This is the tenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe. It follows
- "Rose-Colored Lenses,"
- "The Tie That Chokes,"
- "That Thing You Say,"
- "'Shipped Out,"
- "Andrea Speaks!",
- "Cheered Down,"
- "None in the Family, Part One,"
- "None in the Family, Part Two," and
- "Outvoted."
I've been channeling Peter Guerin as of late. The title of my last fanfic sounded like one of his ("Outvoted"/ "Outbitched"), and both were about Sandi. And the title of this fic shortens to O.A.V. Coincidence?? ;-)
I give this one a..... tah-dah 1.5S! I never thought I'd see one of those again...
So be happy you'll have less eyestrain this time around, and enjoy!!
Ten Spot Promo: The one where those official guys are having a stare-down with the female spy. They try to tape record her, but she refuses to talk...
[intro theme music...................]
OF ABSOLUTE VALUE
byKara Wild
SCENE 1 (Quinn's room, Morgendorffer house, evening)
(Shot of the outside. We hear Quinn's voice-over: )
QUINN: (on the phone. fawning) Oh of course we would --
(Cut to close-up of Tiffany and Stacy sitting on the floor, watching Quinn off screen -- Stacy's eager and nervous, Tiffany's about as close to registering emotion as she possibly could be.)
QUINN: (off screen) Nothing but the best for you and the gang, Mr. Reynaldo. (long Pause) Uh-huh... uh-huh... uh-huh...
(Tiffany and Stacy glance at each other, cross their fingers. Pan over to show Quinn sitting on her bed, her ear against the cordless phone, looking fairly business-like and calm. Slowly her face brightens.)
QUINN: Uh-huh? (gets a big smile.) Uh-huh?! (Pause. then, sounding as though she can barely contain her glee: ) Yes. I mean no -- we won't let you down. Talk to you soon. Bye. (clicks off the phone, looks at her underlings with a satisfied smirk.) It is done.
(Cut to wide shot of all three. Tiffany smirks, while Stacy gets that hyperventilating look on her face.)
STACY: (eyes practically popping out) You got him to sponsor the Fashion Expo?! The Fashion Expo's coming to OUR school??!
QUINN: Yep. Now settle down St--
STACY: Whooo-hoooo!!!
(She jumps up and grabs Quinn in a bear hug, practically knocking her backward. Meanwhile Tiffany's looking at her with definite respect.)
TIFFANY: (obsequious) You're a genius, Quinn.
QUINN: (nonchalant) Duh. (peels Stacy off of her.) It was nothing, really. You just gotta know how to talk the talk, butter 'em up and stuff.
STACY: But Sandi tried a gazillion times to get the Fashion Expo to come, and it never worked out.
(Quinn smirks -- Stacy has just unwittingly said exactly what she wanted to hear.)
QUINN: (faux humble) Yes, well some people just aren't blessed with that natural capability. We really shouldn't blame the poor girl.
STACY: Yeah. (Bt) I wonder how she's managing as vice-president.
(Quinn's smirk fades.)
TIFFANY: This'll make our school, like, the fashion center of the whole district.
STACY: Maybe even the county! (Bt) You're the best, Quinn.
QUINN: (regaining her former glee) Aw, you guys. (Bt) Well with the Expo coming up in less than two weeks, we'll have to put in a lot of work -- (suddenly interrupted from off screen: )
HELEN: (calling) Quinn!
(Quinn freezes, gets a wary look on her face. Tiffany and Stacy don't make a sound, hoping their silence will convince Helen that no one's there and make her stop calling. Nope.)
HELEN: (off screen) Quinn! Get down here, young lady!
JAKE: (off screen) Yeah, young lady, get down here!!
HELEN: Jake -- I already said that!
JAKE: (meek) Oh. Yeah, right.
(Quinn sighs and rolls her eyes.)
QUINN: Great. Those people who live with me want me for something.
TIFFANY: Bummer.
STACY: Shhhh, it'll be okay. (pats Quinn's arm reassuringly.)
QUINN: (groaning) I'll be right back.
(She jumps off the bed and heads for the door.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 2 (living room)
(Shot of Quinn coming down the stairs, looking extremely vexed. At the base, we see Helen and Jake standing there, equally pissed off.)
QUINN: (not cowed by their demeanor) Whatever this is, could you, like, make it fast?? My friends are upstairs.
HELEN: Don't use that tone of -- (Quinn sweeps past her and heads toward the couch -- she knows the drill.) um, sit... er...
JAKE: (at the same time) Yeah, young lady, don't use that -- (watches her go.) um... yeah...
(Cut to shot of the couches. Daria is sitting on the center couch, reading a newspaper. She lowers it ever-so-slightly to observe the action. Quinn flops down on the right hand couch and folds her arms.)
