"Bah. Humbug."
(Nightime in Daria's bedroom)
(Daria is sound asleep when a faint, wavering voice comes out of the darkness.)
Voice: Dariiaaa….. Dariaaa….
(Daria rolls over, but does not wake)
Voice: YO! WEIRD MISERY CHICK! WAKE UP!
Daria: (bolts up) AH!!
(Pan out to see a ghost covered in chains floating over Daria's bed. As we look closer, we can see it is…)
Daria: (wide-eyed) Tommy Sherman?
Tommy: (spooky ghost voice) Ask meee whooo I wasss….
Daria: Why? I already know who you are.
Tommy: Pfft. Sure, spoil the routine.
Daria: What do you want with me!?
Tommy: I'm here to warn you loser about something. All my life, I was what some uncooler people called 'a jerk', so now I have to wear all these chains. There's time to save yourself.
Daria: Hey! I do *not* act like a jerk. And why would *you* want to help *me*?
Tommy: You're not cool enough to pull off the chain look; I am.
(Daria gives him a dirty look)
Tommy: (sighs) Ok, so I have 24 hours of community service to do. So what. (gets the spooky voice again) Toniiiight yooouuuu will beeee haunnnted by fooouuuurrr spiriiiittsss….. the paaaast…. the presseeent …. and the fuuuutturrree…..
Daria: That's *three*, Sherlock.
Tommy: No, four. Goodbye loser! (fades away)
Daria: Rude… self-absorbed…. ignorant…. that was Tommy Sherman alright.
(Suddenly, a clock strikes twelve. The room is suddenly filled with a brilliant light. Daria shields her eyes until the light fades down and reveals….)
Daria: No! It can't be!
Beavis: Huh-huh!
Butthead: We're, like, the ghosts of Christmas Past.
Daria: No!
(Daria searches frantically for a weapon… a means of escape… anything. She finally sees her telephone on the floor and picks it up.)
Beavis: Huh-huh! Who ya gonna call?
(Suddenly, the door bursts open.)
Bill Murray: Ghostbusters!
(He and the other Ghostbusters blast the annoying, disgusting cartoon ghosts with their proton beams.)
Bill: That'll be five thousand dollars.
Daria: Um, thanks. Could you put it on my tab?
(The guys look at each other)
Dan Aykroyd: Get her!
(They blast the beam at her)
(Suddenly, it is morning. Daria bolts up in her bed, looks around frantically, then sighs in relief.)
Daria: It was just a dream! (narrows eyes) That's it, Morgendorffer. No more expired nog and HBO before bed for you.
(Daria goes to her window, opens it, then calls down to a random teenager walking down her street.)
Daria: You there! What day is this?
Teen: (in a squeaky-British accent) Why it's *mid-term* day, M'am!
Daria: It's mid-term day. Then I haven't missed it. (frowns) Bah humbug.