As the principal continued shilling Lawndale High School as if it was some sort of luxury hotel, Daria was thinking to herself, working aggressively in her mind to forge her own opinion about the meaningless charade which was Lawndale High School.
I hate it here, Daria thought to herself, between the padded walls of my room at home, and the sheer insanity at this high school that "Principal McVicker" over here is trying, poorly, to hide, I feel like I'm in a mental instutution. Not a very good one, either.
"As you can see, our Lawndale High students take great pride in our school." Mrs. Li continued, "That's why you'll be taking a small psychological exam. Using the data our school psychologist collects, we'll be able to contrast your numerous shortcomings and weaknesses so we'll be able to put you in classes which suit your needs sufficiently."
"So, in other words, you're giving all of us a test that allows you to laugh at our 'numerous shortcomings' as a means of making you, the 'honorable leader' feel superior." Daria asked quietly, with a clearly venomous edge to her voice. Mrs. Li showed no signs of hearing her, but Daria wondered if maybe she was just pretending to ignore her statement. Daria got that a lot; Some people were worse actors than others, however.
"No one told me about any tests!" Quinn protested with dismay.
"Jeez. Don't worry. It's a psychological test. You're 'automatically exempt.'" Daria replied.
Quinn seemed to be slightly assured by this remark. "Huh? So, I don't have to take it?"
"...Of course you have to take it," Daria said, and then, hoping that Quinn might detect her sarcasm, "But this is a type of test with such comically high standards that it's impossible to pass."
"Wha? But it's not fair! Why do we have to take a test on our first day of school?" Quinn moaned. Upon hearing this response, Daria decided trying sarcasm on Quinn was a lost cause today, and sighed.
"You students," Mrs. Li started, "Will all be taking the psychological tests in groups of two. The person you take the test with will be chosen randomly." Mrs. Li then pointed to a white-haired person wearing an odd blue trenchcoat and matching jeans. "Going up first will be you..." and then she pointed directly at Daria. "...And you. Just go right through this doorway here and meet with our school psychologist."
"...I don't suppose you'll just take my word for it that I'm sane. Silly me, that's simply asking for too much." Daria remarked.
Mrs. Li laughed. "This isn't a test to determine your sanity." Mrs. Li replied. "It's just a small psychological exam to spot any little clouds on the horizon as you sail the student seas of Lawndale High."
Daria turned to the trenchcoat-wearing senior as they walked into the room. "S.O.S. Girl overboard."
"..." The person retorted.
As Daria walked into the office, she saw a brown haired woman in her mid-to-late fifties, wearing a beige pantsuit. Daria assumed this was the school psychologist. Daria noticed that she was saying something; probably an introductory speech and an explanation of the test. Daria decided to not actually listen, and she assumed her silent companion was doing the same. The psychologist held out a picture of a man and a woman and showed it to the guy in the trenchcoat. "Now, Dante, what do you see here?"
"Dante" replied with an "..."
"Um, Mr. Rey?"
"..."
"We will not be able to test you, Mr. Rey, unless you pay attention and answer these questions."
"..."
"Mr. Rey..."
"He's mute." Daria announced.
"Really?" asked the shrink.
"No." Daria remarked impatiently.
"Then why did you say so?" the psychologist inquired.
"Because I felt like it." Daria asserted confidently.
"Do you always say what you feel like saying?"
"Do you always ask stupid, meaningless questions?"
The psychologist scribbled something down in her notepad and held up the picture of the man and woman again. "I'll ask you the question I asked Mr. Rey, Nicole."
"Excuse me... My name isn't Nicole. It's Daria."
"Okay, Dyra, What do you see in the picture?"
"I guess I see... A herd of beautiful wild ponies running free across the plains." Daria answered.
"Uh... there aren't any ponies. It's two people." the psychologist stated with confusion.
"Last time I took one of these tests they told me they were clouds. They said they could be whatever I wanted."
"That's a different test, dear," she said patiently. "In this test, they're people, and you tell me what they're discussing."
"Oh," Daria replied. "I see. All right, then." She stared at the photo for an instant, and made her reply. "It's a guy and a girl, and they've just killed the mayor of a major port city by choking him to death with razor wire so they could steal all the money that was on the corpse. Now, though, they're having an argument about who cleans up the mess and who disposes of the body. They decide to solve both problems at once by taking a tank of gasoline..."