QUINN: (to her parents, as they're coming over) Is this about my date last night?? 'Cause if so, I'm telling you that he wasn't, like, thirty. He just looks very mature for his age, and so he has a job an' some stock opt--
HELEN: Quinn. (sits down to the left of Daria, so she's between her and Quinn. Jake sits down on the other side of Quinn.) We'll discuss that later. Right now we're on the subject of your performance at school.
QUINN: ("oh is that all?") What about it??
JAKE: Well, sweetie, your mom got a call this afternoon, and --
HELEN: Jake, I can speak for myself, thank you. (Bt) Yes, sweetheart, your math teacher phoned this aftern--
QUINN: What, Mr. Phelps?! (melodramatic) Does that man, like, follow me around an' spy on me so, like, whenever I'm having a good time, he can, like, come down on me with his mean, oppressive rules and demands???
DARIA: (deadpan) You mean make you learn?
(Quinn glares at her.)
HELEN: Quinn, he's concerned about your grade in math, and so are we. He said that you're in danger of failing, and he's arranged a parent-teacher conference to discuss your options.
QUINN: Well great. So is that it? (starts to get up.)
(Helen sighs heavily.)
HELEN: I wish you would take these things more seriously, Quinn.
QUINN: (flopping down again) Mo-om, things'll turn out fine, I promise. With some cramming on the final exam, I can pull myself up back to a C, no problem.
DARIA: Nothing like an unshakable work ethic.
HELEN: (serious. weary) Quinn, don't you ever give any thought to your future?
QUINN: (exasperated) Of course I do! Duh! Like for instance, the Fashion Expo's coming to our school thanks to yours truly, an' --
HELEN: You know that's not what I'm talking about. (glances over at Jake, who's starting to nod off.) Jake, back me up!
JAKE: (coming back to life) Oh -- erm... sure, hon. (Bt. to Quinn) She means important stuff, sweetie.
QUINN: (looking wounded) But the Fashion Expo is important. (Bt) Maybe you don't care about fashion, but think of all those poor, pathetic loser girls who can finally find the role models they need. If afterward, we've touched one life, it'll have been worth it.
DARIA: A new case of bulimia is born.
QUINN: (oblivious) You wanna talk a bunch of silly numbers? Then let me tell you since I became Fashion Club president, fashion faux pas have dropped twenty percent to an all-time low, wearers of capri pants have doubled, pore cleansing purchases have tripled, and if I had to count all the people who --
HELEN: (curt) Quinn, enough. (Bt) I was talking about the distant future.
QUINN: Huh?
DARIA: The time when your hair can only get its bouncy cuteness out of a bottle.
QUINN: (horrified expression) Hgh! I don't wanna think that far ahead!
HELEN: (weary) Exactly what I thought you'd say. (Bt) You know, Quinn, I've always loved knowing that you lead a vibrant, active lifestyle -- but there comes a time when you have to reassess your priorities . Look at the bigger picture. I was hoping it would happen when we fixed your vision, but... I guess I was mistaken.
(Quinn frowns, looking sort of hurt.)
HELEN: But don't think you're getting away with anything. (sighs) Ugh, tomorrow I'll have to get my secretary to come down to your school and --
JAKE: (chuckling a little) Y' know it's funny: I'd been planning to take the afternoon off tomorrow...
HELEN: (oblivious) -- I'd hate to lose her as back-up during a meeting with the partners, but family crises always come --
JAKE: (sort of mumbling) So I mean really... it'd be no trouble at all for me... to...
HELEN: Let this be a lesson to you, Quinn, the next --
DARIA: Uh, Mom. (nods toward Jake.)
HELEN: What?? (Pause) Jake? Is there something you wanted to say?
(Beat)
JAKE: I could, um, see Quinn's math teacher tomorrow.
(Beat)
HELEN: (discouraging tone) Now, Jake, are you sure you know what you're getting into?
(Jake gets a slightly repentant look on his face, which both Daria and Quinn notice.)
DARIA: Mom, perhaps you might recall what you and Dad talked about.
HELEN: Talked about??
QUINN: (crafty expression) Yeah, Mom, let Dad go.
JAKE: (pleading expression) Yeah, honey. Remember what you said -- that I could have more responsibility with the girls?? [*] see "None in the Family, Part Two"
(Pause)
HELEN: (looking uncomfortable) Oh. Right. I did say that, didn't I? (Bt) Well okay, Jakey, you can go in Marianne's place. You do know the way, right??
JAKE: Know the way?? (does an enthusiastic fist pump.) What kind of idiot d' you think I am?? I've been to our kids' school before!
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 3 (the next afternoon)
(Shot of the outside of a high school. The sign outside reads "Cumberland High." We see Jake's car drive up to it. Cut to close-up of Jake, frowning and looking at the sign.)
