daria
in
NOTES:
This is a fifth-season story, taking place before “Fizz Ed” (October, to be precise). For those who have read it, it also takes place just after my story “Is Summer Over Already?” but for the most part the goings-on in that fic won’t be referred to in this one, so there’s no need to worry about reading that one first (I do ask you to read it just for the sake of doing so, however). I prefer each of my stories to stand alone.
However, readers may understand some of the references better if they’ve seen the following episodes:
“The Old and the Beautiful”
“Speedtrapped”
“Is It Fall Yet?”
part one
INT: O’Neill’s classroom
Mr. O’Neill is “teaching” while the students show their usual bored indifference. Daria and Jane sit near the front.
O’Neill: Before we get started on “A Tale of Two Cities” I wanted to ask the class about some of our feelings upon completing “Wuthering Heights”. I know it was a very… emotional tale, and some of our more sensitive students might have come away from it feeling a bit… shall we say, disturbed.
Daria: (to Jane) “Disturbed.” Yes, I think that describes some of us very well.
O’Neill: Jane!
Jane: What the hell did I do?
O’Neill: You’re an artist, Jane, and so you must be very in touch with your deepest emotions. How did this book make you feel?
Jane: I’d have to go with… sleepy.
O’Neill: Huh?
Jane: (sighs) I don’t know, Mr. O’Neill… I just couldn’t identify with the lead character. I found it really hard to put myself in that kind of position, and really relate to the story. It’s… kind of troubling, really.
O’Neill: Oh, that’s a shame. I’ll leave you to sort out your inner turmoil. Anyone else?
Daria: (whispers) Nice save.
Jane: You don’t go through self-esteem class seven times with this guy without learning what the right things to say are.
O’Neill: Moving along – Heathcliffe is often described as a Byronic Hero. Kevin, what do you think this means?
Kevin: Whoa, you mean he had a mechanical arm or something? Man, now I wish I’d read the book!
Jane: You know, he can actually be kind of entertaining to watch, in a monkey-at-the-zoo kind of way.
Daria: Unfortunately, there’s a drawback.
Jane: What?
O’Neill: Daria, what are your thoughts on Wuthering Heights?
Daria: (to Jane) That.
Before Daria can speak, Ms. Li barges into the classroom.
Jane: Saved!
Daria: Guess again.
Ms. Li: Students, I have wonderful news!
Jane: (aside) Ooch, this can’t be good.
Ms. Li: In cooperation with many different worthwhile organizations here in Laaawndale, your school has embarked upon an innovative and forward-thinking new program that, I am sure, will inspire our students to maximize their potential as citizens and as human beings.
Daria: (aside) She’s been reading that list of power words again.
Jane: (aside) How intriguing and progressive of her.
Ms. Li: This program will be called “Laaawndale Outreach!” It will be a chance for you young people to bond with your community, by performing various acts of community service throughout this, er, community.
Daria: (aside) I’m feeling more communal all the time.
Jane: (aside) Da, comrade.
Ms. Li: Furthermore, the state is offering a grant to the school which shows the most dedication to the service of its community.
Daria: (aside) Ah. Funds. This all makes sense now.
Ms. Li: So, today after class, students will be asked to come down to the main office and sign up for a community service assignment.
Daria: (aloud) “Asked” as in “Compelled”?
Ms. Li: Let’s have none of your backtalk, Miss Morgendorffer! Of course, participation is strictly voluntary, except in select cases where students do not choose to volunteer. However I fail to see why any student would choose not to participate in this wonderful program, which is sure to teach valuable skills to the students of Laaawndale High, foster bonding with the city of Laaawndale, and give pride to the citizens of Laaawndale.
Daria: (aside) If she says “Laaawndale” one more time, I’ll gnaw my own leg off.
Jane: (aside) Save me a drumstick?
Ms. Li: In addition, students involved in the program will receive Participation Credit, without which you cannot graduate.
Daria: Excuse me? What the hell is “Participation Credit?”
Ms. Li: It was all explained in the School Review Meeting held last Sunday. Handouts were given to attendees.
Jane: Both of them?
Ms. Li: Here at Laaawndale High, we recognize the need for students to experience the, quote, “Real World.”
Jane: I don’t get cable at my house.
Ms. Li: I should think you would all be thrilled to be presented with such an opportunity to help others in your town.
