Jake sit around supper. HELEN: You know, I was just thinking about my image at the workplace. I think I'm coming across too soft and complacent. We've got this gigantic business meeting tomorrow -- killer deal -- and I'm trying to think up ways to be more intimidating, because you just know how difficult it is for a working woman to be taken seriously these days. Am I intimidating, Jake? JAKE: Well ... HELEN: AM I??? JAKE: Absolutely! HELEN: Hmmm ... It's not like I'm unconfident or anything -- as If I'd have a reason to be unconfident, a woman with my ... attributes. I’m just not convinced I'm operating at my full "intimidation potential." What do you think, Daria? Daria is silent for a moment. Then she speaks without a trace of her usual sarcasm. DARIA: Actually, I don't really have an opinion. I'd like to be excused if you don't mind. Homework and all. Quinn narrows her eyes. She suspects something. JAKE: But Daria, you've barely touched my Lasagna a la Beets! HELEN: (misreading; to the rescue) Of course you may be excused, dear. (aside) Let me know if you want a peanut-butter sandwich or anything later on, okay? JAKE: Hey! Daria rises and exits. INT. MORGENDORFFER RESIDENCE -- DARIA’S ROOM Daria is lying on her bed in her room. Watching TV. "Sick, Sad World", of course. ANNOUNCER: When mail-order husbands meet mail-order brides! Next, on "Sick, Sad World"! Daria turns the television off. Quinn appears in the doorway. QUINN: Okay, Daria, what's going on. DARIA: What are you talking about? QUINN: Something's obviously going on. Mom left herself wide open down there. You should have come back with some sarcastic remark like, "Gee Mom, maybe dressing in men's clothing would make you more intimidating." HELEN: (as she walks by outside the door) Why Quinn, that's an excellent idea! A little hypocritical, maybe, but worth trying once. QUINN: (gapes and then turns to Daria) NOW look what you've done. DARIA: Me? All I've done is sit here. QUINN: Exactly. I've seen this type of behavior before, but not from you. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were sulking over some boy. DARIA: (rolling her eyes) Oh yeah. That's me all over. QUINN: Yeah, I know. I don't believe it. It's not like you'll ever need to worry about men. (narrowing eyes) Funny though, because every feminine instinct I have is pointing me in that direction. (stopping suddenly; looking up) Oh wait ... now it's pointing me towards the bathroom. Gotta go. (exits) ACT 2. EXT. MORGENDORRFER RESIDENCE -- DAWN INT. MORGENDORRFER RESIDENCE -- KITCHEN It is morning at the Morgendorffers. A groggy Daria is sitting in front of a plate of toast at the counter. Helen walks in. She's wearing a pair of gray slacks, a button-down shirt and a tie. HELEN: Good morning, Daria. How do I look? DARIA: Does Dad know you're wearing his pants? HELEN: Why of course! (under her breath) I mean it's not like it's the first time. JAKE: (from upstairs) Helen, have you seen my gray slacks? HELEN: (to Daria) Bye now. Have a good day at school. (exits) INT. LAWNDALE HIGH Daria and Jane are walking through the halls of Lawndale High. DARIA: So when did Trent get back last night. JANE: He didn't. DARIA: Oh. JANE: Tell me about it. I caught him pulling in this morning. Her name is "Doxie." DARIA: Doxie ... Dox-ie ... Isn't that Norwegian for "bitch"? JANE: (reflects for a moment) Probably. She's one of those "90's attitude" women. Always throwing around her "independence," but whining when she doesn't have a big strong man to dangle across her arm like a hand-bag. They stop at Daria's locker. The Fashion Club is meeting nearby, and Quinn is easily overheard. QUINN: So my theory is that men are like hand-bags. I mean, they're perfectly content to be hanging on the arm of any woman. And this is perfectly suited to our needs because it lets us accessorize, picking the proper male for any occasion-slash-event-slash-outfit. TIFFANY: Wow, Quinn, that is, like, so deep. SANDI: Yes, except for the fact that it has, like, a gaping logical flaw. Or maybe not. Are you suggesting that a boy would be just as happy going out with you as, say, your cousin, or whatever, over there for example? QUINN: Oh puh-leeze! I'm talking about attractive people! The bell rings, and Daria has heard enough. DARIA: (to Jane) I think I have someplace more intelligent to