JAKE: Hmm, something's not quite right...
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 4 (Phelps's classroom, Lawndale High, a short time later)
(Shot of Phelps seated at his desk with hands folded, a tray of tea and coffee goods beside him. As stated in "Andrea Speaks!" and "Cheered Down," he's a balding, fifty-something year old with an air of formality. On the whole, he looks very well-kept [even Quinn would find little fault with his grooming habits], and at present is wearing a Mr. Rogers-style cardigan over a vest, a starched white shirt, and a tie. His expression is pretty deadpan, but we can see impatience creeping up along the edges.)
(Cut to shot of the outside of Lawndale High. We see the Lexus barrel up to the front and screech to a halt. The driver's side door flies open -- Jake jumps out and hastens toward the entrance.)
(Cut to shot of Phelps. He eyes his watch, then sighs and starts to stand up. Suddenly, from off screen: )
JAKE: Wha-whoa wait! No need to leave, my good man, sit down.
(Cut to wider shot. Jake rushes up to Phelps and shakes his hand, herky-jerky style.)
JAKE: The name's Jake Morgendorffer -- Quinn Morgendorffer's father. Now what d' you say we get down to business?
(He moves to sit down on top of a desk, but unfortunately is too heavy. The desk tips forward, sending Jake to the ground. Phelps watches this display with a raised brow.)
PHELPS: (dry) I'm Alfred Phelps. And I'd all but given up on you.
(Chuckling sheepishly, Jake picks himself up and squeezes himself into the desk chair with some difficulty.)
JAKE: Eh-heh, no, I just got caught up in... um... (looks around the room, trying to change the subject.) Gee, this is sure a nice room you've got here.
PHELPS: It's like all the others. (Bt) You don't come here very often, do you?
JAKE: I do so! (Phelps gives him a penetrating look, which causes him to crumble.) Well I... once.
(Phelps sighs.)
PHELPS: You're like so many other parents, Mr. Morgendorffer. Too consumed by the grind of everyday life to give your children the time and energy they deserve.
JAKE: Oh no, you've got me all wrong! I wouldn't've come here if I wasn't one hundred percent devoted to my kid. (pounds the desk for emphasis.) I'm ready to hear what you've got to say. (looks off to the side, notices the tray on Phelps's desk.) Ooh -- cookies!
PHELPS: (sighing) Yes, help yourself. (Jake wiggles out of the desk and grabs a bunch, then sits back down, stuffing them one by one into his mouth.) They're called "English tea biscuits," actually. I take my tea in here instead of the lounge because I can't tolerate those other instructors -- with their bulging eyes, their whining, their man-hating... (shudders a little.) But now, Mr. Morgendorffer, let's begin disc-- Mr. Morgendorffer?
(We see Jake stuffing the last of the biscuits into his mouth and licking the crumbs off of his fingers, oblivious.)
PHELPS: Mr. Morgendorffer! (slaps his desk, scowls. Jake is startled back into alertness.) This is serious. Quinn's welfare is at stake. (Bt) You do realize that she's in danger of failing??
JAKE: (cowering a little) Um... as much as in her other classes?
(Beat)
PHELPS: (quiet exasperation) I wouldn't know. But what makes her slide in my class disturbing is that she's naturally gifted in the subject matter.
JAKE: She is? (Bt. disbelief) You're talking about Quinn, right?
PHELPS: (without bothering to acknowledge the question) She has a talent for working with numbers. Coordinating them, matching them, distributing them so that they form the right combinations. It's a talent not too many people have.
(Beat)
JAKE: This is Quinn, you're talking about?? I mean, not some other girl who just looks like Quinn? Not Dar--
PHELPS: Yes, Quinn. Quinn, Mr. Morgendorffer. She could excel in math if she ever put her mind to it, and from there, who knows where she could go?? All she needs is the proper encouragement. (pointed look at Jake as he says this.)
JAKE: (still stunned) Wow, Quinn...
PHELPS: A few months ago, I got my hopes up when, without explanation, she started attending class regularly. It was as if, for the first time, she actually wanted to be taught. She was focusing, absorbing, showing an amazing turn-around, and... needless to say, her plunge has upset me greatly.
JAKE: Yeah. Um, I could see how it would.
PHELPS: (raising a brow) But what's been damaged can be mended. Meaning, your daughter could pull herself up to a respectable grade by the end of this term.
JAKE: (a little cowed by Phelps's intensity) Well, um, yeah. Sure, why not? I mean, if she's so smart, like you say...
PHELPS: And perhaps more.
JAKE: More?
(Beat)
PHELPS: At the end of the term, we math instructors hold our bi-annual entrance examination for Higher Algebra and Trigonometry. It's a class normally taught to juniors... but I think Quinn could make it in. Don't you?
