The Wedding of Daria, Princess of Zippotron

Daria and related characters and situations are the property of Viacom / MTV Networks. This work is strictly for the entertainment of Daria fans and not for material gain. All characters are fictitious. This is a sequel to 'Moonstruck Dumb' and 'Sanitation Sandi'

Queen Quinn, of the House of Morgendorffer, sub-house of Barksdale, of the Great Zippotronian Empire, gave her royal command to her loyal subject, loyal in public at least and only up to a point.

"Now Daria, don't be nervous. Oh wait, brides are supposed to be nervous; it's so cute when they blush on their wedding day." Quinn clasped her hands and assumed a dreamy fixation on the ceiling.

"Ah, Daria, just think in a couple short hours you and Sandi will make honest women of each other. Imagine seeing her on the arms of her father as you walk up the aisle on the arms of Dad. A Princess marrying a commoner. How romantic. Oh, don't tell Sandi I called her a commoner. But I guess marrying you will make her a Princess soon too. And she won't mind people calling her 'Princess', unlike you."

Queen Quinn paused then. "Is that how it works? I'm a little hazy on Zippotronian royal customs for girls marrying girls."

"You're a little hazy on a lot of things, Quinn. Still I have to admit you've made a good queen. Hmm, is Sandi marrying me just to become a Princess? Nope, gotta kick that one to the curb. We've been through too much together: the sanitation strike, the graft collectors sickout, purple green cheese mite infestations, plenty of good wine and late nights in my apartment. And actually those purple mites made for some yummy cheese with a little white wine on the side. Yeah, we've been through a lot."


After a pause in her reflection, "And I love her."

Daria sighed heavily causing the boxy servo-robot fussing about with last alternations to her wedding dress to huff and command in a tone sounding like Australian, Cockney and Brooklyn English, "Hey watch it, Sheila. Quit yer squirming and stand still, will ya, ya cloth-eared bint. I don't got all day 'ere. Roight then."

Its programming corrected itself as it sighed, grunted, whirred and assumed a more servile tone. "Your most royal excellent Princessness highness Daria, I respectfully request that you refrain from movement as I make final few adjustments."

Daria straightened and composed herself for the fitting. She glanced at at the robot and muttered, "Gotta get that thing looked it. It's not supposed to talk like that."

"For sure!" Queen Quinn said. "That's not very respectful at all."

"I meant when it was respectful."

"Quinn, I mean Your Highness Queen Quinn," Princess Daria asserted. "She'll be called 'Princess' because I say so. And the only blushing I'm planning on doing is when I get into a couple bottles of Bulgarian white wines at the reception."

"Oh, Daria, you don't know how I've been looking forward to this. Queen Tiffany and Queen Stacy got married without ceremony on that day, uhm, you know, the day we, uh, assumed power. They did some things later but it just wasn't the same. Now Tiffany and Stacy and I have planned this wedding for ages. They're with Sandi now so I can be helping my big sister get ready. And the whole Empire will be watching on lacto-vid. "

"That's galacto-vid, Quinn. I don't like that name either come to think of it."

The non-humanoid robot (Daria never admitted to anyone except Jane and Sandi that humanoid robots creeped her out) finished and puttered off. Queen Quinn cocked her head this way and that as she watched Daria take a couple steps in her long dress and train. Daria allowed her to make a few necessary modifications which the robot had missed. Daria's bridesmaids, Queen Yueliang Selena Tungol Lunati Mona Tsagaan Sar Tiffany Blum-Deckler and her wife Queen Jane Miranda Lane Blum-Deckler with Queen Anastasia Ruttheimer nee Rowe had departed to attend to future Princess Alexandra Tamara Griffin and their own royal duties before the ceremony.

"Ah, so beautiful and a white dress, just like Sandi's." Quinn said with just the barest hint of skepticism.

"Why not white?" Daria said feeling somewhat surprised she felt even a tiny drop of offense. "We're entitled; we're both vir...I mean pure and chaste and untouched. Despite what those Venusian tabloids print. I bet Upchuck, I mean Venusian King Charles Ruttheimer the Third the First is writing those stories himself. If he weren't a loyal and royal vassal I'd show him I still remember how to use my boots."