Daria: As a former participant in “Awareness of Others Week”, I suggest that I’ve done my part and it’s time to pass the torch to the underclassmen.
Ms. Li: (ignoring her) Remember! Sign up today at three o’clock! Carry on, Mr. O’Neill. (exits)
O’Neill: Well! What an exciting opportunity! I hope that you all take advantage of it and learn one of life’s most valuable lessons: that great feeling you get when you give of yourself.
Daria: We learned all about that in Health class last year.
Mr. O’Neill goes red with embarrassment. Fortunately for him the bell rings. Everyone grabs up their books and makes for the door.
Daria: Come on, let’s get to that sign-up sheet.
Jane: Quite the little joiner, aren’t we?
Daria: Remember what happened last time?
Jane: (getting up quickly) I rather enjoyed it myself, but for your sake, let’s move.
INT: Hallway
Sandi and Stacy are leaving class together.
Sandi: I can’t believe this. The Fashion Club is a community service in and of itself. We should be exempt from this kind of thing.
Stacy: You are so right Sandi!
Sandi: Of course I am. Someday, they’ll see that.
Stacy: Uh-oh. There’s a bunch of people going for the sign-up sheet. Shouldn’t we hurry?
Sandi: I’ll tell you what, Stacy. Why don’t you run in there and sign us both up for something? There’s no reason we both have to scramble through that crowd.
Stacy: Oh… but, Sandi, I don’t think I should pick for you, I mean, what if I pick the wrong thing?
Sandi: I have complete confidence in you, Stacy. Besides, as President of the Fashion Club, it is my duty to delegate responsibility. Go now, quickly!
Stacy: Ohhh! I bet I get all sweaty! (Stacy takes a deep breath, holds it, and plunges into the crowd that’s rapidly forming around the sign-up lists)
Sandi: And don’t sign up for clothes donation! (shudders) Never again…
CUT TO: Quinn and Tiffany, leaving a different class.
Quinn: Don’t worry, Tiffany, I’ll make sure we get something good. As Vice-President of the Fashion Club, it’s my duty to take responsibility.
Tiffany: You’re sooo smart, Quinn…
Quinn: But I’m not like, you know, a brain or anything!
Tiffany: Of course not…
Quinn: All right, so I’m trying harder and getting better grades and stuff, but I’m still the same Quinn!
Tiffany: There’s a different girl named Quinn? Where?
Quinn: Look, I’ll prove it to you! (she spots the three J’s) Joey? Jeffy? Simon?
Joey: Hi Quinn!
Jeffy: Hey, Quinn!
Jamie: (whiny) Quinn! That wasn’t even close!
Quinn: Sure, Johnny. Listen, could you guys do me a favor? I can’t get to the sign-up sheet because there are too many people in the way.
Joey: I’ll get ‘em out of the way!
Jeffy: I’d move mountains for you, Quinn!
Jamie: Life sucks. (Quinn bats her eyelashes at him) Whatever you want, Quinn!
The
three J’s plow forcefully into the crowd, leaving a hole in their wake and
getting a lot of people very angry.
Quinn: You guys are the best! (she strides into the gap left behind by the J’s and makes her way straight to the sign-up sheet) Let’s see here… parks and recreation maintenance, not! Serving food to the homeless… yeah, right. Clothes donation drive – oh God, never again! Reading to day-care students… ick. Here we go! Animal Shelter Volunteer! All those cute little puppies and kitties need me… hey Tiffany, I found a good one!
Quinn signs her name and Tiffany’s to the list, then moves back out of the crowd, which crushes behind her as the three J’s lose their footing and are practically trampled.
CUT TO: Jane and Daria, arriving on the scene.
Jane: Did you ever want to see what would really happen if you went into a crowded room and yelled “Fire!”
Daria: Tempting… but I suggest we use more subtle methods. Just follow my lead.
Jane: I leave it in your capable hands.
Daria leads Jane into the crowd
Daria: (loudly) Say, Jane, isn’t this where they’re having the signups for the ballet team?
Assorted Football Players: WHAT?? (they run for it)
Jane: No, I’m pretty sure that this is the Chess Team tryouts!
Several Other Students: NO WAY!! (more students run for it)
Daria: Wait, I’ve got it! This is the line for summer school!
Many more students stampede out of the way.
Daria: That thinned the herd a bit. Let’s go.
Jane: I’m lost in admiration.
They move forward to sign up.
