"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 the eighth fic in my chronology, and the concluding part of "None in the Family." 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," and, of course, 7) "None in the Family, Part One." I'd give it a 2.5S..... Ugh, why even *pretend* these scripts could fit into a half-hour???? Ten Spot Promo: An old one, in which you see the numbers, from 1 to 10, materialize in water. That one always frustrated me, because it seemed to take *forever* for the 10 to appear, and I was like, "Dammit, just let me watch 'Daria'!" Nonetheless, I'm using it here because I'm running out of other promo options... (Black background. Suddenly we see Daria walk on screen and stand facing front, so that she's staring at us from the T.V. screen. Her demeanor is its usual deadpan.) DARIA: Hello. Let me start out by saying that I'm not here to show clips from last week's episode. You know what happened. You read it. And if you haven't read it, it's not hard to find: look right above, and you'll see it's under the *same* title. (Pause. Daria stands there impassively. Finally she sighs.) DARIA: All right, all right, I'll humor you. Here's a brief run-through of what happened: Dad, Quinn, and I have just returned from one explosive family reunion at Grandma Barksdale's house, where -- Mom blew up at Dad for not supporting her when she got humiliated by an old neighbor. Dad blew up at Mom for humiliating him in front of the people at Grandma's party. And Quinn and I got stuck in the middle. Meanwhile, Quinn's mad at Erin for outdoing her in the popularity department. And Erin's mad at Brian for being such a jerk. Surprise, surprise. Grandma's mad at Aunt Amy for not involving her in her life. I'm a little mad at her, too. Amy seems like she's mad at Grandpa Barksdale for stuff he said to her when she was younger. And Aunt Rita just seems like someone who's easy to irritate. Well that should be enough to get you into the second half. So just sit back and enjoy. Or at least be glad this isn't your family. [intro theme music...................] NONE IN THE FAMILY, PART TWO: UNMASKED -- by Kara Wild ACT ONE SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer house, picking up where we left off in Part One) (Shot of outside. Cut to shot of Daria, Jane, and Quinn sitting on Daria's bed. Jane glances at Daria's clock.) JANE: I'd better call Trent to let him know I haven't dropped dead. Or at least to make sure *he* hasn't. (Beat) DARIA: And we'd better tell our mom the same thing. Assuming the coast is clear. (She nods to Quinn. They jump off the bed and head over to the door as Jane starts to make her call. Cut to shot of the outside hallway. Daria and Quinn open the door, creep out, and glance around. Pause. Daria sniffs the air and frowns.) DARIA: Smells like Dad's venting his rage in the kitchen. JAKE: (off screen): Gah! This apron's not flame-retardant! DARIA: Yep. (Beat) QUINN: (cringing) Eww! I hope he doesn't, like, expect us to *eat* what he's making. DARIA: With a little cunning, we won't have to. I have an idea. (She nods toward her room, and they go back in.) (fade-out. fade-in to a brief time later. Daria and Quinn are huddled around the phone, while Jane sits on the edge of the bed, watching.) DARIA: (to Quinn) Just try to sound as upset as possible. Don't lay blame on Dad -- just tell Mom we really want her home. QUINN: Okay. DARIA: If we succeed, whatever Dad's making will ne'er pass our lips. (Quinn nods. Daria picks up the phone and dials.) (Cut to shot of the phone ringing in the living room of the Barksdale residence. Amy's standing closest by, so she picks it up.) AMY: Hello? (Pause. Then cut to split-screen with Amy on the left and Daria on the right.) DARIA: (a little stiff, recalling their last words in the den) Um hi, Aunt Amy. AMY: (warmly) Hey, Daria. (Bt. calls over her shoulder.) Helen, your progeny are still alive. DARIA: Um, could I speak with my mom, please? (Beat) AMY: Sure. (picking up on Daria's stiffness and guessing the cause.) Hey listen, Daria -- (Suddenly Helen bustles on screen.) HELEN: *Give* me that. (grabs the phone from Amy, who rolls her eyes and walks off screen. speaks into the receiver in an anxious tone: ) *Daria*, are you girls all *right*?? What has your father *done* to you?! DARIA: Besides teach us the finer points of road rage, not much. QUINN: (off screen) Ow, Mom! I think I have whiplash! HELEN: Whiplash!! Is that Quinn?! (Bt) Quinn, baby, it's okay. Mama's *right* here. Dammit, I'll *kill* your father -- tearing out of here the way he did --! DARIA: (patient) Mom, she's fine. (Bt. covering the phone, grumbling to Quinn.) What did I say about laying blame on Dad?? (Bt. uncovers phone, to Helen.) We're *both* fine. We're just sitting here in my room, calling to find out when you're coming home. (long Pause) DARIA: Mom?? (Beat) HELEN: Well... I'm not sure. (Beat. Daria rolls her eyes.) DARIA: C'*mon*, Mom: you didn't really *mean* it when you said you and Dad would separate, did you? (Bt) It was just stress from your homecoming. (Bt. suddenly a little worried) Wasn't it? (Beat) HELEN: (uneasy) Daria... I don't know. What your father said to me... DARIA: (rational) Now, Mom, as harsh as Dad was, surely twenty-three years of marriage, based on a solid foundation of love and support, can overcome it. (Bt) Besides, we miss you. QUINN: (leaning in, trying to sound little-girlish) Yeah, Mommy. (Pause) HELEN: (maternal instincts kicking in) Ohhhhhh... my little angels. Just hearing your sweet voices is starting to -- (Suddenly she's interrupted by the clicking sound of another phone being picked up, followed by that of numbers being pressed.) JAKE: (off screen. panicked) Is this 911?! Emergency! I think I just set my house on *fire*!! HELEN: *Jake*, what on earth?! JAKE: Helen?? (Pause. getting enraged) *So* -- you didn't trust me, did you?! Thought you'd spy on me and the girls! HELEN: Jake, I don't trust you any farther than I can throw you. Which, considering how *bloated* your kiester has gotten since we were *first* married, means not at -- JAKE: Oh yeah?! Oh *yeah*?! (Daria groans and shakes her head, realizing an opportunity's been lost.) HELEN: I turn my back for *one* minute, and you set the *house* on fire! JAKE: Oh yeah?! Shows you how much *you* know, Helen! I was just lying to test you. The house is fine! HELEN: It damn well *better* be, Jake Morgendorffer! JAKE: So don't go prying into other people's business the way you *always* do. Just leave us alone! HELEN: *Dammit*, Jake, the first sign of any trouble -- JAKE: There isn't gonna be any! In fact, I was just gonna tell the girls that the soup's on! DARIA: (mumbling) That's trouble enough for me. (Beat) JAKE: Daria? (Beat) HELEN: (fuming) *Daria*, tell your father if *that's* the way he feels, then *fine*. I'll just leave you alone. But remember: first sign of a problem, and you can get to Grandma's house by taking A24 -- JAKE: Oh *no*, you don't! (Daria sighs.) DARIA: Look, Mom, I'd better go. I'll talk to you soon. (Beat) HELEN: (uneasy, not wanting to get off) All... right... sweetie. Mom loves you. DARIA: Um yeah. Me, too. (Pause) Bye. (She hangs up. Pause. Cut to full screen of Helen, lingering on the phone.) HELEN: Jake?? (Pause. We then hear the clicking sound of him hanging up, followed by the dial tone. Helen hold the phone a few seconds longer, then slowly lays it back on its cradle. She turns to Grandma Barksdale, Rita, and Amy, who have been eavesdropping from the living room couch. They're more or less alone; most of the guests at Grandma Barksdale's anniversary party left right after Helen and Jake's shoutdown. Helen walks over to them.) HELEN: (wailing) Oh Mother, he's going to hurt my babies! GRANDMA: (pacifying) Now sweetheart, aren't you being a bit overly dramatic? (Helen drops into a chair beside her.) HELEN: But who *knows* what kinds of horrible things he could be cooking for them?? Jake likes to experiment. GRANDMA: (putting a hand on her shoulder) Now, now... he's their father. He wouldn't hurt them. AMY: (under her breath) Unless arsenic's one of the experimental ingredients. GRANDMA: (to Helen) You're getting yourself all tense and worked-up. Just relax. RITA: Yeah, Helen, we'll get through this shattered-marriage thing together. God knows we've been waiting long enough for it to happen. HELEN: (glaring at her) My marriage is *not* shattered! GRANDMA: Of course it's not. HELEN: It's just... a little... scuffed. (slumps forward.) (Beat) AMY: In the meantime, where were you planning to stay? (Before Helen can reply, Mr. Norbert pokes his head through the dining room door.) NORBERT: (to Helen) Don't worry, hon: the first realization that he's not getting any will make your hubby come crawling back to you. (Helen veers around to look at him. Gets an expression of intense hatred.) HELEN: Get *out* of here, you awful man!!! NORBERT: Or to someone else. HELEN: This is all *your* fault! Mother, make him leave!!! GRANDMA: Harry, I'll see you at the next Homeowners' Alliance meeting. NORBERT: I gotcha, Evie. (Bt. to Helen) And honey, if he doesn't come back to you, there are plenty of other fish in the sea. (nods to Rita and Amy, then exits.) (Helen emits a loud, sharp groan and hangs her head. Pause.) AMY: I'm *really* sorry I missed this one. (Beat. Grandma Barksdale, Helen, and Rita all look at her, irritated.) GRANDMA: You're not funny, Amy. (Bt. turns to Helen) Sweetheart, you can stay here for as long as you need to. HELEN: (sniffing a bit. voice a little foggy) Thank you, Mother. RITA: And I'll ask Erin and Brian to check up on the girls in a few days. If they need that long. HELEN: (sniff, sniff) You will? That's so thoughtful of you, Rita. RITA: Pathetic-ness always brings out my good side. AMY: So that explains why you pick such winners to be your boyfriends. (Pause. Again, Grandma Barksdale, Helen, and Rita give her irritated looks.) AMY: Sorry -- couldn't resist. (Bt) I'll see if I can scrounge up a cell phone for you, Helen. (Helen gets an expression of horror.) HELEN: Oh my God! My *phone*! (fade-out. fade-into: ) SCENE 2 (Morgendorffer house, late evening) (Shot of outside. Cut to shot of the table, where Jake, dressed in a singed "Kiss the Cook" apron, is ladling broth into three soup bowls.) JAKE: (calling out) Get it while it's *hot*, girls! (Pause. We then see Daria and Quinn walk on screen. They sit down -- Daria in her usual place, Quinn in Jake's -- and peer cautiously into their bowls. Jake plops himself down in Quinn's usual spot.) JAKE: It's matzo ball soup! A Morgendorffer family specialty. (Beat) DARIA: Chicken broth and bread crumbs. (Bt) I guess you can't go too wrong there. QUINN: Ew, Daddy, what're *these* things?? (points to shriveled gray objects floating in the broth.) JAKE: Mushrooms and anchovies, of course. Those were *my* addition. DARIA: Of course. JAKE: Regular matzo ball soup is so *boring*. This has much more flavor in it. (Bt) So go on -- eat *up*. (Pause. Daria and Quinn just stare at their soup.) QUINN: Um, Dad, I'd like to, but... I ate some of that yellow wiggly stuff at Grandma's house and I'm feeling kind of sick. DARIA: Um yeah. Same here. JAKE: Oh. (looks disappointed.) (Beat) DARIA: But, um, thanks for trying. QUINN: Yeah. JAKE: Aw nonsense! (does a fist pump.) It's something any with-it, take-charge kind of dad would do. DARIA: Cool. JAKE: I just want to be the type of dad you girls have always deserved. DARIA: Can't object to that. JAKE: And on top of cooking regularly for you, I'm gonna start boning up on some facts about your lives. With-it dads actually *know* stuff about their kids. DARIA: You don't say. QUINN: (looking worried) *Everything*?? JAKE: So I've heard! (Bt) For starters: Quinn, sweetie, how old are you now? QUINN: (making a face) Not *eleven*, that's for sure. (Bt) I'm almost sixteen. JAKE: (expression of horror) Sixteen?! *That* old?! (Bt) Bu-but you shouldn't be dating guys at your age. They've only got *one* thing on their mind, the lousy *bastards* --! (Daria rolls her eyes.) DARIA: Dad, you *knew* Quinn was that old. JAKE: (whimper-mumbling) But I kept trying to block it out... (Beat) QUINN: Well now that you know for sure, (voice takes on a crafty edge) how'd you like to be a really *cool* dad and take me car shopping?? JAKE: Aw gee, honey... if I was the kind of dad I was yesterday, I'd say, "You betcha! Just name the color!" But now that I'm a take-charge kind of dad, I'll say -- no way in hell. (Quinn slumps forward. Daria smirks -- "This being stuck with Dad might not be *so* bad.") JAKE: Let's see, now: Daria, you're se-ven-teen. Right?? DARIA: Correct. JAKE: All right! DARIA: (smirking) Boy, Dad, nothing gets past you. JAKE: You'd better believe