Theme: "Lines"

Pencil, charcoal, pastel and brush Across the canvas of life they play lines intersect, lines depart And so it goes on, day after day

Lines...

Following our path through life

Lines...

Through all of the pain and the strife

Lines...

Lines...

Lines...

(Opening sequence: We see a blank canvas, a hand comes in with a stub of charcoal and begins sketching. As each line is drawn we see ghostly images appear: Jane hugging Daria at an airport, Jane in the backseat of a bs, said bus passing by Trafalgar Square, Jane spattered with paint, side by side with a girl about the same age with red hair tied in a pony tail wearing a paint spattered blue blouse and spattered black flared jeans, Jane facing off against a moderately handsome guy with an arrogant expression and pencil thin mustache. As the theme ends, we pull back to see the picture being drawn is Jane in a circle, a paint brush in hand. The drawing turns color and goes off to the upper right corner of the screen with the title of the series. The title fades out and the title of the episode fades in:)

(Fade in on the exterior of the Von Knipping Academy women's dorm. We see Jane standing near the front porch looking up at the window to her room. The camera follows her gaze to see Sasha inside the window, holding onto a rope. The camera follows the rope from Sasha's grip up to the eaves of the roof, through a pulley, and back down to a large plastic trash bag that appears to be leaking. Cut to an overhead shot of Jane, who is kneeling next to a large canvas and moving it.)

JANE: How's that?

SASHA: (Leaning out of the window slightly) A little more to the left!

JANE: Your left or my left?

SASHA: Yours!

(Jane adjusts the canvas then looks back up)

JANE: How about now?

SASHA: Looks good from up here.

JANE: All right, hold on just a sec.

SASHA: Hurry, will you? This bloody thing is getting heavier by the minute.

JANE: Right. (She kneels onto the canvas and draws some hurried lines onto the center of the canvas. She looks back up.) How much did we bet again?

SASHA: Five quid.

JANE: How much is that in dollars?

SASHA: About seven, now will you get the hell out of the way so I can drop this damn thing?

(Jane gets up and backs off by about fifteen feet)

JANE: Let 'er go!

(Sasha releases the rope and the trash bag hurtles to the ground, bursting open on impact, showering the canvas and part of the courtyard with neon green paint. Sasha leaves the window and appears on the front porch a few moments later, while Jane walks over to inspect their handiwork.)

SASHA: Well?

(Jane grabs an edge of the exploded trash bag and drags it off the canvas. This reveals a large irregularly shaped white area on the canvas amid the green. Sasha and Jane lean over. With the lines Jane placed on the canvas, the white area looks like a very deformed profile of Elvis Presley.)

JANE: (smirking) Told you. Pay up.

SASHA: That is not Elvis Presley. Any fool can see that it's Buddy Holly!

JANE: You wish! Look..(begins pointing) There's the sideburns, the pompadour, the nose. Elvis lives, sister. Pay up.

SASHA: And what about that? If those aren't glasses, I'll eat my hat.

JANE: You don't have a hat...but I'll buy you one anyway, because that is quite clearly his eyebrows.

SASHA: And since when did Elvis have a unibrow?

JANE: You ever seen him circa 1977?

(At that point, a short 15-year-old girl with elfin features and brown hair cut in a pageboy style comes out of the dorm. This is Molly Carnavan, Von Knipping's resident wunderkind. As she comes down the stairs, Jane looks up and sees her.)

JANE: Hey, Molly! Got a minute to settle a bet?

MOLLY: (English Accent) What on earth are you two up to now?

JANE: Just come over here.

(Molly sighs and walks over. She looks down at the canvas.)

SASHA: Who does this resemble the most to you?

(Molly frowns in concentration for a moment then:)

MOLLY: Not a bad likeness of Matt Damon, ladies. Excuse me, I'm late for class.

(Sasha and Jane watch her go, then look at each other, down at the canvas, and back to each other.)