Quinn rolled her eyes as Daria lifted a foot and displayed her signature heavy black high-laced boots under the demure, elegant white gown.

"But not pure and untouched for much longer, thank God. I can't wait; I can't wait. And after the wedding we'll be true to each other forever; that's another aspect of 'chaste' that people forget. Hmm, I know she likes how the Baron J's and the other lunkheads on the exalted former Lawndale football team still look at her when they think I'm not noticing. God, what am I thinking? I trust her. Is this that cold feet thing? But I have on my new Titanian rhino leather boots. Breathable. Keeps the old tootsies toasty but not hot. Okay, just concentrate on fantasizing ripping off, I meaning watching her demurely shed her wedding dress."

She shivered. Quinn smirked as a blush indeed crept over Daria's lovely oval face.

"Yes," Quinn said. "I've been wanting to talk to you about that free press thing you got me to agree to. I thought you meant no-charge pressing pants. There are just too many men running around with wrinkles so I agreed. But did you see this one magazine? Imagine stripes with plaids. Uh-uh, no way, never."

"So Quinn. When are you going to tie the old knot?" Daria asked as she killed time by turning this way and that while regarding herself in floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

"Well, you know, when Joey and Jeffy and, uh, Jamal get back from their quest, then I can decide on the most worthy."

"Quinn, you sent them to get you the very best soda in the universe."

"Well, how was I to know that could only be found where they make it, in a small convenience store on Tau Ceti e?" A tiny smile formed on Quinn's lips even as she protested.

"Right, a convenience store on the edge of a wilderness infested with four-armed barbarian apes and poison-fanged demons."

"Well, someone had to try out Dad's new design of super-light-speed drives." Queen Quinn said in earnest defense. "Seemed like the perfect opportunity."

The two chatted and passed the time on topics ranging from the greater good of all the subjects of the Zippotronian Empire to what pizza Queen Jane had commissioned for the reception. Daria was more interested in speculating to herself what sort of lingerie Sandi had chosen for their honeymoon in Paris which kept the blush rising on her cheeks.

Each sister also kept thoughts to themselves along the lines of, "Wow, sis, you're finally beginning to think about the important stuff."

At last there was a knock at the royal fitting room door, or rather quick successions of firm no-rhythm knocks. Daria and Quinn exchanged small pleased smiles and Quinn called out, "Come in girls."

The door flew open and in tumbled two little girls, identical in looks except one had asymmetrically bobbed short hair while the other sported long tresses. Bright shockingly blue eyes in gently canted lids and softly brown hair bespoke their mixed heritage.

In Earth years the twins were two years old but under the influence of reflected sunlight, Luna craters, green cheese and strict but doting parents (Daria was still surprised Jane could be a strict, attentive parent but maybe that was a reaction to her own half-neglected upbringing) the two looked to be about seven.

Lunar children grew quickly in their first few years and ate their parents out of house and home until age five on the Terran scale at which point they looked and acted to be roughly fifteen year olds. At that point and thereafter, their development matched normal Terrans.

The two girls were dressed in long white gowns. Queen Quinn was happy to note that the gowns were as yet unstained.

"Hi girls," said Quinn. "Oh, don't you both look oh so pretty and clean."

"For now and for how long?" Quinn and Daria thought to themselves.

"Aunty Quinn. Auntie Daria." The two girls gushed. "Mommy Jane and Mama Tiffany said you were ready for us to carry Princess Daria's train."

"Whoo-whoo. Chugga-chugga." Short-hair shouted. Her sister punched her on the arm.

Daria's long train was a compromise. Sandi wanted twenty feet of trailing heavy fabric while Daria wanted a train length of zero. They settled on twelve.

Queen Quinn commanded, "Princess Monday Mika you're on her right; Princess Monday Mitsuki on the left. No, her other left. Just like we practiced; slow steps, keep up but don't try to hold up the whole train, just the back corners."

"And here's two pieces each of my favorite bubble-gum." Daria said. "Start chewing now so you can blow some big bubbles when we're under the cameras. But watch the gown, okay? I actually want to keep it clean."