JAKE: (chuckling) But Quinn's only a sopho-- (gets it.) ohhh.
(Beat)
PHELPS: So I offer this to you as a challenge, Mr. Morgendorffer. Do your part as a parent. Sit with Quinn every night for at least an hour. And make sure she attends class each day. I'll do the rest.
(Jake nods frantically. Phelps leans closer to him, looks him directly in the eye.)
PHELPS: (slowly) If we work together, we can make Quinn realize her full potential.
JAKE: (still nodding frantically) Right. Of course...
PHELPS: Oh, and one last thing: I'd prefer to keep my future plans for Quinn between us, if that's all right. Just focus on helping her in the here-and-now.
JAKE: Oh I will. I will...
(cut to: )
SCENE 5 (Morgendorffer house, evening)
(Shot of the outside.)
JAKE: (off screen voice-over) Quinn's gonna be a GENIUS!!!
(Cut to shot of the four Morgendorffers sitting at dinner. Jake is very animated, while Daria watches him impassively, and Helen with pleasure and surprise -- mostly surprise. Quinn looks pale and stunned.)
JAKE: He said all I gotta do is sit with her every night and then whammo -- she could go anywhere! Well I'm up for the challenge! I've been known to push around the old slide rule in my day.
QUINN: A what??
DARIA: (deadpan) I think the modern slang term for it is "calculator," Dad.
JAKE: Oh. Right. (chuckles.)
(Beat)
HELEN: Well, Jakey, it sounds like you got a lot out of your talk with Mr. Phelps. But I'm sure he meant for both of us to--
QUINN: (crafty) Yeah, um, Dad, are you sure you understood what Mr. Phelps was saying?? 'Cause he can, like, use a lot of really big, confusing words.
JAKE: (looking confused) Well he... seemed pretty clear to me.
HELEN: (glaring sideways at Quinn) Jake, can't you see she's just trying to trip you up?? (Bt. to Quinn) You know, sweetie, this could be your wake-up call. Why not use this opportunity -- (Quinn gets a sour look on her face.) -- to focus on the rest of your studies?
QUINN: (frustrated) But dammit, I don't have time to focus on school! I've got really important plans I have to deal with!
(Pause. She gets a cold look from Helen.)
HELEN: Well make time.
JAKE: Yeah, sweetie -- I'll figure out a way to make learning really fun!
QUINN: Ughhh...
DARIA: Yes, Quinn: get in touch with your inner brain. (smirks wickedly.)
QUINN: Ughhhhhhhh!!! (stands up abruptly.) That's it! I can't take this anymore. I'm gonna go upstairs to... be... sick, now. (stumbles away.)
(The other members of her family watch her go. Then Jake turns to Helen and Daria and waves a hand nonchalantly.)
JAKE: Aw, she's just a little nervous. But wait'll she sees all the really neat stuff I'm gonna do for her. I'll get started now! (jumps up, dashes away.)
(Pause. Daria watches him go, then cocks an eyelid at Helen.)
DARIA: Well, well: I'm impressed.
HELEN: So am I. I've never seen your father so energized.
DARIA: Yeah -- he's awake after dinner. (Bt) But actually, I was referring to your uncommon show of restraint. You didn't try too hard to take the reins from him.
HELEN: Oh come on, Daria, what makes you think I'd do something like that? (gets a pointed look from Daria. conceding) Well look, he said he wanted the chance to prove his parenting skills, and I'm willing to have faith in him.
DARIA: (subtly impressed) Hmm, then maybe your separation wasn't a total waste.
HELEN: And besides, if he messes up, I'll be right nearby to pick up the pieces...
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 6 (Quinn's room, late evening)
(Shot of her door as seen from the outside.)
QUINN: (off screen voice-over) My life is over!!!
(Cut to an overhead shot of Quinn. She's sprawled across the bed in a crucifixion pose, the cordless phone against her ear.)
QUINN: (melodramatic) My parents are, like, chaining me to the stupid kitchen table every night just 'cause I'm failing math!
(Split the screen to form three triangles, containing Quinn, Tiffany, and Stacy. Quinn's on tele-conference call.)
TIFFANY: Bummer.
STACY: But weren't you doing well at one --?
QUINN: They're gonna make me slave away studying for the next dumb test, when I should be working on the Fashion Expo!
STACY: Dumb Mr. Phelps. He gives too many tests.
TIFFANY: Yeah. He's so weird.
STACY: I wish he'd never transferred here from that stupid prep school.
TIFFANY: He could really use some new outfits.
STACY: Yeah, like maybe he could get one of those cute little--
QUINN: Guys! (Bt) Ugh, look, what that means is I'm gonna have to put more responsibility on you. Ordering the food, the flowers, stuff like that.
