"Daria" is owned and copyrighted by MTV. All rights reserved.  This is
*not* an episode, but the best imitation of an episode that I could
write.  Thanks to the creators of "Daria" for providing so much rich
material for fanfics....

This is [or should be] the eighteenth episode of The Driven Wild
Universe.  It follows 1) "Rose-Colored Lenses," 2) "The Tie That
Chokes," 3) "That Thing You Say," 4) "'Shipped Out," 5) "Andrea
Speaks!", 6) "Cheered Down," 7) "None in the Family, Part One,"
8) "None in the Family, Part Two," 9) "Outvoted," 10) "Of Absolute
Value," 11) "Breaking the Mold," 12) "Surreal World," 13) "Erin the
Head," 14) "Primarily Color," 15) "The Age of Cynicism," 16) "Charge
of the Math Brigade," and 17) "An Uneasy Marriage."


I would give this fic a 3S... easily as long as "An Uneasy Marriage."
Can we say "On a special *hour*-long 'Daria'"...?

This is also what you might call an "In-betweener," meaning that it
is set sometime after "I Loathe a Parade," but before the events of
"Fire!"  As I explained, that's because this episode would have been
more difficult to pull off if Daria had a boyfriend, and it would have
messed with the DWU's continuity to have her date Tom, blah, blah.  Yet,
because this is an alternate universe, Quinn's embrace of scholastics and
Helen and Jake's problems go far beyond the show's portrayal to this date.
Don't try to think about where this fic might be placed in the regular
"Daria" season, or you'll go nuts...

Music-wise, I decided to honor the Beatles' #1 album, which consists of
all twenty-seven of their #1 hits.  (Ha, like that album *needs* promotion,
having spent weeks at the top of the charts.)  I figure "Daria" would never
have a chance to use the #1 album, now that the show is officially departing
after the fifth season.  By including its songs in this fic, I intend to
show posterity that young people today listen to more than just Britney
Spears or Eminem.  Or rather, *cough*, to show that *I* actually listen to
music...

Finally, the tone of this fic veers closer to drama than comedy.  Get used
to it: because we're reaching a "crisis" point in the continuum, there won't
really be a comedic DWU until #21.  If you want funny, go read some of my
past DWU's.  If not... enjoy!


Ten Spot Promo:  Is there even a Ten Spot promo anymore?  The last several
"Daria" eps just started right up after the previous show ended.  Oh well
<shrug> if MTV won't show Ten Spot promos, then I won't.  So until the Ten
Spot comes back, consider them retired in the Driven Wild Universe.


[intro theme music...................]

IN HER OWN WORDS -- by Kara Wild


ACT ONE

SCENE 1 (Daria's room, evening)

(Shot of the outside of the Morgendorffer residence. Cut to shot of Daria
sitting upright on her bed, scribbling furiously in her notebook.  She looks
deep in thought.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Dear Diary...  How original: I'm writing to you *again*
about some deep, burning issue that I'm loathe to discuss with another living
soul.  Though frankly, this one-way relationship is starting to get to me.  I
pour my heart out to you on a regular basis, but do you so much as share the
secrets that lurk between the spirals?  Do you ever open up your outer shell
without coercion?  I think not.

(Daria pauses to read what she's written.  She rolls her eyes at how lame it
sounds, then sighs and continues writing.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Well fine, this is the *last* time.  Or else our
relationship ends up in the paper shredder.  (Bt)  Anyway, surprise -- I've
been having problems with my family.  I just wish I could say they were the
usual problems...

(Dissolve to recent flashback of Daria walking up to Quinn's door.  She
stands there for a moment before knocking softly.  Waits a few seconds:
silence.  Then she knocks harder, waits a few more seconds.  When nothing
happens, Daria tries the knob with a lack of vigor which suggests she knows
the door will be locked -- which it is.  She sighs noiselessly.)

DARIA:  Hey Quinn?  Are you in there?

(Cut to close-up of Quinn sitting at her desk, bent over a math textbook.
She is scribbling on one of several sheets of notebook paper.  Her
expression, one of concentration, hardens at the sound of her sister's
voice.)

(Cut to shot of Daria standing outside.  She pulls back and stares at the
door, wondering what to do.)

DARIA: (faux calm, loud enough for Quinn to hear)  Well I guess Mom and Dad
were right about you taking the drugs.  I'd better go look up a good
treatment facility.

(Beat)

QUINN: (from inside)  *What*?!

(Daria steps away from the door as we hear hurried stampeding toward it from
the other side.  A click, and then it flies open.  Quinn pokes her head out,
looking freaked and angry at the same time.)

QUINN:  I am NOT taking drugs!  Drugs make you act weird and look *icky*,
and if you tell Mom and Dad I *am* I swear to God I'll *kill* you!!

DARIA: (subtle smirk)  Well, well: it's nice to be on speaking terms with
you again, sis.

(Quinn looks dumbfounded for a second.  Then, when she realizes she's been
had, she flashes Daria a dirty scowl and starts to close the door.)

DARIA: (making a move to block it)  Wait.  (gentler tone.)  Don't you think
it's time we declared a truce?

(Beat)

QUINN: (flat, wary)  I dunno.  (Bt)  Maybe if you agree not to spy on me
anymore.

DARIA: (protests)  That's not what I've been doing.

QUINN: (rolling her eyes)  Oh right: I guess you're just, like, *really*
interested in the way I do math problems then.  Do I look like I was born
yesterday?

DARIA:  Given the full head of hair and the two extra inches you have on
me, I'd have to say no.  (Bt)  But mentally, the jury's still out.

(Quinn's expression, briefly receptive, at once becomes angry again.
Daria winces, kicking herself for a quip that came so easily she didn't
even have to think about it.)

DARIA: (pushes harder to keep her from closing the door)  Quinn -- wait.
I didn't mean --

QUINN: (injured tone)  Y'know you keep saying that you, like, *want* me to
care about school, and then you turn around an' tell me how *stupid* I am.
Well that's okay: I don't *need* you.

(As she says this last sentence, she shoves the door so forcefully that
Daria loses her grip on it.  Before she can respond to Quinn's retort, Daria
finds the door slammed in her face.)

DARIA:  Glad we could work things out like sensible adults.

(Cut to shot of Quinn inside her room.  She gazes at the door for a few
seconds, looking as though she regrets what she did.  Then her expression
becomes defiant, and she heads back to her desk.)

(Cut to shot of Daria, still looking at the door, her face filled with
regret over an opportunity missed.  She's also stung by Quinn's tone: while
her sister has demeaned her on more occasions than she cares to remember,
she's never seemed as angry or hurt.  Finally Daria turns and walks slowly
down the hall.)

(Dissolve to shot of her, moments later, walking downstairs.  Zoom out to
show that Helen is seated on the center couch, leafing through papers with
a distracted expression on her face.  Daria starts toward the kitchen, then
pauses to look at her mother.  She ends up heading over to one of the side
couches and sitting down.)

DARIA:  Mom?  (Pause)  Earth to Mom.

HELEN: (gazing at two papers in her hand like she's not sure what they're
for)  Yes, Daria?

DARIA:  Have you noticed how Quinn's been acting lately?

(Beat)

HELEN: (startled, as if waking from a dream)  Huh?

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid at her mom's spacey behavior)  I *said* have
you noticed Quinn?

HELEN: (like her mind is on other things)  She seems perfectly fine to me.

DARIA: (uncomfortable)  I guess she's not *not* fine.  But she's gotten
really obsessed with math.  The way some people get obsessed with the coming
of the messiah.  (waits for her mother to respond.  When Helen doesn't,
she continues.)  She hasn't even spoken to her fashion minions for a
while.

HELEN:  Hmm, really?

DARIA:  Not that I'd consider it a loss.  But to go from obsessing about
fashion to obsessing about math just seems unhealthy to me.  (rolling her
eyes, quickly adds before Helen can say anything.)  And yes, I know this is
*me* talking: the girl who shuts herself in her room to write.  But at least
I can expand my horizons beyond Language Arts.  (more emphatic.)  And *no*,
I am *not* jealous of the attention Quinn gets from her math teacher.  Why
should I be jealous??

HELEN: (eyes trailing away from her papers, into space)  Of course not.

(Beat)

DARIA: (frowning with concern)  Maybe I should discuss this with Dad.
He might be more *focused*.

(For the first time, Helen looks at Daria with more clarity.)

HELEN:  Your father?  Don't expect him home until late tonight.

DARIA:  Again?

HELEN:  He's got another bowling league practice.

DARIA:  I thought he hated bowling.  Didn't he think the ball looked like
the face of his dead father laughing at him?

(Beat)

HELEN: (absent)  Well he likes it now.

(From her expression, it's clear Helen is bothered by the thought of Jake
going out so much, but doesn't have the will to do anything about it.  She
notices Daria's concern over her uncharacteristic behavior and gets a look
of contrition.)

HELEN:  I'm sorry, honey.  (small sigh.)  My mind's just been on some very
*complicated* matters of late, and I guess I haven't been as good a mom as I
could be.  (The guilt in her expression deepens.)

DARIA: (feeling sorry for her, trying to ease her concern)  No big deal.
It's just some thoughts I had that can wait for another time.

HELEN:  About Quinn and school?  (shifts into her "responsible parent"
mode.)  I don't think there's anything to worry about.  After a while,
Quinn's enthusiasm for math is bound extend to her *other* subjects.  The
most important thing for us is to encourage her as best we can.

(Daria sees nothing in her mother's reply that she wasn't expecting.  She
shrugs half-heartedly.)

DARIA:  I guess.  (admitting.)  I *could* stand to boost my encouragement
level.

HELEN: (smiling)  That's the spirit, sweetie.

(Daria stands up.)

DARIA:  Thanks for the pep talk.  (She moves toward the kitchen, the sees
Helen's smile fade quickly and a melancholy expression take its place.)
And Mom?  (awkward.)  If you... um, ever need...

(Helen turns around, surprised at her daughter's implied offer.  Looking
touched, she pauses as if to seriously consider whether to confide in Daria.
Then her familiar "I'm-in-control" smile slides into place.)

HELEN:  Oh I'm *fine*, sweetie.  Thank you for asking.

(Daria shrugs and exits the room, her expression faintly grim.  Again, she
isn't surprised by her mother's response, but she hoped for better.  Fade-out.)

(Fade-in to shot of Daria in her room, scribbling away.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  So there you have it.  Even as Quinn strives to be my
academic equal, she and I are pulling farther apart.  My mom may be
suffering from some level of depression, with my dad's frequent absences
being the likely cause... or vice versa.  But unless she admits it, she's not
going to get any help.  (Bt)  I don't know what *I* could do... beyond
slipping
Prozac into her coffee.

(Dissolve to shot of Daria sitting with Jake at the kitchen table one recent
morning.  Jake tries to engage Daria in conversation, looking ill at ease
and well-meaning, though not necessarily more so than usual.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  As for Dad, he acts as though everything is normal,
joking away questions about his late nights.  But like Mom, something's
definitely up with him, and I doubt it's good.

(Cut back to present shot of Daria.  After she finishes scribbling this last
bit, she allows for her arm to go slack and dangle over the side of the bed
as she lies back and stares at the ceiling.)

(Cut to close-up of Jane nibbling on the crust of a pizza, looking thoughtful.
She's been given a synopsis of Daria's problems.)

JANE:  Too bad this isn't happening to someone else's family.  Preferably on
a weeknight, between 8 and 9 pm Eastern/Pacific time.

(Cut to wider shot, showing her and Daria sitting in a booth, a pizza
between them.)

DARIA: (gloomy sarcasm)  On "As Daria's World Turns": where ridiculous
melodrama
is the norm.

(For a moment, Jane gets a faintly disturbed look, as though she wants to
tell Daria about something, but doesn't know how.  Then it passes.)

JANE: (more serious, gentle)  Look, it sounds as though you're doing all you
can do just by *being* there for them.  Try not to beat yourself up about it:
things have a way of working themselves out.

DARIA: (not encouraged)  Do you realize that last part sounded like something
your *mother* would say?

JANE: (cringing) *Ouch*.  You are *cold* when you're feeling miserable.

TOM: (offscreen, helpful)  Jane's right. (Cut to wide shot of him standing
over them, having just returned from the "young gentleman's" room.) Maybe
you just need to take your mind off.  Go out of your way to do something
you don't normally do.  Get out of the house, take a walk somewhere.

DARIA: (deadpan)  A walk.  Sounds like too much to handle all at once.

TOM: (tolerant)  Just anything to help you keep perspective.

JANE: (pointed, sympathetic)  Hey, that's sensible advice, amiga.

(Daria casts a grudging look at Tom, like she'd rather he not be
eavesdropping on the conversation.  But Jane looks at her with a "C'mon,
give it a try," which causes her to relent.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Find something different to take my mind off: what
other choice did I have?  Nothing *else* seemed to be working.

(Cut to shot of Daria sitting with Jane and Tom in Jane's room, watching
"Sick Sad World."  Jane and Tom sit close together on the bed, while Daria
sits a short distance apart, eyeing them with discomfort.)

DARIA: (VO)  I couldn't count on Jane's place to be my home-away-from-home
for *obvious* reasons...

(Cut to shot of Daria lying on the Lane family, positioned so that she
faces the ceiling.  Just then Trent saunters in.  Oblivious to all but his
guitar, he starts strumming loudly and grunting.  Daria reaches over and
puts a pillow over her face.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  So I tried a little bit of everything...

(Instrumental portion of "Eleanor Rigby."  Shot of Daria walking down the
sidewalk, past the park, and getting nailed in the back of the head by a
frisbee.  Shot of her standing in a bookstore, trying to read.  Shot of
Daria walking past an array of businesses in the mall with HELP WANTED signs,
looking as though none of them appeal to her.  Shot of her sitting at her
computer, trying to follow along with an IRC chat group, but looking utterly
bewildered.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  But nothing took my mind off.

(Shot of Daria walking past a student reading a newspaper toward the bulletin
board where school activities are posted.  With a sour expression, she
reviews  the listings, before finally turning around and facing the
hall.  She then sees Phelps stride past, briefcase in hand, checking his
watch.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  That could explain why I haven't let go of my wild
conspiracy theories about Quinn's math teacher -- in spite of the fact that
I've seen neither a discernible motive nor clear evidence of wrong-doing.  By
imagining the guy really *is* using Quinn for his own sordid purposes, I
create
a ready adversary for myself against whom I can exercise control that I
haven't
been able to find at home or elsewhere.  (Pause)  And if it's come to that, I
truly *have* reached a nadir point.  I never thought I'd say this, but I
really
need something to go my way.

(cut to)

SCENE 2 (O'Neill's classroom)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of O'Neill and OH standing at the front
of the room.  O'Neill gives Daria an enthusiastic thumbs up, to which Daria
reacts with minimal expression.)

O'NEILL:  (VO)  I'm so *glad* you've decided to make a *positive* impact
on your fellow students, Daria!  Your contributions as a tutor will be
*immeasurable*.

DARIA:  As long as you remain true to our no-Kevin agreement.  (Bt)  I don't
get paid, do I?

O'NEILL:  Only with the wealth of *satisfaction*.  But sorry, no money.

DARIA: (regretting this already)  Damn.

O'NEILL:  Here comes your first *mentee*.

(He and Daria turn to look at a young gentleman entering the room.  Daria
cocks an eyelid with mild recognition: this guy has lurked in the background
of several episodes, always silent.  He is tall and slender, with scruffy
light brown hair, dark sunglasses, and baggy pants and a T-shirt.  He
strolls toward Daria and O'Neill, looking wary.)

O'NEILL: (overly-friendly)  Daria, you know Vanny, don't you?

GUY: (deadpan, annoyed)  Vince.  I've told you *twelve* times already.

(O'Neill chuckles with embarrassment.  Daria and Vince just stand there.)

O'NEILL: Well they're... so....  (coughs loudly, tries to break the ice.)
Anyway Daria, *Vince* has been having a little bit of trouble completing
assignments.  (Bt)  And participating and showing up on a regular basis.
Maybe *you* could give him a fresh start by helping him with our most recent
paper topic.

DARIA: (deadpan)  I'd be thrilled.

O'NEILL: *Good*!

(Cut to shot of the outside of the classroom.  Daria and Vince walk out, in
the direction of the library.)

DARIA: (hushed)  And then afterward I'll go soak my head in a bowl of
bubbling hot oil.

(Vince overhears and for one nanosecond a smirk crosses his lips.)

DARIA: (awkward)  So what do you need the most help with?

VINCE: (shrugs, laconic)  Whatever.

(Beat)

DARIA:  Shall I interpret that to mean everything?

VINCE:  If you feel like it.

DARIA: (frowning a little)  Great.

(cut to: )

SCENE 3 (LHS library, after school)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Daria and Vince sitting at a table by
themselves, papers and books spread out between them.  Vince has his chair
tipped back and arms folded behind his head.  Daria shuffles through the
papers, frustration piercing through her deadpan expression.)

DARIA:  You probably think counting the cracks in the ceiling is more
satisfying than doing this assignment.  I don't blame you.  But if you don't
work with me, you'll be wasting *both* of our time.  And I'm too good at
doing that myself to leave it to an outsider.

VINCE: (tipping his sunglasses down to look at her)  So why don't you go
home, then?

DARIA: (rolling her eyes, grudging)  I have nothing better to do.  (Bt)
Besides, don't you want to come out of this knowing how to write better?

VINCE: (sitting up straighter, snide)  I *know* how to write.  Just not for
O'Neill's class: where a ten year old could turn in an assignment and get an
A.

DARIA: (unsure of what this statement could imply of her)  Hmmm.

VINCE:  That dude doesn't know a thing about "writing from life."  Why
should I bother with topics like "If You Were a Tree in the Forest of Arden,
What Advice Would You Give Rosalind?" when I could write about stuff that
hits closer to home??

DARIA: (can't help but ask)  If you were a lamp post in Lawndale, what advice
would you give drunk drivers at 2 a.m.?

(Vince smirks briefly at her quip.)

VINCE:  Like... (looks as though he's about to tell her, then considers who
he's talking to and thinks otherwise.) *stuff*.

DARIA: (sardonic)  Sounds very insightful.

VINCE:  Doesn't matter, you wouldn't be interested.  You must like O'Neill's
class, or else you wouldn't be tutoring for him.

