ANOTHER STUPID DARIA INTERNSHIP FIC

 

A fanfic by Brother Grimace

 

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic was inspired by Roger E. Moore’s fic ‘Through A Scooby Darkly’, where Scooby-Doo takes it on the chin. Now, you know whom to blame for this. Also, this takes place roughly two months after the events in ‘Is It College Yet?’)

 

(Scene: The Morgendorffer home. Daria sits in the living room and watches TV while Catbert, the Evil Director of Human Resources, sits on the couch next to her and reads a dog-eared copy of ‘The 100 Things I’d Do If I Were An Evil Overlord: The Corporate Version’.

 

‘Sick, Sad World’ Announcer: (OS) They lie, they cheat, they try to wear five-inch heels and they worship Yanni! ‘The Average Woman – If We Couldn’t Sleep With You, There’d Be Bounties On Your Heads!’ That’s NEXT – on ‘Sick, Sad World!’ (Catbert lifts her head and looks at Daria.)

 

Daria: (not even looking) One word from you and I kick for distance.

 

Catbert: This is how you treat the cat overseeing your internship?

 

Daria: I am wearing steel-toed boots. Your pelt and bones will just wrap around them like a soft, fluffy bath towel.

 

Catbert: Okay, watch the stupid show. (beat) A REALLY good intern would be studying her company texts.

 

Daria: A REALLY good intern would be out looking for reinforced kneepads.

 

(Catbert starts to speak, but thinks better of it and turns back to his book.)

 

Daria: What are you reading, anyway?

 

Catbert: None of – (He goes quiet and looks up as Quinn prances down the stairs.)

 

Quinn: Oh, Dar-riaaaaa… (She stops as she sees Catbert on the couch.) What is that thing doing in here? (Catbert keeps flicking his claws as Quinn keeps talking.) Mom didn’t say that we could have pets!

 

Daria: Then how do you explain Tiffany and Stacy?

 

Quinn: Oh, ha, ha, ha. (beat) Is THAT supposed to be a cat? It’s so mangy, those ears look like little demon-horns – and WHY is it wearing glasses?

 

Catbert: To better see what you’ve got coming in your future, you shrimp-haired heifer- (He’s cut off as Daria pushes his head down into the sofa cushions.)

 

Quinn: What did you say?

 

Daria: That was the TV.

 

Quinn: (glancing over and grimacing at the SWW logo) Oh, okay.  (beat) I’m off to shop – don’t wait up!

 

Catbert: (muffled) Dying here.

 

Daria: (letting him up) Sorry about that.

 

Catbert: Well, I can tell you who’s never going to see a raspy tongue ever again…

 

Daria: I’ll let you desecrate her smiley-face pillow later.

 

Quinn: Throw in an extra two minutes before you come to get me after she catches me watching her in the shower. (beat) Her AND your mom.

 

Daria: Deal – and any scalding-hot water you encounter is your problem. (They settle back when a frantic knocking comes from the door.)

 

Catbert: (cocking an ear back) Idiot?

 

Daria: Idiot. (She starts to rise when the door flies open and Kevin Thompson rushes in, his goofy look of happy ignorance now speckled with worry.)

 

Kevin: You’ve gotta help me, Daria, you’ve gotta!

 

Catbert: And just how does this boil on the buttocks of our collective intelligence know where you live…?

 

Daria: What I want to know is why the house lasers didn’t crisp him like blackened whitefish.

 

Catbert: (slowly shaking his head) You’re such a child, Daria. Blades, or boiling fluids that adhere to the body.

 

Kevin: (totally oblivious to what was just said) You’ve gotta help me, Daria, you just gotta!

 

Daria: (eyebrows raised) I do?

 

Kevin: Ms. Li wouldn’t let me graduate, so that means I’ll still be the QB next year, so that’s cool, but Britt WON’T be the head cheerleader, and that blows ‘cause next year she won’t get the chance to after we win games except for when she comes home from college for breaks! What’ll I do, Daria? You’re a brain, so help me, please!

 

(Daria and Catbert look at one another, then back to Kevin.)

 

Catbert: May I?

 

Daria: Take him. (Kevin takes a quick step back as Catbert stands up on his hind legs and claps his front paws together twice.)

 

(Daria’s eyes widen slightly as the front door flies open to admit a flood of rats that encircle a screaming Kevin, then sweep him up and away within a flood of black, brown and gray fur! The door slams shut, and Daria & Catbert go to the front window, where Kevin is seen as he screams and flails about to no avail on the front lawn as the rats swirl around and over him like a tornado of vermin! The rats suddenly fall away and disappear into the night to reveal a polished skeleton, an undisturbed head of hair, and a stunningly overstuffed gym sock lying on the ground.)

 

Catbert: Impressive.