"...That's such a negative story." the psychologist claimed abruptly as to stop Daria from finishing that sentence at all costs. "Can't you come up with a more postive one, Miss Dora?"
"Alright. It's a guy and a girl, and they're discussing..." She paused for a heartbeat. "... a herd of beautiful wild ponies running free across the plains."
Dante Rey cocked his head down, brought his fist to his mouth, and made silent chuckling motions upon hearing this conversation, but no noise was to be heard. The psychologist, on the other hand, put an expression of vexation upon her face and tucked the photograph into a file. Daria awaited the following question eagerly. The psychologist put her hands around another picture, a picture of a vase, and gingerly held it in front of Daria and the trenchcoat-wearing kid. "Mr. Rey, what do you see here?"
"..."
"Mr. Rey, you're going to have to speak a little louder."
"Don't fool yourself, lady." Daria said, clearly looking annoyed.
The psychologist's phony smile tightened into a snarl and her face turned beet red as she held up the picture of the vase to Daria.
"Okay, Miss Dora, what do you see?!!!!" The psychologist said the last word as if she was standing on hot coals.
"I see a pot."
The psychologist suddenly looked as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders and put her bogus smile on once again. "Good, Daria! Alright, next..."
"Yeah, and there's three guys smoking it." Daria said, smugly.
*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*
"Class," the history teacher, Mr. DeMartino, started, "we have a new student joining us today. Please welcome Daria Morgendorffer. Daria, raise your hand, please." Daria did so, reluctantly. Mr. DeMartino put on a maniacal expression and decided to shoot to kill. "Well, Daria! As long as you have your hand raised... Last week, we began a unit on westward expansion. Perhaps you feel it's unfair to be asked a question on your first day of class?"
"Excuse me?" Daria asked.
"Daria, can you concisely and unemotionally sum up for us the Doctrine of Manifest Destiny?"
Daria grew frustrated and answered the question. "Manifest Destiny was a slogan popular in the mid-1840s. It was used by people who claimed it was God's will for the U.S. to expand all the way to the Pacific Ocean." She added, "These people did not include many Mexicans."
DeMartino confirmed the answer. "Very good, Daria. Almost... suspiciously good." He then faced the rest of his classroom vigorously. "All right, class. Who can tell me which war Manifest Destiny was used to justify? Kevin!" Some heads turned to face Kevin, the black-haired guy wearing his school football gear.
"The Vietnam War?"
"That came a little later, Kevin," DeMartino said slowly. "A hundred years later! A lot of good men died in that conflict, Kevin. I believe we owe it to them to at least get the century right!"
"Uh... Operation Watergate?"
"Son... promise me you'll come back and see me one day when you have the Heisman trophy and a chain of auto dealerships, and I'm saving up for a second pair of pants! Will you promise me that, Kevin?"
"Sure!"
Kevin's girlfriend, a bubbly blonde-haired cheerleader, chimed in. "Can I come, too? That is, if Kevin and I are still together?
A random voice in the background said gothically, "Heh. You won't be. Not if I have anything to say about it." Daria turned to see the speaker's face and saw a handsome guy sitting gloomily in his seat. He was clad in traditional goth gear, including a black mesh shirt, a black leather vest, a necklace of a sterling silver dragon being choked to death by a brass pentagram, and numerous eyebrow piercings. His raven-black hair also had an indigo-colored streak on it. Despite his completely unfamiliar appearance (there were no goths in Highland, but they seemed quite prominent in Lawndale, as Daria spotted another figure clad in black, a girl, in the corner of her eye) this guy had a strange, almost amicable feel about him. Daria wondered if she recognized him from Highland, but realized that was impossible; she really hadn't even known many people back then. Daria dismissed her notions.
"Ah... Brittany, Can you guess which war we fought against the Mexicans over Manifest Destiny?" Mr. Demartino asked.
"Nope."
"Please try, Brittany..."
"Uh... the Viet Cong War?"
"Either someone gives me the answer, or I give you all double homework and a quiz tomorrow. I want a volunteer with the answer. NOW!"
Daria raised her hand.
"Daria, stop showing off!"
The goth boy in the back confidently raised his hand.
"Oh, I see... Mr. Christian, you think you can single-handedly save this entire classroom from extra work?"