Daria: (looking over the sheet) Hm.
Jane: Not much to choose from. Ballet team might have been preferable. Wait, here’s a good one! (she signs her name)
Daria: What is it?
Jane: Graffiti removal! Closest thing to painting they’ve got. Unfortunately, there’s only one opening left.
Daria: I’m heartbroken. (sigh) Let’s face it, there’s nothing actually appealing here. (she signs her name)
Jane: (looking over) What did you pick?
Daria: I’ll tell you later. The crowd’s coming back, I suggest we make a hasty exit.
They leave just as the crowd crushes against the tables again.
INT: Pizza Prince
Jane and Daria sip cokes while waiting for their pizza. Trent moseys in and takes a seat next to Jane.
Trent: Hey, Jane. Hey, Daria. What’s going on?
Daria: The usual zaniness.
Trent: Where’s Tom today?
Daria: He’s out of town for a while. His parents are making him check out a few Ivy-league colleges. Judging by his experiences, I can thank my lucky stars that my parents can’t afford to fly me around the country doing the same thing.
Jane: Yeah, lucky you. You get to go to Middleton.
Daria: And on that day, Satan will be going to work in a snow plow.
Jane picks up a paper in front of her and glances over it.
Trent: What’s that? You doing homework or something?
Jane: Trent, how long have we known each other?
Daria: It’s Ms. Li’s latest scheme. We’re all doing community service projects. Ms. Li provides a free source of slave labor, in return for which she gets kickbacks.
Trent: Whoa. Ever see the Shawshank Redemption?
Daria: There’s a difference here. In prison, there’s a chance to escape.
Jane: I signed up for graffiti removal. This is a list of some of the more defaced areas of town. I picked it up on the way over here.
Trent: Cool. What did you get, Daria?
Daria: I’m assisting at an elementary school for gifted and talented kids.
Jane: What do they need tutoring for, if they’re so damn smart?
Daria: The way I see it, if that’s the case, I get off easy. And if not, I get to mold the minds of our future leaders. It’s a win-win situation.
Jane: Daria, when will you learn? Since when did you have a win-win situation that worked to your advantage in the end?
Silence.
Jane: While you’re thinking about that, could we get some pizza? I need some Canadian bacon.
INT: Cranberry Commons, Food Court
Quinn and Tiffany are sitting together over salads and tiny sodas.
Quinn: So then I said, Look lady, if you’re all out of salmon pink lip gloss, don’t think for a moment that you can get me to buy melon pink lip gloss and think it’s the same thing, because not only do I have a flawless color sense but I was not born yesterday and I’m not going to be taken in by your fast sales talk, and she just had nothing to say to that so I turned on my heel and walked straight out of there.
Tiffany: Wow, Quinn, you really –
Quinn: So then I just went over to Blushes and Brushes and they had just gotten a whole new box of salmon pink lip gloss and that glittery eyeshadow right off the truck that morning so I was the first one to dip into the box, but I only got a half-dozen of each because who knows what I’d do with it next month when everything points to darker reds coming back in.
Tiffany: Really, that’s –
Quinn: Anyway, I’m so glad that we’re going in together on this project because it’s going to be so great helping all those cute little animals find homes and besides, I really like talking to you, Tiffany.
Tiffany: Sure, Quinn. (sees Sandi and Stacy approaching, and looks happy and relieved) Hey, guys! It’s really great to see you…
Stacy: (ignoring Tiffany) I’m really sorry, Sandi! I’m really, really, really, really sorry!
Sandi: For the last time, Stacy, just let it go!
Quinn: What happened?
Stacy: It’s like this –
Sandi: (interrupting) Stacy signed us both up to assist in the annual quilting bee at the Better Days Nursing Home.
Stacy: (crying) It said there would be fabric samples! Fabric samples, Sandi!
Quinn: Oh, Sandi, that’s a shame. But look on the bright side! You’ll learn so much about sewing, maybe you can make your own outfits instead of having to go to Cashman’s all the time! (smirks)
Sandi: (scowling) And what, if I may ask, is your contribution to the community this year?
Quinn: Oh, Tiffany and I are volunteering at the animal shelter! We’re going to help all those adorable little animals find a home.
Stacy: (stops crying) Really? That’s so nice, Quinn!
Sandi: Too bad we’ll be sewing quilts all day. Think of all the animals that won’t ever find homes because we won’t be there to help them.