JANE: Best of three?

(There's a sudden commotion in the quad. A group of students are clustered around a huge tarp covered object. Sasha and Jane look over. Quick cut to the nearby parking lot, where we see a gorgeous custom built Lotus pull into a space. We see Neville get out of the driver's seat. Cut back to the quad.)

JANE: What's going on?

SASHA: (smiling) I think he's at it again. Come on, you have to see this.

(They walk over to the crowd and we see that the object is standing on a platform. The object is about seven feet tall. Standing in front of it is a young man in his early 20's with black hair and blue eyes. He is dressed in classic "beatnik" garb; a black turtleneck and pants. When he speaks, it's with a VERY faint French accent.)

GUY: All right, all right! Calm down, people. I know you're all anxious to see my latest work.

VOICE FROM THE CROWD: What is it this time, Jean-Pierre? Neo-Athenean Confucianistic Agnoticism?

(cut to Jane and Sasha in the crowd)

JANE: What the hell are they talking about?

SASHA: Allow me to introduce Jean-Pierre Duval. He's a second year student and, if he has his way, the founder of a whole new scool of art.

JANE: Say what?

SASHA: Just watch.

JEAN-PIERRE: Ha ha. Somebody take that man out to be shot, will you? Thank you. (beat) No, my friends, here you will see my latest triumph!

(The voice pipes up again, and it has an Irish lilt to it)

VOICE: Is this going to be like your triumph with the pasta in the cafeteria last May?

JEAN-PIERRE: HEY! It isn't my fault that al dente pasta doesn't stick for longer than thirty minutes.

VOICE: I told you it wouldn't work.

JEAN-PIERRE: (to the crowd) Would somebody take the esteemed Mr. Doverton here and put him out of my misery?

SASHA: No luck there, Jean! Shane's a hell of a lot cuter than you!

JEAN-PIERRE: You wouldn't say that if you saw him in the morning.

SHANE: And when was the last time you saw the sun before two in the afternoon?

JEAN-PIERRE: (ignoring the jibe) Well, regardless of my inconsiderate roommate's accusations, I am happy to present the first in a series of works that will hopefully start the latest artistic movement: Happenstancial Post-Arboreal Zero-Consumable Retainism.

(Jane mouths the words to herself then:)

JANE: Wait a minute, did he just say that this thing is--

(Jean-Pierre pulls back the tarp, revealing a 1/4 scale model of the Von Knipping Administration building. It is built out of long wooden slats, approximately five inches in length. It's unpainted, so it remains in it's original light brown covering. Jean-Pierre stands back proudly.)

JANE: Yep...it's made out of popsicle sticks.

(Sasha takes another look and busts out laughing. Her laughter spreads to the rest of the crowd...and even Jean-Pierre looks at it again and begins laughing. The crowd starts dispersing.)

SASHA: (taking Jane's arm) Come on, you have to meet him.

JANE: I just pointed out the flaw in his work. Are you sure he's not going to jump down my throat?

SASHA: Not everyone here is Neville St. John. Besides, this is his eighteenth try so far. He has a sense of humor about it. Come on...

(They make their way to the platform. We see Jean-Pierre looking the sculpture over, while a brown haired man in jeans and a long sleeved gray T-shirt about the same age stands next to the platform. This is the aforementioned Shane Doverton.)

SHANE: Uh...I think that particular movement's been done already.

JEAN-PIERRE: It appears so. Oh well, back to the drawing board, eh?

(Sasha and Jane arrive on the scene.)

SASHA: Oh well, better luck next time, Jean.

JEAN-PIERRE: As always, Sasha.

SHANE: (to Sasha) Who's your friend?

JANE: Jane Lane. (she holds out a hand) Nice to meet you.

SHANE: Shane Doverton, you already know the Schooless Wonder here.

JEAN-PIERRE: How would you like to find your charcoals used at next week's barbecue? (to Jane) Don't mind him, he just can't appreciate genius.