it! (Bt. eyes bulge, starts speaking in a rage-filled tone.) Although *some* people would have you think *otherwise*. They just don't trust -- DARIA: Um, Dad, speaking of "some people": how soon'll you feel you've proven yourself enough to Mom to make up and return our house to its normal state of tedium? (Beat. Jake loses his enthusiasm.) JAKE: Gee... I don't know, Daria. (Bt. eyes bulge again.) Maybe when she stops calling me an *idiot* an' starts taking me seriously! DARIA: Okay, that's a valid concern. (Bt) But wouldn't it be better if you and Mom talked this through in *person*? Like in front of a therapist? (Beat. Jake slumps forward.) JAKE: Aw gee, that would never work. Your mom's real good at that talking crap. She'd say *everything*, an' I'd get to say nothing! DARIA: True. JAKE: An' in the end, the therapist'd just side with *her*. (Bt) I hate to say it, kiddo, but this separation's the only way we can work things out. (Beat) DARIA: I see. (Bt. heaves a sigh.) Well, then, I just hope it doesn't last too long. Quinn and I like having *two* parents. QUINN: Yeah, Daddy. I miss Mom. JAKE: (paternal instincts kicking in) Ahhhhh... I'm sorry, sweetie-pie. Daddy knows how hard it must be for *both* you girls. (Bt. resolute) But you gotta give me a chance. Would ya do that for me, huh? (Pause) DARIA & QUINN: (weary) Sure. JAKE: Thanks! (Bt. leans over, takes a sip of the matzo ball soup, makes a sour expression.) *Ewww*!! (He jumps up, takes all three bowls of soup, and goes over to dump them in the sink. Meanwhile Daria looks at Quinn, cocks an eyelid.) DARIA: Grandpa Barksdale must've really put a hex on Dad. He could actually resist your megadose of cuteness? QUINN: (stunned) *Yeah*. (Beat) DARIA: Well so far, so good. But I'm almost afraid to see what *other* surprises the new Dad has in store for us. (Jake reappears at the table.) JAKE: Say, girls, I was thinking: since you're saving time by not eating, why not use it constructively? Your rooms could sure use a good cleaning. (Beat) DARIA: An interesting suggestion. QUINN: Yeah, we'll give it serious thought, Dad. (Beat. Jake's cheerful façade fades a little.) JAKE: Well, uh, it wasn't really meant to be a *suggestion*. (Pause) DARIA: (cocking an eyelid) So you're *ordering* us to clean our rooms? JAKE: Well... yeah. (Beat) DARIA: Okay. Well how 'bout this: we'll clean our rooms, if you promise to-- JAKE: (looking frustrated) Ah, c'*mon* you guys. If your mother had asked you to clean your rooms, you'd be up the stairs in no time. DARIA: Actually, I beg to dif-- JAKE: (getting more irritated) It's just because you two see me as an old *softball* isn't it?? You don't take me seriously, either! QUINN: No, Dad, we're just *really* tired. DARIA: It *has* been a pretty rough day. JAKE: (full-on enraged) Rough day *nothing*. Dammit, when I tell you to do something, you *do* it! I'm not gonna take your excuses any more! DARIA: (trying to be patient) Dad, maybe you should -- JAKE: That's *enough* out of you, Daria! I'm a *man*, dammit, and I'm not gonna back down! I say go upstairs! DARIA: But -- JAKE: Now! (Daria and Quinn sit there a few seconds longer, rather stunned. Jake stands over them in the same rigid pose he'd held during his fight with Helen, his eyes hard and glaring. One look at them, and Daria and Quinn decide not to test their boundaries any further. They stand up and quickly leave the room.) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 3 (Barksdale house, middle of the night) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of the living room. We see Amy coming from the stairs, dressed in a tank top and boxers [lest you thought she wore nothing at all to bed], and wearing her glasses. Her hair's slightly 'froed in that way curly-hair does when it gets slept on. She's moving as if half-asleep, sort of stumbling around, when suddenly she looks off to one side and stops.) AMY: Helen?? (Pan over to show Helen still seated in the same chair she was in earlier, looking as though she's in a daze.) HELEN: (weary) Amy, sweetie, what are you doing up? AMY: I should ask you the same thing. (Bt) Have you slept at all? (Beat) HELEN: No. (Beat. Amy frowns with sympathy.) AMY: Hmm, that's too bad. (Bt) Well if it's any consolation, I haven't been sleeping too well lately, either. (Pause. Helen cocks a brow at Amy's words, and waits to see if she'll volunteer more information. She doesn't.) AMY: I was just gonna head into the den and see if there was something worth watching on T.V. Care to join me? (Helen sighs.) HELEN: (deflated) No, I think I'll just stay here. (Bt) But thanks. (Pause. Amy drops down on the couch next to Helen.) AMY: Helen, don't beat yourself up about what's happened. Married people like you and Jake must fight all the time. (Bt) Did you really think you'd get through life without experiencing a blow-up? (Pause) HELEN: (a bit sullen) No. (Bt) But it was the *way* Jake blew up that bothered me. (Beat) AMY: (sympathetic murmur) Hmmm... HELEN: It was so *strange*. It almost reminded me of... (sigh) oh, never mind. (Bt) The point is, it hurt. You just don't *say* things like that to someone you love, and until he *apologizes*... (can't finish, just sinks down lower in the chair.) (Beat) AMY: I understand. (Bt) But could I just ask: what exactly did old Norbert say to set this thing off? (Beat) HELEN: Oh... he told that silly story about how Daddy got mad at me for wrecking his *stupid* fishing pole, and Jake thought it was funny. And then I got -- (Amy bursts out laughing.) HELEN: *What*?! (Beat) AMY: So that *really* happened? It sounded so far-fetched, I thought someone made it up. (Beat) HELEN: (glaring) Oh be quiet. AMY: So what about it caused you to take offense? Other than the fact that you were completely humiliated? HELEN: (rolling her eyes) That was the week Dad stopped talking to me. AMY: (puzzled) *Stopped* talking? (Bt) But he *started* again, didn't he? I don't remember any long periods of silence growing up. (Helen nods an "Okay, okay, true.") AMY: So *that's* what got you the most upset about Norbert's story? Geez, Helen, it's not as though you and Dad never had worse times. Back when you were drifting around the country with Flower and Wolf -- HELEN: (annoyed) *Willow* and *Coyote*. AMY: (rolling her eyes) Whatever. The point is, for years, Dad couldn't say your name without reaching for his heart medicine. Yet that never bothered you. Did it? (Beat) HELEN: No. (Pause) But the difference was... I was *trying* to upset him then. AMY: Oh. (Bt. smirk) Well not to sound cold, Helen, but you don't know how good you had it. HELEN: What do you mean? AMY: You had *one* fight with Dad in your entire pre-college existence. Whereas if *I* had to count the number of times Dad yelled at or ignored me -- HELEN: Oh come on, you were always trying to provoke him. (A frown passes over Amy's face.) AMY: What do you mean *provoke* him?? HELEN: You *know*. Never smiled unless you had to, always so stubborn, always wanting to be alone... (Beat) AMY: (an edge in her voice) So being *myself* was grounds for Dad to take all his anger out on me?? HELEN: That's not what I -- AMY: So he didn't bear any blame for his behavior. It was *my* fault. HELEN: I didn't *mean* it quite like that. AMY: Hey, Helen, it takes *two* to freeze a relationship. (Bt. pointed look) Which is something you may want to keep in mind. (Beat. Helen frowns at her implication of guilt.) HELEN: And maybe *you* should, as well. (Bt. faux friendly) So, sweetie, while you're here, why not tell me more about *your* little personal crisis? AMY: (somewhat flat) I completed that task yesterday. HELEN: Yes, but *why* do I get the feeling you're keeping something from me? AMY: Because I'm keeping something from you. (Bt) Why should I give you every detail about my life? HELEN: Well I thought after that talk we had -- (Amy utters a sharp laugh.) AMY: You mean our phone conversation over *three* months ago? The one which never had a follow-up 'til yesterday?? HELEN: (a tad uncomfortable) Um, yeah. AMY: Well I'm sorry to break it to you, but when I said, "We need to work on our communication skills," I didn't mean become each other's confessor. My life is *my* business, case closed. (Pause. Helen rolls her eyes.) HELEN: Well I must say, Amy: talking to you is like talking through a stone wall. (Bt) Did your boyfriend ever tell you that? (Pause. Amy's eyes narrow slightly.) AMY: No. (Bt) And your prying goes *way* beyond the bounds of acceptable behavior. (Bt) Has *Jake* ever told you that? (Helen pales, remembering Jake's words to her on the phone. Then her eyes narrow, too.) AMY: No, but I'll bet the *girls* have. (Pause. She and Helen glare at each other for several seconds. Then Amy closes her eyes and exhales sharply.) AMY: (slowly, still with an edge) You know, all this talking's worn me out. I think I'm gonna go back up to bed. So sorry, Helen, my potshots were fatigue-driven. HELEN: (grumbling) Mmm-mmm... sure. Mine, too. AMY: Great. (Pause. stands up.) Good night. (She leaves. Instead of replying, Helen sinks lower in her chair.) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 4 (Barksdale house, the next morning) (Shot of outside.) RITA: (off screen voice-over) She looks even worse than yesterday! (Cut to shot of Rita and Grandma Barksdale peering at Helen from the dining room door. From their POV, we see she's sitting in the chair as she was earlier. Her hands are shaking and she looks like a wreck.) HELEN: (babbling) My phone... my phone... must answer... clients'... messages... (Resume shot of Rita and Grandma Barksdale.) RITA: I'd normally take pleasure in this sort of thing, but this is just *too* sad. GRANDMA: (gently rebuking) Oh, Rita. (Bt) Well maybe this is a sign that she's looking forward to going home. HELEN: (off screen) *Bastard*, Jake -- drove off with it! Never... forgive... him! RITA: Or maybe not. (Grandma Barksdale sighs.) GRANDMA: Well perhaps if you and I and Amy work together, we can make Helen see how silly she's behaving. RITA: (vague surprise) What happened to "stay here as long as you need to"? (Beat) GRANDMA: Ohhh... her whimpering just gets so *darn* annoying. (Rita nods.) RITA: Well I'll help you, Mother. (Pause. innocent tone) Gosh, I hope I don't whine about *my* relationship problems. (Beat) GRANDMA: Let's go tell Amy about our plans. (She leaves quickly. Rita watches her go, a little startled, then shrugs and follows. Cut to shot of the kitchen table. Amy's sitting there with her head buried in a newspaper. Grandma Barksdale and Rita walk over to her.) GRANDMA: Amy. (Amy lowers the newspaper, looks at her impassively.) GRANDMA: Rita and I have decided that we're going to sit down with Helen and try to convince her to go back home. (Beat) AMY: Good luck. (starts to raise her newspaper.) (Beat) GRANDMA: (cocking a brow) *All* of us. AMY: (lowering her newspaper) Why? GRANDMA: (annoyed) What do you mean *why*? You and Rita are Helen's sisters, and it's your duty to help her out. (Beat) AMY: (frowning a little, remembering last night) Okay. (Bt) But what if she doesn't listen to us? GRANDMA: Then we'll keep trying until she does. AMY: Which could take *how* long? RITA: What are you getting at, Amy? AMY: I'm getting at the point that you, I, and she need to be at work on Monday. I was gonna drive home this evening -- RITA: (exasperated) Oh Amy, that is *so* like you. All you ever think about is "me, me, me." *Your* needs are the only ones that matter. (Beat. Amy glares at her.) AMY: And how is that any different for you? RITA: Meaning *what*?? GRANDMA: Girls, settle down... (knows she won't get through to them.) AMY: (coolly) You're being awfully selfless where Helen's concerned. Almost *suspiciously* selfless. *Missing* work to help her out? RITA: So I *care* about her well-being! AMY: You got laid off, didn't you? (Pause. Rita looks at her, flabbergasted. Grandma Barksdale pats her on the shoulder consolingly, then frowns at Amy.) GRANDMA: Now, Amy, it's not easy being a full-time receptionist in this age of the temporary employee -- RITA: (grumbling) Lousy little rodents get *no* benefits -- GRANDMA: (to Rita) You'll find something in no time, dearest, believe me. RITA: (to Amy) Not like *your* job is so important, anyway. (Pause. Amy frowns darkly at her.) GRANDMA: Rita... (Bt) Look Amy, it's all right. If you feel you absolutely *must* go home, then do so. We can't keep you here. (Pause. Now Amy appears to be mulling over some hidden meaning in her mother's tone. Finally she sighs and puts on a humoring smirk.) AMY: Fine, Mom, *fine*. I'll stay put an extra night for Helen's sake. (Bt) But I just hope we can make it through this crisis without killing each other. (Grandma Barksdale gets a smirk of subtle approval.) **************** END OF ACT ONE [Split screen of Helen ranting on the phone to Jake and Daria groaning.] ***You are now entering commercial *HELL*. Please keep your seat belt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.