With a loud bawl, Stacy resumes crying. Quinn and Tiffany glare at Sandi, who glares back for a moment. Then she notices that a number of other people, some of them Lawndale students, who have taken note of Stacy’s distress, also glaring at her. Realizing that she may have gone too far, she gets a slightly ashamed look on her face.
Quinn: (getting up) Come on, Stacy. Let’s go to the bathroom and fix your makeup. We can’t have people seeing a member of the club go all to pieces.
Stacy: (blubbering) It s-said there would be f-fabric, Quinn.
Quinn: There, there now… it’ll be all right.
Tiffany and Sandi sit in awkward silence for a bit.
Tiffany: Um… I need another soda. (she leaves)
Sandi watches her go, and then slumps onto the table, her chin resting on her hand. Glancing around, she sees the crowd mostly going back to their business. She also notices Jodie, who focuses back down at a newspaper just after Sandi notices her disapproving look.
Sandi: What are you looking at?
Jodie: (not looking up) Do you really want to know?
Sandi: (getting riled up) Hey, how I handle Stacy is none of your business!
Jodie: I didn’t say anything.
Sandi: Go on, tell me what you really think. That I’m a cast-iron bitch who treats her friends like dirt.
Jodie: (finally looking up, and getting ready to leave) Sounds like I don’t need to tell you. (she exits)
Sandi looks like she’s about to say something, then collapses with an air of defeat.
INT: Quinn’s room
Quinn’s on the phone.
Quinn: God, that was so embarrassing! I mean, her mascara was running all down her cheeks and everything, she didn’t even want to leave the bathroom.
Tiffany: (from phone) I know…
Quinn: So, what happened to Sandi?
Tiffany: She just left…
Quinn: That’s weird. Anyway, it’s probably just as well, I think Stacy would have started crying again as soon as she saw her. So, what do you think we should wear to the animal shelter?
Tiffany: Hmm… that’s hard, you know? I mean, we don’t know what colors the animals will be…
Quinn: It’s something to think about. (-click-) I’m getting another call, Tiffany, I’ll see you tomorrow.
Tiffany: Okay, Quinn… bye –
Quinn cuts her off by clicking over
Quinn: Hello? Oh hi, Sandi. (a little less enthusiastic than usual)
Split-screen
Sandi: Hi Quinn. Listen, I hope you don’t mind that I had to run off like that… I, um, had an eyelash in my eye or something.
Quinn: Sure, Sandi. These things happen.
Sandi: Um, Quinn? You don’t think I was too hard on Stacy, do you?
Quinn: Um… well… Stacy’s just so tenderhearted, you know?
Sandi: I wouldn’t want her to feel too bad about the whole quilting thing. I mean, it was just a misunderstanding.
Quinn: Yeah, well, she feels really bad about it.
Sandi: Uh, yeah. Well, I should go now.
Quinn: Sure, Sandi.
Sandi: I’ll see you tomorrow. (hangs up)
Quinn: (also hangs up) What a bitch.
Daria: (standing in the doorway) Talking to your friends again?
Quinn: Eep! Daria, don’t do that!
Daria: If you’re finally off the phone, I want to call Tom.
Quinn: Daria, wait.
Daria: (sigh) Yes, Quinn?
Quinn: Did you ever know someone that you’d been hanging around with for a while, and although you knew she had a bit of an attitude at first, you thought you could live with it, and after a while it just got worse until you begin to wonder why you stay around because she just gets on your nerves?
Daria: Actually, I feel that way right now.
Quinn: Fine, just go call your little boyfriend! (chucks smiley pillow at Daria and misses)
Daria: Quinn, if Sandi’s getting on your case, just tell her off. You’re smarter than she is, you should be able to take her on in any verbal volleyball match.
Quinn: It’s not me, Daria. It’s Stacy! I feel so bad about how Sandi treats her!
Daria: If Stacy’s decided to be a doormat, there’s nothing you can do for her. She has to figure it out for herself. Just make sure you’re there for her if you want her to have someone to turn to when she needs it. (she leaves)
Quinn: (sighs) Thanks Daria.
Quinn turns to the wall, deep in thought, until she’s startled by the smiley pillow hitting her gently in the back. She starts to get mad, then realizes Daria didn’t throw it very hard, and smirks a bit before going back to her brooding.
The Next Day...