SHANE: Oh, I can. I just haven't seen any around here lately.

SASHA: Oh, I don't know about that. Jane and I just put together an interesting conceptual art piece. We'd like you to take a look at it.

JANE: Settle a bet, so to speak.

JEAN-PIERRE: Always happy to help up-and-comers with my insight.

(Shane rolls his eyes.)

(The four of them wander back to the canvas. The two guys examine the profile for a few moments.)

JEAN-PIERRE: Interesting use of paint...I like the manipulation of negative space to create such a tormented face...the use of the charcoal on the profile is spectacular, it adds to the pathos of the portrait--

SHANE: It's Elvis, isn't it?

(Jane grins widely and turns to Sasha, who sighs and hands over a five pound note to Jane.)

SASHA: Bloody Irish bastard.

SHANE: I love you too, Sasha.

(A familiar voice chimes in from behind them at that point.)

NEVILLE: Excuse me, but some of us DO have classes to get to and don't have time to wait around behind obnoxious poseurs and loudmouthed hacks who block the route.

(Jane scowls and turs to face her archrival.)

JANE: Oh, look, Von Knipping's own answer to Bill Gates.

NEVILLE: Your sense of humor is as cliched as ever, Miss Lane.

JANE: And your head is still as big as ever.

NEVILLE: While yours resembles a lollipop...but as much as I would like to stay here all day and verbally bash you, class does call, so I will thank all four of you to get out of my way.

SASHA: Why don't you go around, Neville? I don't think your ego can fit through the group.

NEVILLE: I find that remark, my dear Sasha, to be about as sad as one of those pathetic plaster eyesores of yours that currently take up valuable space in the Gallery.

SHANE: There's no need to get personal--

NEVILLE: Oh? And what about you, Mr. Doverton? Haven't you given up this silly little obsession with breaking the family ties? Give up and go back to your father's estate in Dublin. I'm sure your inheritance will still be waiting for you.

SHANE: (turning red) You stuck-up, self-centered--

NEVILLE: (grinning nastily) I believe you mean, "self-made."

(Shane looks like he's about to haul off and deck Neville, but Jean-Pierre restrains him.)

NEVILLE: Yes, keep your pet Irishman on his leash, Duvall.

JANE:(with admiration in her voice) You know, Neville, I've been through a lot in my short life, but I have never seen someone like you before...

SASHA: Jane! Think about what you're saying!

(Close up on Jane, whose expression turns from admiration to mischief.)

JANE: ...Never seen a paitent who survived the Horse's Ass transplant before.

(The others start laughing. Cut to Neville, who betrays no emotion whatsoever, aside from a mild frowning.)

NEVILLE: Very mature, Miss Lane. Nice to see the American educational system is remaining consistent. Excuse me.

(He shoves his way through the group and off screen.)

JANE: Jerk.

SHANE: Are you sure it's a good idea to antagonize him?

JANE: Were you sure it would be a good idea to break his jaw?

JEAN-PIERRE: She's got a point, Shane.

(At that point, the school's PA comes to life with the voice of Arthur Von Knipping, the president of the school.)

VON KNIPPING: Attention, young artists. We, the school administration and faculty, are pleased to announce the second annual Freestyle Art Competition. You may enter any form of artwork that you like into the competition. The piece that takes Best of Show will give the artist three days touring the museums and archetectural wonders of Paris all at the Academy's expense. You may work alone or collaborate with other artists. All forms of art are welcome from painting, sketches, sculpture, performance art, anything. The only limit is your own imagination. Entries are to be finished for the public showing in the quad in three weeks. Good luck!

JEAN-PIERRE: Of course. Right as I have to start all over again.

JANE: Three days in Paris?

SASHA: Yep. The winner last year got three days in Amsterdam.

JANE: Who won?

SHANE: Who do you think?

