The Hitch Hiker's Guide To Sarcasm

Part 1

By Tafka [1]

This is a crossover series (HHG2G x Daria), with Daria Morgendorffer in the role of Arthur Dent, Jane Lane in the role of Ford Prefect, Trent Lane in the role of Zaphod Beeblebrox, Monique in the role of Tricia (Trillian) McMillan and instead of Marvin the paranoid android – Kuh-Win, the vogue-droid (who somehow manages to be more annoying than Marvin).


In the outer reaches of the universe, in an archaic region of the Milky Way galaxy, there lies a small green planet. In the most conceited nation on this planet lies a town that calls itself home to an almost universally overlooked girl. This is not her story.

But it is the story of another girl whose sardonic wit would help her deal with the consequence that she had privately been praying for since she could remember.

It starts in a classroom.

Chapter 1

It was an ordinary art classroom in most respects. It had the characteristic splash-marks of paint on the floor, and splatters of clay slip on the windows where some lucky students had had access to pottery wheels in the pre-Li regime. The remnants of the ceiling fans had spiral painted centres – an obvious tribute to a summer painting class’s antics when Miss Defoe had left the room. The storeroom was practically bare - yet another symptom of Ms Li’s tight budgeting.

The only person who was overly fond of this classroom was Jane Lane, and the reason for that was obvious – it was an art room, after all. A haven where she could ponder the finer points of the universe - and where Earth, and Lawndale in particular, fit in.

Being Monday, it was of course the most dreary of afternoons and Jane was finishing up a painting while she waited for Daria to return from her locker. Jane was feeling the bite of yet another of Ms Li’s budget cutbacks, and she was wondering when Ms Li would disband the Arts program altogether – allegedly due to lack of funding. Jane privately suspected that Ms Li had a personal vendetta against her and all the other ‘unpopular’ students, but she couldn’t be bothered voicing that opinion. She knew that to some extent it was true - the chess club had been disbanded, as had the poetry club. Daria had felt the brunt of that blow. With the poetry club gone, she no longer had any interest in extra-curricular activities. [2]

For some reason, Jane’s mind wandered to her brother Trent, who she hadn’t seen nor heard from for four weeks. While it was possible that he was lost in his own bedroom or had fallen asleep in the pottery bunker, her mind dwelled on the fact that his last known whereabouts was in the vicinity of Dega Street.

While Jane’s mind was wandering, Daria walked into the room.

‘Your locker’s beeping.’

Jane continued painting, and pondering. Daria looked at her curiously, and shrugged.

‘Jane, I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but your locker is beeping.’ she said sardonically. ‘I’d go check it out before it blows up.’

Jane looked up and saw Daria. She smiled.

‘It might just be reversing.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll go check it out, okay.’

While Jane was checking out the noise in her locker, Daria had a look at the painting Jane was working on. It was deep, dark and mysterious. There were shadows of reality in it that Daria had never conceived of, and it made her nervous. Qualities of this painting seemed to be out of line with the general worldview of the universe, but Daria suspected that that wasn’t what made her edgy. It was just the totally alien feel of the painting, there was something in it that suggested that Jane knew a whole lot more about the universe than Daria would ever know. And it frightened her.

Jane came running back into the art room, disrupting Daria’s speculation.

‘Do you have a towel in your locker, Daria?’

‘Sure. Why?’

‘No time to explain. We have to get that towel and get to Dega Street within the hour.’

She grabbed Daria by the arm and dragged her towards the lockers, knocking down her painting in the process. It came to rest face up on the floor, showing the image Jane had been working on. Pinpricks of white with tiny splashes of colour on a blue-black background. [3]

The Guide makes a rather interesting reference to towels. It states that towels have many practical uses. Besides the obvious one - drying one’s self, you can use it for warmth in the arctic nights in the desert world of Zep-bugli or as a shield against the radiation of the chernobyl-beestes of Kalkuthba. When wet, it can be used as a weapon for fighting the lovekatts of Throsbermit [4] or sculpted into an artwork for the chain Nusmof Art Galleries [5] – if you’re broke enough to need the money.

They walked out of the building towards the Trentmobile, Daria having recovered her towel from her locker. She was still trying to stuff it into her backpack as she tried to get more conclusive answers out of Jane. But Jane refused to explain any further. They reached the car.

‘Just tell me one thing’ she said as she opened the door ‘Where is Trent, and why is he letting you drive his car?’

Jane got into the car, closed the door and started the ignition.

‘I have no idea where Trent is, and he has no idea that I’m using his car. I haven’t seen him for a month, but considering my family, that’s nothing unusual.’