Christian sighed. "Due to the fact that the Americans then, like now, are total pricks and felt that every single piece of land they came upon belonged to them, and since they whined about the Mexicans owning a little piece of the continent that America didn't have, they incited the Mexican-American war, which nobody would remember if somebody hadn't decided to turn the Battle of the Alamo into numerous tourist traps, movies, and franchises. Ironically enough, today this country is populated with large quantities of Mexican-Americans." Christian then thought for a moment and continued. "And I say that as a loyal patriot to this fine country. Any country that lets presidents cheat on their wives, and get away with it, deserves the insignificant respect of a spiteful peon such as I."
Hearing him speak, Daria felt even more that he knew this person, who seemed... intriguing at the very least; and kind of cynical, from the looks of things. She was beginning to like this particular outcast, and wondered if maybe she should look into the situation later.
Mr. DeMartino looked surprised, almost like his mind was still in the works of processing what Christian had just said. "Christian. Once again, you amaze me by answering correctly... Perhaps a little bit too correctly. I'll have to ask you to refrain from giving your answers in the editorial format next time around."
"No problem. By the way, good luck on getting that second pair of pants."
As the bell rang, Christian rose out of his seat and dropped a note on Daria's lap. It said:
If you want your obviously thinning shell of sanity to be redeemed, you might feel obliged to meet me after school in front of the main exit. I can probably help you.
-CW
"Huh?" Daria said to herself as she quietly read the note. "What a creepy guy."
*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*
After school Daria walked through the crowded halls towards the main exit. Even though that was the exit she would probably take on a normal day anyway, a strange guy who emitted a feeling of familiarity about him was supposedly waiting there for her, and Daria decided she'd listen to whatever the guy had to say. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. Daria eventually came to the main exit, and, as Daria expected, "Christian" was nonchalantly waiting there, leaning on a locker.
"Long time no see." Christian said, talking as if he'd known Daria for years.
"We just saw each other three hours ago." Daria retorted.
"It was a long time before we saw each other three hours ago." Christian mumbled.
"I guess I've struck my head and gotten amnesia then, because we didn't know each other before then." Daria said flippantly.
"Oh, geez, Daria, I can't believe you don't remember me." Christian shouted in awe. "I knew you in seventh grade, remember? In Highland."
"Oh yeah, I remember you."
"You do?"
"Definitely. How are you doing, Stewart?"
Christian looked as if he was getting frustrated. He leaned back more and said, "I threw rotten eggs at your sister's bike. I'm pretty sure she'd had a fit back then, too."
"Yeah. Quinn complained about it for weeks until my dad bought her a new one-" Daria then did a doubletake, or as much of one as she could considering her emotionless expression. "Christian? Christian Wormwood?"
Christian flashed an enigmatic grin. "In the flesh... Unfortunately."
"What the hell are you doing around this place?" Daria inquired.
"I left Highland, to live with my Uncle Jay, after the... after... the..." Christian looked as though he was unable to finish his sentence.
"...After the 'incident'." Daria finished for him.
"Yeah... After that happened, the people around town had treated me like... Like I was some kind of monster." He began fiddling with one of his eyebrow piercings nervously. "There were even a couple of stores around town that wouldn't let me shop there. I ended up moving in with my Uncle to get a fresh start again. I've lived in Lawndale for... three and a half years, I guess." he looked like he was reminiscing for a split second, and finished, "...and every second sucked. Anyway, why didn't you recognize me at first?"
"It might have been because when you left Highland, you were the preppiest guy I knew, and now, you're just an outcast like me, only with weirder clothing."
"I started wearing black as a reflection of my mood. Besides, I like to think I look good in it. But... I didn't expect you to be here."
"My family moved from Highland so my mom could get a better job. I sort of hoped that this place would be a bit more sane than Highland, but..." Daria said.
Christian laughed.
"What's so funny?" Daria asked.
"I'm pretty sure that it was Friedrich Nietzsche who said 'Insanity in individuals is something rare, but in groups, parties, nations and epochs it is the rule.' Unfortunately, I didn't hear that quote until I moved to Lawndale, so imagine my surprise when I saw Lawndalian versions of Mr. VanDriessen and Todd." Christian almost seemed irritated.
"Since when did you start quoting Nietzsche?" Daria asked.
"Since I heard Madonna say 'If I wasn't as talented as I was ambitious, I would be a gross monstrosity' and decided it was time to seek somebody who said more intelligent things."
"After hearing that quote, I think I'm going to go home and have a slice of that thick, rich irony."
