Jane accused Daria, "You don't care about what happened. You've been treating it like, 'Oh, well, another stupid day'. The guy died, Daria!"
Daria fired back, "I know he died! But don't pretend he was he was some great person when he wasn't. Everybody hated Tommy Sherman and wished something bad to happen to him. I felt it in my bones – their frustration, their anger, their misery," She shrugged nonchalantly, "And the wish came true."
"What the hell you are talking about?"
Daria gave Jane one of her Mona Liza smiles, "C'mon, Jane, Tommy Sherman killed on the day of his triumphant return to Lawwwndale High? Smashed by the goalpost? Do you really believe it was an accident? Can't you sense the trademark irony of one and only Daria Morgendorffer?"
Daria straightened up, and for the first time since they met in self-esteem class, Jane finally saw the green jacket for what it really was. Battle armor.
When Daria discarded her 'plain girl' disguise, Jane was fighting an itch to grab her brushes and start painting. Her amiga looked almost inhumanely beautiful.
"You know the story of Heracles' birth? Zeus disguised himself as Alcmene's husband to sleep with her? That's my story in a nutshell."
"So you are, um…" Jane coughed, fighting the image of Helen Morgendorffer embraced by the Father of Gods. It was just too awkward.
"Goddess?" Daria let out a bitter laugh, "No. I'm half-woman, half-goddess. I'm not even immortal until I drink ambrosia."
"What about Quinn? Is she half-goddess too?"
It could certainly explain why all the boys in her vicinity lose their minds.
"Quinn was sent by Hera to torment me. That old hag really hates it when her husband is cheating." Daria sighed, "Prometheus was a lucky guy; all he had to endure is a giant eagle eating his liver on daily basis."
Author's Note: this short story was response to Iron Chef's challenge Goddess of Sarcasm.