*** They're baaaaa-aaaaack... 1) "Next Wednesday, on the Ten Spot: Sandi tries to rebound from losing the Fashion Club presidency by running for president of the Student Body. Her opponent... Jane?? (drat, no footage again -- this time it's the MTV technicians' fault, I swear!) Find out more next week on an all-new 'Daria.'" 2) Corn and wart-removal commercials: The kind where you see a strip over a corn or wart and watch the unsightly blemish disappear. Eww. Please, not while I'm eating... 3) News magazine promos -- especially ones for "Dateline." Oh, that bone-chilling music, the grainy images, and the "They never thought it could happen here"'s [to which I say, "Why not??? Murphy's law says *something* bad will happen anywhere at *some* point in time.] I watch these and think: hell, it's the *commercials* parents need to be concerned about, not the T.V. shows their kids watch... ***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?*** ACT TWO SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer house, late Sunday morning) (Shot of outside. Cut to shot of Jake sitting on the center couch in the living room, surrounded by boxes of paper and other junk. He's scribbling things down on two separate note pads. We then see Daria approaching him from the kitchen, having come through the sliding glass door. She looks exhausted and there are bits of grass in her hair.) DARIA: Okay, Dad, I mowed the lawn. Could I *please* go over to Jane's house, now? JAKE: In a sec, kiddo. Lemme just inspect your work. (Bt) Hey, Daria, your middle name's "Marie"? DARIA: That's news to me. JAKE: There's so much I still have to learn about you girls... (Beat) DARIA: (seeing the boxes) What're you doing? Putting together an incriminating file on us? JAKE: Ah-ha-ha, no! I'm just boning up some more by going through these boxes your mother'd stored away. (Bt) Hey, you wanna see yourself in a sailor costume? DARIA: Um, I'll pass. (Bt) So anyway, Dad, about the lawn -- (Suddenly we hear Quinn bounding down the stairs. She runs over and stands next to Jake.) QUINN: Okay, Daddy, I've finished my algebra homework! JAKE: Hi Quinn *Louise* Morgendorffer. QUINN: Huh? JAKE: Aw nothin'. (Bt) Sit down, both of you. (Quinn and Daria glance at each other, then sit reluctantly on the left hand couch.) QUINN: Um, Dad, could you make this quick? I wanna head over to Stacy's. JAKE: We'll get to that in a minute, sweetheart. But first, I want to talk with you about what went on last night. (Beat. Daria and Quinn nod slowly.) JAKE: (looking sheepish) I feel like I came down a little hard on you. DARIA: That surprise dust inspection at midnight *was* rather excessive. JAKE: And I don't always want to act that way. I want our father-daughter relationship to be based on respect, which is why I decided that setting down a few basic ground rules would be better than me having to yell at you a lot. DARIA: Sounds fair. QUINN: Uh-huh. JAKE: Glad you feel that way -- 'cause I've already written them down! (He holds out one of the notepads and leafs through several pages, revealing countless rules on each page. Daria and Quinn look at them, their eyes widening.) JAKE: Now if you follow them accordingly, our house should be a much *nicer* place. DARIA: (cocking an eyelid) So you say. And just what *are* these rules? JAKE: Here, lemme read them out to you. (Pause. flips to the first page.) Rule number One: "no back talking." Think of how smoothly things'd go if you just said "yes Dad," or "no thank you, Dad." (Quinn glances stealthily at Daria and smirks.) DARIA: (sardonic) Oh sure, Dad. JAKE: (pleased) See -- that wasn't so hard, was it?? (Bt) Rule number Two: no talking on the phone after seven p.m. QUINN: (look of horror) *Hgh*! (Daria smirks at her.) JAKE: That clears the rest of the evening for "family time." We can catch up on old home movies! (Now Daria groans.) JAKE: And lemme just shoot through the rest of this list. (reading) No fighting, no swearing, no using spoons for weapons... no dallying, no wasting water -- DARIA: Are we relocating to a convent? JAKE: Now, kiddo, do I hear you breaking Rule One? (Daria suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.) DARIA: No. I'm just commenting on the orderliness of your list. JAKE: Well *thanks*! (Bt. reading) No crossing your eyes, no thinking bad thoughts -- DARIA: But, um, Dad, if I may express myself in an attitude-free manner: I don't see where the idea of mutual respect comes in. (Beat) JAKE: (puzzled) What d' you mean? Your following the rules shows that you respect *me*, and my leaving you alone because of it shows I respect you. DARIA: Um, Dad, I believe you might be confusing -- QUINN: (rushed) Well, um, your rules sound *really* fun, Dad, an' I'd love to hear more, but I have to get to Stacy's. (starts to stand up.) JAKE: Not so fast, sweetie. Sit down. (Quinn sits, looking frustrated.) QUINN: But Daddy --! JAKE: And no breaking Rule One. (Bt) Now Quinn, I got a look at your room today, an' found out you cleaned all your clothes off the floor by dumping them under the bed. DARIA: (to Quinn. surprised) *You*? QUINN: (shrugging) They were last season's. JAKE: And that's a direct violation of Rule number One-hundred and Six: no leaving things to gather dust balls. (Beat) QUINN: (rolling her eyes) Okay, okay, I'll pick them up. JAKE: Sorry, sweetie, too late. 'Fraid I'm gonna have to make an example of you. (Bt) You're grounded. QUINN: *What*?! DARIA: You're grounding her for breaking a rule she didn't even know about? JAKE: Daria, do I hear you breaking Rule One? DARIA: Look, Dad -- JAKE: Ah-ha, I do! (shoulders sag a little, gets a frustrated expression.) Dammit, girls, don't you see how hard I'm trying?? All I want is to instill a little *discipline* around here, get treated with a little *respect* -- DARIA: We understand, Dad. But there are other ways to go about -- JAKE: That's strike three, Daria, and you're out. You're grounded, too. DARIA: *What*?? QUINN: Daddy, you're not being fair! JAKE: (eyes bulging) Not fair? Not fair?! This whole *rules* list is about me *trying* to be fair! And you don't care anything about it -- *that's* what's *not* fair!! Boy, I bet Howard Barksdale never got this kind of response from *his* daughters! (Beat) DARIA: (annoyed) That depends. Did *he* resort to Nazi tactics, too? JAKE: Gah *dammit*, Daria, you're *double*-grounded! DARIA: What about a trial? JAKE: No trials, *nothing*. Go upstairs! (Daria rolls her eyes.) DARIA: *Fine*. (Bt) C'mon, Quinn, let's go up to my room. I'll teach you how to play the harmonica. [*] see "The Big House" (They stand up and walk away. Jake slowly lays down his rules list, looking remorseful. On the way up the stairs, when she's out of earshot: ) DARIA: (hushed) I doubt even Grandpa Barksdale was this bad... (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 2 (Barksdale house, that afternoon) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Grandma Barksdale, Rita, and Amy seated in the living room. Grandma Barksdale's flipping through a seed catalogue, while Rita fiddles with the newspaper crosswords and Amy reads a book.) GRANDMA: (glancing up from the catalogue) You know I must say: in spite of the situation, I rather like seeing all of you girls at home, again. RITA & AMY: (without looking up) Mmm-hmm... (Just then, we see Helen coming toward them from the stairs. She's dressed casually and looks a little out of it, having just woken up a short time ago.) GRANDMA: (to Helen) Hello, sweetheart. Feeling better? (Helen sinks into her usual chair.) HELEN: Uh-huh. GRANDMA: *Good*. Nothing like a good long rest to bring one back to one's senses. (Beat) HELEN: I guess. (looks sort of depressed.) GRANDMA: So do you finally see how silly you're behaving? (Beat) HELEN: (surprised) Silly? What do you mean? GRANDMA: I mean getting yourself all in a fuss just because your husband called you a name. RITA: Yeah, Helen. (Helen looks at them, her face growing tense. Amy glances up from her book, cocking an amused brow because she knows this won't get anywhere.) GRANDMA: Married people do from time to time. Certainly your father and I... RITA: I call my boyfriends names all the time. GRANDMA: The point is, a name or two is no reason to jeopardize twenty-three years of marriage. Even if the man you're married to... (wrinkles her nose) leaves something to be desired. (Pause. Helen looks at her for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Then she smirk-sneers.) HELEN: (sarcastic) Well *thank* you, Mother, Rita. Listening to you has brought me back to my senses, all right. It's reminded me of why I got angry in the first place. (Rita and Grandma Barksdale roll their eyes. Amy smirks.) HELEN: Excuse *me* for thinking that in a marriage, both members of the couple deserve respect. (Bt) I've always tried to keep the lines of communication open between me and Jake, and -- (The sound of muffled chuckling can be heard from Amy. Helen frowns at her.) HELEN: *What*, Amy?? (Beat) AMY: Oh, um, nothing. I just reached a funny part. (Helen groans.) GRANDMA: Well now, Helen, let's consider what you just said. *Open* lines of communication. (Bt) So why don't you call your husband and talk to him? (Pause) HELEN: (sulky) He'll just hang up on me. GRANDMA: Are you sure? (Beat) HELEN: Yes -- he's already done it once. (Bt) He thinks I'm some horrible, oppressive *meany*. You heard him yesterday. (Pause. Grandma Barksdale and Rita glance at each other and nod slowly.) HELEN: But what I'm wondering is why hasn't he mentioned this *before*? It's not as though he never had the opportunity -- (Again a muffled sound from Amy. Grandma Barksdale, Helen, and Rita glare at her.) HELEN: (sarcastic) Oh *excuse* me, Amy. I hope I'm not disturbing you with my talking. (Amy lowers her book.) AMY: What? HELEN: (waving a hand) No-no-no, you just go back to your reading. We'll try to keep it down. (Pause. Amy slowly lays her book aside.) AMY: What are you implying, Helen? HELEN: (laughing a little with irritation) *Implying*? Why nothing at all, I assure you. AMY: You don't really want to know what *I* think. HELEN: No. But you're talking, so you might as well tell me. (Beat) AMY: All right. (Bt) I think Jake'd been feeling resentful toward you for a long time, but was too afraid to say anything. Seeing Dad's army photos reminded him of what it was like to have a spine, and that was all he needed. (Beat. Helen frowns with bewilderment.) HELEN: *Afraid*? Of *me*?? RITA: (surprised) So *Dad's* behind this? HELEN: *Why* would he be afraid?? AMY: (rolling her eyes) Ask *yourself* that, Helen. (Bt) Who *wouldn't* be intimidated by a hard-driving, take-charge perfectionist? Who never likes to admit when she's wrong? HELEN: *I* admit when I'm wrong! AMY: (smirking) Do you? (Pause. Helen glares at her.) HELEN: How would *you* know, Amy?? You were only at our house that one weekend. AMY: True. (Bt) But I *did* grow up with you. HELEN: Ooh, and how very *sure* of yourself you are for someone who was barely out of diapers by the time I reached high school. (Grandma Barksdale and Rita look at each other.) GRANDMA: (to Helen and Amy. firm) Girls, let's bring this little discussion to an end. AMY: (to Helen) You asked me what I thought, so I told you. That's all I have to say on the subject. (reaches over to pick up her book.) (Beat) HELEN: "That's all I have to say on the subject." (Bt) *Listen* to her! She can just *close* off a conversation whenever she wants. GRANDMA: (warning) Helen... HELEN: As long as *she* comes out on top. (Amy sets down her book again.) AMY: (irritation creeping in) Now aren't *you* being a little presumptuous, Helen? GRANDMA: *Yes*, Helen. And you, *too*, Amy. Arguing like this isn't going to help anything. HELEN: (to Grandma and Rita) Well doesn't it *annoy* you that she never talks unless it's to say something *insulting*? (Beat) RITA: (irritation creeping in) Yes. It *does*, actually. (Beat. Helen blinks, surprised that for once they agree on something. Grandma Barksdale groans softly.) AMY: You know, I'm getting a little tired of hearing what a self-centered bitch I am. HELEN: (slightly placated) Well look, Amy, would it hurt you to talk to us *honestly* every once in a while? RITA: Yeah. Act like we're *worth* your time. AMY: (coolly) You're worth my time. But am I worth *yours* is the real question. HELEN: Of *course* you are! RITA: Oh give it up, Helen, she won't believe you. She thinks everyone's against her. GRANDMA: (to herself. hushed) Everyone