DARIA:  It was more a case of entrapment  He overheard me saying I needed a
way to fill time, and before I knew it, I was getting the reach-out-and-touch-
someone-with-your-giant-brain lecture.  (Bt)  I'd have resisted if my other
options weren't just as pathetic.

VINCE:  (cracking a smirk)  Besides, it's a good way to mess with the heads
of the easily impressionable.

(Daria lets out a small chuckle, then looks embarrassed.)

DARIA: (warming to Vince a little)  O'Neill's not my idea of the perfect
English instructor.  He's not my idea of an instructor.  But I have to do
his assignments if I want to get to where the *good* teaching is.

VINCE:  Why do you need good teaching to write well?

DARIA:  You know of a better alternative?

(Beat)

VINCE:  Maybe.  (He looks as though he wanted to say something else, but
stops himself.)  So I take it you write outside of class, too?  (Bt)
What kind of stuff?

(Daria is about to say, when inspiration hits.)

DARIA:  Maybe if you do the assignment, I'll show you.

(Vince looks surprised by her offer for a moment.  Then, after some
consideration, he smirks faintly.)

VINCE:  Okay.  Deal.  (He bows his head and starts scribbling on a sheet
of paper.)

(Dissolve to shot of the two an hour later.  Daria is looking over several
hand-written pages, while Vince is reading a short essay she penned as he
was doing the assignment.  He looks vaguely amused, even impressed.  Finally
Daria stacks the pages together.)

DARIA: (vaguely impressed)  This is pretty good.  Although don't you think
"I'd embrace the searing pain of the hatchet" might rub O'Neill the
wrong way?

VINCE: (shrugs, collects his pages)  I just wrote it to weird him out.
'Sides, it follows the assignment, doesn't it?

DARIA:  Sure.  (Bt)  But be prepared for a call from Mrs. Manson's office
in a day or two.

VINCE: (cocks a brow behind the sunglasses)  I take it you speak from
experience.  (He stands up and scoops the pages into his backpack.)

DARIA:  Um, my essay? (holds out her hand.)

VINCE:  Right.  (He reaches into his backpack to pull something out, then
lays it on top of the essay, which he pushes toward Daria.)  Here's
something of mine that'll make for some interesting reading.

(He jerks his hand in a gesture that resembles a wave, and leaves without
saying "Thank you."  Daria cocks a mild eyelid at his behavior before
looking down at what he left.  The corners of her mouth twitch in a tiny
smile.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 4 (Daria's room, that evening)

(Shot of the outside of the Morgendorffer residence.  Cut to close-up of
a few pages of white paper stapled together.  Though we can't read anything
on them, we note that the layout of the pages is like that of a newspaper,
with columns and headlines.  The document itself lacks a newspaper's polished
appearance, but we can tell by Daria's expression -- as the camera zooms
out to show her holding it -- that its content is worth reading.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  So this guy writes for the underground newspaper.  That
would explain why he never bothers with class assignments...

(Cut to shot of the hallway.  Off screen, we hear a door fly open and a
whirl of stomping along the floor, as if someone is in a rush to get toward
the stairs.  Just then, the stomping softens, then stops.  We listen to a
hesitant pattering across the floor as Quinn comes on screen, carrying a
bundle of math-related goodies.  Nervous and contrite, she inches toward
Daria's door.  But before she can knock, fear gets the better of her, and
with a look of disgust, she turns around and heads back off screen.)

(Inside her room, Daria is still too busy looking through the newspaper to
notice anything around her.)

DARIA: (VO)  I'd seen it around school -- usually in the trash, soaking up
grease from someone's leftover tuna and onion "surprise."  I hadn't read too
many issues because I figured it was something reclusive anarchists created
to scare people with their immature threats.  Fortunately, I was wrong.

(Cut to shot of Jane, phone to her ear, standing at the easel in her room.)

JANE: (interested)  Well I'll be: so Slacker Vince Rogers isn't such a
slacker after all.

(Split screen to show Daria, on the right, glancing the paper over once
more.)

DARIA:  I didn't even think high schoolers wrote for this paper.  The names
aren't familiar, and I've never seen anyone pass it around campus.

JANE:  Aliases and general paranoia, methinks.  (cocks a brow.)  These guys
must worry about getting found out by the unforgiving masses.  I'm surprised
Vince even told you.

DARIA:  Yeah.

JANE:  Think he'll freak 'cause you told *me*?

DARIA:  I'll hold my tongue so he doesn't find out.  Just make sure you
do the same.

JANE: (amused/annoyed)  Aye-aye, captain.

DARIA: (leafing through the pages)  I don't see what they're so worried
about: it's regular articles intermixed with commentary on what a screwed
up society we live in.  (frowns.)  I'm almost shocked they haven't asked *me*
to join.

JANE: (smirking)  Too optimistic for their taste?  Some of those articles
*do* come very close to crossing the line.  And their tone can be pretty
dark.  (Pause)  Yeah, why *haven't* they asked you?

DARIA: (brief, bleak expression)  If they did, at least it would take my
mind off of home.

JANE:  So how are things going?

DARIA: (deadpan)  No one's bothered to talk to me lately -- (Cut to
brief shot of the hallway outside of Daria's room, empty.) -- so I'd say
the same.  Tutoring sucks, but at least it gives me the excuse to stay away.
Your young Thomas actually came up with a not-so-bad idea.

JANE: (benignly defensive)  Yes, *my* "young Thomas" isn't quite as bad as
certain folks have pegged him to be.  He was *also* the one who told you Mr.
Phelps was gay, remember?  Alleviating certain fears you had concerning him
and your sister?

DARIA:  Hmm, yeah.

JANE:  And he promised to glance through his school's records for any other
info that might be useful.

DARIA: (half-smirk)  He must be in overdrive to win me over.  (Bt., sighs.)
But he shouldn't bother: the more he feeds my conspiracy theories, the less
likely I am to put them to rest.  And it's not like it'll help anyway.
(face darkens.)  If I came to Quinn spouting a bunch of reliable info about
what a creep her teacher is, she'd just accuse me of lying.

JANE: (nodding)  Yeah.  (softly)  And your sister works closely enough
with Phelps that, barring the notion she really *is* an airhead, she
would know if what she's doing isn't right.  If you want to find out if
Phelps is using her, your best bet is to wait until she comes to *you*.

DARIA: (nodding, resigned)  Assuming something bad doesn't happen
beforehand.  (Bt., switching the subject.)  So, are you gonna be in
tonight?

JANE: (uneasy expression)  Tom and I were gonna go bowling.  (A
little too quickly:)  You could come if you want.

DARIA: (feeling like a third wheel)  No.  It's okay --

JANE:  We don't *have* to go bowling --

DARIA:  No, it's what you planned to do.  Don't worry about me.

JANE: (concerned)  You sure?

DARIA:  Yes.  (Bt)  Have fun.

JANE:  Okay.  (Pause)  Talk to you later.

DARIA:  Yeah.  Bye.

(She lays the phone back on its cradle and slumps down a little.  Then
she eyes the paper she's holding, gets a thoughtful expression.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 5 (Lawndale High, next several days.)

(Shot of the outside.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  It was another week before I tutored Vince again.
During that time, my mind was so glued to the damn underground paper,
I kept seeing it everywhere...

(Cut to shot of Kevin in O'Neill's class.  He wears a makeshift newspaper
hat on his head and has another copy rolled up like a telescope.)

(Cut to shot of Larry, a member of the Lowdown, first seen in "Breaking the
Mold," looking at the underground paper.  Cut to wider shot of Daria
standing on the opposite side of the hallway, facing her locker.)

LARRY: (idiotic smirk)  Man, they don't have *any* color pictures in here!

DARIA: (thought VO)  So was the copy Vince gave me some kind of invitation?
Or was it a gesture of thanks for a tutoring job well done?  (frowns, shakes
her head with frustration.)  Would I even *care* if Vince hadn't sounded
so passionate during our tutoring session?  He made it sound like he had so
many great possibilities open to him.  He made it sound -- dare I say it?
-- empowering.  (A look of wistfulness crosses her face.)

(Her musings are interrupted by a loud cackle from Larry.  Daria turns
briefly to glare in his direction.)

LARRY: (looking at the paper)  No sports... no upbeat articles.  How the
hell do *they* ever hope to compete with us??

DARIA: (sotto voice)  Maybe by cornering a market *you*'d never consider:
intelligent writing?

PHELPS: (off screen, muttering)  There *is* a thing called intelligent
writing, you know.

(Daria whirls around and watches with surprise as he rushes down the hall
without uttering another word.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 6 (library)

(Shot of the outside.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Finally I worked up the nerve to talk to Vince...

(Cut to shot of her and Vince in the library.)

VINCE: (puzzled)  'Course it was an invitation.  But I thought you
weren't interested.

DARIA:  What made you think that??

VINCE: (looking up from his paper)  You didn't say anything about it.
(When Daria looks at him quizzically, he pulls out a copy of the paper
and shows it to her.)  People on staff don't reveal they're *on* staff
to another person unless they're offering the chance to join.

DARIA: (rolling her eyes)  That's very clever.  And how exactly was I
supposed to *know* that?

VINCE: (cheeks reddening a bit)  I guess I thought you'd come to me
sooner.  (Bt)  Sorry... I don't do this too often.

DARIA:  Well now that everything's gone like clockwork, what's the next
step?

VINCE:  Come with me to tomorrow's meeting.  If you're interested.

(fade-out.  fade-in to:)

SCENE 7 (Daria's room, where we began)

(Shot of Daria scribbling in her notebook.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Who's to say whether I'll even go?  How much do I
know about this Vince guy?  Maybe he and the other staff writers are drug
snorting masochists who pierce their eyelids when they're not cutting school
to write articles.  (Pause.  Briefly, she gets a worried look on her face.)
Or maybe not.  No matter what happens, for the first time in weeks I've
got something to look forward to.

(She lays her pen down, sets the bookmark in between the pages and closes
her notebook softly.)



****************
END OF ACT ONE

[Shot of Daria getting Quinn's door slammed in her face, followed by
shot of Daria, Jane, and Tom at the Pizza King, followed by shot of
O'Neill giving Daria a thumbs up, followed by shot of Vince sliding a
copy of The Oracle over to her.]

***You are now entering commercial *HELL*.  Please keep your seatbelt
securely fastened.  You are about to see some of the lamest commercials
put on television.***

1) "Next Monday, on the Ten Spot: Stress over work and family finally
causes Helen to reach a breaking point... and she flees to the one person
whom she knows she can trust.  Catch it next week on an all-new 'Daria.'"

[Warning: this one is going to be extra-long.  And I'll say it right now:
it's NOT what you think.]

2) On behalf of MTV's parent company, Viacom, we bring you a "SURVIVOR 2"
promo!  (dramatic tone)  Sixteen strangers *abandoned* in the Australian
outback, battling to become the million dollar winner!  It's more exciting
than "The Real World" and "Road Rules" combined!  So watch it -- and help
us bring down the stale doughnut that is "Friends"!

3) After "SURVIVOR 2," catch the post-SURVIVOR show, where two intellectually-
challenged, but *damned* attractive, hosts interview the latest "survivor"
booted out of the tribe.  Hear about his or her plans for revenge on the
other members!

***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?***



ACT TWO

SCENE 1 (a residential neighborhood)

(Music: "Come Together")

(Frontal shot of Daria and Vince walking down a sidewalk, past several
ordinary middle class homes.  Vince walks with seeming grim purpose,
bent forward slightly in a way that discourages chit-chat.  Daria looks
outwardly calm, but she struggles to keep up with him.  His distant
behavior puzzles her somewhat, given that they seemed to have broken the
ice during their last two meetings.  But then again, she isn't exactly
warm and cuddly herself.  Finally:)

DARIA:  Um... so who are the other people on staff?  Are they high school
students, too?

(Beat)

VINCE: (noncommittal)  They're an okay bunch.  (forehead creases a bit.)
The important thing is that you work hard and stay committed to honest
writing.

(Beat)

DARIA: (frowning a little)  Thank you for answering my question.

(Cut to shot of an ordinary house.  Vince waves at Daria to follow him,
and they walk across the lawn around to the side.  Cut to shot of a
basement door.  From within, we hear the muffled sounds of people's voices.
Daria peers at it dubiously while Vince leans forward to knock.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Just the right place to dump a body.  (shudders, takes
a step back, looks around.)  Why the hell didn't I stay home?

VOICE: (male, inside)  What's the password?

VINCE: (rolls his eyes)  There isn't any.  Let us in.

(A moment passes.  Then we hear a click and the door opens.  Daria
squints, with lack of recognition, at a tall, slender guy about 18-19 years
old.  He wears a buttoned-down shirt that looks about two sizes too large, a
faded pair of jeans, and thick-framed glasses -- a square version of the
kind Daria wears.  His hair is short and dark and slightly messed-up, as
though he just rolled out of bed and forgot to run a comb through it.  His
face is rather plain, aside from being long and square around the chin, but
his dark eyes glimmer with alertness.  Overall he's unexceptional-looking,
but he carries himself with a quiet self-confidence.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  No skull tattoos or questionable scars.  So far, so
good...

GUY: (pleasant)  You're Daria, right?  I'm Damien Crawley.  Nice to meet
you.  (Extends his hand, Daria cautiously slips hers into it and lets him
shake it.)

DARIA:  Same here.  (thought VO)  No concealed weapons.  (Bt)  But then
again, would a secret club *use* weapons if its goal was to brainwash you?
(Bt., to herself, irritated)  Cut it *out*.

VINCE: (deadpan)  Way to lay on the pleasantries, Dam.

(Damien punches him lightly on the shoulder, in such a way as to show he's
not bothered by the comment.)

DAMIEN:  Come on in... I'll introduce you to everyone.

(He turns around and walks back down into the basement.  Vince and Daria
follow.  Cut to the dim interior, which Daria gazes at with caution.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Dammit, why couldn't Jane be here??  (to Damien)
Do you go to Lawndale?

(Damien turns around to face Daria as they reach the bottom of the steps and,
surprisingly, bursts out laughing.)

DARIA: (annoyed)  I know my high school is a joke, but --

DAMIEN:  I went to Lawndale for a little while.  Before that, Oakwood.
Before that, Monte Vista in California.  Finally I decided high school
didn't need me, and I didn't need it.

VINCE:  He took an equivalency test and passed out.

DARIA:  Oh.  That's nice.  (thought VO)  And you plan to live out your days
as a basement shut-in?  (She mentally kicks herself to prevent another
negative
thought from reaching the surface -- now is *not* the time.)

DAMIEN: (calling out)  Hey guys, we have a visitor.

(Daria looks past Damien and Vince and sees a rather comfortable-looking rec
room.  In the center, two large dingy stuffed couches and a couple of padded
chairs have been arranged in a circle.  Nearby in a corner rest three high-
powered computers with giant screens that give off a serene, blue-tinged
glow.
The surrounding walls have been decorated with murals, clippings of newspaper
cartoons, and posters of Beat poets.  Within this cocoon we see about a half-
dozen teenagers, some of whom we recognize as nonspeaking background
characters
from other "Daria" episodes.  A few sit on the couches, two comparing notes on
a notepad, one playing a Gameboy.  Another two watch a DVD on one of the
computers.  Above them, in a pocket where the wall dips down from the ceiling
and pushes outward, sits a person sketching.  It's difficult to see *who*
unless
one happens to be standing in the right location.  Since Daria is, she
suppresses a look of astonishment when she realizes the person is Andrea.)

(When they see Daria, the members of the group lay aside their activities
and stare with muted curiosity, rather than gawk.  Andrea glances down at her
from her perch,  probing Daria for a few moments, before returning to her
drawing.  Daria, herself, tries not to show any outward signs of her
discomfort.
As for Vince, he greets the staffers with a brief wave of his hand, and is
received the same way.  Only after Damien has moved forward and started
talking
does everyone pay attention.)

DAMIEN:  You know Daria, right?  (A few nod.)  An inmate at Lawndale High.
Toiled in obscurity like the rest of us, now chosen to be a part of the
underground elite.  (turns to Daria.)  This is Sara, Lou, and Danny (gestures
at the people on the couch.), Jeremy and Liz (at the computer.), and Andrea.

DANNY: (with the Gameboy)  'Scuse me Dam, but "obscurity"?  Didn't we put off
inviting her because she was too *popular*?

(This is news to Daria -- who never got this accusation hurled at her
except by Andrea during the brief time they hung out.)

DAMIEN: (meaningful glance)  Vince knows better than to invite
*high-profile* people.

VINCE: (deadpan)  Trust me: I read something of hers that was pretty
twisted.  No well-liked person could create that.

(Daria rolls her eyes, not so sure she likes *this* description of herself,
either.)

DANNY:  Yeah, but she was on the Lowdown and lived with all the populars for
that Class Land show.  (to Daria)  No offense, but this is a club where we
go to get away from all the joiners. [*]

DARIA:  It's all right.  (Bt)  Except that being in a club would make *you*
the joiner, not me.

(This comment causes many staffers to chuckle softly, and Danny to nod with
concession.)

DARIA:  My time on the Lowdown was the result of coercion. [*] (awkward)
Look, you don't have to have me if you don't want me.

DAMIEN:  Ah, but it's club policy that those who enter may never leave.
(smirks at Daria's stunned expression.)  Kidding.  We just get a little
overprotective of our group, since so many people have us on their
hit list.

DARIA: (eyes widening)  Like?

DAMIEN: (cocks a brow, amused)  It's better you not know.

LOU: (smirking)  At least it's not the mafia.

VINCE: (sotto)  But the list seems to be growing.

DAMIEN:  We tell the truth, and the truth hurts.  (shrugs nonchalantly.)  As
you may've guessed, our paper covers a lot of ground.  (sees that Daria
looks a bit rattled, strives to reassure her.)  But look: no one's tried
to break down the basement door with pitchforks yet.  Our alias policy
works pretty well, and we've managed to stay quiet when other people are
around.

DARIA: (reluctant)  I guess that's okay...

[*] see "Breaking the Mold" and "Surreal World"

(Dissolve to shot of her standing next to one of the computers a short time
later.  Damien stands over her, while a few of the other members of the
group have gathered round.  Vince hangs back, off to one side, while
Andrea remains in her corner.)