‘Okay, I’ll buy that. But why are we going to Dega Street?’

‘That’s where he was last seen.’


Daria thought about this for a moment.

‘I don’t buy it.’ she said, after a minute.

‘What’s to buy? If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.’

Daria rolled her eyes. Sometimes it seemed to her that Jane’s eccentricity went beyond bizarre into the downright ludicrous.

‘Oh, let me guess. It’s the end of the world.’

Jane smirked.

‘You’ve got it in one.’

Daria rolled her eyes. It was going to be one of those days. Jane was always more bizarre on Mondays. Jane parked the car outside of the piercing parlour.

Chapter 2

The Guide describes THC [6] as an essential part of space travel. It acts as a suppressant of the feelings of unease and queasiness that often accompanies teleportation and hyperspacial jumps. It also has some pleasant side effects, such as inducing feelings of bliss and some hallucinations. The Guide recommends that THC be taken as a slow release tablet, instead of being smoked. Smoked THC tends to lose effect rapidly and is therefor unsuitable for prolonged periods of hyperspacial travel. It is more fun though, and somewhat cheaper.

‘Have you still got that two for the price of one special [7] going?’ said Jane to a guy with multiple piercings on his face.

‘How many do you want?’

‘I don’t want any – she does.’ Jane replied. ‘And six, three in each ear, like mine.’

‘We’re not doing the special any more, but I can give you a discount.’

Daria paled, remembering the pain involved in the belly button piercing.

‘Uh, Jane…’

Jane looked at Daria.

‘Come on Daria, we don’t have time for this. The world’s about to end, remember?’

Daria sighed.

‘If you insist. But do you have any painkillers?’

Jane looked at the guy with the multiple piercings.

‘Can you get us both a glass of water while I bolster my friend’s nerve?’


She pulled a container out of her backpack. It was a small vial with strange lettering on it. She gave Daria two tablets and took two for herself. Daria looked at her strangely.

‘What? If you’re squeamish about pain, then I’m squeamish about blood, okay. I need this as much as you do.’

The guy returned with the water.

‘Are you sure she’s ready to do this?’ he said as he handed over the glasses.

‘She has to be. It’s a part of the rite of passage into our cult.’ Jane smirked, and pulled a box out of her backpack. ‘She has to have these put into her ears. I’ll guide you with them, because they have to go in a certain order.’

Daria blanched, and swallowed the tablets with a large swig of water. The guy looked at the earrings.

‘I think I’ve seen these before.’

Jane looked at him, shrugged and downed her tablets.

‘Let me guess. It was about a month ago, right?’

The guy looked at her strangely.

‘What’s going on?’

Daria smirked.

‘If you believe my friend here, the world’s about to end, and we need the earrings to take us to the next life.’

They walked over to a reclining seat. Daria was beginning to feel very mellow.

‘Are you ready to do this?’ asked the guy.

‘Sure.’ Daria replied with a stupid grin.

With Jane’s help he pierced her ears. Daria didn’t so much as flinch.

‘Six piercings, at forty bucks a pop is…’ the guy started.

Jane thrust three hundred dollars into his outstretched hand.

‘Keep the change.’ she said with a smirk. ‘The world’s about to end’

The guy stared as the two girls walked out.

‘Bloody strange. Real bloody strange.’

He walked over to the door and turned the sign over. It now read ‘closed’. He locked up, and went out the back of the shop.

The girls didn’t even turn around as a gunshot [8] clapped behind them.

‘Do you always have this effect on people?’ Daria asked.

‘Only on Mondays.’

Chapter 3

On Earth, Mondays are renowned for inauspiciousness. Perhaps this is because it is the start of the working week, but today it was an accurate perception. For at this moment there were numerous large pink things heading for Earth at a great velocity. As they sped past Jupiter they regrouped, and then moved into orbit around Earth.

Daria and Jane continued walking. People in the street were standing still, staring in horror at the now pink sky. Daria tripped over a Goth guy’s doc marten, falling flat on her back.

‘Oh great’ she said, noticing the sky for the first time. ‘Not only is the world about to end, but Quinn’s fantasy is coming true.’

Jane looked ominously at the sky.

‘Ugh. Pink.’ she said. Then realisation dawned on her. ‘Oh great. Morons.’

She reached into her backpack and pulled out what appeared to be an electronic personal organiser. She tapped a few keys, perused the screen, and looked up at the sky. Looking down again, she noticed Daria still lying prostrate on the bitumen. She stretched out her hand and helped Daria to her feet.