except Eleanor, that is. RITA: (picking it up) *Yes*, Aunt Ellie. AMY: (eyes narrowing) You leave her out of this. RITA: (coolly) Too bad she's dead. Now you're stuck with us. HELEN: (cautioning) Rita... (Rita frowns at Helen, annoyed that she's dropped off the offensive and left her to look like the jerk. Amy, meanwhile, has been pushed over the edge by Rita's last words. Glowering, she stands up with the intention of leaving the room. Grandma Barksdale motions to her.) GRANDMA: Boo-boo, stop. Sit back down. (The nickname has a pacifying effect on Amy. She pauses, then finally sinks down onto the couch, still looking angry.) HELEN: (to Amy) Look, we'll stop harassing you, all right? If you promise to lay off the cutting remarks. (She looks pointedly at Rita, who takes her time before nodding in agreement. Amy pauses to consider. Then the anger fades from her face, and she cocks a resigned eyebrow.) AMY: All right. (Bt) At least for the afternoon. GRANDMA: Well I'm glad that's settled. HELEN: Me, too. Except for one thing. (Bt) We've been spending an awful lot of time talking about *my* problems, and I could use a break. (looks pointedly at Amy.) What say we give someone *else's* a try? (Pause. Grandma Barksdale and Rita look at Amy inquisitively. Amy sighs and lowers her eyes.) AMY: (uneasy) Look, it's not that I have something against any of you. It's just... I really did give the gist of my problems yesterday. (Bt) Any more wallowing in the details would make me really... uncomfortable. (Pause) GRANDMA: Well perhaps you could tell us what this mystery man of yours was like. (Bt) Rita and I have only just heard of him. (Pause) AMY: I guess I could do that much. (Beat) HELEN: And besides -- you told me that it takes *two* to freeze a relationship. (Bt) So far, you've given his side of the story behind your break-up. What's yours? (Pause. Amy looks rather startled by Helen's words.) AMY: *My* side?? (Pause) I guess I haven't told you my side, yet... have I? (cut to: ) SCENE 3 (Morgendorffer house, at that same time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria walking into Jake and Helen's room. In the distance, we hear the sounds of a harmonica playing. Daria looks at Jake off screen, wearing her usual deadpan expression.) DARIA: The prisoner requests permission to speak. (Pause. Pan over to show Jake sitting Indian-style on the floor beside Helen's closet. He appears to have been putting back the old boxes, but is now just sitting there, gazing at Helen's business suits.) JAKE: Um... yeah, kiddo. Permission granted. (Daria walks over to him.) DARIA: You never specified the terms of our grounding. Are we barred from the phone, not allowed to see friends, or locked in our rooms 'til we shrivel up and die? (Pause) JAKE: (only marginally enthused) Oh, um... whatever feels best for you. (Beat) DARIA: What're you doing? (Beat) JAKE: I'm just... watching over your mother's business suits. They just look so lonely, hanging here all by themselves. DARIA: Well she'll have to reclaim them eventually -- unless she plans to only work on "casual dress" days. (Jake manages a hint of a smirk at Daria's remark. Then he just looks depressed.) DARIA: Dad? (Bt) Are you sure you're up for this whole authoritative parent approach? JAKE: What d' you mean? And was that another violation of Rule One? DARIA: (shrugging) Maybe. (Bt) I mean assigning us these rules, expecting us to just obey you, no questions asked. (Beat) JAKE: Well sure I'm up for the challenge. (bristling a little) I'm *no* worse at parenting than the *next* guy! It'll take me some time to adjust to this new firm hand approach, but once I do, I'll be a really *great* father to you girls. DARIA: But who says Quinn and I *want* that type of father? JAKE: Well gee, who wouldn't?? I mean I've heard your mom talk about how firm your grandfather used to be, and people love him! DARIA: I thought you didn't support Grandpa Morgendorffer's approach to parenting. JAKE: No, no, sweetie, you're confused. You mean Grandpa *Barksdale*. DARIA: (cocking an eyelid) Do I? (Beat) JAKE: Now *I'm* confused. DARIA: What I'm saying is that it seems like *both* my grandfathers took the harsh approach when it came to raising their kids. What makes you think that what failed so miserably on you would work on us? (Beat) JAKE: (depressed) But your Grandpa Barksdale made it work. DARIA: Well... I don't know much of his story. (Bt) But in our case: *I'd* prefer it if you tried to reason with us instead of giving orders. (Beat. Jake slumps over, looking sort of defeated. Daria sees this.) DARIA: Don't take that as a sign of failure. (Bt) You're moving in the right direction by taking the time to learn about our lives. JAKE: (brightening a little) You mean it, kiddo? DARIA: Yeah. (Bt. cocks and eyelid) And while your Il Duce turn hasn't been too pleasing, I'll admit that we *could* use a little discipline now and then. As long as the "now" is very far apart from the "then." (Beat) JAKE: So you think I'm becoming a better father?? DARIA: (smirking) Don't let this get around, but I think you're making more progress this weekend than in the last seventeen years combined. JAKE: Wow! That's great! (Bt) Aw, kiddo... (reaches over and hugs her legs.) DARIA: Uh... JAKE: (releasing her abruptly) Wait'll I tell your mother! DARIA: (eyes widening with relief) So you'll finally talk to Mom?? JAKE: Well sure, why n--? (suddenly slumps over.) Naw, I can't. DARIA: Why not?? (Beat) JAKE: Don't you see, kiddo? I'm doing fine when she's not around, but the minute she gets back it'll be "Jake, I'm *on* it, go read your newspaper." DARIA: So what if you told her you'd learned to handle responsibility? Isn't that why you separated in the first place? JAKE: Well, yeah... but I don't know if I *could* tell her. DARIA: You spoke your mind pretty well at Grandma's party. JAKE: But that was different. Then, I'd thought I'd finally found the *perfect* way to quit screwing up. But now that I realize it's *not* the way, I don't know if I'd have the courage... DARIA: Well... what if you wrote Mom a letter? (sees no response from Jake.) What if *I* talked to her for you?? JAKE: Aw, that's sweet of you to offer, kiddo, but I couldn't drag you into the middle of this. DARIA: I don't mind. JAKE: Naw, forget about it. (suddenly his shoulders sag, and he looks *really* depressed.) (Pause. Daria's brow wrinkles -- "This is not good." She watches Jake for several more seconds, then turns to leave.) DARIA: (hushed) I hate to say it, but *my* powers may not be great enough to solve this one. (cut to: ) SCENE 4 (Barksdale house, at that same time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen, Rita, Amy, and Grandma Barksdale in the living room. Amy's now the center of attention -- a position which she's not used to being in, and she looks clearly uncomfortable . She keeps fiddling around with her glasses as she speaks.) AMY: (somewhat flat) Any sign that you question my taste in men, and my story ends. All right? (Helen and Rita appear to consent, but Grandma Barksdale gets an exasperated look on her face.) GRANDMA: Now *what* makes you think we'd do that?? (Amy cocks a knowing eyebrow at her and doesn't reply. Instead, she launches into her history with Joel.) AMY: Well anyway, how we met's not the most exciting story in the world -- nothing you could make into a feature film. (Bt) All it was was his friend knew my friend, we met at a party and got talking, and things went from there. (Pause) HELEN: But surely that can't be *all*. (Beat. Amy frowns a little at Helen's "prying.") AMY: (mildly sarcastic) Well *gee*, Helen, if my relationship lasted for over two years, I guess there *must've* been more to it. GRANDMA: Yes, yes. (Bt) For starters, what does, er *did* this boyfriend of yours do for a living? (Beat. Amy seems unsurprised that her mother would ask that type of question.) AMY: Well, Mom, it'll please you to know that Joel is an engineer. Steady, respectable, earns good money, logical. *Very* logical. RITA: Geez, "steady" and "respectable"? That doesn't sound like you, Amy. (Pause. gets a warning expression from her. rolls her eyes.) I don't mean that in a *bad* way. (Beat) AMY: (cocking a brow) You're right -- I like my men with quirks. And Joel has lots of them. (Bt) For instance, he really believes in that spirit animal crap. Thinks he can talk to animals if he *just* masters the right vocal pitch. GRANDMA: (softly, trying not to sound like she disapproves) My, my... AMY: (picking it up) But he's weird within *acceptable* bounds. I don't date lunatics. (Bt) And... a lot of his weirdness can be pretty sweet. (gets a reflective expression on her face.) Like sometimes he would make up these silly love songs where each line ending rhymed with my name... Used to sing them to me over the phone.... (rolls her eyes and chuckles softly.) (Beat) HELEN: He must have thought you were pretty special. (Pause. Again, Amy seems ill at ease with Helen's forwardness. But instead of firing off a sarcastic remark, she just sort of stares at the floor.) AMY: Well yeah, he did. And I thought he... I mean I still... (Pause. then she sigh-groans) Let's put it this way: for a lot of people my age, being in love is old hat, but for me, it's a fairly new experience. (Pause) I've dated a lot, but I never felt... Joel made me feel... (Pause. She gets a tired look on her face and continues to speak almost to herself.) AMY: I didn't want to break up with him, but I had to. (Pause) And I thought I could shut him out of my mind if I really tried, but... (voice gets soft) it hasn't, um... it hasn't worked out that way... (Her face reddens, and she closes her eyes.) (long Pause. Helen, Rita, and Grandma Barksdale glance at each other. Amy exhales sharply. Pause. Then she reopens her eyes.) AMY: I won't burst into tears, in case you're worried. (Helen, Rita, and Grandma Barksdale exhale sharply with relief. Pause) RITA: So *you* broke up with him?? AMY: (weak sarcasm) Don't act so surprised. HELEN: But why? AMY: Because I knew we couldn't live together, that's why. (Bt) I saw characteristics in him that I didn't like. (Beat) GRANDMA: (quiet) What sort of characteristics? (long Pause) AMY: Well, if you must know... Dad's characteristics. (Pause. Grandma Barksdale presses her lips together and continues to regard Amy with a neutral expression. Yet Amy senses that both she and her sisters are a bit stricken by this statement. She looks ashamed.) AMY: I shouldn't've said that. Forget it. (Pause) GRANDMA: (quiet) No. Go on. How was this Joel fellow like your father? (Beat) AMY: They aren't *exactly* alike, but in many ways they're similar. (Bt. somewhat defensive) Look Mother, I loved Dad. I know you think I didn't, but I did. GRANDMA: (also defensive) I never thought you didn't. AMY: But I remember things about him that none of you seems to. Or else you've chosen to ignore them. (Bt) Like how Dad could be really nice one minute and then just turn on you. (Helen and Rita get thoughtful expressions on their faces.) AMY: (bitter) When he was happy, he could've been chosen Father of the Year without question. (Bt) But you had to follow his countless unspoken rules to keep him that way, or else he'd come down on you. (Bt. to Helen and Rita) Don't *you* remember? (Pause. No response -- not even from Helen. Amy gets a deeply frustrated look on her face and utters a short laugh.) AMY: (muttering) No, of course you don't. You probably never had those problems. (Bt) It was just me... because I was the "bad" one. (Beat) GRANDMA: (quiet) You weren't bad, Amy. AMY: Hmph. (Bt) Maybe not... but Dad sure made me feel like I was. Half the time I didn't even know what goddamn thing I'd done wrong. But all of a sudden, Dad would start treating me like something that had crawled out from under a rock. (Bt. to Helen and Rita. very frustrated) Maybe *you* two never had that experience, but *I* did. (Pause. She waits for a response, then adds: ) AMY: (quiet) I didn't want that to happen with Joel. (Pause) HELEN: (subdued) Did *he* treat you badly? (Beat. Amy sighs.) AMY: Not exactly, but his logical engineer mind has given him a tendency to find fault. Everything has to be a certain *way* with him. (Bt) We got into a really explosive argument over where to store the eggs not too long ago. GRANDMA: That doesn't sound *so* terrible. (Beat. Amy frowns at her.) AMY: (a defensive edge creeping in) No. Not in isolation. But spread it out over several months and the routine gets old -- especially when it means you feel like a moron time and again. (Bt) Besides, there's more to it than that. (Pause) HELEN: Like what? AMY: Like... (gets a peevish look on her face.) I kept feeling this pressure from him to give up my privacy. Make every