DAMIEN: (summing up his explanation)  ... Our paper reflects our status,
which, of course, is that of pathetic misfits.  (A faint titter from the
group.)
So of course it's gonna to cover things that are nowhere near the usual
school rags, or even in the local paper.

(Daria nods, already aware of this.)

DAMIEN: (half-smirk, raised brow)  And, of course, it's gonna be a lot
*better* than the other papers.  We don't sell it for profit or use
it as a vehicle to promote our popular friends, so we don't need
to dumb it down.

(A small half smirk forms on Daria's lips when she hears this.)

DAMIEN:  So now that I've told you how things are done, you feel like running
out the door screaming?

(Beat)

DARIA: (lowering her eyes in thought)  I guess not.  (Pause)  It seems
like it'd be worth a try, at least.  (Bt)  But would you mind if I
just stuck with the occasional editorial?  Like "Where the World Went
Wrong... Part 225"?

(Damien furrows his brow, as if to consider.)

DAMIEN:  I guess... (Pause)  But from personal experience, I can tell you
that it's more satisfying to be a part of the regular staff.  Right guys?
(glances around, people nod.)

VINCE:  Don't push her into anything, Dam.

DAMIEN: (rolls his eyes)  You know that's not my style.  (to Daria)  No
one here has assigned roles, though most people find something they enjoy
and stick with it.  You might even find that this place becomes like a
second home.

(Daria cocks a skeptical eyelid.  But, as she surveys the comfortable
surroundings and the staffers' seeming ease, she admits that there's some
truth to Damien's words.)

DARIA: (giving in)  I guess I could try a regular staff assignment.

DAMIEN:  Great.  (Bt)  There's just one catch: *we* choose your first
assignment to test your dedication.  So how 'bout you report on the
sanitary conditions in the Pizza King's kitchen?  We got a tip off the
workers there never wash their hands.

DARIA: (repulsed expression)  How do I do that?

DAMIEN:  That's up to you.

(Daria glances at Vince, who shrugs nonchalantly: apparently this is
standard procedure within the group.  After another moment's hesitation,
she nods.)

DARIA: (wry)  Let me guess: you start people off with tough and
possibly damaging assignments to get dirt on them early, so that if they
left the group and confessed everything, they would get screwed, too.

DAMIEN: (looking impressed)  That's right.  (Bt)  You're pretty good.

DARIA: (feels her cheeks reddening)  Um, thanks.

(fade-out.  fade-in to: )

SCENE 2 (walking home, evening)

(Shot of Daria and Vince walking down a residential sidewalk in silence.)

DARIA:  Um, thanks for taking me home.  (gestures at the dim light.)

VINCE: (deadpan)  No problem.  It's on the way to my house.

DARIA:  Good.  (They walk silently for several more seconds.)  The staff
seemed pretty nice.  (Pause)  And Damien seems like a good leader.

(Vince slows his pace and turns around.  He looks at Daria almost
accusingly.)

VINCE:  He's not the leader.

(cut to: )

SCENE 3 (outside the Pizza King, after school, a few days later)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Well the jury is still out about the underground
paper.  I still don't know if I should trust them, especially after
Vince's behavior...

(Shot of Daria walking up to the entrance and standing just outside,
looking at it, for the first time, with hesitation.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  But here I am, about to embark on my first
assignment.  (She takes a deep breath and squints at the entrance.)
Okay, it's not hard: just walk in, ask for Artie's number.  Call Artie:
pretend to be a health inspector from an alien planet and let him give
you the important details.  Assignment completed.

(Shot of Daria walking up to the front counter.  A husky middle-aged man
approaches her from the other side.)

MAN: (gruff)  Yes?

DARIA: (awkward)  Could I please speak to Artie?

MAN:  Where've you been?  I fired that kid two weeks ago -- this after I
hired 'im a *second* time when he lost his damn grocery store job.  He a
friend of yours?  (grits his teeth.)  'Cause I'd like a *word* with him.

DARIA:  Um, no.  (Pause, doesn't know what to say.)  Thanks.

(She takes a few steps back from the counter.  The man shrugs and goes
back to his business.  Daria cranes her neck to get a good look into the
kitchen, not really succeeding.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  All right, on to Plan B: ask to speak to another
employee.  (Pause)  Although none of them looks like they speak
English.  (glances doubtfully at the thinly-populated room.)  Ask the
customers if they've found any dark-colored pellets in their crust?
(She shakes her head, then walks outside to think.)

(Cut to the outside.  Daria slumps against the wall.)

VOICE: (off screen, quiet)  Hey.

(Daria flinches with surprise as we see Andrea walk up to her, lit cigarette
in hand.)

DARIA:  Did Damien send you to keep an eye on me?

ANDREA: (with, we notice, far less hesitation than in "Andrea Speaks!")
I always come here.  I just went out back to smoke.  (Bt)  So how's it
going?

DARIA:  If you mean the article: it's not.  I'm trying to figure out how
to get details without being too conspicuous.

ANDREA:  You could apply for a job.

DARIA:  Apply??  For just one article?

ANDREA: (shrugging)  You could quit once you've gotten your info.

DARIA: (reluctant)  But what if the manager won't hire me?  What if
I write a negative article and he traces it back to me and --

ANDREA: (assuring)  Relax.  Look at this place.  (gestures at the interior.)
I'll bet plenty of ex-employees have axes to grind.

(Daria pauses to consider.  Then she heaves a sigh.)

DARIA:  If he comes after me, I could always say it was Artie...

(Dissolve to shot of her walking back into the Pizza King wearing a "I can't
believe I'm doing this" expression.  With sound muted, she goes up to the
counter asks for a job.  The counter man looks at her a little funny, then
hands her an application.  Cut to later shot of Daria walking back outside,
where Andrea awaits.)

DARIA: (rolling her eyes)  I swore I'd never go back into food service.

ANDREA:  So you got the job?

DARIA:  Not officially, but let's just say there wasn't a lot of competition.
Thanks for suggesting it.  (Pause)  I'm glad, um... (Andrea looks at her
quizzically.) things aren't so bad between us as they were.  (Bt)  I think?

(Beat)

ANDREA: Oh that?  (shrugs a shoulder.)  I was pissed off at you for a while,
but I got over it.  Being on the underground helped.  (Bt)  Actually, I should
thank you: if not for you, I wouldn't've joined.

DARIA:  How come??

ANDREA:  One day in Spanish class I drew a picture of you getting pierced by
a thousand arrows.  (She doesn't seem to notice Daria's eyes widen.)  I don't
usually draw in Spanish class 'cause its one of my favorites, but like I said,
I was pissed off at you, had to get it out of my system.  (Bt)  Damien had
Spanish with me then, and when he saw my work, he asked if I wanted to join
the
underground.  I wasn't going to, but he said I could draw stuff like that all
the time.

DARIA: (a little pale)  Um, great.

ANDREA:  I started doing their cartoons.  Pretty soon I was hanging out with
Damien and others on the staff.  They told me about their screwed up home
lives,
and (cheeks pinken ever so slightly.) got me to tell them about mine.  It
was a
total shock, that there were people who actually gave a damn about me.  (Again
Daria gets a pained expression, which Andrea doesn't notice.)  People would
say
we're all a bunch of loser misanthropes, but those guys are the most caring
people I know.

DARIA:  But does the staff really try to stay so committed to truth, justice,
and the American Way, or was Damien just spouting a lot of bull?

ANDREA:  Oh we do, definitely.  (smirks.)  We love knowing our paper's more
honest than the professional crap out there.

DARIA: (sardonic)  You make it sound almost too good to be true.

ANDREA: (shrugs)  Yeah, I do, don't I?  But it's not.  (Bt)  And Damien keeps
getting all kinds of ideas for how to improve it.  (turns to Daria.)  Don't
worry about his assignment: once it's finished, you can choose whichever topic
you want.

DARIA:  Thanks.  (remembers the post-meeting.)  So where does Vince fit in
to all this?

(Andrea makes a face.)

ANDREA:  Vince?  He makes *me* look like a socialite.  Don't mind him: he's
a real talented guy, but he wants to stay a loner.  So after a while, we let
him be one.

DARIA: (remembering the library)  He didn't seem so bad when he recruited me.

ANDREA: (raises a brow)  Yeah, that was kind of weird.  Vince has never
recruited anyone before.

(Daria gets a strange look on her face.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 4 (montage, throughout the week)

(Shot of Daria standing in front of the mirror of a filthy Pizza King
bathroom, dressed in her work clothes.  For good measure, she's stuffed
most of her hair beneath her collar and is wearing a cap with a bill
that shades the upper half of her face.  She fingers the apron she's
wearing with disdain.)

(Music: "Help!")

(Shot of Daria standing in the cramped kitchen.  She stealthily removes a
camera from behind her apron and takes a picture of the dirty floor and
counter tiles.  Cut to shot of her covertly taking notes in the background
as in the foreground, one of the other employees kneads dough that contains
a few strands of his hair.)

(Cut to shot of Daria sitting in English class, jotting down some more
notes.  Jane watches her absorption with faint amusement and interest.
Daria then looks up and sees O'Neill staring at her with a surprised
expression.  She realizes, with guilt, that he had asked her a question.)

(Cut to shot of Daria in Damien's basement.  She's showing Damien and Vince
a copy of a draft.  Damien looks pleased, while Vince looks less excited.
He points to areas that could use improvement.)

(Cut to shot of Daria wiping a counter with a sour expression on her
face.  Jane and Tom walk up to the front counter to wave hello, which
only succeeds in embarrassing her.  Cut to shot of her later sweeping the
floor, looking ill.  We see that some of what she's sweeping is rat
droppings.)

(Cut to shot of Daria coming home in the evening and finding her house
silent.  She turns and heads upstairs, expression dispirited.)

(Cut to shot of Daria typing on her computer with a frantic eagerness
we've never seen before.)

(Cut to shot of her sitting at one of the computers with.  Danny shows
her the layout of the front page with her article on it.  With a certain
amount of pleasure, he shows her the tools used to design the page, while
Daria watches with interest.)

(Cut to close-up shot of Damien's high-quality laser printer shooting out
countless pages.  Cut to shot of the staffers looking over the pages
eagerly, sending compliments each other's way and Daria's way.  Daria
hangs back a little as the others begin organizing and stapling the
papers together.  Damien waves at her good-naturedly to come join them.)

(Cut to shot of Daria walking out the Pizza King and tossing her apron in
the nearest dumpster, an obvious sign that she's quit.)

(End music.  Fade-out.  Fade-in to: )

SCENE 5 (LHS, morning)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of a student reading a copy of the
underground paper, wearing a repulsed expression.  She rushes over to
her friend and shows her select passages, causing the friend to look
repulsed as well.  Cut to wide shot of the hallway: we see many people
leafing through copies -- more than ever before.  Close-up of Kevin
and Brittany looking green around the gills after viewing some graphic
photos of the Pizza King kitchen.  Close-up of Upchuck letting his half-
eaten breakfast burrito fall onto the ground as he clutches his
stomach and makes a funny noise.  Cut to shot of Daria and Jane, watching.
Daria's face is expressionless, but there's an obvious glow in her cheeks
and a liveliness in her eyes that Jane takes note of.)

JANE: (smirking, hushed tone)  To think this is all *your* doing.

DARIA:  Yep.

(Cut to shot of Kevin and Brittany.  Kevin sways a little; then, with the
intent of heading toward the nearby men's room, runs into a locker
face-first.
Resume shot of Daria and Jane.)

JANE:  I see why your group likes to hand out copies rather than keep an
online newspaper: that way they can witness the fallout for themselves.

DARIA:  Still, reading about filth is nothing compared to working in it.
(turns to Jane, pride creeping into her tone.)  Every day I was ready to
quit that job.  But I kept thinking how important it was to expose people
to the way our favorite hangout's been abusing our trust.  And whenever I
started to waver, the other people on staff backed me up.

JANE: (sardonic)  Aww, how sweet.

DARIA:  I can't believe I lasted as long as I did.  Even more shocking, that
I kept myself hidden from our peers.

JANE:  You definitely went above and beyond your usual range of activity.
(cocks a knowing brow.)  Admit it, Mr. Sinclair: all that muckraking made for
quite a thrill, didn't it?

DARIA: (conceding)  I definitely didn't hate it as much as I thought I would.
It was like that time I wrote the teen peer pressure article for the
Lowdown.  (sour expression.)  Except *this* newspaper's not afraid to
print my work.

JANE:  Yeah.  Too bad no one knows it's yours.  (Daria frowns at the faint
note of distaste in her friend's playful tone.)  So I take it you'll be
sticking with this group?

DARIA: (nodding)  Given that my home life's hardly improved, I'd say
it's the better option.  But that doesn't mean I'll be like Vince and cut
class.  As pointless as most high school assignments are, avoiding them
will just make it harder to graduate.  (Just as she says this, she spies
a note that someone has slid into her locker.  She opens it and gets a
look of surprise.)  Speak of the devil...

(Cut to shot of a hand-written note.  It states: "You know I'm not
much for talking, so thought this would be the best way to tell you
you did a good job.  Writing was honest and straight forward without
exaggeration, which is how it should be.  I knew I chose you for a
reason.  -- Vince.")

(Cut to shot of Jane, peaking over Daria's shoulder.)

JANE: (smirking)  Someone *likes* you...

(Daria swivels around, blushing, and folds the note.)

DARIA: (mumbles)  Well someone's got a funny way of showing it -- like
no way.

(Just then, we see Jodie walking over, carrying a copy of the underground.
Just before she reaches Jane and Daria, she takes one last frowning
look at her paper, crumples it up, and hurls it into the nearest trash
can.  Daria winces involuntarily.)

JODIE:  Hey guys.

JANE: (bemused)  Was that paper gazing at Mack in a less-than-innocent
manner?

JODIE: (making a face)  I really wish people wouldn't bring this thing on
campus.

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid)  Why?

JODIE:  Students don't need to read the ramblings of a bunch of reclusive
types who, for all we know, could be making up half of what they write.

JANE:  No kidding.

DARIA:  Like the Pizza King article?

JODIE:  Yeah.  How hard is it to put together some doomsday writing and
a bunch of doctored photos so it looks more horrible than it is?

DARIA: (an edge in her tone)  Or maybe it really *is* that bad.

JODIE: (rolling her eyes)  The Pizza King is popular; don't you think someone
*else* would have noticed a health violation?

DARIA:  Maybe.  (harder edge.)  But given how most people are so wrapped *up*
in themselves, they probably never thought to question the stability
of their comfort spot until now, only to discover that it's almost *beyond*
saving.

JODIE: (eyes Daria strangely)  All right, fine.  Well whoever writes for this
paper had better be careful of Ms. Li.  Now that it seems to be getting more
popular, she's gonna take notice.  And I don't think she's gonna like it.

JANE: (weary)  Surprise, surprise.  (Jodie smirks faintly and waves goodbye
to her and Daria.  Once she's gone:)  Simmer down, girl.  Do you want to give
yourself away??

DARIA:  No.  (she sighs, then scowls.)  It just pisses me off that a business
can be so incredibly *negligent*, yet some people would rather blame the
ones who try to open their eyes.  Dammit, nothing in my article was
incorrect.

(Jane nods supportively, but also with some concern at the bitterness in
her friend's tone.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 6 (Damien's place, several days later)

(Music: "The Ballad of John and Yoko")

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Daria sitting on the couch, reading
the Lawndale Sun-Herald with a dull expression.  The headline of the
article reads: "Popular Restaurant Denies All Charges."  Hyper-close-up
on the subhead reveals: "Health Inspector Gives Pizza King a Clean Bill
of Health."  Daria looks up, faint disappointment and lack of surprise
evident.  Zoom out to shot that the other newspaper staffers are gathered
around, some looking at Daria, others doing their own thing.  Andrea leans
over Daria, looks at the article.)

DARIA:  That kitchen would never pass muster with the health inspector.
Not unless his standards are depressingly low.

ANDREA:  Maybe they cleaned up before the inspector could come.  (Bt)
Or they bribed him.

DANNY:  I was thinking bribe, myself.

LOU:  Me, too.

DARIA:  Whatever it was, nothing will get done until someone gets
very, very sick.  (cocks a weary eyelid.)  It *was* nice to think for
one-tenth of a second that something I wrote could make a difference.

(Andrea looks unusually compassionate, as do some of the other staffers.)

VINCE: (trace of sympathy in his deadpan)  You did your best, and people
read what you had to say.  Now it's up to them to decide if what you
wrote was the truth.

DARIA: (trying to take comfort)  I guess.

DAMIEN: (coming over, reassuring)  Anyway, this happens a lot.  We write
what we see, the people we criticize brush us off, they're in the clear.

ANDREA: (with distaste)  Happened when I wrote about the tainted water in
Oakwood's drinking fountains.  Took the *football* players getting poisoned
before anyone took the charges seriously.

DAMIEN:  And when they realize they've been beaten, they try and figure out
who we are.

DARIA: (disquieted)  Has anyone come close to succeeding?

DAMIEN:  No.

VINCE: (cryptic)  We haven't given them enough ammo *to* succeed.

DANNY: (angry)  Yeah, and I'm getting kind of sick of it.  (People look at
him.)  More people are reading what we say, but it's *still* like we're
invisible.

ANDREA:  Isn't that the point?

VINCE: (chilling tone)  We're not *in* this to get attention.  We're in it
to provide an alternate voice.

DANNY: (annoyed)  Well *duh*, Vince.

VINCE:  You'd better think real hard about what kind of attention we could
get.

DAMIEN: (intervening)  Guys, guys -- trust me.  We can make people take
us seriously *and* not get caught.  I'll make sure of it.

VINCE: (sarcastic)  Aren't we confident.

(There's a meaning in his look that only Damien understands, and he flinches
minutely before turning to Daria.)

DAMIEN:  But right now, let's get off of the subject: it's making Daria
nervous.

DARIA: (a little pale)  Oh no, I'm not -

DAMIEN:  How'd you like it if we took you out to get your mind off of things?
(smirks.)  We overworked staffers *do* like to have fun now and then.

VINCE: (frowning)  She doesn't *need* us to hold her hand, Dam.  She just
had a setback.  It's, like, normal.

OTHER STAFFERS:  Aw c'mon!/Don't be such a wet blanket, Vince!

DARIA: (mildly worried)  Does this "fun" involve some form of mild torture for
your newest member?