JANE: Oh...lovely. Does everything at this school revolve around Neville?

SHANE: More or less.

SASHA: Rumor has it he blackmailed the entire adminishtration somehow.

JANE: I don't trust the rumor mill. Never have.

SHANE: Good policy. Just because someone's an ass doesn't mean they're evil.

SASHA: I guess. But it's not hard to imagine.

JEAN-PIERRE: So, Jane, going to make a splash on campus with the competition?

JANE: (smirks) I may have something in mind.

(Back to the show. The quad again, only this time it's night and there's a large tarp covering a section of one of the walls that make up the quad. There's a rustling under the tarp and a paint spattered Jane and Sasha emerge.)

JANE: There, that oughta do it.

SASHA: (stretching) I hope so. Two weeks of nightly work on this mural of yours has taken it's toll.

JANE: Aww, what? You not getting the beauty sleep you need to face Jean in the mornings?

SASHA: Oh shut up. We don't have that kind of relationship.

JANE: And what about last Tuesday when I came back to the room?

SASHA: That was just us having a bit of fun.

JANE: And the water balloons and rubber spatulas fit in how exactly?

SASHA: Drop it, Lane...or I'll bust you right in the nose.

JANE: Not a bad threat, but lacking the truly evil edge you need to intimidate me.

(At this point, Shane and Jean-Pierre walk up to them.)

JEAN-PIERRE: Evening ladies.

SHANE: How's the mural coming?

SASHA: Finished, thank God.

JANE: Not quite...it still needs a little touching up before the competition tomorrow. But Sasha's part in this is over so she can get back to her aerobics routine.

JEAN-PIERRE: Aerobics? (thinks and grins) Ah...AEROBICS.

SASHA:(to Jane) You really don't value your nose much, do you?

SHANE: (ignoring all this) Since you two have finished for the night, Jean and I were going to slip off to the pub for some drinks and food. You both are welcome to join us if you like.

JANE: Well, while I was hoping to get some life drawings of Sasha and Jean in action--

SASHA: Now, you're asking me to cut it off.

JANE: (ignoring her)--I'm game.

SASHA: And I suppose I'd better go in order to prevent this dirty-minded American from slandering me in public.

JANE: It's not slander if it's true.

(The four of them walk off, Sasha and Jane still bickering. We pull back to see a shadowy figure watching them leave. The figure puts a cigarette in it's mouth. When the cigarette is lit, we see that the figure is Neville and he has a dark expression on his face...)

(Cut to the interior of a pub somewhere. The Gang of Four are around a table, beers in front of them, with the remnants of greasy pub food on plates in front of them. Jane leans back in her seat.)

JANE: (finishing off her beer) Oh God, I can feel the hangover already forming.

SASHA: Lightweight.

JANE: Sorry, but where I come from beer doesn't form sediment at the bottom of the glass.

JEAN-PIERRE: Now, now ladies, you're both pretty...

SASHA: Drop dead, darling.

JANE: Hey, I just thought of something.

SASHA: Oh, more juvenile sexual innuendo?

JANE: I know where you sleep, MacTavish.

SASHA: Ooo! Is that an invitation?

(Jane studiously ignores this and turns to Shane)

JANE: What did Neville mean by "your inheritance will still be waiting for you?" And why did it get you so riled?

(Jean-Pierre and Sasha swallow their mouthfuls hard and look at Shane. Surprisingly, he doesn't appear to have minded the question.)

SHANE: Oh, it all has to do with my dad back in Dublin.

JANE: Huh?

SHANE: Dad owns a factory in Dublin. Plastics moulding. We're fairly wealthy.

JEAN-PIERRE: And, unfortunately, Doverton Sr. is obsessed with young Shane here carrying on the family business.

JANE: Oh the old "You'll never get anywhere drawing pictures" routine?

SHANE: Oh, you get it, too?