STACY: On us?? (looks a little intimidated.)
QUINN: Think you can handle it?
TIFFANY: Suuuuure. (gets a delighted smirk.)
QUINN: Great.
STACY: But what'll you be able to do??
QUINN: Hey, don't worry -- I'll be there to wine and dine Mr. Reynaldo and the rest of the Defense of Cute Animals Society. (Bt. chuckles) I mean, I shouldn't have too much trouble ditching my dad. He's not exactly all there, if you know what I mean. (chuckles again.)
(Pause)
STACY: Your dad?? I thought he was your uncle.
(Pause)
QUINN: Oh. Well... he likes it when I call him "Dad." Makes him feel important.
STACY: Oh.
(Beat)
TIFFANY: But your mom's your mom, right??
QUINN: Oh. Yeah.
(Pause. Quinn chuckles nervously.)
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 7 (kitchen, a short time later)
(Shot of the kitchen table. It's covered with scattered papers, a notebook, an Algebra/Geometry text book, pencils, calculator -- the whole shebang. We now see Quinn walk toward the table uneasily , then collapse into a chair. She leans one elbow on the table and places her head in hand. Then, with her other hand, she picks up a pencil and stares at it suspiciously, as if it's an alien object. Finally Quinn sets it down and lets it roll across the table. Just then, we see Daria come up to her.)
QUINN: (wary) Don't say it.
DARIA: (smirking) That you're well-stocked for your journey to Nerdville?
QUINN: Yes.
DARIA: Well don't worry -- I don't have to. 'Cause congratulations: you've already crossed over.
(Quinn glares at her resentfully, then looks at the math materials, and wilts.)
[Shot of Jake falling off the desk in Mr. Phelps's classroom.]
You are now entering commercial HEAVEN. Laaaaaaaaaaaaa... We're so very happy to have you with us. Just sit back and let yourself be soothed by some of the grooviest commercials put on television.
- "Next Wednesday, on the Ten Spot: Helen's in Amanda Lane's sculpture class? Daria's proactive?? Has the world gone mad??? Find out next week on an all-new 'Daria.'"
[To John Berry: this is what you do when you aren't able to follow up a preview clip with an actual episode. You just blame the MTV programmers for having stupidity that knows no bounds, and claim that they pre-empted your fic with "One Hundred Ways for Teenagers to Have Sex." But, due to a massive letter writing campaign by devoted fans of "Daria," the programmers decided to air your fic after all -- but they aired the wrong fic by mistake! D'OH!!! Those stupid clowns... off with their heads.]
- Those anti-smoking commercials. Some of them -- not the super-preachy ones that show empty playgrounds or girls getting turned off by that cute boy who puffs -- are extremely clever. Especially the ones that show clips from the tobacco industry's appearance before Congress. They always make me think twice about picking up the habit... or they would, if not for the fact that I've never thought once about it... ;-)
- Those commercials that advertise the greatest hits from a certain decade. Don't know how, but somehow they've always made me come this close to rushing for the phone and ordering. They play the best music and show the best clips from certain bands. So far, I've been able to resist impulse buying, but some day, the Demon Music lover may prove too strong for me...
You are now leaving commercial HEAVEN. Y'all come back soon now, ya hear?
OF ABSOLUTE VALUE
SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer house, that same time)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen sitting at the edge of the bed in her and Jake's room, sorting through papers in her opened briefcase. Just then Jake rushes in, carrying a load of wacky knick-knacks and wearing a sweatshirt. He thrusts a couple of objects toward Helen.)
JAKE: Hey honey, what d' you think??
HELEN: (looking up from her stuff) Jake, what are those??
JAKE: Pencil cozies! (Bt) Aren't they cute little guys?? You attach 'em to the eraser, and suddenly your pencil becomes really neat!
HELEN: (amused) And just what's the point of having them?
JAKE: It's all part of making the learning experience fun for Quinn! She likes cute stuff. (Bt) And take a look at this! (spreads his arms out to reveal the message on his sweatshirt.)
HELEN: (reading) "What are you looking at... geek?"
JAKE: Cool, huh??
HELEN: I guess. (Bt) But Jake, do you really think this will help Quinn get serious about studying??
JAKE: I don't know, Helen, but what can it hurt?? Nothing else has worked so far.
HELEN: Hmm, you have a point. (Bt. shakes her head.) Well I must say, Jake: if I'd known you were going to be this excited about helping one of our girls, I'd've sent you to a parent-teacher conference months ago.
JAKE: It was that Mr. Phelps, Quinn's math teacher. He really got me thinking.
HELEN: (cocking a brow) Yes, that man can be awfully persuasive. (grumble. to herself) And irritating as hell...
JAKE: (not hearing her) It was what he said about Quinn being a natural math brain. Did you know she was gifted in math??