problem or thought that's mine *his*, too. Once I thought taking him to see Aunt Ellie would satisfy his craving to -- (Grandma Barksdale gets a cloudy look on her face.) AMY: -- know more about me, but instead it just increased it. (Bt) Helen, Joel calling you about our argument a while back was a prime example. (Beat) HELEN: (subdued) Oh. (Beat) RITA: But aren't you *supposed* to share everything with your boyfriend when you've been dating for so long? AMY: I don't know. You tell me. RITA: I wouldn't know. (Beat) AMY: Well in my case, I just kept feeling that if I shared *everything* with Joel, I'd lose my individuality. (Pause) But even so, I wonder if I've made a mistake, breaking up with him. I mean view him as a whole, and his good qualities far outweigh his not-so-good. (Pause. quiet) A lot of times, I *did* want to tell him things I hadn't told anyone else. (long Pause. Amy heaves a sigh.) AMY: But this pressure to satisfy him felt too much like living up to Dad's standards. (quietly defiant and resolute) And I told myself long ago that I'd never *ever* end up with a guy who couldn't accept me the way I was. (Pause) HELEN: (subdued) So then there's no chance that...? (Beat. Amy shakes her head slowly.) AMY: Maybe if we'd stayed together and really worked on it, we could have found a compromise... but I didn't want to take the risk and be wrong. (long Pause. Amy closes her eyes again, the expression on her face both sad and ashamed. Helen and Rita watch her, then appear to lapse into their own thoughts. Grandma Barksdale gazes at all three of them with a pensive expression. Finally: ) AMY: (mumbling, almost to herself) So if I've seemed to disrespect Dad's memory the past couple of days, that's the main reason. (Pause) I'm sorry. I know you all loved Dad just the way he was... (long Pause) RITA: (hushed) Geez, I thought I was the only one. (Amy opens her eyes. She and Helen look at Rita, surprised.) HELEN: One who what? (Beat) RITA: Who tried to avoid ending up with someone like Dad. Why do you think I date the kind of men I do? (Pause. She shrugs, and also gets an ashamed look on her face. Amy smirks faintly with relief. Then Helen sighs.) HELEN: (quiet) That was the main reason why I married Jake. (Pause) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 5 (Morgendorffer house, at that same time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria walking over to her phone, with Quinn following. They both sit down on Daria's bed. As Daria's picking up the receiver: ) QUINN: So why don't you just call Mom an' tell her Dad *wimped* out an' now he wants her home? DARIA: Sorry. No can do. QUINN: Why *not*?? DARIA: 'Cause me speaking for Dad won't settle what's at the heart of their argument. He has to figure out how to do it himself. QUINN: So who're you calling, then? (Daria sighs.) DARIA: The last people on earth I want to talk to... (fade-out. fade-in to a short time later. Daria's got her ear to the receiver, while Quinn's listening with anticipation.) DARIA: So you'll help us, Mr. and Mrs. Gupty? (Cut to shot of Mr. and Mrs. Gupty, both holding phones the way they were in "Pinch Sitter.") MR. GUPTY: Hmm, although we have reservations -- MRS. GUPTY: We still hold you responsible for Tad and Tricia's unfortunate turn to the dark side. MR. GUPTY: -- as Couples Therapy leaders for the month, we feel it our duty to help those most in need. MRS. GUPTY: And *you* more than anyone else need a stable family structure. (Pause) MRS. GUPTY: I mean -- (Cut to shot of Daria and Quinn.) DARIA: (ignoring her implications) So what d' you plan to do? (Cut to split screen with Daria and Quinn on the right, and the Guptys on the left.) MR. GUPTY: Well, your father's problem sounds like a classic case of *displacement psychosis*. DARIA: *Excuse* me? MR. GUPTY: We'll fill you in when we come by to see your father this evening. DARIA: You're coming *here*? MRS. GUPTY: Of course! Nothing like that warm-and-fuzzy feeling you get from talking to someone in person. DARIA: O-kay. MR. GUPTY: Don't worry, Daria. Your family crisis will be solved. The Guptys are on the way! DARIA: Great. (Cut to full screen. Daria slowly lays the phone back on its cradle. Turns to Quinn.) DARIA: So when the divorce takes place, maybe we can work out an arrangement to see one parent on holidays and weekends. **************** END OF ACT TWO [Shot of Amy preparing to walk out on Helen, Rita, and Grandma Barksdale.] ***You are now entering commercial *HELL*. Please keep your seat belt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.*** 1) Anything Pokémon. *Please*, someone, explain to me the appeal of these anime blobs. [Peter Guerin, do you read me?] The craze for Pokémon almost equals the inexplicable craze for Beanie Babies a while back. Beanie... wha-- huh? What were those things again?? 2) Back to school commercials... I don't even go to school-school any more, and they still fill me with dread. No matter how hip they try to make notebooks look -- with flashy colors and attractive young people dancing around -- you know what they represent. Please folks, don't even bother... it's like trying to make a sow's ear into a silk purse. 3) In a commercial break for "Cheered Down," I criticized babies acting like adults. Now here's Part Two: little kids acting like adults. Recently I watched one where two kids were critiquing a cartoon on the W.B., Siskel & Ebert-style. They were sitting in front of a large movie screen, talking in affected voices, "Oh har-har, that was *so* exquisite," etc. Again I say: what's wrong with having little kids *be* little kids? Did the network heads think no one would watch the cartoon unless they got kids to sound like adults?? Well, I didn't intend for this to be the pre-adolescent block, but it sort of turned into one... :-) ***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?*** ACT THREE SCENE 1 (Barksdale house, continuing from where we left off) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen, Rita, Amy, and Grandma Barksdale in the living room. After Rita and Helen's revelations, Grandma Barksdale's face has become impassive.) HELEN: (continuing. resigned) Who would want to put up with someone who, without warning, can launch an attack on all your weaknesses?? (Bt. stealthy glance at her mother.) Dammit, I spent *years* trying to live up to Daddy's standards, and it just never felt like I could do enough. (Pause. Amy and Rita gaze at her, astonished.) RITA: B-but you were always so close to Dad. AMY: You two always seemed to talk on the same level. (Helen sighs.) HELEN: I know. (Bt) Like you said, I loved Dad, and we *were* close, but there was something about him I had to get away from. (All three of them now glance at Grandma Barksdale.) HELEN: Sorry, Mother. (Beat) GRANDMA: (cryptic) Are you, Helen? (Helen glances at her for a second longer, then shakes her head and turns back to Rita and Amy.) HELEN: When I met Jake, I knew that in spite of his *bizarre* fits of rage, he would never hurt anyone's feelings. He was like a big... a big puppy. (Bt. gets a depressed look on her face.) And until yesterday, I'd forgotten what it was like to be criticized and have your feelings get hurt. (Pause) I guess because *I'd* gotten so used to being the one who does the criticizing. (Pause) AMY: You're not as bad as he was, Helen. (Beat) HELEN: You mean Jake?? AMY: I mean Dad. (Beat. Helen's face brightens a tad.) HELEN: I'm not? AMY: No. (Bt) 'Cause for starters, you seem to know how to step back and examine your behavior. (gestures at Helen to indicate what she was just doing.) I don't think Dad could ever do that. (Helen glances at Rita, who raises her brows in a "She's probably right" manner.) AMY: What's more (manages a smirk) you know how to let yourself go. HELEN: (face brightening further) I *do*? AMY: Yeah. (Bt. cocks a brow) You toss a mean flan when you want to. (At this reference, Rita's face clouds over a little.) HELEN: I *do*, don't I?? (Bt) Well it helps to have your sense of sibling *righteousness* tweaked. AMY: Lousy little punk... HELEN: He got what he deserved... (They share a conspiratorial chuckle, which helps ease their depression to an extent. Rita rolls her eyes.) RITA: (a slight edge) Gee, sounds like you two had a *ball* when you got together a while back. (Beat. Helen and Amy glance at each other.) AMY: Well... it *started* well... HELEN: And ended, um, *not* so well... (Beat) RITA: That's a shame. (says it like she doesn't think so.) (Pause. Helen and Amy frown at her.) HELEN: Just what are you *getting* at, Rita? AMY: Yeah, Reet -- why the sudden mood shift? RITA: Oh *please*! (Bt) How do you think it makes me feel to see how well my *older* sister and my *younger* sister have hit it off? How you have your little secrets and your *feel-good* moments -- HELEN: Rita, you're being *ridiculous*. Nothing *that* significant happened while Amy came to visit. AMY: Yeah. Helen and I were fighting like cats and dogs by the time I left. RITA: So? Would it've occurred to either one of you to come out and visit *me*?? (Beat) HELEN: (uneasy laugh) Oh-ho-ho, of *course* it would... AMY: It was just... Helen called me... (Beat) RITA: (glowering) You two are both *liars*. (Bt) Neither of you would've ever come to see me. You don't think I'm good enough. (Beat. Both Helen and Amy's eyes widen.) HELEN: What do you *mean* not "good enough"?? RITA: I mean you both have your *fancy* degrees and good jobs. You can relate to each other, and you don't need sorry little *me* -- (Amy can't suppress the urge to roll her eyes. Helen frowns.) HELEN: Rita, would you *listen* to what you're saying?? Why are you rushing to assume things about which you have *no* proof?? RITA: I don't need hard evidence -- I can just *feel* it. (Bt. resentful) Dammit, I'm not the pretty, empty-headed little twit you think I am. *I* could've been something, too. HELEN: (rolling her eyes) Then what *stopped* you?? RITA: *No* encouragement, that's what. (Bt) You two complain that Dad got angry at you. At least he *did* something to you. He never did *anything* for me. HELEN: What do you *mean*?? Dad was *always* good to you. RITA: He'd pat me on the head and say, "Oh be a good girl and go marry someone." And that was *it*. (Beat. Grandma Barksdale rolls her eyes and presses her lips together. Helen and Amy remain silent, letting Rita's words sink in.) RITA: I was never told to go *be* somebody, and now it's too late: I'm getting left out in the cold because my sisters think they're *better* than me. (Beat) AMY: (frowning) Don't you think there's a little more to it than that?? HELEN: *Yes*, it's not as though we were *friends* growing up. RITA: So?? Neither were you and Amy, and look at you *now*. HELEN: Oh *come* on -- AMY: (to Rita. voice rising a little in anger) You really think after all you put me through when we were young, I could be *your* friend?? (She and Rita glare at each other. Then suddenly Grandma Barksdale lets out a sharp, sarcastic chuckle and puts a hand to her forehead. Her daughters gaze at her, startled.) RITA: What is it, Mother? HELEN: (with some irritation) Yes, Mother -- you've been awfully *quiet* for a while, and that isn't like you. What are you thinking? (Beat) GRANDMA: Oh, you don't want to know. (Beat. Helen, Rita, and Amy look at each other.) AMY: (to Grandma. slowly) Well why don't you tell us, anyway? (Beat) GRANDMA: Very well. (Bt) You girls are just *unbelievable*, is what I think. The way you just *whine* and bicker, I can't get through to you at all. (Pause. Her daughters look at her, not knowing what to say. Amy and Helen look sort of ashamed, while Rita wears an "Even *me*?" expression.) GRANDMA: And it breaks my heart to hear you blame your father for everything gone *wrong* in your lives. I just wish he were here to defend himself. (Pause) AMY: (quiet) Would you rather we'd kept it to ourselves? (Pause. Grandma Barksdale sighs, not able to come up with a response.) HELEN: (sober) You might as well know the truth, Mother, no matter how unkind it may be. (Beat) GRANDMA: The *truth*? (another sarcastic chuckle) Helen, sweetheart, you're nowhere near the truth. (Bt) The truth, as *I* saw it, was that your father was a good man who tried to do his best for all of us. He didn't have an easy life, you know. (Bt) When he was young, his own father used to hit him a lot -- RITA: (quiet) Dad never told us that. (Helen and Amy shake their heads in agreement.) GRANDMA: Well maybe he *should* have. But then again, that wasn't his way. (Bt) Look, I'll admit to all of you that being married to him wasn't easy. Sometimes *I* found his perfectionism very hard to take. But he wasn't *evil* and he didn't make you three what you are. (Bt) Honestly -- sometimes I