JANE: Not from my immediate family, but when family reunions come around, look out. (beat) So, if he's so dead set against you being an artist how did you convince him to let you attend the academy?

SHANE: (grinning) Granddad, actually.

JANE: Granddad?

SHANE: He was an artist himself. He never made it to international prominence, but he's fairly well known in Ireland. Anyway, he managed to turn it into a living and when he saw that I was interested in art when I attended school, he set up a clause in his will that provided me with a large trust fund provided I attended Von Knipping.

JANE: I take it your grandpa and your dad didn't get along.

SHANE: No, not really. Besides this was my mother's father. And when she died, well, Dad...changed, but he still relented when it came to the trust fund.

JANE: Damn.

JEAN-PIERRE: All right, that's quite enough self-pity for one night. We're here to relax!

SHANE: All right then, what do you have in mind?

(Jean and Sasha exchange smirks.)

SHANE: Uh-oh...I know that smirk.

JANE: What?

JEAN & SASHA: DRINKING CONTEST!!!

(Montage. Song Cue: "Beer, Beer, Beer"--The Clancy Brothers. We see the Gang of Four sitting around the table as a waitress periodically brings large pitchers of beer around. The gang is laughing, telling jokes, carrying on. We see Jean-Pierre and Shane, arms around each other's shoulders, and looking quite tipsy, singing loudly. Next, we see Sasha and Jean tangoing around the table. Jane, looking a little unsteady on her feet, taps Sasha on the shoulder and mimes cutting in. Sasha shrugs, leaves Jean, and tangoes off with Jane. Cut to later. Sasha and Jean are sucking face, while Jane and Shane stare at each other unsteadily, beers in hand. Shane counts to three on his fingers and both start chugging the beer. Jane finishes first, slams her mug on the table, smiles, and just as the last phrase of the song ["Ah, God bless Charlie Mops!"] finishes, she falls out of her chair and onto the floor. Jean and Sasha stop slathering over each other to look down at her.)

SASHA: (with her accent hugely exaggerated) I tole ye ye were a lightweight...

(Cut to the quad of the Academy. Our four sloshed heroes are making their way on campus. Sasha and Shane are supporting Jane who is having some difficulty staying upright. As they clamber across the quad...)

JANE: Y'know, you guys're great. I was consarn--constern--worried that no one would like me when I got out here.

SASHA: Uh-huh...just keep walking, Jane.

JANE: (to Sasha) Aww, she doesn't like me! (turns to Shane) You like me, don'tcha Shane?

SASHA: Oh for the love of--Jane, I do like you, but I think you had a little too much to drink.

JANE: Naaaah. Couldn't be--CRAP!

JEAN-PIERRE: Couldn't be crap? Then what is it? Vomit? (giggles)

JANE: No! Look!

(Cut to the wall where Jane's mural was. "Was" being the operative word. The tarp has been torn down, the scaffolding is a mess, and whatever Jane was working on is now a batch of multicolored smears running down the wall. Jane breaks away from the group, slightly more sober and collapses next to the wall. She looks over the wreckage, and runs a finger through the paint smears. Reverse angle, so we see Jane kneeling next to the wall. Sasha comes up and puts a hand on her shoulder.)

SASHA: Jane?

(Jane turns to look at her...and we see something we've never seen on Jane's face before. Not even during the Tom Incident...

Pure, unadulterated rage.)

(Back to Jane and Sasha's room. The door bursts open and a furious Jane bursts into the room. Sasha follows behind her and turns on the light. Even though she has more motor control than before, it's quite clear that Jane is still very drunk.)

SASHA: Jane? Jane, are you all right?

JANE: He ruined it. That no good, smug faced, son of a bitch ruined it.

SASHA: It's all right, Jane, it can be fixed...

JANE: NO IT CAN'T! I spent two damn weeks getting that mural finished, that's if you don't count the actual week's worth of planning that was involved, as well as requisitioning the god damn supplies! RUINED, SASHA! IT'S RUINED!