EXT: Lawndale Learning and Growing Facility for the Gifted and Talented
The school is an old brick building, two stories tall, with a playground out back.
INT: Classroom
Daria walks into the classroom, and stops in the doorway.
Daria: Ah. The ninth circle of Hell.
The classroom is, in a word, untidy. The usual student desks and molded plastic chairs are present, but strewn about in a way that suggests that they were dropped from a great height and let scatter where they may. The walls are decorated with what is probably student art, and it makes Jane’s stuff look tame by comparison. In addition, there are a number of animal cages with the tops off, and only about half of them still have the animals inside. The kids are engaged in various activities, including creating more hideous works of “art”, playing with the animals, reading, writing, pulled into discussion groups, etc. There are about thirty of them and two adults, one of whom perks up and notices Daria.
Teacher: Oh, you must be Daria!
Daria: I suppose it would be pointless to deny it at this stage.
Teacher: Please, come in. I’m Marge, and I’m one of the coordinators of the Blue group.
Daria: Good. I’m feeling a little blue about this myself. (a minor explosion from a nearby chemistry kit makes her jump) What’s going on, is this recess or something?
Marge: Oh no, we don’t artificially structure the day in this facility. Our children are permitted to learn when they choose, teach when they choose, and recreate when they choose.
Daria: Does that mean I can go home when I choose?
Marge: (not paying attention) In this way, each learns at her or his own pace and at those times best suited to themselves. Come, let me introduce you to the people you’ll be sharing your time with. This is Gordon, he is the other Blue coordinator.
Gordon: Hello, Daria. It’s wonderful that you could be here with us. Perhaps you could join our discussion of the cultural mores during the Wan-Chu Dynasty once you get settled.
Daria: (looks at the kindergarten-aged kids involved in the discussion) That’s a little unsettling right there, actually.
Marge: Oh, and this is Lester, one of our promising young poets.
Lester’s about six years old.
Daria: Hey, Lester.
Lester: I sense the weight of personal regret heavy on your bosom.
Daria: Excuse me?
Marge: Oh, and this is Elaine.
Elaine (a twelve-year old girl) twirls over to Daria, makes a graceful curtsey, then spins on her toes in the other direction, letting her long hair drape over Daria’s shoulder as she does so.
Marge: Elaine is experimenting with communicating through interpretive dance. She just said how nice it was to meet you, and she hopes you’ll become good friends.
Daria: How does she dance to people she doesn’t like?
Marge: You’ll have a chance to meet everyone as time goes on, of course, but it’s best that they introduce themselves in their own time.
Daria: As long as no one is communicating through the use of blunt objects, I think I can handle that.
Marge: Wonderful! I’m going to leave you to find your own potential as Coordinating Assistant. Feel free to join any of the discussions you see, or facilitate learning and growth wherever you can lend a hand.
Daria: Can’t wait.
Marge goes back to her group of students. Daria stands in the middle of the room for a bit, looking at the scene around her with deadpan eyes. There’s a tug on her sleeve. Daria looks down to see a little girl holding a large white rat.
Daria: Yes?
Girl: He peed on me.
EXT: City Hall
Jane and someone in coveralls with a clipboard stand in front of a brick wall that’s been liberally defaced with spraypaint.
Floyd: (that’s his name) Okay, Jen, let me give you the lowdown on this graffiti thing.
Jane: It’s Jane.
Floyd: Sure. Anyway, you start with this wall, go around the civic center until you get all this crap painted over. Then we’ll head over to Lawndale Commons, and you can do the same thing there.
Jane: Easy enough.
Floyd: Here’s a gallon of white and a roller. Have fun.
Jane: Excuse me, I don’t paint with (shudders) rollers. I have some pride.
Floyd: You want to do half a mile of walls with a brush, I won’t stop you.
Jane: (sigh) Van Gogh, forgive me. (she takes the roller between thumb and forefinger, holding it as far away from her as she can, and turns to start on the wall) Wow, look at this stuff. Hey, did anyone take a picture of this?
Floyd: No, and we didn’t take pictures of the landfill before the Director of Public Works built his house on it, either. Just cover it up.
Jane: Yeah, but this is really cool. Look at this design. And this was all done with spraypaint?
Floyd: It’s graffiti. Get rid of it.
Jane: It’s art. I can’t just destroy it!
Floyd: Hey, if you want to be an art critic, do it on your own time.