be. BRITTANY: (passing by) Hey, Daria! Time for ge-om-etry! JANE: Well, at least you have someplace else to be. INT. LAWNDALE HIGH -- GEOMETRY CLASS Daria is sitting next to Brittany in math class. Brittany is staring in confusion at her paper. BRITTANY: I wonder why they call it a right angle. I mean, why do all the other angles have to be wrong? It doesn't seem fair. DARIA: Maybe you should right a letter of complaint to Euclid, the father of Geometry. BRITTANY: (indignantly) Ha ha, Daria. I'm not stupid! I know very well he has people who handle all his mail. Daria sighs. Kevin leans up from the seat behind them, addressing Brittany. KEVIN: Psst! Babe! What's the sine of thirty degrees? BRITTANY: Capricorn, I think. I'm not really into that astrology stuff. KEVIN: Thanks, Babe! Daria considers Brittany for a moment. DARIA: So tell me, Brittany ... how do you do it. BRITTANY: Do what? DARIA: Keep Kevin wrapped around your little finger all the time. BRITTANY: (twirling her hair) Oh that! I don't know. Pheromones, I guess. We learned all about pheromones in biology. Our substitute teacher Mr. Dillard says I've got some BIG pheromones. DARIA: I'm sure that's it. BRITTANY: Seriously though, if Kevin ever so much as looked at another girl, I'd have to kill him. And after that I'd never speak with him again. As Brittany speaks, another attractive girl walks by Kevin, eyeing him and smiling. KEVIN: (to the girl) Hey, Babe! BRITTANY: (assuming Kevin is speaking to her; turning around) Hi Kevvy! KEVIN: (obliviously responding) Hey, Babe! Daria rolls her eyes. A bell rings. INT. LAWNDALE HIGH Daria is walking down the hall talking with Jane. JANE: ... so then Mrs. Barch comes rampaging into history class. Turns out Mr. DeMartino, in the interest of equality, had all the male members of the class write papers on a female historical figures they admired; and all the female members of the class write about a male historical figure they admired ... DARIA: ... and Mrs. B naturally objected on the grounds that there are no male historical figures worth admiring. Such as Jesus. Or Ghandi. JANE: Exactly! Daria stumbles on something and drops her books. She bends down to pick them up, and Upchuck, walking down the hall, stops to help. UPCHUCK: Allow me, sweet Daria. This is no work for a lady. DARIA: (snatching her books) You must have me confused with someone else. UPCHUCK: Pardon my French, but Au contraire. Daria frowns initially, but then smiles wickedly. DARIA: (innocently) And what is it about me you find so alluring, Upchuck? Is it my deep amber locks or my luscious lips? UPCHUCK: (taken aback, but hastily recovering) Aha-ha. Why ... all your many feminine attributes of course, my dear. DARIA: I see. A lesser person might take that as meaning you'd settle for any girl that blinked in your general direction. A lesser person might be insulted. But I know your tastes are much more discriminating than that. UPCHUCK: (nervous now) Ah ... of course. (sidling away) Now if you ladies will excuse me, I think I hear someone calling my name. One of my many constituents, I'm sure. JANE: (joining in) Awww ... please don't go, Upchuck! We were hoping you could walk us to class, and then maybe join us for pizza after school. Upchuck frets nervously for a moment, then darts away in haste. JANE: Well, that was fun. (suspiciously) Any ulterior motives? DARIA: None whatsoever. JANE: Good. I'd hate to think we were feeling insecure about ourselves. DARIA: I'm only insecure that next time he might take you up on your Pizza offer. JANE: Good point. Next time I'll just slap him upside the head. That'll show him who's boss. INT. POWER LAW FIRM -- HELEN’S OFFICE Helen sits at her desk in full "intimidation gear". Eric enters with some papers. ERIC: Helen, I was wondering if you'd look over these documents before the-- HELEN: Yes, yes, I'll take them. Bring them here. Helen stands up, puts her hands on her hips and gives the most menacing smile she can muster. Eric gives a violent start and drops the papers. ERIC: Oh my God! HELEN: (pleased) I am rather intimidating, aren't I. ERIC: (urgently) I ... yes! (he begins picking up the papers) I've never found you so compelling in my life! HELEN: Wonderful! Now be a dear and fetch me some coffee. ERIC: (eager ... compelled ... almost, dare we say, intimidated?) Yes! Of