 

Daria: Most impressive. (The doorbell rings, and Daria opens it to reveal ‘the man’ from ‘The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow’.)

 

The Man: (slightly surprised to see Daria) Oh, it is your home. Nice to see you again – (glances at Catbert) - although I’d thought you’d have better taste in companions.

 

Catbert: Get buggered by a water buffalo.

 

Daria: Do I know you?

 

The Man: What happened to that red-haired boy with the ones and zeroes fixation? (He steps inside without being invited.) Oh, right, that’s Nielsen’s throw. (beat; snaps his fingers) SLOANE! Tom Sloane – you’re dating him, right?

 

Daria: One – Info’s off by a couple of months. Two – who ARE you?

 

The Man: We’ll talk later – I promise. (beat) Catbert?

 

Catbert: Yeah. Where do I sign?

 

The Man: (bringing out a Tablet PC) Sign here, here and here, initial here and here, and I’ll need a paw print here. (Catbert does so as Daria watches with her mouth slightly open, and ‘the man’ prints off a sheet of paper.) Your receipt for services rendered.

 

Catbert: No charge?

 

The Man: You’ve got credit on the books. (to Daria) Until our next meeting, Miss Morgendorffer. I’ll see myself out.

 

Catbert: Later. (The man leaves, and Daria & Catbert return to their spots on the sofa.)

 

Daria: That was almost inspirational.

 

Catbert: Well, he’s always had that effect on the ladies…

 

Daria: The rats, not the man.

 

Catbert: And yet, we still have no idea as to why questions still arise as to the nature of our sexual inclinations…

 

Daria: Excuse me. Am I going to be lectured to about whether I want a ‘His’ or a second ‘Hers’ towel in my bathroom by a creature that hefts its leg skyward and gratifies itself in public at the drop of a hat?

 

Catbert: (singing quite off-key) ‘…Singing the blues while the lady cats cry/Wow, stray cat, you’re a real gone guy/I wish I could be as carefree and wild/But I got cat class and I got cat style’.

 

Daria: (through a pained grimace) Thank you very much. That’s a year of therapy that needs to happen. (She yawns, and glances at what Catbert is reading.) What’s that you’re going through?

 

Catbert: Everything you need to get ahead in business, make ungodly amounts of money and power, and yet stay below the radar. (A TRULY evil smile crosses his face.) Someday – I may let you touch it.

 

Daria: No time like the present. (She snatches the book away, whistles, and Jane Lane bursts out of the kitchen with a canine posse close behind!)

 

Jane: THERE he is! GET HIM! (Lassie barks several times, and Jane cocks her head to one side.) What’s that, Lassie? You and your friends are gonna take Mr. Pointy-Ears here in the back, and mess him up real bad? (As if in answer, Snoopy pops a switchblade, Dyno-Mutt brings up a bionically-attached chainsaw and Bandit pulls out a silenced pistol while Muttley giggles manically, and Sparky the Gay Dog steps forward to scratch his crotch while giving Catbert a VERY scary look.)

 

Scooby-Doo: Rore rucked rig rime, Ratrert!

 

(Catbert screams like the Gestapo agent in ‘Raiders Of The Lost Ark’ as the dogs drag him into the kitchen, where the sounds of power tools running and soft, wet, pulpy masses hitting the walls drown out the hissing and gurgles of abject pain and suffering.)

 

Jane: Now THAT was a ‘jack. (beat; looks back into the kitchen) Your mom’s gonna throw a fit.

 

Daria: Nah. She’ll just think Dad went overboard on making Chinese. (She starts to thumb through Catbert’s book.) Hmmmn…

 

Jane: What’s that?

 

Daria: Stuff that I need to read over to make my internship a better experience.

 

Jane: Well, why don’t we read it over pizza?

 

Daria: (her eyebrows raised as she reads) Yeah – and lets not skimp. Chez Pierre.

 

Jane: (knocked back) Wow –YOU wanna go THERE? What bug got up your butt?

 

Daria: (nonchalantly) Oh, just want to see how we’ll be eating from now on, whenever we want to piss off everyone in sight.

 

Jane: Really…? (beat; fingering the book) Can I read that, when you’re done?

 

Daria: If you want to rule the world with me, you can. (Daria holds the book open as Jane leans in, and her eyes go wide.) See?

 

Jane: All I know is that I’m going to love having my artwork in the Louvre and the Smithsonian. (beat) Let’s go eat.

 

Daria: Of course, we’ll have to make sure that the waiter that serves us is the one Quinn always has…

 

Jane: And we’ll have to stay until they burn the unidentifiable things just right.

 

(Daria and Jane head for the door and leave, not pausing at the sound of a final wet, fleshy THWACK! against a kitchen wall, followed by the happy barking of several dogs.)

 

 

THE END

 

11 October 2003