Princess Monday Mika and Princess Monday Mitsuki pouted as Queen Quinn confiscated the gum unchewed but brightened as Daria snuck them a look at a secret stash.

Daria checked the clock; she sighed and bit her lip, then tried to calm some butterflies hatching in her tummy.

"Okay, let's get this circus side-show on the road. Girls, places, I need your help and forty acres to turn this rig around."

Queen Quinn gave her a hug, then went ahead to take up her spot in the cathedral. As Daria paced slowly down the halls of the old Lawndale High School converted to royal offices and apartments her nerves were soothed by the no-nonsense Zippotronian guards coming to attention and more by the gum-popping from the attending twins. She was even happy to make the walk alone without bridesmaids, happy for a little peace even as she may feel like she was a butterfly specimen under the magnifying lens.

Daria had no trouble forming a smile as they rounded a corner and came in range of the first galacto-vid cameras arrayed before the door to the cathedral. Jake Morgendorffer, Queen Father, beamed at her and extended an arm. Members of the Zippotronian military threw open the doors; the traditional wedding march began and Daria heard the rustle of Quinn's subjects standing up.

Any doubts or nerves were curb kicked as Daria saw Sandi smiling at her from in front on the arm of her father. Her brothers Chris and Sam were filling in as bridesmen or whatever it would be called in female same-sex nuptials. They were standing quietly to the pastor's left, having been coaxed into decorum by entreaties from Queen Quinn.

"I'm really doing it. I'm getting married. God, Sandi's so beautiful. I...I can't wait to get her out of that get up. Okay, just a few more hours. I'm grinning? Okay, not too much teeth now. Dad's giving me to her. I'm the girl then and she's the boy? But she planned the wedding. I'm to the pastor's right so I am the bride, right? Oh, who cares? I wonder if she's wearing a garter too. I hope so; I'll rip it off with my teeth and toss it straight to Prince Trent. The minister is saying something. I should listen and not miss my cues."

Daria respected how important Sandi's faith was to her but she perhaps would have preferred a secular wedding.

"There has to be an omniscient, omnipotent god to bring Sandi and me together considering what we were both like in high school before we Zippotronians assumed power. Okay, that's pillow talk for, like, maybe two months from now. Wait, what's the pastor saying? I better shut up and listen to her."

Pastor Smythe was finishing the love passages from I Corinthians, a passage which Daria had to admit she needed to grow into.

"Another topic ripe for pillow talk. Okay, when she asks if I 'take Sandi' don't scream out 'I do! Yes! Yes! Right Here'. Quinn and I practiced how to say it with dignity. And no mushy, sloppy kiss, that's for later, just a demure peck on the lips for now."

Pastor Smythe was preparing to ask the 'I do' questions when a cry rent the air, "Not so fast."

Not so much a cry as the impassioned start of a well-reasoned philosophical argument in a well-reasoned, almost cold tone which Princess Daria and Queen Jane Miranda Lane Blum-Deckler immediately knew the source of.

"Tom!" Jane and Daria yelled as they and the guests looked around for the source of the voice which seemed to come from everywhere. Daria instinctively grabbed Sandi tightly.

"Tom, what the hell are you doing?" Jane said as she pointed up.

Thomas Sloane's bg head was leaning out of the driver side window of an early-model, beat-up blue Jaguar sedan hanging there in mid-air above the assembled cathedral throng.

Troopers were deploying Zippotronian containment weapons but before they could strike an orange fireball streaked towards the Jag with the words, "No one disrupts my big sis' wedding. I've been planning this for months."

Queen Quinn's talent of lobbing fireballs appeared to be ineffective as the fire was contained in a sphere in which it went out. A matching mauve fire streak from the Queen Yueliang Selena Tungol Lunati Mona Tsagaan Sar Tiffany Blum-Deckler met the same fate.
Before Supreme Armed-Forces Commander Helen could give orders Sandi was snatched from Daria's grasp.

"Eap," Sandi gasped as she rose into the air.

"Eap," Tactical Battle Instructor and Cosmic Morale Officer Brittany Taylor gasped as she rose into the air.