‘I noticed.’ Daria quipped. ‘You can’t take two steps in this town without tripping over one.’

Jane just stared at her ‘organiser’.

‘Have you noticed’ Daria muttered, ‘How eerily quiet it is? How nobody is doing anything but looking at the sky and wetting themselves?’

‘Shh. They’re about to say something. Damn Morons.

At that moment, a microwave bounced off all of the satellites in orbit around the Earth and connected to every TV and radio station in the world.

‘Mhhriiiiiiiiiiiichssssssssssth gaaarrrult-hck jjjjjeieiemoorrrrrschk streiiiiiii Nusmof Art Gallery. Gurlft hhhssssstipah sjeika tdroj. Juapit. Mhhriiiiiiiiiiiichssssssssssth gaaarrrult-hck jjjjjeieiemoorrrrrschk streiiiiiii Nusmof Art Gallery. Gurlft hhhssssstipah sjeika tdroj.’

This is what it sounded like to most of the inhabitants of Earth. Strangely enough, Daria and Jane heard it differently. To them it sounded like ‘Humans, your planet is being demolished to make way for a Nusmof Art Gallery [9]. You have ten minutes to vacate the premises. Repeat. Humans, your planet is being demolished to make way for a Nusmof Art Gallery. You have ten minutes to vacate the premises.’

Jane continued tapping away at her ‘organiser’. Scanning the screen, she saw something she liked, and acted on it.


‘What’s to be so joyful about, Ms Newly Rhapsodic?

‘Zigisi, that’s what.’


‘We may be rescued.’

Some people in the crowd were muttering. Daria looked confused.

‘Why doesn’t anyone understand the broadcast?’

‘Huh?’ Jane looked up. ‘Oh, it’s those earrings. They’re a complex translation system that forces certain sound waves to vibrate in a way that your brain can comprehend. For you, languages are translated into English.’

‘No wonder you are so good at Spanish, then.’

‘No, I just happen to be good with languages. Anyway, we’d better be going.’


‘Just stay in contact with me until I tell you to let go, okay. The Zigisi only have one homing signal to lock on to.’

‘Whatev…’ Daria was cut off as the transporter locked onto them. ‘…er.’

‘You can let go now.’

Daria let go of Jane’s arm with a sigh of relief. She looked around the room and was unimpressed.

‘So this is what the inside of a spaceship looks like. Rather reminiscent of Trent’s room.’

‘I didn’t say the Zigisi were a tidy bunch. Besides, where do you think Trent gets his habits from?’

Daria sank onto a pile of dirty laundry uneasily. Jane wandered around until she found a window.

‘Hey, Daria come and have a look at this.’

Daria removed herself from the pile, stepping carefully to avoid tripping on alien jocks. She joined Jane at the window, looking out at the stars.

‘Uh, nice. Can I go back to the pile of jocks now?’

The view through the window changed and Daria and Jane both gasped in shock. They both gazed at something vaguely familiar. The faint twinkle of distant stars amid tiny chunks of rock against a blue-black sky.

Daria smirked.

‘Now why the hell does that look so damn familiar?’

To Be Continued

Assume for the sake of this fanfic crossover that the girls are in their final year of school ie: that they are 18, making Trent 23. I have used both ‘Daria’ and ‘The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ without permission. My apologies to Glenn Eichler, Susie Lewis Lynn and Douglas Adams for using your creations without permission. Please don’t sue me – I have no money, I don’t even own the computer I’m using. Be happy that you have such a dedicated fan, and enjoy the free publicity.

Tafka is Ó of Tafka and no one else is Tafka.






  1. I pronounce it ‘taf – nah’ (hint - I could be a princess)
  2. I assume that Daria would be in a poetry club if one existed at Lawndale. Also, it doesn’t take a great stretch of the imagination to see Ms Li cutting back funding on these ‘unpopular’ extra-curricular activities.
  3. This is a hint. Call it foreshadowing if you will – it isn’t essential, but it is cute!
  4. This is an anagram of Robert Smith. Again, me being cute. Check it out.
  5. Nusmof Art Galleries only exhibit towel sculptures.
  6. Yes, this is the hallucinogen in marijuana. They are too young for the ‘pub scene’, so I changed it about a bit. No, the sniffer dogs wouldn’t have smelt it because they would have been trained to sniff out buds & leaves, not the concentrated hallucinogen coated in glucose.
  7. ‘Pierce Me’
  8. Who wouldn’t kill themselves if the end of the world was nigh? Or was it just the way that Daria and Jane talk that made him suicidal? You choose…
  9. Like I said, it’s a chain – the McDonalds of art galleries.