DISCLAIMER: "Daria" and its characters are property of MTV Networks. I do not intend to make any profits off of this story.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Before I begin, this ficlet is a response to WacoKid's Iron Chef Challenge "In Your Room" on the Paperpusher Message Board. The story takes place within the season one episode "The Lab Brat". This is also my first attempt at a "Daria" fic so wish me luck!
Bedroom
"Brittany, my dearest, I feel the air is awfully silent in here. Could you make your way up to my boudoir and retrieve my Marvin Gaye album, my dear?"
"Oh no, not up there again!" whined Brittany Taylor.
"Hush, hush, my sweet," Charles Ruttheimer III, better known to the rest of Lawndale High as Upchuck, tapped his index finger to his leering grin, "You've been so good about our little, ahem, deal. It's only one more night until we have to present our project to Ms. Barch's class tomorrow. If you refuse to do my bidding…" Upchuck then showed off the incriminating Polaroid to Brittany, waving the photographic evidence of infidelity in front of her face, "Everyone will know, including your dear 'Kevvy'. Now go on and get it on…"
A slimy chill filled its way through Brittany's slender body as Upchuck let out one of his patented sleazy growls. Grunting, Brittany made her way out of Upchuck's garage into the hallway leading up to a tall staircase.
"Oooph! That icky little weasely skunk! I'm so sick and tired of him pushing me around like some little observant!" grumbled Brittany as she stomped her way up the stairs, feeling her large…blonde pigtails bouncing with each step. "But if I disobey him, then Kevin will dump me for those vicious…vixen…Morgendorffer sisters! They'll trap him in their house making him watch the Pigskin channel and baking him a bunch of cakes!"
She growled under her breath but it had about as much power as a kitten mewing. Once she made her way up the stairs, she made her way towards Upchuck's bedroom, "The Lovers' Den" as he called it which the small sign on the wooden door clearly indicated. Brittany opened the door and stepped onto the deep burgundy shag carpet. She brushed her way past the impeccably made king sized bed decorated with soft, silk pillows and black bed sheets. Old centerfolds of busty Playboy bunnies were pasted onto the warm beige walls. The visuals only made Brittany shudder as she remembered filing through each filthy magazine.
She turned to the left and noticed the Polaroid camera sitting upon a stack of books on top of the dresser. That damn camera. That's how this trouble all got started in the first place! she thought as she looked at the fish tank just by the bed.
"Hmmm…"
Brittany twirled her pigtail in her finger. A mischievous grin crept onto her pink glossed lips. This wouldn't be the first time a wily, destructive thought would come into her head this week. She already stole Daria and Kevin's mouse for their project; it was time to get payback from being Upchuck's slave for a week.
"If Upchuck's gonna ruin me then I'm gonna ruin him! Who cares about his Marvin Martian CD?!" said Brittany as she reached for the camera.
Once she lifted up the camera, she noticed sparkling graphics spelling out the title of the book on top of the stack.
"Huh?"
"The Magician's Guide: Volume 2"
The cover featured a black top hat with magical swirls of blues, turquoises and magentas spilling out.
He never said anything about wanting to be a magician…
Brittany put down the camera on the dresser and picked up the book and noticed there was a photograph sticking out from in between the pages. She opened the book to find the impromptu bookmark was a fairy old, glossy image of four young boys. A small, freckled boy with a curly, red haired afro stood alongside two other boys around his age but both with darker brown hair, each boy holding red plastic cups. Out in the front was a slightly older, taller boy with a felt bowler hat resting on top of his shaggy auburn hair. His facial structure bore a strong resemblance to Upchuck. Crushed crimson velvet fabric was draped over his shoulders as he stretched his gloved hand out towards the photographer while holding a black plastic rod in his other hand. He had a lively, warm smile and a spark in his narrow brown eyes. It looked as if this boy's energy had spread to the other boys surrounding him in the picture.
That same energy captured in the photo made Brittany let out a small smile. However, there was another sheet of paper that was originally concealed by the top book on the pile. It was a thin, fading clipping from the newspaper. She picked up the snipped article to take a closer look.
That same boy with the bowler hat in the previous photo was in another, smaller picture in the paper. He clearly looked much older and even a little handsome. That shining smile still remained. Brittany's attention and mood shifted when she looked at the larger picture beside the boy: a makeshift memorial on the side of the road. A wreath of flowers was clinging onto a white wooden cross among a plethora of roses, candles and stuffed animals. Brittany then read the bold headline: Lawndale Locals Remember Ruttheimer.
She glanced back at the boy in the picture and the headline. Her mouth dropped. She scanned the text beneath the headline.
It has been a week since local resident and Lawndale Middle School student Nathaniel Ruttheimer's death but his family and friends have been keeping the thirteen year old in their thoughts. "Even from an early age, I could tell that there was something charismatic about him," said his mother Paula, 40. But perhaps his youngest brother, Charles, 10, will miss him most. "He was a great big brother. I loved having him around but now I'll never see him again." Ruttheimer was killed as a result from being hit from a drunk driver.
Brittany couldn't bring herself to read the rest of the article. A heavy sad sigh escaped from her.
"Oh," she whispered to herself.
"Oh, Brittany! It's getting awfully quiet down here!" Upchuck hollered from downstairs in the garage.
Brittany carefully put away the newspaper article, placed the magician's guide on top of it and gently put the camera on top of the pile. She quietly walked over to the CD rack, absent-mindedly grabbed an album and slinked out of the room and closed the bedroom door behind her.
The End