DAMIEN: (making Ix-nay gestures)  Nope.  None of that.  No getting stoned, no
drinking, no humiliation.

(Daria pauses to think before sighing in a conceding manner.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 7 (In Scarsborough, several miles away, early nightfall.)

(Close-up of Daria's face.)

DARIA:  Oh the humiliation.

(Cut to wide shot.  She's standing next to Damien, holding a putter and
watching as her ball ricochets off of a plastic pink elephant's foot and
fails to go through the tunnel that leads to the rest of the course.)

DAMIEN:  Whoo-hoo!  That now puts me *twenty* strokes ahead.  (does a fist
pump.)

(Cut to wider shot showing the other staffers with putts, or else sitting on
the bench, eating junk food.  Vince is noticeably absent.  The sign overhead
reads Big Harvey's Miniature Golf, and in the background we see a large
castle,
a green dinosaur, etc.)

DARIA:  I think that elephant stuck its foot out on purpose.  (Bt)  Either
that, or it's the cheese fries.  The fat and cholesterol are affecting my
blood flow.

DANNY: (hopeful)  So could I have the rest of them?

DARIA:  Over my dead, artery-clogged body.

ANDREA: (looking at the dinosaur)  You think I should get that for a tatoo?

DARIA:  Why not?  Nothing says "menacing" like a dinosaur shaped like a
giant inflatable pool toy.

(Andrea scowls mildly: "Good point," and pulls out a cigarette.  Daria smirks
at her.)

DAMIEN: (to Andrea, preparing to take his turn)  Aren't you gonna finish
telling us about your latest crisis?

ANDREA: (unfazed)  Oh, right.  So anyway, since Mom's relapse, she and
my ultra religious stepfather have been at each other's throats.  She keeps
telling him she won't go back to A.A., then to prove that she's got, like, a
shred of parenting skills, she gets on my case about getting a job so I can
clean up my act.  (disdain.)  Like she has the right.

DAMIEN: (brow raised)  Geez, even after the disaster with Pay Day?

ANDREA:  Yeah.  Go figure.  (to Damien)  'Kay, your turn.  Enlighten Daria.

DAMIEN:  Lessee... (to Daria)  my parents have been split up for about three
years.  I used to live with my mother, but we developed some bad blood
between us, so I went to live with my dad, who's only interested in one thing:
when am I gonna go to college or find a *real* job?  He seems to think all I
do is play video games, or something.

DARIA: (out of curiosity)  Have you ever looked for a job?

DAMIEN: (making a face)  I interned at the Peach Tree Gazette a couple years
ago, but I could only take so much of their dictating.  "Your article must
be X amount of length and Y amount of sentences, and if we don't like it,
we'll gut it."  (looks at Daria.)  Don't get me wrong: I plan to be a
professional someday, but right now it's just nice to feel like I have
control over my own work, you know what I'm saying?

DARIA: (nodding slowly)  Yeah.  (Bt)  But maybe --

DAMIEN:  All right, now it's *your* turn.  (hits his ball into the hole,
smiles
at Daria.)

DARIA:  To putt?

DAMIEN:  Yeah.  But also to tell your story.  I mean, if you'd feel
comfortable.

(Daria blushes a little, sets up her ball again.)

DARIA:  Sure.  I guess.  (She glances at the members of her group, a little
hesitant to trust them enough to dish out her personal details the way they
seem
so comfortable doing.  Finally she sighs a small "Give 'em the benefit of the
doubt" sigh.)  You'll probably just think it's boring.  My parents are
actually
together... and during odd moments of inspiration, they even manage to
parent.

(This gets nods from Damien, Andrea, Danny, etc.  Daria's face takes on a
vaguely pained expression.)  Although lately neither seems to be much
in the mood to do that.

DANNY:  Midlife crisis?  Possible affair?

DARIA: (a little unnerved by his bluntness)  Um, I doubt it's that big a
deal.
(face falls a tad.  softer.)  At least I hope it's not.  (musters a wry
tone.)
Maybe I could use my reporting skills to figure out where my dad *really* goes
at night.

ANDREA:  If you can handle what you find.

(Daria looks annoyed when she hears this, but then her shoulders slump with
concession.)

DAMIEN: (softly)  Besides, I doubt it would help.

DANNY: (with a pained expression, as though he's tried the same thing)  Yeah.

(Daria's expression tells us she takes comfort in people understanding her
problems.  At the same time, she finds it alarming that they *would*
understand,
given their seemingly darker backgrounds.)

DARIA: (gazing down at her putter)  That could be why I haven't tried.  (Bt)
I might confide in my sister if she and I were on speaking terms.  But
she's so
obsessed with becoming a star mathematician, she thinks everything I say is
an attempt to undermine her concentration.  And what with my suspicions of her
math teacher, she's probably right.

ANDREA:  Which one?  (Bt)  Mr. Phelps?

(Daria nods.  Andrea and Danny get sour looks, indicating their familiarity
with Phelps's priggish reputation.  Damien's expression becomes difficult to
read.)

DAMIEN: (thoughtfully)  Yeah.  Authority figures can jerk you around and
never get caught -- especially teachers.  And while you can't stop what's
happening to your parents, maybe there are some things you *can* stop.

DARIA:  I'll believe that when it happens.  (As she says this, she hits her
ball without hardly looking at it.)

DAMIEN: (looking off screen)  Hey!  It finally made it through!

(cut to: )

SCENE 8 (Morgendorffer residence, midnight)

(Shot of the darkened outside.  A car, presumably Damien's, drives up to
the curb and Daria gets out.  Cut to shot of the interior.  Daria unlocks
the door and walks inside, looking a little surprised by the total silence
around her.  In spite of her parents' neglectful natures, she would have
expected one of them to be there, ready to go ballistic about her coming
home late without calling.  Disheartened, she walks toward the stairs.
Then something clicks inside her.  She pauses, her expression hardening
into a "Screw this: I don't care anymore" shape, before she continues
upstairs.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 9 (LHS, several days later)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Daria standing next to O'Neill's desk,
her shoulders scrunched up and expression dour, more so than we can recall
seeing it.)

O'NEILL: (almost-crushed expression)  You've given up on tutoring?  Oh *my*...
(tries to console himself.)  But I understand if something unexpected has come
up that requires your attention.

DARIA:  Good for you.

O'NEILL:  Um... (looks at her carefully, tries to get through to her in a way
that would not cause her to back off.)  Is there anything you might like to
discuss?

DARIA: (backing off)  Not particularly.

(Cut to shot of Jane standing outside the door, unnoticed, as the conversation
continues with the sound muffled.  She watches Daria with concern.)

(Fade-out.  Fade-in to shot of Jane and Daria walking home a short time
later.
Although they're in mid-conversation, one gets the sense there's tension
between them.  Daria still looks gloomy and irritable.)

DARIA:  ...So we're in the bathroom, not talking as usual, when all of a
sudden
Quinn starts explaining why she's been so pissed off at me.  (scrunches her
nose, imitation.)  Apparently I've been a "jerk.  Not, like, a super big
jerk, but a jerk."

JANE:  Wow.  She spoke to you voluntarily?  Why?

DARIA: (face darkening)  Probably just to chew me out like that.  Quite
ironic, considering I've barely been home these past few weeks.

JANE:  Maybe it was just her clumsy, immature way of breaking the ice.
We both know humility's *not* your sister's forte.

DARIA:  Which is exactly why I've given up hoping for an olive branch
from her.  (frowns.)  I said: "You feel that whenever I talk I sound like
a jerk?  *Fine*.  Then I promise not to talk to you ever again."  And
I left.

JANE:  Did she come after you?

DARIA:  She followed me to my room, but before she could come in, I closed
the door on her.  (lips curl slightly.)  Let her see how *she* likes it.

(Jane cringes involuntarily at Daria's withering tone of voice.)

JANE:  My, so forceful.  So final.

DARIA: (grim)  It's something I should have done weeks ago.  Instead,
like an idiot, I let her jerk my chain around.  Well no more.

JANE:  Yeah.  (smirks sarcastically.)  And if you're *really* lucky, when
she does find that olive branch, she'll be too intimidated to offer it
to you.

DARIA:  Do I detect a hidden meaning in that statement?

JANE:  There's no meaning.  It's just, well... (awkward.) you might have
handled things less aggressively a few weeks ago.

DARIA:  Precisely.  What's your point?

JANE:  So... something happened between now and then to *make* you more
aggressive.

(Beat)

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid)  And that something would be the underground
paper, I presume?  (Jane pauses, then nods.)  I knew there was a reason you
wanted to walk home with me.

JANE:  "Reason"?  (irritated.)  For God's sake, Daria, we've always
walked home together, and now I practically have to *beg* you 'cause
you're so busy.

(Beat)

DARIA:  Hmmm.  (Bt)  So I'm guessing from your tone that you're less
than thrilled that I'm still on staff?

JANE:  It's not a jealousy thing, believe me.  If you spent 24/7 on
something that made you feel better about your life, like that you could be
there for your family without having to solve their problems, I'd say more
power to you.

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid)  Whereas the underground paper fulfills none of
those goals.  Correct?

JANE:  Let's just say you seem extra bitter lately.  Not just about
Quinn, who may well have deserved what you gave her, but about everything.
It's like you'd bite the head off of the world if you could just wrap
your teeth around its neck.

DARIA:  There's a lovely image.

JANE:  And for an explanation, I go to the most obvious source.  (At
this, Daria cocks an eyelid, but allows Jane to continue.)  I took a
closer look at the articles in the more recent issues, and they are
*cynical*.  I mean darker-than-you-and-I cynical.  Some of them read like
thinly-veiled cries for help.

DARIA:  And?

JANE:  Do you really think these are the best people to hang out with
when you're *already* in a blue mood?

DARIA:  Believe it or not, I do.  And what's more, I don't even think
they're too cynical; they're just more realistic because working on
the underground has exposed them to corruption most people don't even
want to think about.  (cheeks redden.)  I'm shocked to hear you criticize,
given how you hated being labeled a "dangerously disturbed teen" during
the school election.

JANE: (wincing at the memory)  True.  But the bottom line is that *if*
these guys *do* spout an inordinate amount of negative verbiage, I hope
you won't take everything they say to heart.  (Bt)  I mean it was kind
of nice to see you grow more optimistic after spending time with
Jodie and the others on "Class Land" --

(This comment briefly throws Daria out of rhythm.  She frowns at its
implications.)

DARIA:  What are you saying?  That people like Jodie are a better
influence on me than Vince, Damien, and Andrea?  That I'd better hang
out with her, or risk emotional meltdown?

JANE: (face reddening)  That's *not* what I'm saying.  Not *exactly*...

DARIA: (cool)  So not only do you not trust my group, you don't trust me.
Gee, which of us is *really* the one that's changed, here?

JANE:  What do you mean??

DARIA:  There used to be a time when you were as much on the outside as
the guys on staff.  And now you're belittling them.

JANE: (rolling her eyes)  What, I'm some kind of *non*-outcast because
I don't agree with every single frickin' thing your friends on staff
believe??  Didn't you *just* bring up the crap I went through during the
election?

DARIA:  Yes.  Though I can't help but think that something happened between
now and then to dilute its effect.

JANE:  Like what?  (Pause)  Tom?  (Daria cocks an eyelid.)  Dating *Tom*
has made me forget my outcast roots, is that what you're saying??
(sarcastic chuckle.)  How the hell could you think that?

DARIA:  Hmmm... wealthy guy, preppy clothing, prestigious school,
mainstream outlook.  Yes, I do not know how I could have reached that
conclusion.

JANE:  You know that's crazy.

DARIA:  I don't know, actually.

(Beat)

JANE:  Tell me we're not having this conversation.

DARIA:  You're the one who started it.

(Pause.  Jane just groans and shakes her head.  Daria remains stoic, yet
visibly angry that her friend has challenged her judgment.)

JANE: (smirking, irritated)  Okay, *fine* Daria, fine.  You know what?
Forget what I said: be cynical.  Be as freakin' cynical as you want.  Don't
give a damn about anything or anybody.  And if you want to believe I've been
duped by Tom's vanilla-flavored pragmatism, you just go right ahead.  Blame a
friend for caring.

(She breaks away and starts walking.  Daria's face saddens a little, as she
wishes the conversation wouldn't end this way.)

DARIA: (a little louder)  I know you care.  But I also know I can take care
of myself.

(Jane stops briefly to look over her shoulder.)

JANE:  I hope so, Daria.



****************
END OF ACT TWO

[Shot of Daria walking down the basement stairs with Damien and Vince,
followed by shot of Daria sweeping the floor of the Pizza King, followed
by shot of Daria, Jane, and Jodie, followed by shot of Daria and the
members of the underground playing miniature golf.]

***You are now entering commercial *HELL*.  Please keep your
seatbelt securely fastened.  You are about to see some of the
lamest commercials put on television.***

1) "SURVIVOR: WHERE ARE THEY NOW?"  Watch the special that shows
how the cast of the first "SURVIVOR" tried unsuccessfully to *mug*
their way to stardom!  You've got to *see* it to believe!

2) You've watched the show, now *experience* it for yourself!  It's
the DO-IT-YOURSELF "SURVIVOR" KIT!  Includes tips on how to construct
difficult, painful obstacle courses, how to survive for 40 days on
one razor, and how to screw your friends over when they *least* suspect
it!  So when you and your buddies have nothing to do on a Saturday
afternoon, try having fun the "SURVIVOR" way!  Rice, rats, and bug-infested
figs sold separately.

3) It's Blistex lip balm for chapped lips.  See how it glides on smooth
as silk?  And who's that trying it out?  Why it's Colleen from "SURVIVOR"!
Good heavens, *another* "SURVIVOR" promo?  Are they afraid that the
viewers will forget for one minute that "SURVIVOR" exists??

***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you
survived?***


ACT THREE

SCENE 1 (Daria's room, evening)

(Shot of the outside.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Where the hell does she get off??

(Music: "Yesterday")

(Cut to shot of Daria sitting on her bed, slumped against the wall.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  What gives her the gall to tell me how to act and
who I should hang out with??  I thought she understood me.  (She hops
up and walks over to her desk, where her journal sits.)  If anything,
you'd think she'd feel more at home with the staff than I do -- her home
life is more twisted than mine.  The old Jane would have felt comfortable.

(She sits down, grabs a nearby pencil, and presses it hard against the open
pages as she writes.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Until now, I didn't even realize there *was* an "old"
Jane.  But the more I think about it, the more it's clear she's no longer
the loner who took a self-esteem class *six* times.  (Pause)  But then who
*is* she?  (disquieted.)  And do she and I fit together as well as we used to?

(Dissolve to shot of Daria standing at her window.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  One thing I'll say for sure: she acts like my
*mother*.  Telling me I should reach out and be part of the more positive
mainstream.  (brief, sour expression.)  Once it didn't seem like such a
bad idea, because the popular people weren't such jerks, and my mom put
down her cell phone more often to listen.  Even Quinn seemed more
accessible.

(She turns and walks back to the bed slowly.)

DARIA: (thought VO, face darkening)  But I didn't realize bonds forged
during more idealistic times could change with circumstances.  That people
you once though you could count on suddenly *wouldn't* be there for you...
if they ever could be in the first place.

(She sinks down onto the bed.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  My mom told me to become part of the social norm, and
now *she's* the one who's closed herself off.  At least *I've* found people
I can feel comfortable with.  (frowns.)  So who is she to dictate with whom
I should or should not hang out?  Or Jane, for that matter??  (crosses her
arms, defiant.)  Neither seems to trust that I have enough working brain
cells to make my own decisions.

(fade-out.  fade-in to: )

SCENE 2 (montage, indicating several days/weeks)

DARIA: (VO)  After our argument, it wasn't like Jane and I worked to keep up a
wall of silence...

(Cut to shot of Jane and Daria in class.  They look friendly, but distant.)

DARIA: (VO)  ...we just didn't have much to say.  I knew she was still
concerned, and she knew why I resented her concern.  Unable to bridge our
divide, we've sort of drifted apart...

(Cut to outside shot of the Morgendorffer residence.  Cut to wide interior
shot of the living room and kitchen.  In the foreground on the center couch,
Daria sits with her head bent over, writing.  In the background, Quinn is
pouring over equations.  A palpable, stony silence hangs between them.)

DARIA: (VO)  The same could be said with my family.

(Helen drifts into the living room, in the direction of the kitchen.
Looking gloomy and a little unfocused, she gazes in Daria's direction.
Daria is so absorbed in her writing, she doesn't even notice.  Quinn,
however, watches Helen stealthily as she fumbles around for something in
the refrigerator.  Quinn's face puckers with what could only be concern,
and she glances in Daria's direction as if hoping for guidance.  Cut to
close-up of Daria, still writing furiously.)

DARIA: (VO)  I've been too busy to care about my parents' marriage problems
or Quinn cold-shouldering me.

(Cut to close-up of Quinn.  She returns her attention to her work, leaning
over and scribbling furiously with her pencil.)

DARIA: (VO)  When I think about them at all, it's to acknowledge what a big
hypocrite I've been toward my sister.  Like me, she got deeply involved with
something that was a major break from her past activities.  Because I didn't
understand what this "something" involved, I was quick to assume it was
wrong.
(Cut to shot of Daria, laying down her pen in thought.)  For that, I'm sorry.

(Music: "Yellow Submarine")

(Cut to close-up shot of Damien's printer, spitting out pages of the latest
issue.  Cut to shot of Daria helping the other staffers put the paper
together.)

DARIA: (VO)  Meanwhile, in spite of my setback with the Pizza King article, I
keep fighting the good fight on the underground paper.

(Cut to shot of Daria standing in front of the Lawndale Public Library,
scribbling notes on a pad.)

DARIA: (VO)  Seeing other people read my work gave me a rush that I
never anticipated.  With the other staffers' encouragement, I've undertaken
articles that address important problems your average Joe could care
less about.  (Cut to shot of Daria glancing at half-filled shelves of battered
books inside the library.  She stealthily takes some photos.)  That produce
no noticeable reform.

(Cut to shot of a library shelf, weeks later.  A mouse scurries across the
top, causing the entire shelf to creak, then collapse under its weight.)