SASHA: I'm sorry, Jane. I know how it must feel.

JANE: NO, YOU DON'T! How can you understand?! You don't know me! No one here does! The only person who could possibly understand is over 10,000 miles away!

(Jane pauses in her rant, then opens her desk and rummages through some papers.)

SASHA: What are you doing?

(Jane doesn't answer. She snatches up a piece of paper and the phone dialing an international number. We hear the phone ring and then...)

DARIA: (on phone) Hello?

JANE: HE RUINED IT, DARIA!

DARIA: What the--JANE?

JANE: Who the hell else do you know who'd be spending a fortune to rant at you from London?

DARIA: Jane, what's--

(Cut to a wider shot of the room. We can now only hear Jane's half of the conversation.)

JANE: He ruined it!...my mural!...I worked for two weeks on it. It was my triumph, Daria! I was going to get that trip to Paris!...What?...Well...Oh all right! I had a few pints...Pints, Daria...as in beer?...No! No, I am not!...Why you little, I oughta fly back home and--

SASHA: (Reaches over and takes the phone from Jane.) All right, I think I'd better step in here before you do some permanent damage.

JANE: HEY! (she keeps grabbing for the phone but Sasha manages to keep her at an arm's length while she gets on the phone.)

SASHA: (into phone) Hello? Daria? This is Sasha MacTavish, Jane's roommate....Yes, she's a little upset right now...It was for a contest.

JANE: (Reaching for the phone) Gimme...c'mon....gimme the phone!

SASHA: (Continuing) We finished it tonight and went out for a celebration...yes, she did have a few...Well, when we came back it was destroyed...solvent, turpentine, who knows?...No...has she ever been this outraged before?...If you have any suggestions...Right...right...Okay....Yes, I'll do that...All right. Nice to talk to you, Daria. I'll have her call you tomorrow...

JANE: I wanna talk to her NOW!

SASHA: Goodbye. (She hangs up.)

JANE: Why you...(Jane takes a wild swing at Sasha, who cathes the wild punch and manuevers Jane down on her bed.)

SASHA: Daria's a good friend to you, you know that? (She takes Jane's vest off, and begins unlacing her shoes.) If it were up to me, I'd shove you under a cold shower, but since she's your best friend and she seems to know what's best for you, I'm just going to let you sleep it off.

JANE: (beginning to fade from hitting the bed and coming off the anger high) That's rat bastard St. John...ruined it...

SASHA: (dropping Jane's shoes on the floor and covering her with a blanket.) Yes, I know.

JANE:...'m gonna get him...rippiznutzoff....

SASHA: Yes, I'm sure you will. But sleep now, you'll be able to take care of it tomorrow.

JANE: Damn straight...

(She passes out. Sasha looks down at Jane, who still has an expression of anger, even as she sleeps. Sasha frowns, looks out the window towards the men's dorm, then down. Cut to a shot of the wreckage, where Shane and Jean-Pierre are cleaning up the mess. Sasha appears from off screen, and we see the three talking, before going off in different directions.)

(Cut to the next morning. Jane energes from under the blanket, in the throes of a major hangover.)

JANE: uuunnnhhhh...

(She peers over at Sasha's bed. It hasn't been slept in. Jane hauls herself out of bed, and into the bathroom.)

JANE: Water...

(She fills the sink, and holds herself up by leaning on it. She fumbles through the medicine cabinet, unearthing a bottle of aspirin. She manages to get two tablets out and swallows them dry. She shuts the water off on the nearly full sink, sighs, then dunks her head in the water. She comes up a few seconds later.)

JANE: Aaaah! (breathes) Well, it'll do for now...

(Later. Jane walks out into the quad, sunglasses on. The quad is filled to capacity with various students displaying their entries for the contest. Jane looks depressed as she makes her way past the paintings, sculptures, and other artwork. As she walks through the crowd, she encounters Molly, who is displaying a gorgeous mideval style tapestry.)