Jane: You don’t get it, do you?
Floyd: Look, you can paint it white, or I’ll get someone else to do it. It’s no skin off my back.
Jane: Go find someone else, then. (she drops the roller and paint bucket and stalks off)
INT: Animal Shelter
A man (Mr. Clay) is giving Quinn and Tiffany the tour. Quinn’s dressed primarily in browns, Tiffany in avocado leggings and a white shirt
Mr. Clay: This is where we keep the larger dogs. They need to be fed once a day, and make sure each of them always has something to chew on.
Quinn: Where are the cute animals?
Mr. Clay: Over here is the vet’s office. We have trained people to take care of the sick animals, so you won’t have to deal with that much. Over there is where we keep the cats.
Tiffany: Kitties… cool…
Mr. Clay: They generally get fed twice a day, but they won’t usually eat everything in front of them all at once. Litterboxes should be changed once a day.
Tiffany: Why would you keep a box of trash in there with them?
Mr. Clay: (ignoring Tiffany) Moving right along, here’s the smaller adult dogs, anything under twenty pounds. The puppies are in a different room.
Quinn is distracted by a poodle which is nosing the bars. She looks at the nametag.
Quinn: Hi, Snookums! Oh, aren’t you precious!
The dog noses Quinn’s offered hand and lets her scratch its head.
Quinn: That’s a good puppy! (she takes a closer look at the nametag) Hey, this tag has tomorrow’s date on it. Weird. Oh well, bye-bye Snookums!
Snookums whimpers a bit when Quinn leaves, then sits back down in the back of its cage.
Tiffany: (from up ahead) What’s that?
Mr. Clay: It’s a chinchilla.
Tiffany: Chin… Chin-chin… hmmm…
Quinn: Hey guys, wait up!
INT: Nursing Home
Sandi and Stacy come in through the front doors. Stacy looks as though she may start crying any moment, and Sandi looks worried about it and peeved about it at the same time. They are met by a nurse.
Sandi: Hello, I’m Sandi Griffin, this is Stacy Rowe. We’re here to volunteer.
Nurse: Not for reading, I hope? Not to be rude, but our residents are very picky about the tone of voice that our readers have…
Sandi: (frowns) Exactly what is the matter with my voice?
Stacy: (small voice) We’re here for quilting…
Nurse: Oh, wonderful! Come right this way. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get young people interested in the art of quilting.
Sandi: (glances at Stacy) I’m, um, sure it’s fascinating.
Stacy: I didn’t mean to, Sandi!
Sandi: It’s all right, Stacy! You don’t need to apologize any more, we’re just going to make the best of it!
Stacy: It said (sniff) there would be fabric samples…
Sandi sighs with exasperation as they round a corner into the sewing room.
Nurse: Do either of you have sewing experience?
Stacy: I have some… I mean, I can sew a button and stuff…
Sandi: (hopefully) Out of curiosity, what if we don’t?
Nurse: Oh, our residents would be happy to teach you, of course! Now, Sandi, this is Mrs. Peabody, you’ll be working mostly with her.
Mrs. Peabody: Margaret? Is that you, dear?
Nurse: No, Mrs. Peabody, Margaret isn’t here. (aside to Sandi) Mrs. Peabody always wanted a daughter, but she had eight boys instead. This week, she’s been asking for her nonexistent daughter named Margaret. Don’t be concerned if she wants you to call her “Mother”.
Sandi: Umm…
Nurse: Stacy, over here is Ms. Chaney.
Stacy: Hi.
Ms. Chaney: Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?
Stacy: (shy smile) Um, thanks.
Ms. Chaney: Oh, but I’m being such a silly old woman, I’ll bet you hear that all the time from the boys in school. You don’t need to hear it from me too.
Stacy: (blushing) That’s really nice of you to say, Ms. Chaney…
Ms. Chaney: Please dear, call me Janice. If we’re going to be working together, we should be friendly with each other, don’t you think so?
Stacy: Well, if you say so Ms Chan– Janice. (she giggles)
Ms. Chaney: Well dear, let’s get right to work. I’m not getting any younger, and we need to finish this quilt before I head down the tunnel of light. I imagine that you have an excellent color sense, I can tell by your clothes.
Stacy blushes and smiles, unused to so many compliments.
Sandi, in the meantime, is speaking with Mrs. Peabody.