(Helen sighs.)
HELEN: Well, I knew she was smart -- more than she and certain other people in this house would care to admit.
JAKE: Well I didn't know. I never even gave it a thought. (Bt. gets a bleak expression on his face.) Poor little Quinn. Imagine her sitting on her math talent, scared to use it 'cause she thinks her daddy doesn't believe in her. Alone, depressed... (eyes start to bulge with rage.) resenting the hell out of me, wishing I would just drop dead, wanting to pick me up and HURL me where the sun don't --!
HELEN: Jake. Get a grip.
JAKE: (immediately pacified) Sorry.
(Beat)
HELEN: Look, if anything, we're both to blame for Quinn's performance at school. And Quinn is, too. We'll all just have to try extra hard from now on.
JAKE: Damn right I will. I'm not gonna be an unresponsive father to my little girl. I'm going downstairs right now.
HELEN: (chuckling a little) Okay, Jake.
JAKE: Have fun working, honey! (he leaves.)
(Pause. Helen watches him go, then looks at her briefcase and wilts a little.)
HELEN: Right.
(cut to: )
SCENE 2 (kitchen)
(Shot of Daria and Quinn sitting at the kitchen table. Quinn's gazing at her math book. Daria has scattered a bunch of peanuts on her side of the table, and is now opening them one at a time. After several seconds of cracking sounds, Quinn finally looks at Daria, irritated.)
QUINN: Quit trying to distract me!
(Beat)
DARIA: Brace yourself, Quinn: I actually think it's cool you're studying.
QUINN: Ha -- right! It's just 'cause I look like a dumb geek. Well don't think I care about this stuff!
(Pause. Quinn refocuses on her book, while Daria returns to cracking peanut shells. After several more seconds, Quinn looks up again, enraged.)
QUINN: Dammit, Daria, would you cut it out?! I can't concentrate!
DARIA: Well if you don't care, then this shouldn't bother you.
QUINN: Mo-om!! Daria's bugging me!
(Just then, we see Jake arrive.)
JAKE: Hey, girls.
DARIA: (to Quinn) Now I'm really convinced.
QUINN: MO-OOOM!!!
JAKE: Um, Quinn, sweetie... (pats himself.)
QUINN: (as if seeing him for the first time) Oh. Right. (Bt) Dad, make Daria stop teasing me.
JAKE: (to Daria) Hey, kiddo -- why don't you go watch some TV? (points toward the living room.)
DARIA: (deadpan) What a novel idea. I might just do that. (scoops up the peanuts, leaves.)
JAKE: That's the spirit, kiddo. (Bt) Wow -- I really am getting the hang of this parenting stuff!
(No response from Quinn. She's too busy looking at her math book with an irritated expression. Jake sits down next to her, lays all of his junk on the table.)
JAKE: Hey look, sweetie! (holds out the pencil cozies.)
(Quinn looks up, sees the cozies, gets a horrified expression on her face.)
QUINN: Eww!! What are those?!
JAKE: (wilting a little) Oh, um, you don't like them?
QUINN: No way! They're creepy!
JAKE: Oh. (hides the cozies in one of his pockets.)
(Cut to shot of Daria sitting down on the center couch and reaching for the TV remote. Having overheard this exchange, she cocks a droll eyelid. Resume shot of Quinn and Jake. Quinn's looking at the rest of Jake's stuff.)
QUINN: And what is with the rest of this stuff?? (rolls her eyes, chuckles with amusement and some condescension.) God, Dad: I'm, like, not in second grade anymore.
(Jake clears the rest of his stuff off the table with one sweep of his arm.)
JAKE: (contrite) Oh, um, yeah. I was just... (slumps forward.)
QUINN: Well look, I've got the hang of this section. So why don't you, um... go eat something or take a nap or whatever?
(Jake shrugs with muted enthusiasm.)
JAKE: Hell, why not? (gets up and leaves the table, dragging his stuff with him, a few falling on the floor in the process.)
(Quinn returns to frowning at her math book. Cut to shot of Jake in the kitchen. He dumps his junk on the counter and picks up an apple out of the fruit basket. Looks at it as though it holds the key to the universe.)
JAKE: (mumbling to it) Well she seems to be doing okay... so there's not much for me to do... (polishes the apple off on his shirt, looks about ready to take a bite, when a thought suddenly occurs to him.) Wait. This is a trap, isn't it?? One of those ones that the good parents know how to get out of, right?? Mmmm, maybe I oughta talk to Helen. (glances toward the stairs uneasily, then shakes his head.) No, no, no -- I can handle this myself.
QUINN: (off screen) Daddy!
(Cut to shot of Quinn at the table, wearing a peevish, bewildered expression.)
QUINN: Who're you talking to??