DARIA: (VO)  It still feels strange to be part of an actual "club".  To
me, clubs have always gone hand-in-hand with mind-numbing conformity -- like
the *Fashion* Club.  But the longer I stay with the underground, the more I
realize that isn't the case.

(Cut to shot of Andrea in the midst of drawing and intricate cartoon, then
to shot of Danny skillfully shooting up bad guys in a computer game, then
to shot of Jeremy, in the far corner, strumming on a guitar.)

DARIA: (VO)  The staffers are like a band of individuals who came together
to form a safe haven from the harsh outer world.  They don't always agree,
with me *or* each other, but they respect everyone in the group.

(Cut to shot of Damien standing up and addressing the group at a meeting.)

DAMIEN: (mid-lecture)  'Cause if we don't, we might as well be like *them*.
(He waves his hand at the basement door, indicating members of "mainstream"
society.)  And who the hell wants that??

DARIA: (VO)  I know where I stand with them.  There's no sinking feeling
in the pit of my stomach that I can't reach them, or that our relationship
could veer, suddenly and inexplicably, out of control.

(Cut to previous scene of Andrea, Danny, and Lou, but this time include
Daria, sitting and observing in the foreground, her back to us.)

DARIA: (VO)  The staffers are surprisingly open.  While in regular society
they may shy from human contact, in the shelter afforded by the paper's
anonymity, they can be who they want to be, and I've learned a lot from
them.

(Cut to shot of Daria scanning in photos and enlarging/enhancing them on
the computer.)

DARIA: (VO)  A *lot* from them.

(Cut to shot of her hitting a ball at the miniature golf course and
watching, stunned, as it rolls so perfectly it comes within a hair of
making a hole-in-one.  Damien claps in the background.)

(Cut to shot of Daria sitting with Andrea on the ledge above the computers,
flipping through her sketchpad with a scarcely-concealed wonder.  Andrea
seems pleased by her reaction.)

DARIA: (VO)  So much, in fact, that I sometimes had to ask:

DARIA: (looking up)  Have you ever thought of sending your work to
someone?

ANDREA: (puzzled)  Haven't we had this conversation before?

DARIA:  Yes.  (She recalls her visit to Andrea's house in "Andrea Speaks!")
But since then, you've had your work printed in the paper for everyone to
see.  And no one's called it "crap," or anything.

ANDREA: (almost smiling, dismissive)  Those are just high school kids.
It'd take a lot more to get me to send to a publication.  (Bt)  It took
a lot just to get where I am now.  And this sounds crazy, but I'm okay with
where I am.  Happy, even.

DARIA: (faint smirk)  You mad hatter, you.

ANDREA:  I'm with people I like, who like me.  Even if I become famous, I
might never get that again.  Why leave the boat unless its sinking?  (Daria
nods with understanding.)  The other staffers and me, we're not like you.

DARIA: (taken aback)  What?  A "conformist"?

ANDREA: (trace of wistfulness)  Confident.

(Cut to shots depicting moments of relaxation: Daria playing against Danny
on the shoot 'em up computer game while the others look on and route
good-naturedly; the staffers sitting in Pizza Forrest, mocking the animal
waiters; the staffers watching a DVD.)

DARIA: (VO)  So yes, when all's said and done, we're a pretty tight group.

(Cut to shot of Vince, trying to write as other staffers watch the DVD,
looking irritated.)

DARIA: (VO)  Yet there seem to be a few notes of disharmony these days.  (Bt)
Vince has been acting more alienated.  He talks to me even less than he did
after my first meeting... which is unfortunate, given that it was he who drew
me to newspaper writing in the first place.

(Cut to shot of Daria looking up one time to find Vince standing nearby.)

DARIA: (VO)  Even so, I feel him watching me sometimes. I get this strange
feeling that he's disappointed.

(Cut to shot of the newspaper staffers in a meeting.  Vince sits in a far
corner, looking very ticked-off and fidgety while Damien talks animatedly
to the staffers.)

DARIA: (VO)  Part of his alienation could undoubtedly be traced to the changes
Damien wants in the newspaper.

(Cut to close-up of Daria, a skeptical eyelid raised.  Next to her, on the
couch, Andrea is expressionless, while Danny and Lou look pumped up.  Cut to
shot of Damien, looking excited, making sweeping gestures with his hands as
he talks.)

DAMIEN:  I *know* taking the paper to a printer poses some risk to our
anonymity, but I honestly think switching to newsprint would be the best
way to go.  Then we'd look like a *real* newspaper, and more people would
take us seriously.

(Pan over of the group reveals some concerned, but not opposed, expressions.)

DARIA: (VO)  At the meetings, he's been urging people to take on riskier
stories.  Not just take *necessary* risks to get important stories, which is
what we've been doing, but do stories that have... questionable merit.  (Cut
to close-up of Daria, looking more doubtful than before.)  But then maybe
I'm just letting what Jane and Jodie said color my judgment too much.
Damien's provided justification for these stories that's difficult to
argue with.  And other staffers seem to think they're okay.

(Cut to shot of Daria watching silently in the background while Danny and
Lou talk excitedly and jot down notes.)

DARIA: (VO)  But still...  (Cut to shot of her walking home, looking
reflective.)  This dilemma has forced me to consider something I haven't
wanted to think about.  Much as anonymity has provided me with the freedom
to expand my creative and personal range; much as it's allowed the other
staffers to grow as individuals, it's also a potential source of corruption.

(cut to: )

SCENE 3 (LHS, afternoon)

(Cut to shot of students eagerly picking up extra copies of the paper that lie
around the quad.  We notice that the issues are now in newsprint.)

(Cut to shot of the inside.  Cut to close-up of Vince, slouched against one of
the lockers, reading the paper.  A dark look on his face, he crumples it
into a
ball and dumps it in the nearest wastebin.  Sweeping pan over to Daria, who's
walking to class, wearing a vaguely stunned expression as she surveys the
number
of people reading the papers: the most we've seen up to this date.  Cut to
close-up of Larry, the moronic Lowdown staffer, looking at an issue and
scowling.)

LARRY: (mumbling, cursing)  Gah damn *stupid*... now *we're* gonna have to
pour on the slime to show 'em who's boss...!

(Cut to shot of Daria walking.  She smirks to herself as she overhears these
grumblings, then pauses when something he said doesn't sit quite right.  At
her locker, she overhears some other people talking about the paper.)

GUY:  Hmm, half of Lowman's goods come from sweatshop labor?  I didn't know
that.

(Daria perks up: he's just cited one of her articles.  She inches a little
closer to hear better.)

GIRL: (distaste)  Isn't that, like, where they make kids in other countries
work long hours for next to no pay?

GUY:  Yeah, I think.  (shakes his head.)  Geez, none of the regular papers
care enough to report stuff like this.

(Daria's eyes widen slightly at the praise.  But after a moment, the pleasure
fades from her cheeks, as she realizes neither person will ever know *she*
wrote the article.  She opens her locker to collect her books, a little
dejected.  Just then we see Jane come up to her.)

JANE: (amiable)  Looks like you hit another homer, huh?

DARIA:  Umm, yeah...

(Jane notices that something's bothering her, but before she can say any more,
we hear Ms. Li's angry voice off screen.)

MS. LI:  This is the final strawwwwwww.  (She appears grasping an edition of
the paper and shaking it.)  If it weren't for their cockamamie First Amendment
rights, I'd've nailed those little punks to the *wall* by now.  Just waaaaait
until they make a wrong turn.  (She laughs wickedly, then leaves.)

JANE: (murmuring)  Planning to run into them with your broomstick and sue for
liability?  (sees Daria's worried expression, changes the subject.)  Hey
Daria:
maybe you won't care about what I have to tell you, but Tom dug up some
interesting stuff on Phelps that you might want to take a look at.

DARIA:  Really?  (Bt)  I'm kind of busy...

JANE:  Just give it some thought.

(Cut to shot of Daria walking to class a short time later, reflecting on what
Jane said.  She passes some students with the paper, and by their words, it's
clear they're talking about her article.)

GUY #2:  ... yeah it's good, but the author made a major mistake.  I used to
work for Lowman's, and it stopped selling sweatshop goods over a year ago
when it got new ownership.

(Cut to close-up of Daria.  She stops in her tracks, a stunned expression
on her face.)

GUY #2:  If people take this seriously enough, the new owner could take
heat and lose a lot of money -- 'specially since Lowman's is supposed to be
known for its fairness toward employees.  I bet he'll *love* to have a word
with the author.

(Daria's expression turns from stunned to grim when she hears this.)

(Fade-out.  Fade-in to shot of Daria pouring through a huge stack of
information
on Lowman's Sporting Goods.  She spies something she missed the first time
around.  Reads through it slowly.)

DARIA: (mortified)  He was right.

(cut to: )

SCENE 4 (Damien's basement, the next meeting)

(Shot of Daria walking down the sidewalk, toward the house, still looking
grim.)

DARIA:  (thought VO)  Oh God, I messed up.  Now what??  (Bt., defiant)
Wait: why should I be upset?  My mistake didn't alter the central point of the
article, which was that Lowman's, like so many other Lawndale businesses,
cheats the customer in every possible way.  So what if my mistake could be
damaging?  So what if, as an underground staffer, I'm supposed to hold myself
to the highest standard possible?  The paper's never spurred anyone to action
anyway.  (Still, she looks uncomfortable.)

(Cut to shot of her sitting on the couch, wearing the same expression.  Andrea
looks at her questioningly, but doesn't say anything.  They're discussing new
ideas.)

DAMIEN: (off screen)  Penny for your thoughts, Daria.

(Daria looks up at him -- pan over to show him sitting in a chair across from
her.  Cut to wide shot.)

DARIA:  Nothing -- just the article again.

DAMIEN: (sympathy)  Hey don't worry: even big league news writers make
mistakes.
You're not the first on this staff.

DARIA:  I'm going to print a correction notice in the next issue.

DAMIEN:  Yeah, sure.  Do whatever you feel is best.

(Daria smirks faintly and nods, but she's a little put off by Damien's no-big-
deal tone.  She can't tell whether it's a sign that he trusts her to choose
her
own method of correction, or that he doesn't care whether or not she corrects
her mistake.  Before she can inquire any further:)

DANNY: (bursting in, eager)  Hey Dam: today's the day we were gonna tell
everyone about the project, right?

(People's ears peak with interest, including Daria's.  Damien gets a pleased
expression and immediately sits up straighter.)

DAMIEN:  Yes, definitely.  Come with me, you guys.

(He claps his hands together, hops up out of his chair, then motions at
everyone
to follow him to the computer.  As they do so, Daria glances around.)

DARIA: (to Andrea)  Where's Vince?

ANDREA: (shrugging)  Don't know.  (looks a little puzzled herself.)  Don't
think
he's ever missed a meeting before.

DAMIEN: (overhearing, with genuine regret)  Vince quit the paper.

(Several startled looks.)

DANNY:  Man, Vince was one of the first people on staff.

LOU:  It was gonna happen sooner or later.  He just wasn't fitting in with
us.
He never wanted to be a part of things.

SARA:  Yeah.  Hanging out with him was like hanging out with my dad.

DANNY:  It was just as well he got lost.  He would've ruined everything anyway.

(Daria cocks an eyelid, startled by the harshness of words.  Suddenly Damien
silences them with a rare glare.)

DAMIEN:  Vince was a *good* newspaper man.  A great writer, a great copy
editor,
and one of the first people on staff.  Just because he was quiet doesn't
mean he
wasn't one of us.  We're a team and we have to respect each other.  (Bt)  I'm
sorry to see him go.

(The other staffers glance at each other, then at Damien, and nod quietly and
with obvious respect.  Daria smiles a little smile of gratitude: in spite of
her mixed feelings about Vince, she still remembers their tutoring session
and the note he left in her locker.)

DARIA: (to Damien)  Did he say why he left?

DAMIEN: (shaking his head)  Vince doesn't give explanations to people.  (turns
to face the computer screen, wiggles the mouse to take it out of screen
saver.
voice takes on an eager tone again.)  Here's what Danny was talking about.

(Everyone's eyes probe the screen.  Daria frowns mildly, trying to figure out
what exactly it is.  Cut to her POV: the screen shows a photo of DeMartino,
in all of his usual eye-bulging anger.  Beside the photo is a blurb that we
have trouble reading.  Damien scrolls down slowly, revealing more of the
blurb.)

DARIA: (thought VO, reading)  "Divorced... twenty-two parking tickets... one
brief visit to the mental hospital..."  What is this: the Teachers' Hall of
Fame?

DAMIEN: (explaining)  I first got the idea several months ago: we do so many
stories on teachers or public officials that require us to dig into their
history, why not find a way to save time?  It's a database containing the
faculty of Lawndale, Oakwood, and Cumberland, not to mention the
superintendent,
the mayor... (scrolls down a little to show.)  We've still got more to add,
but
you get the idea.

SARA: (awed)  I didn't know this stuff.  How did you *get* this?

DAMIEN: (reassuring)  Through legal methods: public records, Internet search
engines, newspaper clippings --

DANNY:  Reading their diaries, pawing through their garbage at night.  (starts
chuckling, than catches an eye from Damien.)  Kidding, *kidding*.

LOU: (reading)  Geez... I didn't know Mr. DeMartino's middle name is Fredo.
Fredo!  (He starts laughing, and is soon joined by others.)  Man, the next
time he yells at me, maybe I should say, "Why am *I* a loser?  Fredo's not
*my* middle name!"  (chuckles harder.)

SARA:  We could drive the teachers crazy.

DANNY:  Ohhhhh yeah.

(Daria watches them, feeling prickles of irritation.)

ANDREA:  What if they ask you where you got your sources?

LOU:  These are public records; we could've found out from anywhere.  Right
Dam?  (Damien nods, though there's a nanosecond pause.)

LIZ:  You could always leak it through a rumor.

DARIA:  Spreading rumors: *there's* a great way for us to abuse our role as
journalists.

(Her acerbic words cut through the other staffers' fun like a knife.  An
uncomfortable silence follows.)

DAMIEN:  She brings up a good point: this info should be for news purposes,
*not* for gossip.

LOU: (chastened)  We were just kidding around, anyway.

DAMIEN:  Do you have any other concerns about the database, Daria?

DARIA: (embarrassed)  Um, not really.  Just... why is this information mostly
negative?

DAMIEN: (shrugging, nonchalant)  The luck of the draw, I guess.

DANNY:  It's because most teachers are *screw-ups*.  Are we surprised??  (He
starts chuckling, and is joined by others.)

DARIA:  Is it right for us to keep such personal information?

DAMIEN:  No one likes having their info out in public, Daria, but the truth
is it's there and people have access to it.  Look at the bios on celebrities
or politicians.  Look at the dummies who go on "reality" TV and let their
private parts hang out.  Could we be any harder on them than they are on
themselves?

DARIA:  But teachers and public officials *aren't* media celebrities.

DANNY:  No, but they've still got power.  (a shadow falls over his face.)

DAMIEN:  He's got a point.

DARIA:  So you're saying that while the sole purpose of this database is
to provide simple background info for an article, you're not above using
it in a story that calls a powerful person's credibility into question.

DANNY: (a tad defensive)  Why not, if it *should* be called into question?
Why *shouldn't* people know the truth??

DARIA:  It would definitely give our paper the publicity you wanted.

DANNY: (stubborn)  So maybe it would.  So what??

DARIA:  Nothing.  If we act responsibly, use additional sources, write the
article only after the person's been accused of wrongdoing instead of trying
to make news --

LOU: (incredulous)  You're saying we'd use this to *make* news??

DARIA:  No, but it's a trap we'd have to stay out of --

DANNY:  What makes you so sure we'd even come near this trap?

DARIA: (feels herself blushing)  I'm not, but still --

JEREMY: (quiet)  You wouldn't mention it if you didn't have a reason.

DANNY: (frustrated)  So when exactly did we lose your faith, Daria??

(Daria suddenly finds herself looking from one disappointed face to the next.
Meanwhile Damien sits back and watches, expressionless.)

DARIA: (guilty, but persevering)  You guys are nice; we all are.  But that
doesn't mean one of us might not use the database for poorly conceived or
downright ill purposes.

DANNY: (closes his eyes)  I knew it.

SARA: (disappointed)  Why do you keep worrying about how *we* could hurt
*them*?  What did they do that was so great?  And what have we ever done to
hurt you??

LOU:  Yeah, come on.  We're on *your* side.

DARIA: (more frustrated)  I'm not switching sides.  But admit it: we've each
been wronged more than the average teenager.  The temptation to get even is
right *there*.  And if we use the information carelessly, people like Ms. Li,
who've been held back by the First Amendment, would have the excuse for an all-
out assault.  Is that what we want??

LIZ: (nervous)  That wouldn't happen.  Would it??

DANNY: (cold)  Considering that screw-up in your last article, maybe you
should
just worry about how *your* writing could get us in trouble.

DARIA: (frowning)  *Hey* --

ANDREA: (expressionless)  Lay off, you guys.  (Everyone turns to look at her,
as if surprised she, and not Damien, is the one speaking.)  Just chill out.

(Danny looks like he's about to protest, but Damien motions with his hand for
everyone to look his way.)

DAMIEN: (calm)  The database is risky, true.  But its rewards could be great.
And we need to trust that we'd know how to use it to its fullest potential.
(looks in Daria's direction, seems to place a certain emphasis on his words.)
Remember, we're not *like* everyone else; we hold ourselves up to a higher
standard.  *We* stick together: we work together, have fun together.  We have
no reason *not* to trust each other.

(In an almost involuntary gesture, he scrolls down to a section of the
database.  Cut to shot of Daria.  She's still concerned, but is now growing
remorseful: maybe she *was* overreacting.  Suddenly her eyes widen when she
sees what's on the computer screen.  Cut to close-up: we see a photo of
slightly younger-looking Phelps, besides which some writing we can't make out.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 5 (after the meeting)

(Cut to shot of Daria walking home in the dim light, frowning and looking
deep in thought.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  God they were upset with you.  Wouldn't *you* be if your
integrity were called into question?  (Pause)  But still, seeing the way they
were reacting to the database just gave me an awful feeling.  That, in
addition
to the stuff Damien's been doing lately... makes me feel... (frowns hard.)
like we could be headed for disaster.

(Her pace slows as she gets a look of utter dread on her face.)