As Christian began to walk away, he said, "Save me some, too."
*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*_-*
Thick irony wasn't for dinner that day, but microwavable lasagna was. Daria sat through her parent's conversation, poking the inedible lumps of "gourmet lasagna" with the handle end of her fork.
"... so then they asked me to join the pep squad. They said I didn't have to try out or anything, but I said, 'Look, I'm new here; give me a chance to get used to the place first.' So for now, I'm the vice president of the Fashion Club, and that's it."
"As long as you can join pep squad later, if you want to," Helen replied. "It's your choice. You never know how much you can handle until you try, though!"
Daria's father, Jake, joined in. "How about you, Daria? How was your first day?"
"Well," she replied, "my history teacher hates me because I know all the answers. But on the bright side, there are some interesting idiots in my class."
"Daria," Helen lectured, don't judge people until you know them. You're in a brand new school in a brand new town. You don't want it to be Highland all over again."
"Not much chance of that happening. Unless there's uranium in the drinking water here, too." Daria suddenly remembered Christian that day, and decided that if she said a single interesting thing about her day, her parents might shut up. "Speaking of Highland, it turns out Christian Wormwood goes to Lawndale High School."
Quinn piped up again. "Christian Wormwood? Was he one of the retarded boys who followed you around?"
Daria flashed her Mona Lisa smile. "Better. He was the preppy kid who threw rotten eggs at your bicycle."
Upon hearing those words, Jake shrieked. That situation wasn't one he'd wanted to remember.
"I thought he'd been sent to a juvenile hall!!!!" Quinn shouted in surprise.
"He did. After serving his four months in Dallas, he moved in with his uncle and started quoting Friedrich Nietszche, wearing goth gear, and saving his classroom for the rigors of double homework." Daria said, somewhat sarcastically.
"But Daria," Helen said, "Wasn't he sent to juvenile hall for doing something really horrible? It was four years ago... I can't remember exactly what happened, but I remember it being in the local papers."
"Yeah? Well, I guess he moved on." Daria replied.
"Well, I guess that's okay," Helen decided, "but you need to be making even more friends. Don't be so critical. Give people the benefit of the doubt."
Jake echoed her. "It all boils down to trust."
"Exactly!" Helen said. "It all boils down to trust. Show a little trust."
Daria decided to test this. "Mom... Dad... you're right. Can I borrow either car?"
"No."
"No."
Just then, the phone rang.
"God, I hope that's not the booster society again," Quinn moaned. "They just won't take 'no' for an answer, especially this one black girl... though she does have the cutest dreadlocks..."
"African American, sweetie," Helen corrected. "Hello?" she said as she switched on the cordless phone. "Yes... yes, she's my daughter... I see... listen, is this going to require any parent/teacher conferences or anything, and if so, is this the sort of thing my assistant can handle? Okay, great. Bye!"
Helen stared at Daria and Quinn. "You girls took a psychological test at school today?"
Quinn's eyes grew wide. "Oh no! I flunked it, didn't I?"
"This isn't about you, Quinn." Helen turned to Daria. "Daria, they want you to take a special class for a few weeks, then they'll test you again."
Quinn seemed consoled by this remark. "Well, so long as I'm not the only who flunked it..."
Helen frowned. "She didn't flunk anything." She turned to Jake. "It seems she has low self-esteem."
"What?! That really stinks, Daria!"
"Good. Then it's in the same category as this lasagna." Daria said, cunningly.
"Easy, Jake... focus." Helen turned her attention to Daria. "We tell you over and over again that you're wonderful, and you just don't get it." Helen slammed her fist on the table, to the alarm of Jake and Quinn. "What's wrong with you?!"
"I guess you've caught me. I'm actually a robot made by the Russians, programmed to spy on stupid high schools and have no self-esteem." Daria said, with angry sarcasm.
"STOP JOKING AROUND, DARIA!!!!!" Helen yelled. "This isn't a joking matter! The psychologist said you had low self-esteem and I'm taking her word over yours. There's a remedial self-esteem class tomorrow and you'll be attending it. And you don't have a choice, either."
"Don't worry," Daria assured them. "I don't have low self-esteem. It's a mistake."
"I'll say!" Jake exclaimed.
"I have low esteem for everyone else."
*_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*
"So they're forcing you to attend the remedial class?" Christian asked, the next day.