"Hey, this ain't cool, bro," Chief Dustman Kevin Thompson gasped as he rose into the air, tuxedo tails flapping.

Limbs flailing the three floated towards open passenger doors of the Jag. Not wanting to hit the hostages, Supreme Commander Helen motioned for a stand-down.

"Sloane," Sandi addressed him while she hung in space. "What is the meaning of this? I told you we were, like, through after you took me to that retro burger place, ewww, and got all handsy on our second date. And, like, cargo pants with bulging pockets? Proper men's attire for a wedding is a suit."

"I thought you were cool and wanted the good things a Sloane fortune could provide. Then I got bored when you wouldn't even give me a smooch on the cheek. It happens all the time," Tom addressed her as the captive trio floated into the Jag.

The doors closed. Sandi, Brittany and Kevin now appeared to be asleep, slumped in their seats in the beat-up luxury car.

Tom opened the door and leaned out against his shoulder belts.

Daria commanded, "Tom, put Sandi down here this instant. And Brittany and Kevin too, I guess, while you're at it."

"Sandi dated Tom? When? Still, there are a lot of boys she dated in the Tri-State area which she can't even remember. But hey, I'm the only girl for her."

"No Daria, you Zippotronians aren't the only ones with an Empire now. My dad's scientists and I designed Sloane's Sliding Prismatic Universe. What kind of jerk would I be if I didn't take advantage of it and bring Sandi along to see it? She loves to have fun shopping and I've salted the Universe with lots of exclusive stores packing the best from your own soon to be second rate galaxy. I need Taylor to command and cheer up my armies and Kevin to uh, tidy up. Sandi would get bored with you anyway. It's nobody's fault."

Tom closed the door and put his hands on the steering wheel. A throbbing hum sounded from the hood of the Jag.

"But if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me, Daria. Just come alone and don't tell anyone where you're going. None of this imperial guard stuff or Queens who throw multi-colored flame balls. Oh hi, Jane. You're looking cool as ever, even for a Queen."

Before Jane could respond, Tom made a gear-shifting motion and Tom and the Jag disappeared.

Separating sounds broke the stunned silence as Daria tugged at strategic spots of her wedding gown. The gown pulled apart and Daria stepped out to reveal a battle-ready skin-tight cat suit. Only it did and she didn't. The gown pulled apart to reveal the lingerie, modest to be sure but revealing to be equally sure, which Daria had planned for her first night of wedded bliss. A cathedral's worth of spectators discovered her secret taste in aubergine-shaded lingerie which went quite well actually with her high black boots.

"Eap," broke that occasion of stunned silence.

Princess Monday Mitsuki passed a five-spondilak bill to her smirking short-haired twin, Princess Monday Mika, who accepted it and said, "See, dummy? I told you she wouldn't have on ishy mustard yellow underwear."

"How were they expecting to collect on that bet?" Daria wondered even as the cathedral's occupants gave gasps of shock and fine appreciation.

Thecla, Daria's batman and chief guard, rushed forward shielding her from many of the audience by towering over the shorter woman with her impressive six-foot five-inch, trim, muscular frame. Zippotronian guards surrounded her, facing outwards as she shrunk into herself and tried to cover as much as possible with her hands. A larger contingent of the Queen's guards were hustling Queen Quinn from the cathedral.

"Troops, clear the room before that blighter tries more mischief. You lot in Bravo Company see to safety of the Lunar and Venusian royal guests," the tall guardswoman commanded.

"All roight, all roight, what's all this, then?" Thecla barked at the crowd. "You all act like you've never seen it before. I mean a woman, then, not specifically the Princess Daria's unmentionables. Roight then."

WARRIOR PRINCESS DARIA - KING DARIA?

Daria donned her black flexible ceramo-chitinous armoured cat suit which a quick-thinking guard produced and slipped a black visored motorcycle helmet over her head.

"Your Highness, your steed awaits." Thecla guided her and attending guards out a side door. In the alley guards were quickly cutting cords tied with empty cans of Ultra Cola, likely a parting gift of Queen Quinn and Queen Jane, away from the purring green, gold and black Harley Davidson Sky-Skimmer 12000. Daria mounted the throbbing machine and prepared to depart.