DARIA:  And if you found out someone in your group *did* commit such an abuse,
how would you handle it?  (disquieted.)  After all, what makes them so much
more
immune to temptation than other people?  (She shakes her head, then gets a
defiant expression.)  Because they *aren't* other people.  They're more
determined, more honest, more tightly-knit, and if it weren't for them, you
wouldn't have had the courage to expand yourself nearly as much as you have.
So *what* if they release a sensational article now and then??  They're still
far better than most mainstream papers...

(Dissolve to shot of Daria lying on her bed, later that night.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  But still, how do you know?  (disquieted.)  And what
would you do if you *did* know?  If only there was a way to find out without --
(Again she gets a deeply worried expression, rolls onto her side.)  And how
the hell will this affect the info you got about Phelps??

(Cut to earlier shot of Daria looking at his photo, a short time after
the meeting has dispersed.  Cut to close-up of the bio info alongside
it.  Scroll down to show each line: Alfred James Phelps/Born October 7, 1944
in Witney, Oxfordshire, UK/Unmarried/Degree in Mathmatics at Cambridge,
Economics at Stanford/Immigrated to the U.S. in 1972/Employed at Carlton and
Associates Investment Firm/Instructor at Fielding Preparatory
Academy/Recipient
of awards for Statewide Academic Excellence, Years...  Cut to shot of Daria,
who pulls away before we can see any more.  She frowns a little with
frustration.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Well it fills in a few gaps.  But...

DAMIEN: (off screen)  Got over your jitters about the database?

(Daria whirls around as he comes over, no hint of emotion in her expression.)

DARIA:  I was just looking at something.

DAMIEN: (winks)  We haven't finished filling info out on him yet.  It's been
difficult finding stuff: he must value his privacy.

DARIA:  Hmm, yeah.

DAMIEN:  Makes me wonder what that guy's hiding.  *If* he's hiding
anything.

DARIA: (shrugs)  Maybe he's just very boring.

DAMIEN:  Could be.  Or maybe there's some kind of smoking gun against him
that we don't yet know about.  But of course something like that wouldn't
interest you.

(He walks away.  Daria watches him go, a bit wary about whether his words
contained hidden meaning, but intrigued nonetheless.  Cut to shot of Daria
in her room.)

DARIA: (thought VO) So was this his way of getting me to go along with the
database?  Write an article about Phelps fueled by my own malice, so when
other people do the same, I have no choice but to look the other way? (grim.)
Just like with the defection policy: smear others and you smear yourself.
(She groans.  Then she gets a defiant look.)  But they had a point: why
the hell should I be so worried about hurting Phelps?  What has he ever
done for me -- besides causing me stress?  What right do I have to put his
or *any* teacher's welfare above that of my fellow staffers?

(The defiant look holds for a few more seconds, before Daria's face grows
anguished and conflicted once more.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 6 (Tom's house, next afternoon)

(Shot of the outside.  Cut to shot of Daria sitting on his couch, a scrap
book in her lap.  She turns a page slowly, takes a look.  Then she lifts her
head and stares around the room, a little overwhelmed.  Cut to wide shot to
show how ornate it is.  Just then we see Tom walk in, hand her one of two
sodas.)

TOM:  Find anything incriminating?

DARIA:  That depends...

(With a big smirk, she shows Tom the page she just looked at.  Cut to
close-up shot of a photo of Tom dressed in a school uniform, mid-leap in
the air against the backdrop of crowded bleachers.  Cut to wide shot: Tom
instantly turns red.)

TOM: (slapping his forehead)  Ughhhhh... I thought I'd ripped those out.

DARIA:  I guess you missed one.  (still smirking.)  So, Young Thomas, you were
a cheerleader.

TOM:  Why don't you just parade me around in speedos and a clown wig?  It'd be
less humiliating.

DARIA:  I highly doubt that.

TOM: (insistent)  It was parental force, I tell you.  My mother heard I hadn't
chosen an extra-curricular activity yet, so she threatened to have my car
towed
unless I joined the only one left.

DARIA: (shaking her head)  Gee, your home life is almost as pathetic as mine.
(She pauses for a moment to reflect on that, then looks at the scrapbook.)
Well other than your dose of humiliation, I can't find anything disturbing
here.
(disappointed and relieved.)  Phelps was a role model.

TOM:  Yeah... when he decided to leave, the school held a banquet in his honor.

DARIA:  Maybe he really *is* at Lawndale just to provide kids with a better
education.  (Bt)  He didn't leave Fielding because he was gay, did he?

TOM: (shaking his head)  Don't think so.  Most students seemed to know for a
long time and never made a fuss.  (He reaches over Daria and flips a few more
pages.  points.)  But have a look at these: I saved them from some old
newspapers I found.

(Daria looks through them and cocks an eyelid.  The articles, barely more than
a few inches long, read: Teacher Questioned About Unexplained Absences,
Teachers
Retained For Questioning in Missing Money Incident, Mathletes Forced to
Forfeit
Due to Two Cases of Exhaustion.  Daria looks carefully at the latter two
especially.)

DARIA:  Did you know any of the mathletes?

TOM: (shaking his head)  They graduated a couple of years ago.  But I'll bet
their families are around -- you could try looking them up.

(Daria nods silently, now feeling a little queasy about where this information
could lead.)

DARIA:  Thanks for going to all the trouble to get these.

TOM:  Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to come.  To be honest,
I had my doubts.

DARIA: (reddening a little)  Oh, well...

TOM:  I hope your sister finds this interesting.

DARIA: (stiff)  I'd show them to her if we were speaking.  But since we're
not...

TOM: (confused)  I thought the point of this was to help her out.

DARIA:  It was at one time, but I've since accepted that she has her
life and I have mine.  (Bt)  I'm here on behalf of the underground paper.

TOM:  Ah, of course. (smirks.) So what's it like spending time with such a
mysterious bunch?

DARIA:  What do you mean?

TOM: (mirthful)  People who use aliases, conceal themselves from the outside
world in their secret lair.  Writing about dark things and dark places like
a society of vampires.

DARIA: (rolling her eyes)  Oh, I get it now.  I suppose Jane told you
about the group?

TOM:  What little she knows.

DARIA: (irritated sarcastic)  Through that lovely boyfriend-girlfriend bond
that somehow supercedes the bond between friends.  (a little hurt.)  I
guess she *also* told you I can't handle being in a club by myself.

TOM:  Well she --

DARIA: (sarcastic)  I'll level with you, Tom: she's right.  You see the
underground paper is really just a cover for this special cult that I'm in.
We start each meeting with a rousing "Hail All Mighty Beezelbub!" before
toasting with a round of freshly-squeezed pig's blood.

TOM: (rolling his eyes)  Daria --

DARIA:  I've become incapable of independent thought.  All thoughts you've
borne witness to were implanted in me by The Great Leader, who sees all and
knows all.

TOM: (sighing)  Look, I'm sorry.  The jabs at the group were mine, not
Jane's.
(Daria looks at him questioningly.)  Jane was worried at first, but then she
decided she was jumping the gun and that she ought to trust you to handle
things
on your own.  Said you're anything but a fragile person, and sometimes she
forgets that.

(Beat)

DARIA:  Oh.  (Her cheeks color with a feeling of warmth and gratitude toward
her friend for the unexpected show of faith.)  Okay, then.

TOM:  But (raises a brow.) I think she misses you.

(Daria nods slowly, gets a pained expression that tells us she's realizing,
for
the first time in a while, how much she misses Jane.)

DARIA: (sober)  I haven't tried to push her away.

TOM: (nodding)  I believe you.  You strike me as the sort of person who
couldn't
stop caring if she tried.

DARIA: (catching a meaningful look, shifting her eyes away)  Uh-huh.

TOM:  So have you enjoyed your experience with this group?

DARIA:  Um, sure.  It's taken my mind off of my family.  (Pause)  It's given
me freedom and support... and friendship... and set a standard of
conscientious
newspaper writing that could serve as a model for all publications.

TOM: (gentle)  And yet?

DARIA:  And yet, what?

TOM: (shakes his head)  Nothing.  Just seemed like that's what you were going
to say.

DARIA: (annoyed by his bluntness)  Even if there *were* an "and yet," what
makes
you so sure I'd tell you -- the guy dating my best friend?  (bitter.)  A guy
whose life is so ideal, he couldn't understand if he tried.

TOM:  Is what you think of me?  (Bt)  That I'm some privileged superficial
rich
boy??

DARIA:  Forget it.

TOM:  No, you brought it up.  (frowning.)  You got angry when you thought I
was jumping to conclusions about your group, and I'll admit that was a
mistake.
But then, without hardly knowing me at all, you do the exact same thing.

DARIA: (sees he has a point, but reluctant to admit it)  Well... can you
prove that what I said isn't true?

TOM:  Probably not to your satisfaction, no.  But that doesn't mean I'm
not who I appear to be: an ordinary guy with problems like anyone else.

DARIA: (deadpan)  So I guess you deserve to have a great big gold
medal pinned to you.

TOM: (more annoyed)  I don't *owe* you any justification, but if you want
one, fine.  At *my* school I'm not exactly "Mr. Popular."  In fact I'm
considered somewhat of an "outcast" myself.  I don't care about sports or
clubs, and I haven't mapped out my future plans complete with stock options.
I don't like the girls because they exist in their own little debutante world
and don't think about anything *real*.  (sees Daria's expression has softened
a little.)  So maybe that doesn't meet your lofty standards.  But to me,
you don't meet those standards, either.  You're smart, articulate, not
unattractive, and people care about you -- you shouldn't even *have*
problems.  But then again, what appears to be isn't always what is, as you
so well pointed out.

(Pause.  Throughout this speech, Daria has grown steadily chastened.  She
gazes
at the ground, then slowly allows her gaze to meet Tom's.)

DARIA: (measured)  Hmmm.  You bring up some valid points.

TOM: (shrugging)  It's what us rich, spoiled playboys do best.

DARIA:  And perhaps like Jane, I'm guilty of jumping the gun a little.

TOM: (faint smirk)  At least you're not guilty of firing a gun.

DARIA:  Would you, um, accept a retraction of my opinion?

TOM:  Sure.  And I'll do the same.

(Daria nods, reflecting that between this and Jane's show of faith, the
world suddenly seems a little nicer.  Then, looking very tired, she closes
her eyes.  Tom glances at her with a hint of concern.)

DARIA:  God I suck.  First my fellow staff members give me an earful, now
you.

TOM:  Did you say something to offend them?

(Daria glances at him, once again taken aback by his blunt curiosity.  But
this time she realizes that he genuinely wants to help out.)

DARIA:  Yes.  And I was wrong.  (stands up, starts heading for the door.)
They've got too much integrity and I shouldn't have ever suggested otherwise.

TOM: (walking with her)  Why did you?

DARIA: (shaking her head)  No reason.  I had no reason.  I just saw some stuff
that raised questions in my mind, that's all.

TOM:  Stuff that was of valid concern?

DARIA:  I thought so at the time.  (stands at the door, looking frustrated.)
But they got ticked off at me, just like you did, and they probably had
just as
good a reason.

TOM: (smiling gently)  I got mad because I felt like you were forming
conclusions based on nothing more than prejudice.  But if you feel like you
*have* reliable evidence, maybe you should go with it.

DARIA: (frustration)  Yes, I have evidence, but it's so slim, I don't think I
could trust it.

TOM:  Then maybe, being a good newspaper woman, you could go look for more.
Find out what's *really* at the bottom of your concerns.

(Daria's eyes widen at the suggestion.  She briefly considered such a
thing before, and it seems like the answer to her problems.)

DARIA:  I could do that.  (Bt., then her face falls.)  But then I'd have to
deal with what I find.

TOM:  Would that be so bad?

DARIA:  Yes.  (Her face gets a wilted expression.)  This group comes closer
to fulfilling my social ideal than any other I know.  If I learn without a
doubt that corruption's afoot, I (Pause.  speaks this part very softly.)  I
won't have anything left to hold onto.

TOM: (puzzled)  Hold onto?

DARIA:  The underground got me back in touch with a side of myself I hadn't
seen for a long time: the side that knew exactly who I was and who to set
myself against.  The side that would never let myself get hung up on
stupid stuff like...

(Beat)

TOM: (softly)  Worrying about family members?

DARIA: (looking down)  Without the group's moral fortitude, I'll be left
with nothing except goddamn uncertainty and more uncertainty.  And I don't
think I could handle it.  It's too hard.

(Daria squeezes her eyes shut.  Tom looks like he wants to put an arm around
her, but refrains.)

TOM:  But it's just a group of individuals, Daria: not the embodiment of
your ideals.  No matter how upright they are, sooner or later they'd fall
short of your expectations.

DARIA: (dull)  You're probably right.  Which makes it that much more
depressing.

TOM:  But that doesn't mean your ideals aren't still sound, or that they're
not still attainable.  You just can't attain them by keeping up illusions.

(Beat)

DARIA: (sighing)  Which is what I would be doing if I chose not to investigate
what's going on with my group, right?

TOM: (shrugging)  Hey, you never know: you might find out you had nothing to
worry about.

(Daria thinks about this, then takes a deep breath and straightens up.)

DARIA:  Thanks, Tom.  I know what I need to do now.

(Tom hands her the scrapbook with the Phelps info, and Daria starts to head
out the door.)

TOM: (leaning against the doorframe)  This may not be any consolation, I
think you'll be all right.  (Daria pauses to look at him.)  If Jane's correct
and you're *not* a fragile person, you should be able to handle anything that
comes your way.

(fade-out.  fade-in to: )

SCENE 7 (Damien's basement, a few days later)

(Cut to shot of Damien, sitting alone at the computer, his back to us.  We
see Daria walk up and stand behind him.)

DARIA: (low voice)  Damien, could I talk to you?

(Cut to wider shot. No one else is visible, which is rarity since even on
non-meeting days, someone always stays around to work on layout or just hang
out.  Damien turns, looking both surprised and pleased to see her.)

DAMIEN:  Hey Daria.  Of course.

DARIA: (glancing around)  Where is everyone?

DAMIEN:  Dan and Lou went to the printer to haggle about prices.  As for
everyone else...  (He shrugs.)

DARIA:  It must be nice having time to yourself, to not have to cater
to us staffers.  (Bt)  At least until I arrived.

DAMIEN:  You'd be surprised.  I actually get sort of lonely.

(Indeed, he does seem less energized when he's not flanked by other staffers.
Daria decides to seize this opportunity to discuss what's on her mind.)

DARIA:  Thought you'd like to know that curiosity got the better of me, and I
found some new info on Mr. Phelps.

DAMIEN: (smiling)  Ah, I sensed you wouldn't pass up that opportunity.

DARIA:  Did you arrange the screen so I would see it?

DAMIEN:  It doesn't matter: what matters is what you've found.

DARIA:  I found some evidence that could be pretty damaging.  (speaks very
deliberately.)  Of course I'm not sure that my sources are accurate, but
I've got such a burning desire to see Phelps put away, I'm willing to put
aside my reservations.

DAMIEN:  Excellent, Daria: go with it.

(This was not the reaction Daria hoped for.  She takes a deep breath.)

DARIA:  There's just one thing.

DAMIEN:  What?

DARIA:  When the article's complete, I want it to have my name on it.

DAMIEN: (enthusiasm fading)  Daria, you know our paper's policy.

DARIA:  I *do* know.  But if Phelps tries to dismiss the article as a
cowardly attack, I want to be able to come forward and convince people
otherwise.  That would do more to shed light on his possible misdeeds than
if I remained hidden.

DAMIEN: (uncomfortable)  That's fine for you, Daria, but what about the
rest of us?  Do you want to give us away??

DARIA: (awkward)  It would have to happen sooner or later.  We can't stay a
secret forever, can we?  (Damien's face takes on an unreadable expression.)
The more we publicize with inflammatory writing, the more people will want to
discredit us.  And not just the articles in question -- the whole paper.
Anything that was *ever* written.

DAMIEN:  So how would revealing ourselves solve this problem?

DARIA:  We could prevent the situation from escalating.  Diffuse it ourselves
rather than have it blow up in our faces.

DAMIEN: (cool)  And then once we've "outed" ourselves, what do you think's
going to happen?  Instead of becoming invisible targets, we become moving
targets: for people to shun or torture.  Do you seriously think *we* could
ever win a public relations battle??

(Daria realizes that some of her argument lies on the shaky ground that
Damien pointed out, but she's ready for his counter-argument.)

DARIA:  Maybe not, but we've also never tried.  But pro journalists have to
deal with the consequences of their writing.  And in my case, how much can
they
do to me if, as you suggest, (cocks an eyelid.) my info on Phelps is
*trustworthy* enough to print?

DAMIEN:  They can do a *lot* to you, whether or not you're in the wrong.

DARIA: (realizing this, but:)  Maybe not if we stuck together and got other
people on our side.  Not *everyone* is untrustworthy --

DAMIEN:  I'm sorry, Daria, but I'm afraid I can't let you go public.

DARIA: (nodding slowly)  Fair enough.  And if I can't put my name on this
article, I'm afraid I can't write it.

DAMIEN:  Does this go for all future articles?

(Beat)

DARIA: (thoughtfully)  I guess it does.  I just don't feel like hiding
out anymore.  (Bt., with sad realization.)  And I guess that means I
should no longer a part of the underground staff.  Right?

DAMIEN: (smiling kindly)  It sounds like you're ready to move on.
(He reaches out and pats Daria on the shoulder, a gesture which she
wasn't expecting and finds rather comforting.)  Too bad: you've been
an asset to the group, and we'll miss you.

DARIA: (cheeks pinking)  And... I've enjoyed being here.  I never thought
I could say that about a club.  You guys were there to help me through
a difficult time.

DAMIEN: (sincere)  I'm glad.  (Bt)  Oh, but Daria, before you leave:
do you think you could give us your info so someone else could write the
article?

(Daria feels her spirits sinking.)

DARIA:  So you're not worried about another nameless, controversial
article stirring up the powder keg?

DAMIEN:  Is that any reason to leave a potential blockbuster by the
wayside??

(Beat)

DARIA: (shoulders slumping)  What if I told you I really *don't* have
much info on Mr. Phelps?  That I only said I did to test your ethics?

DAMIEN: (color fading)  Why would you do that?

DARIA:  Because of what Vince said when I met with him yesterday.