can't believe how *spoiled* you've become. (Beat) HELEN: (somewhat defensive) What do you mean "spoiled"? (Beat) GRANDMA: I'm referring to your *selfishness*. Not one of you can think beyond yourselves. (Bt) Yesterday, you were so busy worrying about getting *embarrassed* by a few old neighbors, I don't believe any of you even said, "Happy anniversary" to me. (Pause. Helen and Amy get somewhat guilty expressions on their faces. Rita looks a little hurt.) RITA: (quiet) But Mother -- GRANDMA: And *yes*, Helen, I *know* your father was only alive for *thirty-eight* of our last fifty years. But just because he's not here doesn't mean I've stopped loving him. You of *all* people should know that. (Beat. Helen absorbs this comment meekly.) RITA: But Mother, I was the one who planned your party. (Pause) GRANDMA: (a bit hesitant) I know, Rita. That was very sweet of you. (Bt) And I would have been quite happy with it... if I'd wanted one in the first place. (Bt) You never asked me. (Pause. Now Rita looks really depressed. Helen sees this, and, in spite of herself, comes to her defense.) HELEN: (annoyed) Mother, don't you think you're being a little *overly* sensitive?? GRANDMA: (coolly) I don't know, Helen. You tell me. (Bt) How would *you* like it if you knew your eldest child was plotting to swindle you out of money to pay for your granddaughters' colleges?? Never mind that all she had to do was *ask*. (Pause. Helen wilts, unable think of a suitable response. Grandma Barksdale turns to Rita.) GRANDMA: (in a gentler tone) And the same would apply to Erin had she chosen the college route. (Bt) But Rita, darling: as much as I'd like to be there to help you with your problems... I can't drop *everything* to come to your aid. Your last break-up forced me to miss a golf tournament. (Pause. Rita lowers her face a little. Grandma Barksdale leans over and pats her cheek with reassuring affection. Then she turns to Amy.) GRANDMA: (in a hard tone) And as for *you*, Amy: (her own face takes on a somewhat wounded expression.) what *possible* excuse could you have for hiding a boyfriend from me for over *two* years?? (Pause. Amy gazes at her mother for a few seconds, then averts her eyes, also unable to come up with a response.) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 2 (Morgendorffer house, evening) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria sitting on the left hand couch in the living room. She seems frustrated, and periodically checks her watch. Suddenly we hear the sound of the doorbell. Daria turns and starts to get up, but before she can walk over, Jake comes downstairs to the front door.) JAKE: Who could that be? DARIA: Don't ask. (Bt) Um, Dad, just to warn you -- (Jake opens the door, and we see Mr. and Mrs. Gupty standing on the front porch.) JAKE: Hey Lester! Hey Lauren! What brings *you* by? (Mr. Gupty puts a hand on Jake's shoulder.) MR. GUPTY: (serious) Jake, we're here to extend our services on behalf of the Couples Therapy group. JAKE: But I thought you two'd left because you'd found the key to a happy marriage. MR. GUPTY: We had, but then we realized that our example could benefit couples from miles around, for years to come. (Meanwhile, Daria has come over and is standing next to Jake. She cocks an eyelid at these last words.) MRS. GUPTY: We would've been here sooner, but we had to stop and counsel another couple in need. I think you might know them. (Bt. looks outside, giggles and waves a hand.) Oh *break* it up, you two! (Pause. We then see Erin and Brian come up to the Guptys, looking somewhat disheveled.) ERIN: (cheerful) Hi Uncle Jake, Daria. DARIA: (eyes wide, startled) Erin and Brian?? JAKE: Say, what're you kids doing here? (As he asks this, we see Quinn coming downstairs. She takes one look at Erin, freezes, then bolts right back up again.) ERIN: (oblivious) We just came by to see how you were doing. JAKE: (straining to sound enthused) Um, great! Couldn't be better! ERIN: Uncle Jake, don't lie. We know you want to make up with Aunt Helen. BRIAN: We think the Guptys could help you with your problems. DARIA: (sardonic) And just how did the Guptys help *you*? BRIAN: (with none of the sulkiness he displayed earlier) They've just saved our marriage, that's how. DARIA: *Do* tell. MR. GUPTY: It's very simple, really -- ERIN: (gushy) Oh please, let *me* explain! (Bt. turns to Daria, her voice taking on the tone one might find in an infomercial.) You see, Brian and I were adrift. We just couldn't communicate. It was like he was from Mars, and I was from Venus. BRIAN: (also infomercial-like) Our breaking point occurred about a half-hour ago, when I saw Erin eyeing some skinny-ass rock musician in torn pants at a gas station. ERIN: I was almost ready to leave my marriage just so I could run my fingers through his shiny black hair, when the Guptys' car pulled up right alongside ours. (Bt) After talking to them, I realized that my behavior resembled a denial-psychosis spiral, with undercurrents of hostility and just a pinch of lust. BRIAN: While I saw that I was hampered by the chains of paternal aggressivitis, *and* that I was in a no-trust zone. ERIN: The Guptys just put everything into perspective! DARIA: (deadpan) Oh I can see. ERIN: And if they could save our marriage, the Guptys can save *yours*, Uncle Jake. MR. GUPTY: Yes, Jake. We can help you get in touch with your feelings about Helen. MRS. GUPTY: But only if you *choose* to be helped. (Pause. Jake looks a little thrown by all these revelations. He just stands there for a few seconds. Then he scrunches up his face with thought. Finally: ) JAKE: (hesitant) Well... okay. What can it hurt? MR. GUPTY: That's the spirit! MRS. GUPTY: And in case you feel like breaking the ice with a little "Kum Ba Ya," I brought my guitar. JAKE: Hey, neat! (Daria rolls her eyes and groans softly.) DARIA: (thought voice-over) The fact that I did not see this coming can only mean one thing: I must be losing my touch. (cut to: ) SCENE 3 (Barksdale house, at that same time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen, Rita, and Amy sitting in the living room, poking at leftover food from the anniversary party. Grandma Barksdale's disappeared into the kitchen to make tea. All three seem pretty worn-out, and Helen keeps eyeing the phone, which lies nearby.) HELEN: You know, home's starting to sound pretty good right now. (She reaches toward the phone as if prepared to use it, then thinks otherwise. Slowly lets her arm drop. Pause) RITA: (to Helen. neutral-toned, weary) So, would *you* say we were "spoiled"? (Pause) HELEN: (sober) Probably. (this whole situation feels *very* familiar to her.) (Rita sighs.) HELEN: Well she had a point: Dad certainly didn't cause us to act toward each other the way we do. (Bt) And we won't settle anything by blaming him. (Rita and Amy nod.) RITA: I didn't realize we got under Mother's skin like that. It's not as though she ever said anything. (Beat) HELEN: Right. (Bt) Well look, the woman may have her faults, but I think she deserves an apology from all of us. (Rita nods. Amy cocks an eyebrow. A few seconds later, Grandma Barksdale reappears, looking only marginally as cross as she did that afternoon. Settles into her chair.) GRANDMA: There *has* to be something worthwhile on television tonight. (Pause. Helen and Rita exchange meaningful glances.) HELEN: Mother? GRANDMA: Mmm-hmm? (takes a sip of tea.) (Helen sighs.) HELEN: Mother, we're sorry for the way we've been behaving. (Beat) RITA: We'll try to be more thoughtful of you in the future. At least *I* will. (Grandma Barksdale raises her brows and smirks vaguely at them. Helen and Rita then glance pointedly at Amy.) AMY: I don't know if I'm sorry. (Her sisters' eyes widen.) HELEN: Amy! (sends her a murderous glance, which Amy ignores.) (Unsurprised, Grandma Barksdale sets her mug down on a side table.) GRANDMA: And why not, Amy? AMY: (somewhat defiant) Because when I think about it, not telling you about something in my life's become almost second nature to me. (Beat) GRANDMA: (an edge in her voice) Why is that? AMY: Because... (Bt) Look, Mom, you may feel you've been persecuted by our behavior, but it's not as though you didn't bring some of it on yourself. (Beat. Helen and Rita glance at each other uneasily.) GRANDMA: Oh really? AMY: (frowning) Yes. Really. (Bt) I can't speak for them (gestures at her sisters), but *my* behavior was motivated by the fact that in the past, anything important to me pretty much got the brush-off from you. (Beat) GRANDMA: (irritated, and a little condescending) Oh? AMY: (frowning darker) Or else you'd side with Dad and tell me it was just plain wrong. GRANDMA: (faux innocent) Goodness, does that mean I'm as bad as Daddy? (Pause. Amy looks slightly hurt by her implications.) AMY: No. It just means you aren't a saint. (Bt) Mom, I know you think we're exaggerating about what Dad did to us growing up, but we're not. *I'm* not at least. (Bt) I wasn't exaggerating then, just like I'm not exaggerating now about my relationship with you. (Pause She waits for a reply, doesn't get any.) AMY: (sounding weary) And so that's why I never said anything to you about Joel. Because I didn't know if I could trust you to... I didn't know if I could trust you. (Pause. Grandma Barksdale doesn't have any significant reaction to these words other than to rub her eyes and look sort of tired.) GRANDMA: All right, Amy, well done. You've made your point. (Bt) Aunt Eleanor would be proud. (Beat) AMY: What does *she* have to do with it? GRANDMA: I don't know... you two were so close, she probably suggested to you at some point how lovely it'd be if you told off your mother. AMY: (rolling her eyes) I didn't see it as "telling you off" -- just as being honest. And Aunt Ellie didn't put me up to anything. (Bt. anger creeping in) And why do you always have to talk about her like some *rash* you're trying to get rid of?? GRANDMA: Rash? (Bt. somewhat condescending) Sweetheart, you exaggerate. AMY: Oh really?? Your goddamn *half*-sister?! GRANDMA: Now, now, language... AMY: Oh come *off* it, Mother! Dammit, you always thought you were too good for her. (Beat) GRANDMA: (chilly tone) Well how about *this*, Amy? How would you feel if your youngest daughter preferred the company of your *sister*?? If she told your *sister* things you wished she'd tell you? (Pause. Amy looks a bit startled. She then glances over briefly in Helen's direction.) AMY: (weary) But... you never seemed to care. And you never *said* anything. (Pause. Then Grandma Barksdale lets out a sharp chuckle.) GRANDMA: Well maybe I *should* have. (Pause. Helen sighs noiselessly and looks with longing at the phone.) (cut to: ) SCENE 4 (Morgendorffer house, at that same time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to close-up shot of the phone unplugged. Cut to wider shot of Daria staring at it. She frowns, then walks toward the living room, where we see Erin, Brian, and Mrs. Gupty sitting on the left hand couch, Quinn on the right hand couch, and Jake on the center couch with Mr. Gupty. Jake is blindfolded, and Mrs. Gupty is in the midst of strumming a feel-good melody.) DARIA: Um, was it really *necessary* to disconnect the phone? What if Mom wants to get though? MR. GUPTY: Daria, Daria... your father needs *total* concentration. (Bt) Now Jake, where were we? JAKE: Visualize... MR. GUPTY: That's right! (Bt) Now remember, you're in a safe place, with *all* your family and friends around you. DARIA: (rolling her eyes) He's just gonna figure out how to assert himself to Mom, not -- JAKE: *Eap*!! MR. GUPTY: (in a somewhat less gentle tone) Daria *please*! Don't give your father a setback. (Bt) Now it's all *right*, Jake. Just visualize the things that make you *happy*, okay? JAKE: Okay. (Pause) Ooh, marshmallow squares! MR. GUPTY: Um, uh-huh. MRS. GUPTY: If you need me to play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" one more time, I will. JAKE: Naw... that's okay. MR. GUPTY: Good. It sounds as though you're becoming centered. (Bt) Now envision yourself a strong, confident man. One who is completely sure of his thoughts *and* his feelings. JAKE: Okay... (Pause. Meanwhile, Daria has taken a seat on the right hand couch, next to Quinn. She and Quinn exchange looks of guarded optimism.) JAKE: Hey, it's working! (Bt) Wow, I feel great! MR. GUPTY: Excellent! (Bt) Now envision yourself Jake Morgendorffer, a strong, confident man, walking up to Helen and telling her *exactly* what's on your mind. MRS. GUPTY: In a *sensitive* way, of course. (Beat. Jake takes a deep breath.) JAKE: Okay. (Pause. does little arm motions to suggest he's walking.) Hey Helen, sweetheart! It's great to see ya! (Bt) You know, I was thinking that you should know... um, you um... (Daria, Quinn, and