MOLLY: Jane!

JANE: (holding her head) Unnhh. Molly...please..don't shout.

MOLLY: (subdued) Sorry.

JANE: 'S okay. (She looks at the tapestry.) Wow. This is really good, Molly.

MOLLY: Thanks. Where's yours? I didn't see it anywhere.

(At that point, Neville passes by and grins.)

NEVILLE: Well, I wouldn't worry, young Molly. I'm sure Miss Lane's entry will be quite...unusual. (he examines the tapestry.) Well, well...this is very interesting work, Molly...very interesting...a pity it's nothing original or provacative.

JANE: That's it. (She turns on Neville) It isn't bad enough that you annihilated my project, is it? No, you have to belittle everyone else's work as well. Why is that? Are you really so threatened by anyone who has as much talent as you that you have to ruin the experience for everyone? Or is it something else? Tell me, Neville...do you suffer from a small penis?

(Neville looks coolly down at her.)

NEVILLE: Penile jokes are the last refuge of the slow witted, Miss Lane.

JANE: And destroying a competitor's entry is the last refuge of the talentless!

NEVILLE: I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about.

JANE: DIE!!!

(With that, she leaps on top of Neville and sends the two of them hurtling into a nother display. Jane begins pounding on Neville's chest, while he grabs her shoulders and tries to get her off of him. Molly tries to pull Jane off him.)

MOLLY: Jane, please! This won't do any good!

JANE: (to Neville) You sactimonious, egotistical, self-centered...

NEVILLE: It takes one to know one, Lane!

(Shane and Jean-Pierre, paint spattered, appear through the crowd, see what's happening, and work to separate the two. Jean-Pierre pulls Jane off Neville while Shane helps him up.)

JANE: Let go! You saw what he did!

JEAN-PIERRE: (whispering in her ear) Jane, Sasha has it covered, trust us.

JANE: What?

JEAN-PIERRE: Just smile, play along, and you won't get in trouble for that.

(At that point, Arthur Von Knipping and several other faculty members arrive. Von Knipping is an balding elderly man dressed in a pinstripe suit.)

VON KNIPPING: What on EARTH is going on here?

JEAN-PIERRE: Oh, Mr. Von Knipping. We're sorry about that. It was a misunderstanding.

NEVILLE: A misunderstanding?! She bloody well attacked me!

SHANE: Yes, well, we're sorry about that, Neville. We told Jane that I was going to be dressed like you. I guess we misinterpreted that.

NEVILLE: What?

JANE: WHAT?!

VON KNIPPING: Yes, I'd quite like to know what this is all about.

JEAN-PIERRE: It's very simple, Mr. Von Knipping. This was a performance art piece the three of us, along with Sasha MacTavish, put together for this competition. It called for a look alike of Neville, which Shane was going to play and Jane was going to attack. Unfortunately, we were working the last few bits down at the pub last night, and I guess Jane misinterpreted what we said.

(Von Knipping frowns then looks at Jane.)

VON KNIPPING: Is this true, Miss Lane?

(Jane looks up at Shane and Jean-Pierre, who nids, then over at Neville, who is seething. She puts out a hand towards Neville.)

JANE: Ah hell, guys. Why didn't you remind me this morning? I'm sorry about that, Neville. No hard feelings?

(Von Knipping looks at the apparent sincerity in Jane's face, then at Neville.)

VON KNIPPING: Well, Mr. St. John?

(Neville raises an eyebrow, then takes Jane's hand and shakes.)

NEVILLE: Well...I'm sure it was a perfectly honest mistake. I'm willing to let it go...this time.

(They glare at each other.)

VON KNIPPING: Good. I'm glad this was worked out...and I HOPE there will be no further instances of this?

JANE: No.

NEVILLE: None at all.

(Neither takes their eyes of the other.)