"Sandi should be behind me on this ride. I'll get you for that, Sloane."

Thecla placed a hand on Daria's shoulder. "Daria, you're going to need some weapons, lass."

They were friends and in the presence of the Daria's personal guard they were on a first name basis.

"And I want us to follow you; discreetly, of course, just a few chosen lads and lasses. That cad will never know we're there until we fix his wagon."

Daria sucked in her lips. "Thanks, Thec. I think I'm in this alone for now. Tom's pretty bright and he's had years to plan this; I don't want to risk their lives, not even Kevin's. But I do need a weapon besides the boot I'm going to put up his ass and I know where to find it, the one place on Earth where maybe no one was watching and recording what color my panties are."

Thecla nodded gravely. As her guard saluted Daria rose into the air and turned east. The Sky-Skimmer made short work of several time zones and she soon landed in a wind-swept meadow in Wales.

She removed her helmet and skirted a crowd of about two score men.

"Who's next?" cried an elderly, bearded man in flowing blue robes and tall peaked blue cap. "Who wants to see if they have what it takes to be rightwyse born kynge of all Logres?"

As Daria watched, a Welshman the size of a small mountain strode up to a grey boulder. Upright in the stone was a sword hilt and six inches of gleaming blade. With nonchalant self-assurance the man-mountain pulled one-handed at the hilt. His eyes bugged n consternation when nothing budged. He spit on his hands, put both ham-sized paws on the hilt and wrenched so hard Daria expected the stone to come off the ground. The crowd jeered and booed as the robed one ushered him away.

"But, but, look," he protested bringing a worn bit of much-folded paper from his back pocket. "This 'ere family tree shows I'm King Artie's great-great-great-great…"

"Aye, aye," The wizened wizard-looking one said. "Many have such lineage or claim it but it be worthiness the sword is seeking and testing. Now, who's next?"

A dozen men queued up but Daria could not wait. A few whispers of "The Princess!" and, as she feared, chortles of "Purple knickers!" sounded as she pushed to the stone.

"Forgive me, sir." She politely addressed the old man. "But I have need of Caledfwlch."

The old man said nothing as the crowd grumbled. The stand-in Merlin gestured for silence then bowed and swept his hand at the sword. Daria swiped a hand-sanitizer wipe over the hilt before gently withdrawing Caledfwlch with no apparent effort.

Sword flashing in the sun as she held it aloft, she ignored the astonished cries from the crowd being more intent on figuring out if she felt like she were left or right-handed that day which had a bearing on how to carry the sword. Quasi-Merlin was unfazed as he bowed to her again.

"She pulled it out of the stone like it were a Christmas plum, she did." "Is she our kynge then?" "She's prettier than anyone else who tried. I say let's keep her." "She got married to that foxy Minister of Sanitation and Fashion; I'd say that shows her good sense to rule all Logres, or whatever we're calling ourselves this week." "She wasn't married yet, remember you yob? That blighter Sloane filched the bride, er, the other bride off." "Sloane? Must be an Englishman." "How come she could pull it out when our strapping lads just fell on their arses?" "It's a magic sword and stone, ya daft loon. She's worthy, she is."

The old man presented her with a plain, black leather scabbard. Daria finally decided to be right-handed and hung the blade and scabbard over her shoulder accordingly. She turned to address the still restive crowd.

"Good people of Wales." she began.

"Good people of Wales? Whoa, walk back the Monty Python a bit."

"Good people of Wales and loyal subjects of Zippotron."

"Ye gods, that's even worse. Well, gauche to start over again."

"I will not be your king, queen, benevolent or otherwise despot. I personally believe you should have a parliamentary system, direct democracy if you're small enough. But that is for you to decide. Caledfwlch is the greatest sword in the world and I need it to get back my bride. I shall return it to the stone when my quest is fulfilled. I pledge to attend the coronation of whoever draws it forth or the inauguration of a president if you go that route. For simple anarchist collectives you're on your own."

Daria remounted the Sky-Skimmer and flew west ignoring a few cries of "Hail Kynge Daria" and "Good luck lassie" and "Where can my girlfriend get those knickers?"