course! (exits) Helen gives a sigh of pleasure and settles back into her chair, immensely self-satisfied. EXT. MORGENDORRFER RESIDENCE -- SIDEWALK We see Daria approaching the door to her house. INT. MORGENDORRFER RESIDENCE -- KITCHEN Daria enters to find her dad sitting at the table twiddling his thumbs. JAKE: Hey, kiddo! DARIA: Dad. You're home early today. JAKE: Yeah, I got out on good behavior! Ha ha! (Daria gives him a look) Alright! So my last-- NEXT to last client cancelled today. It's healthy for businesses to have these kinds of lulls! Keeps life from getting too busy! Hey! I've got some spare time! Up for an intense game of "Stratego" with your old man? (he holds the game box up and rattles it) DARIA: (thinking fast) Actually, I was just on my way to Jane's house. I just stopped here to ... drop of my bag. JAKE: Whatever you say, kiddo! Daria drops her bag, and turns around to open the door. Trent is standing there poised to knock. TRENT: Oh, Daria ... it's you. (Trent steps in) I was wondering if you had a moment. DARIA: Sure. TRENT: I need some advice. I was wondering -- JAKE: (from the kitchen) Hey Trent! My man! TRENT: I was wondering ... if you were a girl ... (he pauses; Daria raises an eyebrow) let me start again. If you were a girl who cared how you looked (Daria scowls) and you asked me how you looked, what could I say that wouldn't upset you? DARIA: Are we talking about this new "friend" of yours? TRENT: Uhh ... DARIA: Did you say something stupid last night? TRENT: It's within the realm of possibility. DARIA: Well for starters, I'd pick the right person to ask for dating advice. TRENT: Huh? DARIA: Try my Dad. He's full of great ideas. With that, Daria slips out the door, leaving Trent alone with a grinning Jake Morgendorffer. ACT 3. EXT. MORGENDORFFER RESIDENCE On the sidewalk, Daria passes Quinn, who can barely walk beneath the enormous clothes parcel she is carrying, along with a bulging makeup bag. DARIA: (eyeing the misshapen bag of clothes) I hope you don't intend to bury the body in our yard. QUINN: (huffing) Very ... funny ... Daria! These are ... accessories ... I happen to have a ... date tonight. You might want to ... try it sometime. INT. MORGENDORFFER RESIDENCE -- KITCHEN Inside, Jake and Trent are standing by the table, while Quinn walks in and stumbles up the stairs. JAKE: So, Trent! You want to know how to talk to women. TRENT: Umm ... JAKE: Don't be ashamed, son! I'm the master of communication between the genders! Do you know how long I've managed to sustain my marriage having said "I love you" only three times? (he stops and looks at his fingers) Oh damn! That makes four! We hear the door open. HELEN: (offscreen, from the door) Hello? Jake! I'm home! JAKE: (to Trent) There's the wife. (winks to Trent) Watch the master in action. Jake rises and turns towards his wife, who is still wearing his gray slacks, shirt and tie. Jake is obviously very surprised, and begins stuttering ... but he can't fail now. Not after his boasting to Trent. JAKE: Helen ... you've ... your ... HELEN: Oh, you like the outfit? JAKE: Oh ... I ... outfit ... YES .... my pants! ... do ... HELEN: It was Quinn's idea! It worked splendidly! I felt so intimidating! You should have seen them squirm! JAKE: Quinn ... intimidating ... splendid! HELEN: Thanks so much dear! I'll be upstairs reorganizing our wardrobe. Jake swallows nervously. Helen walks up the stairs. TRENT: (unreadable) I'm speechless. JAKE: That's the way it works, kiddo! The best thing to do when faced with a situation like that is to say absolutely nothing. (conspiratorially) That way they can't blame you for anything! Quinn enters wearing one of her new outfits. QUINN: Oh, Trent. You're male. I've got, like, a really important date tonight. If I'm not wearing just the right outfit, my carefully planned schedule for the entire month will completely fall apart. Does this outfit make my hips look big? Following his new advice, Trent stares at Quinn silently. Quinn begins to look worried. Trent remains staring; silent and expressionless. Quinn's eyebrows turn up in despair. QUINN: (wailing) Oh, they do! I knew it! My life is ruined! Quinn flees up the stairs. JAKE: (calling after Quinn) Don't stay up too late tonight, kiddo! EXT. LANE RESIDENCE -- FRONT LAWN Daria is sitting alone on the front step of