(Cut to shot of Daria sitting with Vince at his kitchen table.  She looks a
little apprehensive, while Vince looks guarded and receptive.  A woman --
presumably Vince's mother -- passes through, eyeing Daria suspiciously before
she vanishes into the next room.)

VINCE:  I thought you were with them.

DARIA:  With who?  The mole people?

VINCE:  No, Damien's lackeys.

DARIA: (confused)  What do you mean?  Is there some kind of chasm in the club
I don't know about?

VINCE: (sans shades)  Only the one between me and the rest of them.  I'll bet
you didn't know *I* was the one who founded the paper.

DARIA: (eyes widening)  Really?

VINCE: (nodding)  We started it two years ago out of *my* basement: Damien,
me,
and a couple of other writers.  I thought it'd be a good idea to have a rag
that
told things from an outcast's point of view.  (Bt)  Sure we didn't have a
lot of
readers, but that wasn't the point: it was just to, like, be able to express
ourselves.

DARIA:  Did you use aliases?

VINCE:  Yeah, but back then it was *fun*.  (sour expression.)  Not like now.

DARIA:  So how did things change?

VINCE: (with distaste)  First my dad moved all the damn sports equipment into
the basement from the garage.  Then Dam offered his basement as our new home
base.  It seemed like a good idea -- 'til I realized that meant Damien got
to call all the shots.  (frowns.)  Dam was always coming up with big, risky
ideas, even then.  I figured he wouldn't try anything -- not after he got
fired
from the Peach Tree Gazette for writing careless articles.

(Cut to present shot of Daria and Damien.  Daria cocks an eyelid at Damien to
ask: Is it true?  Damien hesitates for a moment, before nodding vaguely.)

DARIA: (quiet)  Does anyone else know?

DAMIEN: (guilty, sober expression)  It never came up.  (shrugs.)  They're good
guys: they've always trusted that whatever I say is all there is.

(Resume flashback shot of Daria and Vince.)

VINCE: (continuing)  Plus Damien had written for a newspaper and he was new
to the school, with no friends.  He seemed like a good find.  (frowns again.)
But once at his place, we felt obligated to listen more to his schemes.

DARIA: (dread creeping up)  Hmmm.

VINCE:  Soon after, the other guys left -- one graduated, the other had to
transfer to a different school.  Dam and I agreed we needed new members, or
the paper would fold.  So Damien went scouting, and who did he find?
(face darkens.)  More writers?  *No*.  Just a bunch of losers who had nowhere
else to go.

DARIA: (startled)  You saw them as "losers" right from the start?

VINCE: (scowling)  They didn't contribute anything worthwhile.  Couldn't
write,
couldn't edit... treated Damien's basement like their own little pleasure park.

DARIA:  But they're not like that, now.  (catches Vince's eye.)  They taught
*me* a lot about putting together a newspaper.

VINCE: (grudging)  Maybe they've learned a thing or two.  But that hasn't made
them less lazy.  And even worse, Damien's puffed up their egos by treating
every
itty bitty thing they do like it's something for the ages.

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid)  Did *you* ever try to teach them good journalism?

VINCE:  They didn't belong.  I figured the less I did for them, the sooner
they'd get bored and leave.  (He gets a look of faint regret, as though we
wishes he'd done otherwise.)  Instead it just got worse.  Dam wasn't used
to being such a hero figure, so he just lapped up the attention they gave
him.  Once he had an audience, he didn't need old Vince around as much.

DAMIEN: (VO from the present, irritated)  That's not true.  He's always been
my friend.

VINCE: (eyes narrow as he looks at Daria)  But at least I never expected
anything from them.  I did for *you*, but you turned out to be just
as bad.

DARIA: (taken aback)  Because I made a mistake in an article?

VINCE:  No.  Because you got caught up in the same crap.  A serious newspaper
isn't Pleasure Island, for crying out loud.

DARIA: (irritated deadpan)  Oh gee, you mean because I spoke to our fellow
staff members about things unrelated to journalism?  How dare I.  (Vince
groans.)  I see it all clearly now: one miniature golf game, and it was all
downhill from there.  Then it was sharing feelings, giving other people
support.
The horror.

VINCE: (muttering)  Fine, forget it.  You're on their side, so there's no
point in talking any further.

DARIA:  I'm not on anyone's side.  (frowns.)  I just didn't realize you held
me in such lofty esteem.

VINCE: (sitting up straighter)  I wanted you on staff even before you tutored
me.  Knew you were a writer, and, based on what you said in class, that you
had integrity.  Figured you of all people could resist the sloth.

DARIA:  Tilt the balance of the Force away from the Dark Side?

VINCE:  I wasn't gonna just quit the paper *I* founded, so once I learned for
sure you weren't some preppy, I recruited you.  (cheeks redden.)  It was the
first time I'd done it, which is why I... kind of sucked at it.

DARIA: (trace of sympathy)  It's real flattering you had so much faith in me,
maybe *too* much faith.  How the hell was I supposed to know you wanted me to
hide in a corner every meeting?

VINCE: (sober)  I just figured that goofing around wouldn't appeal to you.

DARIA:  Well that makes *three* times you've assumed things about me that
weren't true.  So having struck out with me, maybe you should talk to the
other staffers more and try convincing them --

VINCE: (chortling with disgust)  *Look*, Daria: I'm not cheerful or fun, and
I can't spew bullshit with ease.  They'd never treat me with as much respect
as they treat Damien.  (Pause, hint of jealousy.)  Though I was kind of
surprised they embraced *you* so completely, given you're the same way.

DARIA:  So if they warmed to me, then not all hope is lost.  You could still
come back.

VINCE: (insistent)  It's too late.  Damien's already got them hanging on
his every word, thinking that his big vision of expansion is the only way they
can ever feel like *somebodys*.  They'd never listen to me.

DARIA:  Well, with that approach, I guess you'll never know, will
you??  Maybe if you stopped blaming them *and* me and actually lifted a
finger to shape your damn future, you might make things go your way.

VINCE: (stubborn)  I can't try because I can't come back.  I'm gonna be
home-schooled from now on.  (Daria gets a stunned look.)  My parents are
watching me like a hawk to make sure I don't screw up, or else it's off to
military school.

DARIA:  Why??

VINCE: (cocking a brow)  I had a run-in with the principal.

(Cut to another flashback shot of Vince sitting across from Li's desk.  Li
sits in her chair with her arms folded, a wicked smirk on her lips.  She
points
to a copy of the newspaper on her desk.)

VINCE: (VO)  The day after our most recent issue came out.

MS. LI:  Welllll Mr. Rogers, it's not such a wonderful day in *your*
neighborhood, is it??

(Vince sits there, silent and stubborn, while his voice-over continues.)

VINCE: (VO)  Apparently someone tipped her off that I'd written the crappy
article criticizing her "administrative actions."  She started leveling
accusations and making threats -- but because I kept denying everything, she
couldn't do squat, no matter how much she wanted to.  Finally she just called
my parents, who freaked when they heard I got in trouble at school *again*.

(Cut to shot of Vince and Daria in Vince's kitchen.)

DARIA: (recalling)  But you would never write an article like that.

VINCE: (grim)  Nope.  And even if one of our gang let it slip I wrote for the
underground, how the hell would she trace it to me?

DARIA:  Knowing her, all underground staffers are one and the same.

VINCE:  Maybe.  But I have other thoughts...

(Cut to another flashback shot of Vince and Damien.  They're sitting in
what looks like one of their rooms, looking intense and moody and talking
with the sound muted.)

VINCE: (VO)  Not long before the last issue came out, I had a talk with
Dam about how his schemes were driving the paper away from its model outcast
roots toward the National Enquirer.  Things heated up, a lot of nasty words
got said, and Dam ended up saying (close-up on Damien's face) that I would
come to *regret* we had this conversation.

(Dissolve to present shot of Damien.  Cut to wide shot to show him with
Daria.  Damien looks pained, but perhaps a little guilty, too?)

DAMIEN:  Dammit, Vince is my *friend*.  Or at least he was.  How the hell
could he think that stuff about me??

DARIA:  Drug-induced hallucination?

DAMIEN:  Well great, just *great*: some pal he is.  So I take it you believe
everything he said?

DARIA: (sardonic)  Believe the words of a bitter ex-staffer with an axe to
grind?  It's tempting, but would be a lot like reading an article about a
certain teacher based on questionable sources.  The info lies on shaky ground,
and its sole purpose could be nothing more than to damage its subject.  In the
absence of more information, I withhold my judgment.

(Damien nods with gratitude, and it seems to hit him what Daria was cautioning
about earlier.)

DARIA:  But I do believe him about his confrontation with Ms. Li.  Which
makes this paper's foray into inflammatory news reporting all the more
serious.

DAMIEN:  So you think we should just *back* off and let the Principal
Li's of this world intimidate us??

DARIA:  Look at it *this* way: Li already found out about one staffer.  Who's
to say she won't find out more about us?  Maybe she already knows, and is
just waiting for us to slip up.  If she exposes us while we're in hiding,
she could make us look as bad as possible.  But if we dropped the inflammatory
writing or came forward to argue its value, we'd have more control over
how we'd be perceived.

DAMIEN: (shakes his head)  I said it before: the risks are too great.

DARIA:  Not even if we found sympathizers?  There's got to be some.  Maybe
the staff of the Lawndale Sun Times or the Lawndale College Tribu--

DAMIEN: (bristling)  Let one of those papers steal *our* spotlight??  No way.

DARIA:  "Steal our spotlight"?

DAMIEN: (very intense)  I worked *damn* hard to turn this paper from
a collection of kiddie rants into a serious publication.  I chose kids
to be on staff who society would have left to rot, helped them build their
self-esteem up from nothing.  Now that we're finally on the verge of going
somewhere, I'm not gonna let some snotty pro tell me I've got no business
writing.

(Beat)

DARIA: (frowning)  Would you listen to yourself?  Where are you "going"
except toward trouble??

DAMIEN: (gritting his teeth)  No way.  Not again.

DARIA:  What I don't get is why you wouldn't *want* outsiders to know who
you are.  That you run a successful newspaper instead of being a big
screw-up.

DAMIEN: (more sullen)  It wouldn't work like that, Daria: I've been in
the real world.  They'd trivialize everything I'd accomplished, then
crush my dreams and tell me I had no future.

(Beat)

DARIA: (softly)  I see.  So faced with a means of protecting your fellow
staffers or yourself, you choose yourself.  Gee, I hope they don't take it
too hard if someone *does* find you.  But maybe if you're lucky, you'll
never get caught.  Then you could keep pretending to be a big-shot newspaper
writer who never has to be second-guessed by anyone.

DAMIEN: (chilly)  Hadn't you better be going?

DARIA:  I will be.  Just let me add that in spite of what Vince said, you've
done a good thing making the underground such a welcome environment.  A place
where outcasts can hang out and stretch their talents, until they feel like
they can venture into the real world.  I see why people are so grateful to
you.
(Bt)  So before you use it as a vehicle for your shattered ego, think about
what
you could be changing.

(Beat)

DAMIEN: (subdued)  Very well.

DARIA: (moving away)  I promise I won't ever spill the beans about the staff
or the paper.

DAMIEN:  Good.  (Bt)  And I'll print that correction you wanted.

(Daria looks startled that he remembered, then smirks a little with
gratitude.)

DARIA:  Thanks.  (Bt)  Um, goodbye.

(She turns a little awkwardly and leaves.  Damien watches her with a sober and
faintly depressed expression.  Then, slowly pan upward, until we see Andrea
seated in her loft near the ceiling.  She's been here this entire time, and
now
she looks down at Damien warily.)

(Cut to shot of the outside.  Daria opens the door to the basement and comes
out.  She walks slowly, peering back at the place where she'd spent so
much of her time with some melancholy and a touch of wariness.  She continues
to walk in that same way once she's passed the first few houses.  Then
something
lifts her spirit and she starts walking with more purpose.)

(cut to: )

SCENE 8 (Lane residence)

(Music: "We Can Work It Out")

(Shot of Daria walking down the sidewalk and up to the front door of Jane's
house.  She knocks on the door.  After a few seconds, Jane opens up.  She
looks
at Daria, surprised.)

DARIA: (shy)  Feel like spending time with a prodigal friend?

(Cut to shot of them in Jane's room.  Daria is lying on the bed, Jane
painting,
just like the good ol' days.)

JANE: (impressed)  Sheesh, I knew being on the newspaper was making you
proactive, but I never thought *that* proactive.  Getting the scoop from a
disgruntled ex-staffer.  Telling your leader what's what.

DARIA:  And if I focus hard enough, I can turn water into wine.

JANE: (turning to face her, cocking a brow)  Kind of ironic, really.  You join
this group to avoid dealing with your relationships, and you wind up
getting far
more entangled in relationships than you ever expected.

DARIA: (sighing)  Isn't *that* the truth.

JANE:  And you came to bat for your fellow staffers when you felt they needed
it.  Looks to me like being on staff really *did* help you grow as a person.

DARIA: (surprised by her concession)  And just when I was feeling ashamed for
having such unabashed faith in my group.  Now that I think about it, signs of
trouble were there from the start: why the hell didn't I pay closer attention?

JANE: (supportive)  'Cause you wanted to believe it was a total escape.  And
as you said, the people there were pretty cool.

DARIA:  At least I didn't stay uncritical for *too* long.  You can thank
Tom for giving me that final push.

(Jane smirks with delight, and for once decides not to comment.)

JANE:  So you think you'll ever get back together with those guys?  Just
because
you're no longer on staff, doesn't mean you can't still hang out, right?

(Daria sighs.)

DARIA:  A part of me would like to think so.  I regretted just leaving and not
saying goodbye to Andrea and the rest.  But I suspect our chemistry could
only exist within the confines of the group.  Once I left, the magic left
with me.

JANE:  Hmmm.

DARIA: (sober)  I hope they'll be okay.  (Bt)  But on the less dreary side,
I've got a burning desire to write an article with my name on it.

JANE: (pleased)  So you plan to keep up the good fight for social justice?

DARIA:  Damn moral core refused to abandon me, after all.  If anything, my
talk with Damien helped me see how entrenched it is.

JANE:  I, for one, never doubted it.

(She and Jane share smirks.  Then Daria grows sort of bashful.)

DARIA:  And... I've been meaning to apologize for that stuff I said, about
you having changed.  It was in the heat of anger, I didn't mean --

JANE: (putting up a hand)  Save your protestations.  You did mean it.  And
you were right: I'm not the same loner gal I was when you first met me.

DARIA: (cocking an eyelid)  Are you going to tell me that our friendship has
changed you?

JANE: (smirking)  You *wish*, ego-girl.  (Bt)  Actually the changes started
before I even met you.  Being a loner artist type once fit me like a
glove, but eventually it was too much work.  Always avoiding people, living
with the daily anxiety that something I said might be interpreted as upbeat.
By my sixth self-esteem class, I had to *beg* Mr. O'Neill to give me a sign
up form just so I could be there to mock him when he lectured to a new group
of victims.  And that's when it *really* hit me: there were other ways I
could be focusing my energy.

DARIA: (sardonic)  Like on creating the perfect pipe cleaner sculpture?

JANE: (significant look)  Like on getting to know some new girl I thought
was pretty cool.

(Daria averts her gaze, then lets it slowly return to Jane's.  She can't help
it: something definitely resembling a smile crosses her face.)

(fade-out.  fade-in to:)

SCENE 9 (Daria's room)

(Music: "Get Back," just the instrumental)

(Shot of Daria sitting upright on the bed, looking as though she's just
finishing an entry in her journal.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Well okay, Dear Diary, that brings me back to the
present.  I don't know why I keep you around: maybe because I can hide
myself in you, but it's only so I can find the strength to deal with
whatever's bothering me.

(Cut to close-up of the pages as Daria looks everything over.)

DARIA:  It's been two days since I quit the paper, and so far it's business
as usual here.  My parents are still doing poorly, especially my mother.
Neither acts like they knew I was gone.  The difference is that I've let
them both know, in my own way, that I'm not going to give up on them.  Maybe
it won't make a difference, but at least it makes me feel like I'm doing
something, as opposed to nothing.

(Daria lays down the book and closes it up, then takes a look at the
scrap book with the Phelps articles that Tom loaned her.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  Even though Quinn and I aren't talking, I've decided to
follow up on the Phelps info for her sake.  As Tom said about the underground,
if something doesn't feel right, I should investigate it.  What I won't do
is shove whatever I find down Quinn's throat -- unless it's something serious
that she couldn't have known otherwise.

(Cut to shot of Daria leaving her room, heading toward the stairs.)

DARIA: (thought VO)  I'm going to trust Quinn to be smart enough to
do the right thing: get the hell out of her situation if it goes sour.

(Speak of the devil: the camera pans over to show Quinn just leaving the
bathroom, also headed toward the stairs.  She and Daria both pause and eye
each other for a few seconds, but we sense there's no hostility.  Quinn
looks like she wants to speak, but last minute shyness has her brush past
Daria.)

DARIA:  Hey, Quinn.

QUINN: (stopping, surprised)  Hi.

DARIA:  Feel like talking?  (Bt)  About something *non*-school related?

(Quinn pauses, then finally nods, a faint smirk on her lips.  As they walk
downstairs together, Quinn looks at her sister with a worried expression.)

QUINN:  Daria: have you noticed how Mom and Dad have been acting?

(Daria looks startled by her observation.  Then she smirks faintly with
relief.)



**********************
THE END
[roll the credits.........................
end song: "Let It Be"]

Mercifully the end song and alter egos haven't been permanently banished
from the Season Five episodes...

COMMENTARY

This has, without a doubt, been The Fanfic That Would Never Be Finished.  I
spent over two months on this bloody thing... partly because I didn't have as
much free time as usual what with my job, and partly because it was just
freakin' hard.  I hit road blocks everywhere I turned.  First there was the
fact
that this was my most flat-out serious DWU: attempting to chisel humorous
moments out of it was like trying to chisel titanium.  I despaired over my
vanishing funny bone (maybe I'd exhausted it while working on the A.A.
series),
until I recalled that Daria-centric fanfics and episodes are usually the most
serious.  When Daria is surrounded by funny things to react to, the
episode/fanfic is funny.  Take "I Loathe a Parade" and my fic "Surreal
World."
When Daria is introspective, the episodes range from mildly funny to downright
dramatic -- ex: from "Through a Lens Darkly" to "Dye! Dye! My Darling."