the rest watch him with some apprehension.) JAKE: (tone faltering) Gosh honey, you're, um, looking sorta different, aren't you? Is it just me or... are you getting big-ger... um... *Eek*!! (starts shuddering) MR. GUPTY: Jake! What is it?! JAKE: (to imaginary Helen) I'll never defy you again, honey! *Please* don't shoot me!! (He shudders so hard, he falls off the couch. Mr. Gupty reaches down and shakes him back to consciousness.) MR. GUPTY: Jake, Jake! It's all right! You're safe, now. JAKE: (mumbling) Helen... she had a u-uniform an' a... big ma-machine gun p-pointed right... MR. GUPTY: It was just a fantasy, Jake. Now let's sit down calmly and discuss it. (Jake nods slowly. They settle back onto the couch.) MR. GUPTY: Now you said you saw Helen in a uniform with a *machine* gun? JAKE: Sh-she was a soldier, or... some-thing... (takes a deep breath.) (Beat) MRS. GUPTY: Now what made you draw upon that image, of all the many you could have chosen? BRIAN: (hushed) Well Helen *is* pretty... (sees Erin give him a wary look, then closes his mouth.) JAKE: I don't know -- she was never in the army. (Bt) But her father was. MR. GUPTY: And how might her father relate to all this? (Beat) JAKE: I don't know... they were always a lot alike. (Bt. thoughtful) They both reminded me of teachers I looked up to in military school. Real confident, always knew what they wanted. I always liked to be around them, because I thought I could... learn from them. (Bt. meek) I could never stand up to *my* father. MR. GUPTY: (rushed, recognizing the danger if Jake got on a "Mad Dog" tangent) So your primary attraction to Helen stemmed from her soldier-like qualities? JAKE: I... guess so. (Bt) Truth is, I knew I wanted to marry her from the moment I met her dad. Guess that was wrong, wasn't it? (Daria and Quinn exchange vaguely worried glances. Mr. Gupty seems unperturbed.) MR. GUPTY: Wrong? Hardly. (Bt) Jake, that's what the experts call *displacement* psychosis -- where you let one person represent another in your mind. Very common amongst those with low self-esteem. JAKE: Oh. (Bt. meek) Problem is, as much as I've admired Helen *and* her dad, I've never learned how to be like them. I was always too afraid. (Bt. to Daria and Quinn) Gee, I'd forgotten how scary Grandpa Barksdale could be when I was using the tough approach on you guys. DARIA: (deadpan) Really? JAKE: Yeah. (Pause) So... I guess that means I can never speak my mind to Helen. (He gets a really depressed look, and Daria and Quinn exchange full-fledged worried glances. Still, the Guptys seem unperturbed.) MR. GUPTY: Oh, that depends, Jake. JAKE: On *what*? MRS. GUPTY: On whether you married Helen simply because she reminded you of a military officer. (Beat) JAKE: Well gee... (Pause. face brightens a tad) No! (Bt) Of course I didn't! MR. GUPTY: Excellent, Jake! We didn't think so. JAKE: Like for instance, she does the *cutest* little thing with her -- MR. GUPTY: Er, Jake, that's all right. You can keep it to yourself. (Bt) So now all you have to do when you talk to Helen is remember the *other* parts of her that you love. MRS. GUPTY: And that she's not a monster. (Pause) JAKE: (joyous) By gum, you're right! She's *not* a monster, is she?! Thank you so much -- you've really helped me see clearly! (Bt) I think I'll go call Helen right now... (He runs toward the phone. Mr. Gupty turns to Mrs. Gupty.) MR. GUPTY: Well I believe our work here is done. MRS. GUPTY: Ten-for-ten couples. We're batting a thousand, Big L! (Quinn leans toward Daria.) QUINN: I can't believe that New Age psycho-crap actually *worked*! DARIA: (to the Guptys. sardonic) Gee, maybe you two should market a line of self-help videos. MR. & MRS. GUPTY: (giving it serious thought) Hmmmmm... (cut to: ) SCENE 6 (Barksdale house, that same time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen sitting alone in the living room -- her mother and sisters have scattered to the far corners of the house. She's holding the phone and looking extremely frustrated.) HELEN: Dammit, it's still busy! (Bt) I can only *imagine* what kind of trouble Jake got himself and the girls int-- (stops abruptly when she remembers what she said earlier that day. gets an ashamed look on her face and puts the phone back on the hook.) (Cut to shot of Jake standing in the kitchen with Daria. He clicks off the phone , wearing the same frustrated expression.) JAKE: (to Daria) Oh no! It's still busy! DARIA: Just be patient, Dad. You'll get through. JAKE: (nodding rapidly) You're right, you're right. Patient. (He takes a cleansing Zen breath, waits. Suddenly, he can't stand it any longer -- punches a couple buttons, including autodial. Daria cocks an eyelid. Pause) JAKE: It's ringing! DARIA: Told you so. (Resume shot of Helen. She lunges for the phone and answers it after the first ring.) HELEN: Hello?! (Beat) JAKE: (from the receiver) Helen? HELEN: Jakey?? (Cut to split screen with Helen on the left, Jake and Daria on the right.) JAKE: (to Daria) She called me "Jakey"! HELEN: Huh? DARIA: I'll leave you two alone. (walks off screen.) JAKE: (slightly panicked) Wait, no wait... (He slumps over once he realizes he has no choice but to talk to Helen by himself. Meanwhile Helen's still looking frustrated.) HELEN: Jake, what's going *on*? (Jake sighs and looks as though he's trying to stay Zen.) JAKE: (whisper) Visualize... (Bt. normal tone) Um, hi honey. How're you doing? (Beat) HELEN: (sober) All right. And you? JAKE: Great. *Um*, I mean, um... (Pause) JAKE: Aw *hell*, sweetheart -- HELEN: (at the same time) Jakey, I have to conf-- JAKE: Aw honey, I've missed you! (Beat) HELEN: (crooning) Oh Jakey, I've missed you, too. JAKE: I want you to come home. HELEN: And I want to *come* home. (Bt) At the very least because all my business suits are there. (looks down at her outfit.) God, I can't wear *this* to work... JAKE: Great! So far so good... HELEN: (mildly exasperated) What does that mean? JAKE: It means... aw nothing. (Bt) Look Helen, there're two things I gotta say. First, I'm sorry I called you a "tyrant" yesterday. HELEN: (touched) Oh Jake... JAKE: You're not *really* that bad. (Beat. Helen sighs.) HELEN: Maybe not, but I *can* be pretty harsh, I'll admit. (Bt) And I wasn't very nice to you yesterday. JAKE: Well not like I didn't give you any reason... (Bt. takes another Zen breath.) But um, there's something else I gotta tell ya. Um, I *did* mean what I said about wanting more responsibility around the house. Like with the girls. (Jake cringes a little, as if expecting the worst. Helen appears to be mulling his words over. Pause) HELEN: Well Jake... I think that'd be... a good idea. JAKE: It *would*?! (Pause. Helen takes a deep breath, as if trying to let go of something.) HELEN: Well why not? (Bt) It's your house, too. And you are, um, the girls' father. JAKE: Darn right! And I've already learned all *kinds* of stuff about them. (Bt) I learned their middle names! HELEN: They have *middle* names?? JAKE: Yeah! (Beat) HELEN: (sincere) Wow, Jake, I'm so impressed. JAKE: I'm impressed, too! (Bt. hesitant) So you'd be all right... if I made more decisions about them? (Beat) HELEN: (weary smirk) Well... you've shown you can do this much. I *would* like to see what else you can do. JAKE: *Fantastic*! (calling off screen) Hey, she says she believes in me! (Bt. to Helen) I won't let you down, sweetheart. HELEN: (suddenly crooning-affectionate) Oh Jakey-poo, I know you won't. JAKE: (also crooning) Sweetie-pie... HELEN: Papa bear... JAKE: Helen-melon... (Bt) Gosh, I feel like driving over to pick you up *right* now! (Beat) HELEN: (hesitant. looking at the clock) Um, right *now*? (Beat) JAKE: Oh yeah... I guess nine p.m. *is* sort of a late start. (Bt) But first thing tomorrow, I promise! HELEN: (chuckling) All right. (She's relieved, as well as impressed, that she didn't have to restrain Jake from doing something rash. He knew how to do it himself.) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 7 (Barksdale house, Monday morning) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen pacing around by the front door, waiting for Jake's car, while Rita's on the phone reconciling with Jimmy.) (Cut to shot of Amy and Grandma Barksdale in the kitchen. Grandma Barksdale's standing at the stove in the background, boiling water for tea, while Amy sits at the table in the foreground, struggling to grind coffee beans. There's a palpable silence between them, one that you think will never be broken. Finally Amy breaks it.) AMY: I'm really glad for Helen. (Pause) GRANDMA: So am I. (long Pause) AMY: Well you, Rita, and I fulfilled our objective. (Bt) Even if we didn't do anything. (Pause) GRANDMA: I wouldn't say that. (Beat) AMY: What do you mean? All we did was get on each other's nerves. (Beat) GRANDMA: Well, it made Helen want to come home, didn't it? (Amy lets out a slight chuckle.) AMY: True. (Beat) GRANDMA: And you *did* manage to avoid killing each other, didn't you? AMY: Very true. (Bt) And Helen and Rita proved they could get along for short periods of time. Although a lot of it came from ganging up on *me*. (At that, both she and Grandma Barksdale share a tension-easing chuckle. Pause) AMY: (quieter) And, um, I guess we did... get a lot in the open. (Pause) GRANDMA: (reflective) Yes. We certainly did. (long Pause) AMY: Mom? GRANDMA: Mmm-hmm? AMY: I'm, um... I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Joel sooner. (Grandma Barksdale pauses in her tea-making and looks at her daughter with vague surprise.) AMY: This may seem like too little, too late, but during the time we were going out, I kept meaning to say something. But there never seemed to be a right time... (Pause. Grandma Barksdale cocks a brow with wry resignation.) GRANDMA: Well... better late than never. (Pause. Amy smirks slightly and cocks a brow back at her. Then she turns serious.) AMY: And what you said about Aunt Ellie -- I didn't know *that* was the reason you two were... (Beat) GRANDMA: Hmph. (admitting) Well, I guess it's only fair to say that there *was* more to our estrangement than that. (Beat) AMY: Like I said... you just never seemed to care. (Pause) GRANDMA: (quiet) You seemed so happy with her, I thought I'd be getting in the way. (long Pause. Both she and Amy reflect upon this statement. Then Grandma Barksdale gets a contrite look on her face.) GRANDMA: I could have said something, though. At least where your father was concerned. (Pause. Amy looks at her questioningly.) GRANDMA: (with difficulty) I did... see some of the things he did... (Pause) It would make me so angry sometimes... (long Pause. Amy gazes at her for a few seconds, letting the words sink in. Grandma Barksdale gazes back at her. They both realize the significance of such an opportunity lost. Then Amy looks away.) AMY: (quiet) I wasn't lying when I said I loved Dad. (Beat) GRANDMA: I know... I told you I knew... (Pause. Amy forces a slight chuckle.) AMY: It feels a lot better than hating him. (Pause. Grandma Barksdale smirks faintly and gives an agreeing nod.) AMY: Anyway, it's in the past, now. (Pause) And right now, facing the present is hard enough. (Pause) GRANDMA: Amy? (Beat) AMY: Yeah? (Beat) GRANDMA: You said you weren't sure if the young man that you left reminded you of Daddy? (Beat) AMY: I... well I said they were similar. (Beat) GRANDMA: Well perhaps you could wait until you're absolutely sure. (Pause. Amy furrows her brows uncomprehendingly, then gets a thoughtful look on her face. Before she can respond, we here the sound of tires squealing off screen.) HELEN: (off screen) Ooh-ooh-ooh -- they're here! (Sound of the front door opening and slamming. Amy smirks.) AMY: Apparently so. GRANDMA: (reverting back to her usual crustiness) *Honestly*, that man should get his license revoked. (Pause. Amy stands up, intending to go toward the front door.) AMY: Mom? One last thing? GRANDMA: Yes? (Beat) AMY: What's *Boo-boo*?? I mean, where did you get that nickname from? (Bt. smirks) Watch a little too much "Yogi Bear" one afternoon? (Beat) GRANDMA: (vague surprise) It was your first word. (Pause) AMY: Oh. (Bt. rolls her eyes in an amused, sheepish manner.) Well that figures... (She leaves to go outside.) (cut to: ) SCENE 8 (front yard) (Shot of the yard and the driveway. Helen's approaching the car, and we see that Daria and Quinn have already emerged, looking as wasted as they did at the beginning of this tale. They come up to Helen and sort of collapse against her.) DARIA & QUINN: Hi... Mom. HELEN: Ohhhhhh... (does the motherly smooching of the heads, which Daria and Quinn are too tired to resist.) (Meanwhile, we see that Jake's door is partially open, and that he appears to be pawing around underneath the front seat.) JAKE: C'mon you *stupid*... ah-ha! (lifts