(Cut to shot of Jake. He chuckles sheepishly, glances at the apple.)
JAKE: Oh... no one, sweetheart. (Pause. in a softer voice.) Think, Jake, m' man: how're you gonna help her out if she says she doesn't need it?? (frowns, rubs the apple meditatively. then gets a revelation.) Aha! I got it! (to the apple) Oh you beautiful thing. (takes a big bite.)
(Meanwhile, cut to shot of Daria sitting on the couch, watching TV.)
SSW ANNOUNCER: Would you want Jennifer Love-Hewitt starring in your movie?? These people did! Hear their horrific true-life tale on the neeeext "Sick Sad World"!
(Daria cringes. We then hear the sound of pounding down the stairs and see Helen sweep past Daria in the direction of the kitchen.)
HELEN: Quinn, sweetie!
(Cut to shot of the kitchen. Quinn looks at her inquisitively as she approaches.)
HELEN: (out of breath) I heard you... calling. Is there a problem?
QUINN: (nonchalant) No problem. Everything's fine, now.
HELEN: Oh.
(Jake comes up to them, hypercharged.)
JAKE: (to Helen) Yeah, honey! I've decided I'm gonna check Quinn's work when she's through. That's something a responsible parent would do, right??
(Beat)
HELEN: Um, right.
JAKE: You never know -- Quinn might just think she's doing the problems right, but is really making mistakes all along! (looks at Quinn, gives her an exaggerated, jokey wink.)
(Quinn rolls her eyes.)
QUINN: (hushed) Whatever. (returns to her work.)
(Pause. Helen looks at them both, gets an awkward expression.)
HELEN: Well, um, you two seem to be doing fine. So... I'll, um, leave you alone. (stands there a few seconds longer, then leaves.)
(Cut to shot of Daria on the couch, still watching TV. Helen walks over sort of hesitantly, then sits down beside her.)
HELEN: (cheery) Hi, sweetie. Whatcha watching?
DARIA: (deadpan) Does the psychedelic eyeball not speak for itself?
(Beat)
HELEN: Hmm-hmm. Right. (Pause. looks at the screen, face brightens.) Jennifer Love-Hewitt! Ooh, I like her. She's such a sweet --
(Daria picks up the remote and turns off the TV.)
HELEN: (face falling a tad) Oh.
(Meanwhile, cut to shot of Jake and Quinn at the kitchen table. Quinn's scribbling away at a problem, frowning with concentration, while Jake munches away on his apple. Quinn glances at him.)
QUINN: Dad, would you, like, not crunch so loud?? Eating sounds are so gross!
JAKE: Forry. (swallows.)
(Resume shot of Helen and Daria.)
DARIA: I was about to go upstairs, anyway.
HELEN: Well what's your hurry? (musters a friendly, crooning tone.) Since we're both sitting here, why don't we have a little briefing on each other's day?
(Beat)
DARIA: Hmm, sitting upstairs certainly can't compare to that thrill. (Bt) Okay, shoot.
(Beat)
HELEN: Um... all right. (Bt) How's school?
DARIA: Fine.
HELEN: And Jane?
(Daria sighs.)
DARIA: Between her going out with Tom and painting murals for school, I haven't seen too much of Jane lately.
HELEN: Oh.
(Pause)
DARIA: And your day?
HELEN: Oh -- great! Busy, busy... busy. You know me.
DARIA: Yep.
(Pause. Helen and Daria glance at each other, Helen awkwardly, Daria impassively.)
DARIA: (thought voice-over) Five... four... three... two...
HELEN: Oh! Was that my cell phone I heard ringing upstairs?? I'd better go answer it.
(She jumps off the couch, quickly leaves. Daria waits until she's disappeared upstairs before turning the TV back on.)
(Meanwhile, cut to shot of Quinn and Jake. Jake pounds the table enthusiastically, startling Quinn.)
JAKE: Ready to get your work checked now??
QUINN: (rolling her eyes, groaning) Fine. Knock yourself out. (thrusts her paper towards Jake.)
(She looks impatiently at her watch as Jake checks her calculations, then looks at the corresponding answers in the back of her math book. His face brightens.)
JAKE: Gosh, sweetie, you got these all right!
QUINN: (blasŽ) Cool.
JAKE: My little Einstein! (punches her lightly on the cheek.)
QUINN: (cringing slightly) Ugh. Daddy, Einstein had, like, really bad hair.
(Beat)
JAKE: Oh. Yeah, right. (Bt. chuckles a little.) Well I don't get it, honey: how can you be so good at this stuff and hate it so much??
(Pause)
QUINN: (hesitant) I don't hate math. (Pause) It just... frustrates me.
JAKE: It does?? That's a shame. Boy, do I know how that is. (eyes start bulging.) You like something until it's drilled into you by a heartless old bastard for whom "can't" isn't a word, until everything you hold dear --!