the Lane house. Jane peers down from an upstairs window. JANE: Hey! We don't want any vagrants loitering on this property. (there is no reaction) Hey Daria, how long you been down there? DARIA: Only an hour. I couldn't stay at home and I didn't feel much like talking. I thought I'd just sit here and contemplate the smashed remains of Rusty the Mannequin. (she eyes some plastic bits on the ground next to her) Now that you've found me out I suppose I'll come inside. JANE: No ... I've been using aerosols up here. I could use some fresh air. A few moments pass and Jane opens the front door and joins Daria on the front steps. DARIA: Trent just came over to my house asking for dating advice. JANE: What'd you tell him? DARIA: I passed him on to my Dad. JANE: You didn't! Well there's a surefire way to wreck his blossoming romance. (Daria looks away; Jane looks abashed) Sorry. DARIA: (snappy) For what? Why should I care about Trent's social life? JANE: Maybe you should tell me. DARIA: What's that supposed to mean? JANE: (frustrated) I ... nothing ... it's just ... never mind. There is a long silence. DARIA: Look, I'm not ... I mean it's not like ... alright, I'll admit it. I'm slightly confused. JANE: Oh? DARIA: I mean, most people are simple. Easy for me to figure out. I can predict exactly what they'll do and how they'll react. There aren't many challenges. And when I think I have someone figured out, it's a bit disconcerting to find out I was wrong. I just wouldn't have penned Trent as someone who would go for a case like Doxie, that's all. There's nothing more to it. I miscalculated and it upsets me. JANE: Maybe Trent's confused. I mean, he's male after all. DARIA: (a slip of the tongue) So I've noticed. (Jane smirks; Daria frowns at her) What to say at a moment like this? (she deliberates for a moment, then finds it:) I'm going to kill you. A red convertible pulls up, driven by Doxie. She gets out and approaches the girls. JANE: Speak of the devil ... Doxie has short, dark hair and is dressed to kill. She speaks with a haughty, superior attitude, and a very condescending voice. It's rather obvious that Trent has fallen for the wrong woman here. Daria's face betrays no emotion, but Jane is frowning. DOXIE: Where's Trent? DARIA: He's not here. DOXIE: Hmph. (to Daria) I know you. You're Trent's little friend. "Darla" or something. Jane scowls angrily. Daria remains neutral. DARIA: That's me. "Trent's little friend." I define my existence with that very statement. DOXIE: I certainly hope so. Look, Darella, or whatever, when Trent gets home, he'd better call me. JANE: (bitterly) Yes, ma'am! Doxie snorts and stalks back to her car, driving off. JANE: (attempting to lighten the situation) Exactly what I've been looking for in a sister-in-law. Seeing the crestfallen reaction of Daria to this sarcasm, Jane becomes embarrassed and stands up uncomfortably. JANE: Look, I've got some errands to run. You can stay here if you want. DARIA: No. I should go home. I'm probably missing dinner. Not that I'm hungry, exactly. Well ... bye. JANE: Bye. The sun is setting. Daria and Jane walk in opposite directions down the sidewalk. A short way down, Daria passes Trent. TRENT: Hey, Daria. DARIA: Hey, Trent. They continue walking without further conversation. INT. LANE RESIDENCE -- KITCHEN Jane enters the kitchen and takes off her coat. Trent is there, having just gotten a glass of water. JANE: Honey, I'm home. TRENT: Hey, Janey. JANE: Your friend Doxie stopped by today. TRENT: Oh. Thanks. JANE: Amid vague threats, she hinted that she'd like you to drop her a line. TRENT: Yeah. She's kind of impatient that way. JANE: Then why call her at all? What do you get out of it anyway? TRENT: (shrugs) She likes my music. And she wants to talk to me. Trent exits the room, and Jane ponders silently. EXT. MORGENDORFFER RESIDENCE -- DAWN We see the rising sun over the Morgendorffer house. INT. MORGENDORFFER RESIDENCE -- DARIA’S ROOM We see Daria in bed. Her eyes open. DARIA POV: We see a bleary image coalesce into Jane. JANE: Good morning, sunshine! Daria sits up, brushes away wisps of morning-hair and puts on her glasses. She checks her watch. DARIA: It's 11:30AM on a Saturday morning. What are you doing here? More importantly, what are you doing up? JANE: I need your help. It's my turn on the crucifix of my art, and I