Sandi: So, do you have, like, fabric samples or something that we’re supposed to be looking at?
Mrs. Peabody: Do you know that you have your father’s nose, Margaret?
Sandi: I’m Sandi, Mrs. Peabody.
Mrs. Peabody: (a bit surprised) Oh! Forgive me, dearie, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.
Sandi: It’s quite all right.
Mrs. Peabody: You just look so much like your sister Margaret, it’s hard to tell you apart.
Sandi rolls her eyes.
EXT: Highway
Kevin and Upchuck, both dressed in green coveralls, are standing by the roadside with a similarly dressed fat, balding man named Leon. Upchuck looks angry about something.
Leon: (talking around a cigar) Here’s the drill, boys. Ten miles that way is the city limit. Pick up all the trash between here and there, bag it, and leave it to be collected the next morning. Any questions?
Kevin: (raising his hand) Yo, dude!
Leon: Yes?
Kevin: What are all these cars doing on our highway?
Leon: (Looks at Kevin as if he’s a moron) Well, I’ll tell you. A few years back, someone realized that driving on the highway was a lot less bumpy than driving on plain dirt, and the idea caught on. Any more stupid questions?
Kevin: No, I mean, isn’t the highway, like, ours? I mean, we adopted it, right?
Leon: Huh?
Upchuck: Don’t bother, he’s dumber than the pavement he’s standing on.
Kevin: Hey!
Leon: Whatever. Just pick up the trash and watch out for traffic, we’ve got enough roadkill around here. (He gets in his pickup and drive off).
Kevin: (to Upchuck) Dude! That was like, really uncool!
Upchuck: Don’t you know what “Adopt-A-Highway” even means? It means we pick up trash and that’s it! What kind of idiot signs up for this in the first place?
Kevin: Hey, maybe I’m not a straight C student like some people, but I know my rights! This highway is mine now!
Upchuck: Whatever.
Kevin: Hey, besides, if you’re so smart, what are you doing here?
Upchuck: How should I know? I signed up to volunteer at the YWCA therapeutic massage clinic! Someone switched my name, and if I ever find out who…
A fast-food takeout bag flung from a passing car strikes upchuck in the head, splattering him with a ketchup-mustard mix. He grits his teeth and shakes his fist at the blue convertible from where the bag came.
INT: Blue Convertible
Ms. Barch: Enjoy your volunteer assignment, male scumbag! Ha Ha!
The next day...
EXT: Lawndale High
The lunch bell rings.
INT: Cafeteria
Daria and Jane sit at a table, picking at their food, not eating it.
Jane: Shouldn’t we be talking about how our volunteering went, or something?
Daria: Sucked.
Jane: Ditto.
Silence.
Jane: So, why did yours suck so much?
Daria: It’s like an entire room full of Guptys.
Jane: Ooch. Bummer.
Daria: They throw these kids together into this classroom with absolutely no boundaries whatsoever. I mean, I’m all for defying authority, but when there’s no authority to defy, it kind of messes everything up, you know? Am I making sense?
Jane: Not really. Actually, it kind of sounds like growing up in my house.
Daria: So, what sucks about your gig?
Jane: They want me to paint over graffiti.
Pause.
Daria: (motions for more with one hand) And…
Jane: I don’t want to.
Daria: Jane, forgive me if I seem obtuse, but what did you think “Graffiti Removal” actually meant? Did you think they would move the vandalized walls brick by brick to a museum and then rebuild them?
Jane: Yeah, I know, but I figured it would be a bunch of meaningless squiggles and hearts with “Kevin Luvs Brittany” misspelled in them. Some of this stuff is real, genuine art. Just because it’s on a wall in spraypaint instead of on a canvas with oils, they call it vandalism.
Daria: The nerve of some people.
Jane: You don’t understand, Daria. Being raised by bohemians has taught me some important things: don’t eat anything that moves; ask for I.D. when presented with so-called long lost relatives; never let anyone into the house who’s wearing a suit and tie; and, above all, respect art in all its forms. The images on these walls may be made by hoodlums with spraypaint, but they’re talented hoodlums with spraypaint who, like it or not, added some much-needed character to our little burg. I’ve spent my life creating art. I can’t just destroy it.
Daria: Jane, have you considered the consequences of failing to deliver on one of Ms. Li’s pet projects during your senior year?
Jane: I can take it.
Daria: Can you take being in the same class as Quinn and her friends?