QUINN: Daddy!
JAKE: (calming down) Oh...hmm. (waves a hand to say "Continue.")
(Beat)
QUINN: It's just... (groans with resignation) all these problems require the right combinations, and it's all on you to figure out what they are.
JAKE: Uh-huh. (looks surprisingly like he understands.)
QUINN: I mean sure, I'm up for the challenge -- mixing and matching is, like, my calling in life. But seeing each new problem with bad combinations that I have to fix just... upsets me. I mean those math people should really know better!
JAKE: Wow, I'd never thought of it like that. (glances at the math book, finds a really complicated equation with a lot of x's and y's all over the place.) Like with this one?
(Quinn looks at it. Her face takes on an expression of disgust.)
QUINN: Ugh -- yes! Those two just don't belong together!! (Bt) I gotta --
(She seizes a pencil and a new piece of paper, then proceeds to work feverishly on the problem. Meanwhile Jake looks on, a bit stunned by her intensity. After several seconds, Quinn drops her pencil and, with a relieved sigh, pushes the paper toward Jake. He looks at it, then at the answer.)
JAKE: Quinn -- you got it right!
(Quinn groans and tosses her hands in the air.)
QUINN: Well I should hope so!
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 3 (Lawndale High, several days later)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Quinn, Tiffany, and Stacy seated on the grass, going over details of the Fashion Expo.)
STACY: ... And I got cute little yellow flowers for each of the displays. And cute-sounding music to play over the speaker system. So when are you gonna see the Defense of Cute Animals Society, Quinn?
(Quinn bows her head slightly.)
QUINN: I'm not sure. I, um, haven't talked to 'em yet.
(Stacy and Tiffany glance at each other, concerned.)
STACY: But didn't you --?
QUINN: (exasperated) I thought I could take care of the preparations easy, but night after night my dad -- um, I mean, the man I call dad -- watches me like some kind of freaking hawk 'til I've finished my dumb math problems.
TIFFANY: Ewww...
STACY: That's not fair, Quinn -- he should know what's more important.
QUINN: No kidding! I can't do anything 'cause he makes me spend, like, hours working on this stuff. I can't even date! (Bt) Well, easily, I mean.
TIFFANY & STACY: Awww...
QUINN: (shaking her head, a note of wonder in her voice) Geez, y' know I never would've thought my dad had it in him...
(Tiffany and Stacy shake their heads with sympathy. Just then, we see a girl walk up to Quinn, wearing a beseeching expression.)
GIRL: Quinn? Which color eyeliner do you think is best: navy or chocolate brown?
(Quinn pauses momentarily to think.)
QUINN: (counseling tone) Well, I personally would go with navy 'cause it gives you, like, that "I'm hot but don't touch me" look, whereas chocolate brown kinda says "Come and get me." Unless of course you want that kind of look in which case go for it, I mean that's just me talking. You don't have to go with what I say, even though I'm usually right about these kinds of things.
GIRL: (shaking her head rapidly) Oh no, no -- you're Fashion Club president. You always know what's right. Thank you. Thank you so much!
(She runs off, overcome with emotion, as if she's just spoken with the Godfather. Quinn turns to Tiffany and Stacy.)
QUINN: (ego gratified) Now where were we?
TIFFANY: Fashion Expo.
QUINN: Right.
STACY: Y' know, if you're too busy, Quinn, Brooke said she'd help out -- if you'd make her a member.
QUINN: (frowning) Hmmm... I dunno. It's already sorta crowded with three.
TIFFANY: Or Sandi could --
QUINN: Sandi?? What about her?? (suddenly irritated) Why should she help out??
(Pause. Stacy and Tiffany glance at each other, a little startled by Quinn's reaction.)
TIFFANY: (reverting to yes-man role) Oh she shouldn't. You're, like, way capable, Quinn.
QUINN: 'Course I am.
(Beat. Stacy looks at Tiffany, a little confused by her turnaround, then at Quinn.)
STACY: (slowly) Well we just thought... since Sandi knows fashion, too...
QUINN: (demanding tone) So you, like, think she could do a better job than me??
STACY: (slightly nervous) Oh well no... but she could... since you're busy...
QUINN: (curt) Look, we don't need anything from Sandi. Sandi quit the club, so why should we involve her in any of our plans?? I can entertain the Cute Animals Society on my own and I will.
STACY: Okay.
(Just then, we see Brittany bound up to them, holding a bottle of pore cleanser and twirling a lock of hair.)
BRITTANY: (spacy cheerful) Quinn, I got Jean-Pierre's pore cleansing stuff just like you suggested!
QUINN: (still irritated) Not Jean-Pierre. Chateau Pierre-Fran