VON KNIPPING: Well, since you've already started, is that it, Mr. Duval?

SASHA: (appearing on the scene) Not quite. Ladies and gentlemen, this way for the final unveiling.

(She leads them to a roped off area of the quad, where there is another large tarp-covered object, only longer than it is tall. The students and faculty crowd around. Sasha lets the other three of the Gang of Four into the roped off area.)

JANE: (whispering to Sasha) What the hell are you doing?

SASHA: (whispering back) Giving Neville what he deserves. Just go with it. (louder) Ladies and gentlemen, before my overenthusatic collaborator jumped the gun, the concept behind this piece was called "Sweet Revenge." Basically, it was to tell the story of two artists locked in such a violent competition, they began taking matters into their own hands. It led to one of the artists destroying the other's work.

(She points to where the remanats of Jane's mural are still in evidence. Everyone looks and one or two people gasp. Neville frowns, sure that something is up.)

SASHA: Greived, and angered by this blantant act of sabotage, the other artist takes matters into her own hands and turns the symbol of her hated adversary into it's own work of art. And with the generousity of Neville St. John, who provided the main part of this piece, we are pleased to reveal the final result. Ladies and Gentlemen..."Sweet Revenge."

(Shane and Jean-Pierre throw back the tarp, revealing the crushed and mutilated form of Neville's Lotus. The windshield is shattered, the tires are slashed. The body and doors appear to have been pounded in several places with a sledgehammer, and the whole thisn has been covered in neon green spray paint and orange silly string. The effect is...satisfying. The crowd stares in astonishment, then slowly some applause starts building up, until the entire crowd is applauding. Neville stares, stone faced at the Gang of Four. Jane and Sasha look back and Jane mouths "Gotcha" at him. Neville salutes them with two fingers and makes his way out of the crowd.)

(Cut to later. The Gang of Four is back at the pub, having lunch and celebrating.)

JANE: I have to hand it to you guys. That was great!

SHANE: Congratulate Sasha. It was her idea.

SASHA: Just doing something everyone's wanted to do for a while.

JEAN-PIERRE: Shame we didn't win though...but 500 pounds is nothing to sneeze at.

SASHA: Too bad we had to give it all to Neville to keep him quiet.

JANE: Better that than getting expelled. Besides, I'm glad Molly won the contest. She deserves it.

JEAN-PIERRE: True. Very true.

SHANE: Well, then, I propose a toast. (He raises his glass) To the victors!

ALL: To the Victors!

(And once again...)

NEVILLE: And to those with the spoils.

(He strides up to the table.)

JANE: What do you want, St. John?

NEVILLE: Simple enough. I'm here to commend you. The damage to my car notwithstanding, it's a pleasure to see someone who isn't cowed by my very presence.

SASHA: A complement. The day is full of surprises.

NEVILLE: (leaning into Jane) These petty victories notwithstanding, Miss Lane, I'm giving you an ultimatum, stay OUT of my way. You'll find life will be much easier if you do.

JANE: All right. Tell you what. I'll stay out of your face, but--

NEVILLE: Yes?

JANE: You back off on me, Molly, and everyone at this table. Basically, we reenact the late 1980's. Mutual non-aggression pact. Fair?

NEVILLE: (considers) Very well, Miss Lane. I agree to your terms.

JANE: Good. Now, get lost. We're eating here.

NEVILLE: (smirks) Of course. Good day, Miss Lane.

(He walks off, leaving the Gang of Four to celebrate. He goes to the door and looks back at Jane.)

NEVILLE: Yes, Miss Lane, we will reenact the late 1980's...the problem with the late 1980's, however, was that the situation could explode at any time...

(He smirks again and walks off. In the background, the Gang of Four toast again. The screen freezes and goes blue. Roll credits.)

"Jane Lane" and "Daria Morgendorffer" are (C)2001 MTV Networks and Viacom International. All other characters and locales are (c) 2001 by Erin Mills.