Jane shrugs.
Daria: Another year of Mr. DiMartino?
Jane looks doubtful.
Daria: Kevin and Brittany are probably going to flunk too, you know.
Jane: (shudders) That wall will be white by next Tuesday.
Daria: Atta girl.
Jodie approaches.
Jodie: Hey guys, mind if I sit here?
Daria: Before you say anything, be aware that we each already have one more extra-curricular than we’d ordinarily deem prudent.
Jodie: (a little miffed) Look, Mack’s sitting with his football buddies. I just want a change of company for a bit.
Jane: Forgive my blunt friend. Have a seat.
Jodie: Thanks.
Daria: Sorry, Jodie.
Jodie: (shrugs) Eh. No big deal. So, how are things going with you two?
Daria and Jane: Sucks.
Jodie: Really? That’s too bad. What are you doing for your volunteer project?
Jane: Reverse vandalism.
Daria: Remedial brainwashing.
Jodie: Oh yeah, Daria, you signed up for that Talanted and Gifted School. Funny, I’d think that would be interesting.
Daria: Picture this: Take Albert Einstein, Socrates, William Shakespeare, and Benjamin Franklin. Put them all together in a room with no rules, no limits, just a lot of opportunities to learn, grow, and discover new things.
Jodie: Sounds pretty cool.
Daria: Now replace the geniuses with a bunch of kids whose parents just thought they were brilliant because they could count higher than the Cookie Monster.
Jodie: Ew. I see your point. So, Jane, what did you really get?
Jane: Graffiti removal.
Jodie: Oh. Well, I can see why that would suck.
Daria: And what are you doing, if I may ask without seeming too interested?
Jodie: Oh, I’m volunteering at the soup kitchen, the crisis center, and I signed up for an internship at Congressman Sach’s office. Extra credit, you know.
Jane: Good God, woman, don’t you ever sleep?
Daria: Wait a minute. Aren’t those all things you were doing anyway?
Jodie smirks and folds her arms across her chest in satisfaction.
Jane: I’ll be damned.
Daria: I don’t know whether to be impressed with your little scheme, or pity you for being in the position to pull it off in the first place.
Jodie: (sighs) I’m teetering between those two possibilities myself.
EXT: Lawndale High
Bell rings.
INT: Cafeteria
Sandi and Stacy sit at the popular table, in silence. Sandi looks vaguely uncomfortable, Stacy looks edgy and timid – in other words, normal.
Sandi: So…
Stacy: I’m really sorry, Sandi! I screwed up and got us a bad assignment and I’m just so, so sorry and it will never happen again!!
Sandi: (wincing) Stacy, people are looking at us!
Stacy: (whisper) I’m sorry!
Sandi: (sighs) Stacy, give it a rest! You don’t have to apologize for everything, you know.
Stacy: I’m sorry!
Sandi rolls her eyes.
Quinn and Tiffany approach and sit down.
Quinn: Hi guys! What’s new?
Sandi: Well, we were about to discuss the pros and cons of quilting, if we could just get past the sticky point of it being all Stacy’s fault that we’re doing it in the first place.
Stacy: I’m sor–
Sandi: (quickly interrupts) So, how are things at the pound?
Quinn: Oh, it’s so great to be able to help all the cute little animals there!
Tiffany: I fed the chin-chinny…
Quinn: I mean, sure, some of them aren’t so cute and little, but they just look at you with those big, sad eyes and your heart just melts, and you just want to bundle them in your arms and tell them everything is going to be all right…
Sandi glances over at Stacy, who’s looking at her with big, sad eyes.
Quinn: So, how’s quilting?
Stacy’s eyes start to well up with tears, and her chin trembles.
Sandi: Well as I was saying, Stacy and I were just talking about that, and I was just about to tell her how it’s, um… (mumbles) not as bad as I thought it would be?
Stacy: I’m really sor– huh? (she’s fairly surprised)
Quinn: That’s great, Sandi!
Tiffany: Really cool...
Stacy: But I thought – I mean, you didn’t look like you were having a good time, with that woman who wanted you to call her mother and everything…
Sandi: Well, naturally, I wanted to… maintain a certain emotional distance. (growing confident as she continues her line of BS) I mean, after all, it would have been psychologically damaging to that poor woman if I had actually acted like her daughter, don’t you think?
Quinn: That’s so thoughtful of you Sandi.