his head, bumps it on the steering wheel.) *Gah*!! HELEN: (concerned) Jakey? (Jake emerges, rubbing his head and hiding something behind his back. Walks over to Helen.) JAKE: Hey honey, I've got a surprise for you. (He holds out Helen's cell phone, which Helen snatches and cradles like a newborn baby.) HELEN: Oh Jakey, that's so *sweet* -- (the phone starts ringing.) (She holds it up and looks at it for a couple of seconds. Clicks the "on" button as if about to respond -- then just as quickly turns the phone off to silence it. Looks at Jake, cocks an amorous eyebrow. They start to kiss.) (Cut to Daria and Quinn's eye level. The kissing sounds, off screen, cause Quinn to revive and assume a look of horror.) QUINN: Ewwwwww!!! (She bolts toward the house. Daria remains behind a few seconds longer, but soon she, too, finds the intensifying kissing sounds too much to take. Shudders a little, and walks toward the front door. There we see Amy standing off to the side, as she has been unobtrusively for most of this scene. She notes Daria's repulsed expression.) AMY: (amused) Aw, they're cute. (Bt) They've both suffered long enough to deserve it. (Beat. Daria shrugs.) DARIA: I suppose. (Pause. Amy and Daria look at each other. They both recall their last words in the den, and are wondering what to say next. Finally Daria smirks sheepishly.) DARIA: You know, I was thinking: after all the crap my parents have gone through, maybe you were on to something when you said adult relationships aren't for young ears. (Beat) AMY: (smirking) Maybe. Although in your case, it's because you're too *mature*. (They both chuckle softly.) AMY: Look, that was a cop-out response, and I'm sorry. (Bt) Truth be known, I was suffering from a lot of personal hang-ups that made me too afraid to talk about my boyfriend. DARIA: I thought as much. (Amy gives her a "hardy-har" expression.) AMY: *Also*, a part of me thought: what if she met the guy and liked him, and then I broke up with him? *Then* what would she think of me?? (Beat) DARIA: (surprised) Why would you think things'd be different? (Beat) AMY: (rolling her eyes amusedly) I don't know why. It sounds pretty silly, doesn't it? (Beat. Daria shrugs nonchalantly.) DARIA: So you really think your ex-boyfriend and I would've hit it off? AMY: Oh yeah. You two have a lot in common. DARIA: Guess I'll just have to imagine what that would've been like. (Pause) AMY: I don't know. Maybe not. DARIA: What do you mean? AMY: I mean... (Pause) Well let's put it this way: I can't predict what's going to happen between him and me, but you may get to meet him yet. (Beat. Daria cocks an eyelid with interest.) DARIA: I may hold you to that. (Bt. glances at the front door.) Well, I s'pose I should go inside and say hello to Grandma. (smirks wickedly.) AMY: (smirking) Don't be too rough on the poor woman, okay? DARIA: I can't predict anything. (she goes inside, disappears.) (long Pause. Amy stands there a few seconds longer. She watches Helen and Jake, then lets her eyes trail away. Shakes her head.) AMY: (hushed) I have to say... what a long, strange trip it's been. ********************** THE END [roll the credits.........................] COMMENTARY Well that's it... *phew*, that was work. "None in the Family" concludes what was originally planned as an eight-fic story arc. And as you may have gathered, this two-parter did close several doors, and open a few more. For instance: 1) It closed the door on the Amy-Helen awkward period. You could see that they're pretty comfortable talking to each other now, even when at odds. 2) It closed the door on Amy concealing Joel and other major aspects of her life from her family. 3) And it *opened* the door for Jake to do more as a parent... *finally*. I was a bit nervous taking on the whole subject of troubled family and the grim father figure, since I knew I was going out on a major limb. Yet I think it turned out fairly well. You may have noticed that because of the serious theme, I did something different in this fic from my others: I had a lot of long, "talk" scenes. Meaning scenes where people talk things out, especially Helen and her family. I realized as I was writing that this is a sort of un-"Daria" thing to do, yet it felt right. Ack, so sue me. :-) Among other things, my two-parter was an attempt to answer the question: what makes Helen so aggressive? Many have speculated, based on what went on in "I Don't," that she has grown up trying to win attention from both of her parents. That may be true, but I couldn't help thinking that her behavior is so "masculine," it could also have derived from admiration and imitation of her father. If Rita is "Mother's girl," why couldn't Helen be "Daddy's girl"? Moreover, the whole focus on the father seemed like a good way to get our characters talking about stuff that has long been buried under the floor. *Especially* Jake and Helen... Next to the scene where Amy compares Joel to her father, I'd say Jake's scenes were the hardest to write -- to my surprise. I really wanted him to stay in character, and kept fearing that by having him be serious, I was writing him *out* of character. !!! That's because, as many have suggested, Jake does seem to be acting a little more like Homer Simpson this season. (Check out the scene in "The Lawndale File" where he instantaneously falls asleep in a kitchen chair after being told he doesn't have to parent any more.) However, I'm not sure I'm ready to agree with Mike Quinn (see his review for "Jake of Hearts") that Jake has completely turned into a cartoon. He *does* have his with-it fatherly moments every now and then, and I'm hoping the writers know better than to wreck his character completely. Bart and Lisa don't have to worry about Homer's bad parenting skills because they're never going to age anyway, but Daria and Quinn deserve better than to have a cartoon dad... You probably wanted to see Jake do more parenting in this fic... sorry 'bout that. But trust me, he will be an eensy bit more proactive in the future. Note: the inspiration for Grandpa Barksdale did *not* come from my relationship with my own dad, but rather with a certain boss of mine who mercifully shall never read this fanfic... Anyway, let me now discuss my future in fanfic writing... Way back when I was writing "The Tie That Chokes," I came up with the story arc as a way, I think, of urging myself to keep writing fanfic. I had thought that each fic would take me much longer than it actually does, and had expected to be writing NITF toward the end of *August*, not since the middle of July! Happily, I've come up with more story ideas, and another story arc that picks up threads found in my past eight fics. So I won't be going into retirement, just yet. :-) In fact, I'm not quite sure how many fics I plan to write. I'll definitely shoot for the standard thirteen, although I've also had thoughts of doing a "full season" of "Daria" fics -- meaning twenty-two. I've always felt like "Daria" deserved a full season. (She says now, after only having written eight... *wink*) One thing you'll find in my future fics is a) the story arc won't be as compact as this one has been, b) I'll probably experiment with different types of commercials (not just negative), and c) my "Next Wednesday" previews won't have any "footage" to show. Regarding a): I plan to toss in some light, *situation-based* (gasp!) fics every so often... try out scenarios I've always wanted to try. But you'll never ever have to worry about being force-fed something along the lines of "Depth Takes a Holiday," or even the tamer "The Lawndale File." Regarding b): don't be surprised if you see more of "Commercial Heaven." And I might try commercial *rating* (on a scale of 1 to 10, etc.). Regarding c): one reason I was able to show so much "footage" is because a lot of these fic ideas had been floating around my head for some time (for instance, I had the whole first act of "That Thing You Say" planned out before I actually wrote it). Now, things are a little more spontaneous. And I should mention that since I'm going to enter my last fall semester at my university, I will probably be slowing down just a tad. In a month or so, you may find that my fics start appearing every 3 weeks instead of every 2, for instance. And down the road, toward winter, I *may* have to take a hiatus for a month or two to fulfill the one requirement that stands between me and my B.A. But, as is my way, I'll keep you informed of my situation... Now onto *Points of interest*..... I must have an Amy fixation, because almost all of these are about her... :-) Amy and Joel's future: This is just speculation on my part, not foreshadowing of what's to come. It appears that Amy's troubles with Joel in "None in the Family" end on an optimistic note, in that she's going to try and get back together with him. Now, if she does so, a question for you: would this be a happy ending? In Act II, Amy more or less accuses Joel of being controlling. Based on what we know about Amy, both from my representation of her and the "real" stuff, she seems like the sort of person who might mistake intimacy for intrusiveness. On the other hand, what if Amy is largely correct about Joel -- what then? I have no answers at this time... I mean, hell, I'm not even sure if I *will* have them get back together. But my point in writing this is to muse over how difficult relationships can be, even when it seems as though you've found your soulmate... Maxing out credit cards: This actually belongs to Part One (when Grandma Barksdale accuses Amy of not being fiscally prudent, so to speak), but I didn't have time to add it to my last postscript. The reason I had Grandma make that criticism was because it sort of bugs me that not only Amy, but *everyone* the Morgendorffers are associated with, is so friggin' prosperous... with the possible exception of the Lanes. I just felt like showing that there might be a not-quite-rosy scenario behind all of the material wealth... Amy's physical appearance: Most people think she and Daria look like spitting images because they both wear glasses and have the same hair color. But I actually think Amy is physically more like Quinn. Check out her face -- it's shaped the same way (only, of course, because she's older, she's got cheekbones). And Daria, to me, looks more like Helen. If you don't believe me, watch Daria's fantasy future sequence in "Lane Miserables": same face... the only difference is Daria's got different hair and the glasses. Amy's voice: Are you sort of disappointed that Tracy Grandstaff *doesn't* do her voice, like I was when I found out? The Guptys: Ha, finally something different. Why the Guptys? Because who better to help sort out relationships than the Couples Therapy group? The Guptys are the only couple we know of who belong (or *belonged*, according to Helen's home page). The idea was so sweet, I couldn't resist... Now.... on to the status of the *games*. I said in the postscript for "Cheered Down" that I would consider burying them if I got no great outpouring of support for them to continue. Well, no one spoke up for the poor games, so I'm afraid it's the chopping block for them. (Unpleasant sound effects follow...) I'll choose a sea burial for them, in honor of a certain person who died before his time... (The sound of "Taps" gently plays as what's left of the games gurgles and disappears under the water.) Aw games, we hardly knew ya... I don't have plans for what I'll replace them with, but I'll come up with something by my next fanfic. Picking up the pieces: here's another addition to my *Oops* list: Tiffany reading the index cards in "Andrea Speaks!" I posted AS! a couple of weeks prior to the airing of "It Happened One Nut," so I had no idea that she was such a... er, *fast* reader. I'll find some lame way to correct the Oops in a future fanfic. And let me mention C.L. Basso's project, which I alluded to briefly in my last postscript. Devoted member of "Daria" fandom that he is, he has taken the trouble to convert my and some other fic authors' stories to "Compressed DOC" format from plain text, as a service to Palm-wielding fans. He's even gone to the trouble to fix minor spelling and punctuation errors. Eventually, when I have time, I'll do the same thing (spelling errors, *shudder*). Anyway, I'm in C.L.'s debt, and should any of you wish to have one of my fics in .prc format, you can e-mail him at: urizen@megsinet.net. Speaking of e-mail, if you'd like to join my mailing list, e-mail me at scar@uclink4.berkeley.edu. My big two-parter project is finally done, and you all were there to share it with me, *sniff, sniff*. Thanks for reading! This fanfic is the property of Kara Wild, copyright August 1999. All rights reserved.