need you to take the pictures. DARIA: Our theme for the day? JANE: (expressively) "Consternation." DARIA: Give me a moment to collect my thoughts ... (brief pause) Okay. Done. Quinn appears in the doorway. QUINN: Hey, Daria, that friend you have is here ... (she notices Jane, and the disheveled Daria) Oh. Whoa, Daria! Morning-hair! My sensitive follicles could never put up with that kind of abuse! DARIA: That's why you soak them in chemical broth and blast them with 600 degree air? QUINN: That's why I sleep with a bag over my head. JANE: Is that legal? DARIA: (a small smile) I've been advocating it for years. QUINN: (quickly flustered) Oooooh! It goes over my hair! (she stalks away.) DARIA: Well that brightened my week considerably. JANE: You know, she'll be on the war path all day now. DARIA: You're right. Let's get out of here. INT. LANE RESIDENCE -- KITCHEN Daria and Jane arrive at the Lane house. Trent is standing in the kitchen with a drink. JANE: Trent, you're up. What a surprise. You know Daria and I were just listening to some of Mystic Spiral's old records. Daria had some thoughts on your guitar solo from "Behind My Eyelids." TRENT: Really? Daria's eyes widen in surprise. She looks at Jane. Jane makes a few head motions towards Trent. Daria turns back towards Trent. DARIA: Um ... yeah. That ... thing you did was really interesting. With the guitar and all. TRENT: Thanks. The room is silent for a second, and Daria's face reddens. DARIA: (to Trent) Would you excuse us for a moment? (under her breath to Jane) The living room. Now. Daria seizes Jane by the arm and drags her into the living room. DARIA: Okay, what the hell was that all about? JANE: What? DARIA: Don't be stupid. "Oh, Trent, Daria was just talking about how great you are." JANE: (protesting) It was an experiment! DARIA: I don't like being experimented on! Especially by my best friend. JANE: (sighing) Look, you said Trent had you confused. DARIA: No, I said Trent was confusing. There's a difference. JANE: Whatever. It turns out Trent's only going out with Doxie because she actually talks to him and pays attention to his music. I figured you'd appreciate that fact better if you found out for yourself. Daria is silent for a moment. She's less angry, but she isn't sure what to say. She considers. DARIA: Alright. I'll accept the fact that you were trying to prove a point. That point being that I shouldn't expect to anticipate someone's actions if I can't even talk to them. Conceded. JANE: So am I forgiven? DARIA: In the name of science, yes. Never do it again or I'll dye your hair orange when you least expect it. JANE: Agreed. Now have you learned your lesson? DARIA: You mean the one about me never knowing the right thing to say? JANE: I never said ... Jane is being interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone. The girls turn towards the kitchen and listen as Trent answers it. TRENT: Hello ... oh hi, Doxie. I-- Trent is cut off by an angry squawking across the line, and then a sudden click and dial tone. Trent hangs up the phone, expressionless. He looks over his shoulder to see Jane and Daria watching from the entryway. TRENT: That was Doxie. She won't be seeing me anymore. JANE: (surprised ... or is she?) Really? TRENT: She was at the club last night. She saw some picture of me with another girl. It was dated this week. Probably some band member. DARIA: And she just assumed you were on the rebound? Tough. TRENT: Yeah. I guess she wasn't my type after all. I tell you, the world is a cruel, shallow place. DARIA: (optimistically) But it makes for good song lyrics. JANE: Look on the bright side. Now you've got more time to sleep. DARIA: Besides, she only took your heart. You've still got your guitar. TRENT: (smiles) Yeah. Yeah. I guess I'm pretty lucky. Hey, thanks, Daria. You always know the right thing to say. DARIA: (a small smile) Don't mention it. I do what I can. JANE: (a sly grin) Ditto. Jane's is a sly, satisfied smile, and we see that she is holding something behind her back. It is in fact the picture of Daria and Trent taken two days ago. Hmmmm ... THE END That, as they say, is that. Did you like it? Hate it? I can be contacted at "*DELETED*". There're more fan-fics on the way, so any constructive criticism will (with any luck) make my future endeavors better and more enjoyable. Thanks.