"Yeah. They decided that I'd be a better person if I was locked in a room with other freaks while a man going through a midlife crisis treats me like a preschooler."
"That's a pretty accurate description, but do you know what they do to you in that class?"
"Sexually harass us to the tune of 'Yankee Doodle Dandee?'"
"Worse. They make you carry around a sheet that the teachers completely fill out at the end of each period. You think Mr. DeMartino's bad now? Wait until you ask him 'how good you were' every single day. And things get even more horrible when you get home."
"I suppose you're going to describe that next?" Daria asked.
"Your parents sign that sheet every day. You won't be able to keep a single secret from them. The entire premise is so brutal that repeated exposure and humiliation has been proven time and time again to influence people to cause chaos." Christian said, grimly.
"I'm curious now. How do you know all this?"
"Even after getting out of juvy four years ago, when I spent my last days in Highland Middle School, they put me in a class like that. Only it was Remedial Behavior, not Remedial Self-Esteem." He thought about it for a few seconds, and added, "Words can't describe the horrors I experienced from just sixteen days in that class. Which is why I recommend an alternative to going to it."
Daria became interested suddenly. "Such as...?"
"...Such as cutting it."
"And expelling myself in the process."
"There's a way around that. I have a friend who's also supposed to attend that class, and she's cutting it, too."
"Oh, really."
"Yeah. She's a bit weird, but beggars can't be choosers."
Daria and Christian walked down the hallway together, until they reached a girl shoving books awkwardly into her locker. She had short black hair, dark gray shorts, a black V-neck shirt, and a red jacket with the sleeves rolled up.
"Hey, Jane!" Christian called.
"Christian. What the hell do you want?" Jane called back.
"This is Daria Morgendorfer. She's an old childhood acquaintance of mine, and she's stuck attending that remedial self-esteem class."
"I didn't know you had old childhood acquaintances."
"Neither did I. Anyway, could you help her cut that class?" Christian asked.
"Forty bucks." Jane said.
"Ten."
"Thirty."
"Twenty."
"Twenty-five."
"Twenty-two dollars and fifty cents." Christian bargained.
"Deal." Jane decided.
As Christian fished the money out of a pocket in his vest, Jane held her hand out to collect.
"Okay, I'm outta here. See you, Daria." Christian said.
"Yeah. Thanks, Christian." Daria replied. "So, what's this 'big secret'?" Daria asked Jane.
"You don't show up." Jane said casually. "You can't get expelled for attending an optional class. And your parents won't even find out."
"Christian paid through the nose just to hear that?"
"Yep."
"Geez, I like your style."
"Thanks. I'm an artist."
"Really."
"Yeah. I work mostly with canvas, but I've been known to do a few sculptures."
As Daria and Jane began to walk together, they realized they were headed in the same direction.
"Want to walk home with me?" Daria asked.
"If I had something better to do, I'd say no."
"You don't, do you?"
"How did you guess?"
As they walked home together, they continued to talk.
"So how do you know Christian?" Jane asked.
"Back where I used to live, he was in most of my seventh-grade classes. But..."
"...But?" Jane inquired.
"He was different back then. I was pretty much the same... I was an outcast back then, too... But Christian... He was just preppy. He wore sweater vests and polo shirts and things like that. He was... social."
Jane laughed. "You're kidding me. A guy like that?"
Daria nodded. "He was an only child living with his wealthy father. He was a cocky bastard back then. It's sort of strange that we've been getting along now."
Jane seemed intrigued. "Then what turned him into the guy he is now? Sorry, but it seems a bit weird, at least to me, to make such an abrupt change."
"It was an incident... I'm not clear on the details, but his dad disappeared, Christian went to juvy for a few months, and shortly after that, he left Highland. I really never thought I'd see him again." Daria finished her story. "Anyway, how is it that you know how to skip that stupid self-esteem class?"
"Simple. I've been in it six times."
"If that's true, then according to Christian, you'd have been 'influenced to cause chaos.'"
"Christian hates anything remedial. What he says about the Remedial Behavior class is one-hundred percent true."
"But the remedial self-esteem class?"
"It's a bit different. The 'chaos' is still there. It's just a lot more subtle."
"Really? Explain." Daria smiled, and realized she'd actually found a friend.
*_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*
"... so, then, after the role-playing, next class they put the girls and the guys in separate rooms, and a female counselor talks to us about body image."
"What do they talk to the boys about?" Daria asked.