Daria just isn't funny.  Put Daria in a group of people as intense as she and
drama is inevitable.  I suspected that long ago when I constructed this
portion
of the story arc for the Driven Wild Universe.  DWU #18 was a source of dread,
as I felt it was either going to be intensely dark (i.e: the Damien
character is
suicidal) or mildly dark.  (Fortunately, it turned out to be the latter.)  The
best thing I could do was to keep it from being a *melodrama*, which,
mercifully, it isn't.

Secondly, there were concerns about how it would stand in comparison to what's
happening on the actual show.  As we all know by now, Daria is dating Tom on
the show, but not in my continuum.  In the back of my mind, I kept wondering
whether people would accept that Daria could grow in any meaningful way
without
a "fella".  I ended up trying to arrange it so while she's not dating Tom, the
fanfic still sheds light on developments that are taking place in Season
Five.
Ironically enough, as it turns out, the Daria/Tom scene hardly seems different
from the ones in which they *are* dating.

Thirdly, writing an original scenario for Our Heroine is pretty damn
difficult,
which is why so few of my fanfics revolve around Daria.  Yes, you read it
here:
it's not because I find Daria less interesting than Quinn, Helen, Amy, or some
of the other characters I've dealt with; it's because almost *every single
fanfic* has been about her.  Daria has done everything one could possibly
do and
then some.  And that's just in fanfic; never mind the show.  In my fanfiction,
I like to explore the unexplored, so  I focus more on secondary characters.
Focusing on Daria is like moving from a country road to bumper-to-bumper
traffic
on an eight lane freeway.

Lastly, "In Her Own Words" underwent the most drastic changes of any fanfic
I've
written, including "Outvoted."  Its original title was going to be "Idol
Warship," signifying a different angle.  In that version, Daria developed a
crush on Damien, who was revered as a near-god by the other staff members.
This
crush would have blinded her to his wrong-doing until she was absolutely
forced
to open her eyes.  I ended up rejecting the idea after the first draft because
I had trouble seeing Daria fall for someone once he was pointed out in a group
as the "one to worship."  More likely she would have become instantly critical
of such idolatry, and the fanfic would have turned into another "Daria mocks
people who engage in stupid behavior" story.  The way I arranged it for the
final version, Daria falls in love with the group more than any one
individual,
as it suits her longing for a place to escape to from the confusing outer
world,
one where her cynicism can *finally* feel at home.  Because of this, she is
less
willing to be critical of the group's inner workings.  Another major change to
the story came with the addition of Andrea.  Originally she was only
supposed to
appear in one scene in the beginning, as the one who offered Daria the chance
to join the underground because she was leaving.  Then I started to wonder why
Andrea would be leaving, especially since the club was supposed to be so
wonderful.  That got me thinking about how far Andrea had come since the
ironically-titled "Andrea Speaks!", and how interesting it would be to show
it.

Let me put it this way: nearly every scene in every Act was rewritten.  I
rewrote the Daria/Tom, Daria/Vince/Damien scenes in Act Three 3-4 times, and
I *still* think they're too convoluted.  For the first time, I had no idea
what
the ending would be, whereas with other fics I at least had an idea.  I think
IHOW also suffers from a big dose of Too Many Characters-itis.  Out of a group
of eight, I could only afford to bring four characters to the forefront
(Damien,
Vince, Andrea, and, arguably, Danny).  Other than Andrea, I'm not sure the
other
characters were even worth caring about.  But then again, that's part of the
purpose; to make Damien and Vince so shadowy, we're not sure what's up with
them.

It reached a point where, with so many characters, there was almost too much
to resolve in the end, resulting in scene after scene of revealing
conversations.  In some ways, that actually worked out.  Act One showed a
lot of
Daria brooding in her room; Act Three showed her challenging both Vince and
Damien.  A definite shift in her outlook.

No matter what the pluses, though, the bottom line is I wrote this fic with an
utter lack of love, and it probably shows.

(But please let's not start the "If it's no longer fun, quit" drumbeat,
because
I don't work that way.  For me, writing is pleasure *and* pain.)


My major purposes for this fanfic were to 1) show some of what *may* have
occurred during the time period between "I Loathe a Parade" and "Fire!", 2)
portray a middle ground between Daria the Knee Jerk Cynic = bad and
Open-Minded
Daria = good, and 3) show Daria standing on her own in an even greater
capacity
than in "Fizz Ed."

With regards to #1: yes, I know Daria and Tom would not have been looking for
info about Mr. Phelps during the time span between ILAP and "Fire!"; what I
was trying to get was their growing camaraderie.  It really irked me how
those two went from "'Kay, now we're no longer enemies" to "Wow!  There's
something between you two that you'd have to be blind not to see!" with
hardly any build up.  Not a single reference to Jane's growing suspicion of
their rapport in "Mart of Darkness," when she complained about Tom to Daria,
nor any reference in "Groped By An Angel."  And honestly, did they really
*need* to have "Legends of the Mall"?  If the writers were so set on a Love
Triangle season, this space could have been used for a build up episode.  But
instead, I'm left trying to imagine what it would have been like.  As I
said, I like my DWU's to have internal continuity and a good sense of flow,
which is why I haven't made Daria and Tom bf/gf, blah, blah, blah.
Ironically,
I got help from Season Five, where thus far, Daria and Tom have been
practically
like buddies (sort of a relief after the way they so eagerly sucked face in
"Is It Fall Yet?"; yet intriguing: could they be headed for a break-up?).
Anyway, this is the last DWU in which I'll be addressing D/T in any way
because there are too many other plot/character details to wrap up.  But feel
free to imagine they get together soon after the DWU ends.  Or not.
Whichever.

Regarding #2: I'll confess that this was more of a reaction to Season Four
than
to Season Five.  S4, as we all know, provoked those wonderful "Daria is losing
her cynical values!!!" debates.  While I stand on the side of character
development, I'll admit that at the time, Daria's capitulation to Jodie, her
lackluster defense of her beliefs in "Groped By An Angel," the way she was
shoved off to the side in many episodes, and the way Jane and Trent kept
telling
her she was in denial about her feelings for Tom (even if it was true) sent
off
warning signals.  As Daria was learning to accept other people's opinions as
valid, was she losing her spine?  Even if their opinions *were* valid, did
that mean hers weren't?  It felt as though Daria's personality was fading
throughout the season.  Blessedly some of her hard resolve returned in Season
Five, proving that you can "grow" as a person and still maintain your
trademark
values.

Still, it's worth taking another look at the "Give People a Chance" theme that
was so heavily pushed in Season Four and "Is It Fall Yet?".  While I find
nothing wrong with it on the surface, I think that the way it was presented
left out a few ambiguities.  It basically said: "Cynical behavior leads to
isolation and loneliness, whereas opening yourself up to other people makes
you
find new friends and new experiences.  Sure there are pains involved, but
ultimately it's rewarding."  Again, it's hard to argue with such logic, until
you think: what about the people who've had such painful life experiences,
they
can't just venture out and find friends, the way Daria could?  Or what if you
manage to find a group you feel a part of, but that group just *happens* to be
cynical and antisocial?  Would someone like Helen have the right to
disapprove?
If Daria joined such a group (as she does in IHOW), how could she complain
that
Daria is limiting herself without seeming like a big hypocrite?  Especially if
the group stresses belonging and fun without drinking and drugs, and without
any obvious cult overtones?

Also, Daria herself has never openly debated the merits of "give people a
chance," versus "locked in cynical isolation."  Yet it's not as though
she couldn't.  For instance, who's to say that she ever *has* been truly
isolated?; she's the only one in her family with a real friend, for cryin'
out loud.  And she could certainly fashion an equally compelling argument
against opening herself up to others.  Daria might ultimately conclude that
giving people a chance works best, but at least she would have thought it
through first.  That may be what she has done, or is in the process of doing;
but by and large her seeming passivity, her unwillingness to play Devil's
Advocate, in Season Four was rather disturbing.  And thus far I haven't seen
much active thought devoted to the subject in Season Five.

That may be because, despite the occasional snit with Tom, Daria has not
seen the downside of her new willingness to open up.  Everyone seems
pretty nice -- and stable.  It's almost as though the "Daria" writers are
saying: "Once you reach the grown-up world, human nastiness fades away, and
the ones who still dare to act nasty (like Skip, Sandi) will be overcome by
the
nice people."  I challenged that notion in IHOW (not to be confused with IHON
or IHOP) by placing some instability in the relationships Daria made by
opening
herself up.  Since Daria is not *used* to opening up, she's also not used to
adjusting herself to the possible problems.  I then had her deal with it by
entering a group fraught with ambiguity: the underground paper.

You may have noticed that the paper is never referred to by name; originally
I called it the Oracle, but then thought it seemed to generic; better to
make the paper more mysterious and hidden by keeping it nameless.  Same
goes with the "aliases" Daria and company use when they write.  I also wanted
the passage of time to seem fuzzy; we know that Daria is on the paper for at
least three weeks, but beyond that, she could have spent days, weeks, even a
month.  Knowing Daria, it probably wasn't too, too long, because she's too
sharp to let Damien's activities escape her for very long.

The basic theme of the underground is separate realities.  Daria, for
instance,
finds that she can separate herself from outside reality.  While outsiders
(even
Jane) believe that the newspaper staff may be a twisted bunch, she knows
otherwise.  And even though there's no *way* some people wouldn't have
known who
the staffers are, you get the sense it's one great big secret.  Daria comes to
realize that there's something very nurturing about the club, that it's a
cocoon
one shouldn't leave unless one is absolutely ready.  She therefore tries to
prevent Damien from inadvertently forcing it open with his inflammatory
news reporting.  When Daria leaves, it's not because outsiders were right and
a society of cynics is bad, but rather because she feels ready to face the
world after a bout of shaken confidence.  The only real downside is that
people like Damien, too reluctant to leave the cocoon, would rather bring the
outside world to them, the results of which we have not yet fully seen.

Then there's Vince, sort of the exception to the rule.  Or maybe not.  Vince
is similar to Damien in that he wants to be a part of the outside world (in
his
case, though responsible journalism) but at the same time has his own cocoon
that separates him from everyone else, even his fellow staffers.  He is also
similar to Daria with his rigid idealism and disdain for others.  Yet it would
be a mistake to claim he is a male Daria because, as I said, Daria at her most
cynical may never have been as closed off as he is.  If anything, the
character
of Vince suggests that people's cry for Daria to expand herself might be
unnecessary.  Vince is a cynic of the same breed as Luhrman.

I also meant for this fanfic to be a cautionary tale for a certain online
group
composed of cynics, intellects, and outsiders.  While this world definitely
*is*
as comfortable as a cocoon, we shouldn't let ourselves get too wrapped up
in it.
By which I mean, we can't act as though it should last forever (because
obviously it won't) and we can't let it be a substitute for real life.  *And*
even though this group is a cut above many other online groups, we shouldn't
delude ourselves by thinking we are better, smarter, less fallible than
others,
because like other groups, we have our share of trouble and trouble-makers.
If
you already agree with these sentiments, good.  I figure many people would...

Are you sick of reading the word "cocoon"?  So am I.  On to point #3:

So often Daria gets pushed into being proactive by other people.  Just for
once I wanted her to join an activity by her own free will.  And I wanted her
to be proactive for a longer period of time than in "Arts N Crass," "Fizz Ed,"
or DWU #11, "Breaking the Mold."  Hence, the scenes toward the end where Daria
does an unusual amount of talking and persuading and standing up for herself.
If you think that's out of character for her, what can I say? <shrugs>
Daria is
the one who most frequently gets slapped with the OOC label, even on the
show.

The experiences Daria has in this fic could be of definite use in the
remaining
DWUs... and could possibly come with consequences.

Finally I wanted to announce that after this fanfic, I intend to take a hiatus
for a few months to focus on pressing real life developments.  Hiatus does
not mean retirement, but it does mean it'll be several months before you get
DWU #19 and #20, maybe not even until after the final TV movie in August.
Heh,
you DWU followers should be used to that, though. ; >  Anyway, to save you
some pain, I've set up a spoilers page for the "final four" Driven Wild
Universe
fics.  If you don't want to be spoiled, keep reading. ; >

http://www.the-wildone.com/fanfics/kw_fics/spoilers.txt


**Points of Interest**

Beatles #1 related to fanfic theme?: not that I can tell.  It's a little
ironic
that the hot selling album of a wildly popular group would be used in an
episode
about outcasts.  At the same time, the #1 album  displays the Beatles'
journey from their early days to "musical maturity."  Many of its songs are
about learning to let things go, find peace within yourself, etc., etc.  Both
themes could tie into the themes of this fanfic.

Damien, Mr. Phelps, and Greg -- a connection?:  In the midst of writing DWUs
#16-#18, I realized there was a common thread: Daria, Quinn, and Helen all
did something they weren't accustomed to doing at the behest of more
knowledgeable, charismatic men.  Had I completed DWU #15, "The Age of
Cynicism" in a timely manner, we would have seen Jake doing things out of
his realm to impress the formidable Grandpa Barksdale.  Did I subconsciously
have a point to make by lumping these fics together the way I did?  Hmmmm...
<ponders> I don't think so.  I think it's just coincidence.  If you can come
up with a deeper reason, please let me know.  I'd like to hear it.

Will the Pizza King *live*?:  I'll say it now -- yes.

"Andrea Speaks!" references: 1) Andrea's mother's alcoholism and marriage
to an
"ultra-religious" man refer back to Andrea's line: "My mom's a born-again.
Thinks the church'll keep her sober."  2) When Daria says, "What?  A
conformist??" in Act Three, she's referring to Andrea's criticism of her in AS!

Tom: I worked hard to make him seem helpful to Daria without pushing her
toward
a resolution.  That's because, as easy as it would have been for me to have
Tom
point out the solution to Daria's dilemma, I really wanted it to be *Daria*
who
decides what needs to be done, given the independence theme of the episode.
You'll have to let me know how in character I kept him.

Regarding Daria's charges against him: they're similar, of course, to the ones
she made in "Is It Fall Yet?"  Only the difference there was that Daria
believed
Tom didn't think she was good enough for him because she wasn't wealthy.
Here,
she's basically saying he's not good enough for *her* -- that he's
incapable of
appreciating true depth.  A small, but significant difference.  I could see
this
sort of conflict rearing its ugly head again and again, taking on different
forms each time.  It wouldn't be a relationship breaker, but it would be a
source of tension.

In-jokes with place names:  In Act One, Damien mentions he went to Monte Vista
High in California.  Where I live, Monte Vista is the rival high school to
the one I attended.  In Act Three, we learn that Phelps came from Witney,
Oxfordshire.  It's a real city, and was to be the setting of a book that I
spent six years working on.  (Don't ask.)  I visited a couple of times: small,
cute yellow stone buildings, about a half hour's bus ride from Oxford.  As
for Big Harv's Miniature Golf mentioned in Act Two:  naturally I couldn't
resist making a slight reference to my wacko *other* continuum. ; >

Phelps's sexual preference: I made Phelps gay for no other reason than to take
away lechery as a reason for Phelps's interest in Quinn.  I don't think gay
people are inherently immoral or sinister, etc., etc.

Phelps Mystery: If you feel as though the last two DWUs have been teasing
you, I
must apologize.  I hate it when T.V. shows or books do that, for no other
reason than to make the audience suffer.  It's why I steadfastly refused to
get too caught up in the nitty-gritty of the "X-Files" conspiracy theories.
What was the point when the whole damn conspiracy could have been revealed
at the end of two seasons had the creators not insisted upon inserting so many
unrelated Monster of the Week episodes?  In my case, I just wanted to keep
things realistic.  Even though Daria starts getting suspicious of Phelps
in "Charge of the Math Brigade," it isn't like her to turn into an instant
supersleuth and hunt down every slim piece of evidence she can lay her
hands on.  More likely, as in "The Lawndale File," she would try to deny that
there was anything to worry about.  She would doubt her perceptions and
question her motives before feeling compelled to take action.

Unanswered Questions: In relation to my above point, let me just say that
this is my last "speculation" DWU -- meaning the last to build up suspense
with unanswered questions.  Wonderful! because with so many speculative
threads running through it, this fic felt *very* messy to me.  Anyway,
questions raised: What does Phelps want with Quinn?  What's up with Helen
and Jake?  Will Daria's experience on the underground paper rise up and bite
her in the rear?  DWU #19 marks the first of the "resolution" fanfics.  And
you can guarantee that I won't resolve things in hyped-up, melodramatic
fashion.

Although DWU #19 won't be out for a while, it is meant to take place a week
or so after the conclusion of #18.  And Phelps won't be referred to at all!
Either in #19 or #20, its concluding half.


Now it's time once again for **THE MYSTERIES OF**

This one is actually a mystery that's been baffling *me*.  What in blazes is
the name of Trent's grunge club: Zen or Zon (pronounced "zone")?  If it's
the latter, how the hell did we think it was the former?  If it's the former,
why hasn't it ever been said on the show or written correctly on MTV's
website?  Inquiring minds want to know...


**Oops!**

If the Zen is the Zon, I sincerely apologize for subjecting my reader to
that one different letter.  I hope it didn't cause your eyes to catch fire
and fall out... ; >


**Shameless Plugs**

If anyone would like to join my mailing list, e-mail me at
kara_wild@hotmail.com.

My website, the Contrarian's Corner, is still at
www.stas.net/wildone/index.html, but I got so fed up with "spaz".net's
flaky server, I bought webspace and a domain name.  So keep your eye on
www.the-wildone.com/index.html, soon to be the CC's new home.


Acknowledgements:  Special thanks to Paperpusher for giving me some legal
journalistic advice.  No doubt I've distorted things horribly and messed
things up for the sake of drama. ; >  Also Chad Page for doing some beta-
reading, and MeScribble for describing her college's "underground" paper,
which consisted of plain stapled sheets of paper.  Also thanks to the people
on the Paperpusher board for giving me their suggestions for how the
underground
could be created without arousing major suspicion.



Regarding "Daria"'s imminent departure after five seasons.  Well, to mangle
a line from "Evita": You've had a good run.  We sure have enjoyed you. ; >

This fanfic is the property of Kara Wild, copyright March 2001.
All rights reserved.