"Well, think about it. A room full of boys. A male teacher."
"Nocturnal emissions." Daria commented.
"Right on the money." Jane replied.
When they reached Daria's house, Jane issued an offer. "Want to walk to my house and watch Sick, Sad, World? It's only a few more blocks this way."
"You know what? I think I will." She passed by her house and continued down the sidewalk.
"Shouldn't you tell your parents first?" Jane called to her.
"I can call them from your house."
"Don't think I don't realize you're deliberately attempting to avoid your house." Jane said with a smile.
"I'm not a psychic, but I sense that my mom's inside there waiting for me, getting ready to force me to do something pointless to 'raise my self esteem.'"
"In that case, going with me is the safest thing to do."
"Oh, no doubt." Daria said.
*_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*
Daria had walked into her house later that day, after seeing a somewhat interesting episode of Sick, Sad, World ("Coffee: Innocent Drink? Or Cold Blooded Killer? Next, on Sick, Sad, World!") When she did, she saw her mother asleep on the couch.
"She'd came home early to do something with you, but when you didn't show up, she'd fallen asleep from exhaustion."
Well, that's just another factor that worked to my advantage, thought Daria.
Quinn sported a devious expression. "So, how did you like your self-esteem class?" Quinn asked.
"We spent the entire day making fun of annoying little sisters like you." Daria said, "I can't wait to go back." And with that, she walked up to her room, satisfied.
*_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*
"So, like, what do you like to do after school?" the boy asked.
"Oh, nothing special," Quinn said, "Go to the movies, or, like, a theme park, or out for a really fancy meal now and then, or maybe go to a concert if, like, I know someone who's got really good seats and is renting a limo and stuff."
Jane and Daria watched in the hallway as Quinn prepared this guy for a massive torturing.
"You hear that? He hasn't got a prayer." Jane said with amusement.
"Tell me about it. That's my sister." Daria retorted.
Jane winced. "Wow. Bummer. What's that like?"
"Hey Quinn, do you have any brothers or sisters?" asked the boy.
"Nope. I'm an only child." Quinn replied matter-of-factly.
"I think that answers your question." Daria told Jane.
From behind an open locker door, a voice whispered something into the boy's ear. "(Hey. Tell her you own a Ferrari.)"
The boy turned to this hidden person. "(But I don't own one.)"
"(She doesn't know that. Tell her you have a Ferrari, jet black.)"
The boy took this mystery person's advice. "Hey... Ya know, I own a '97 Ferrari. Perhaps you'd like to join me for a joyride sometime?"
Now, Quinn seemed interested. "What color?"
"Umm... Black."
"Sure! Can you pick me up at eight?"
Daria and Jane seemed thoroughly surprised by this, But just then, the locker door closed, and Christian stepped out.
Jane seemed amused. "What did you do that for?"
"Just wait until Quinn sees what the guy really drives." Christian said, menacingly.
"You sure love to torture my sister." Daria said.
"Damn right I do." Christian replied with a grin. "To quote Al Gore, 'A zebra cannot change it's spots.'"Jane smiled a bit at that remark, and Daria decided that Christian Wormwood had truly turned a new leaf for the better.
*_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=
Daria stared at her lump of lasagna as if it was a squashed bug that was somehow reassembling itself. "Is this really sanitary?" She asked indifferently.
"It's the lasagna from yesterday. It's fine." Helen answered.
"These are the leftovers from the leftovers from the two-month old TV dinner you nuked in the microwave three days ago and ruined, mom." Daria said. "It's practically sentient by now."
Helen changed the subject. "So, how's the self-esteem class going?"
"My teacher told me that some of the most infamous terrorists in world history have lived off of spoiled food."
Helen made a sour face. "Daria, please be serious."
Daria hesitated for a second, and remembered her conversation with Jane. "All the females were taken into a seperate room and a female counselor talked to us about body image." Daria said. "And she said we shouldn't care about our weight, or what we look like. She said it didn't matter."
Suddenly, Quinn burst into laughter.
"That's nice." Helen said. Turning to Quinn, she asked, "So, how was your day?"
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
"That's my date, gotta go." Quinn replied, and ran out of the house.
Daria got up and walked toward the window. She saw the boy from earlier that day in a rusted El Camino, and flashed her Mona Lisa smile. Not only had she seen the horrors that Christian had forced upon her sister, butat that moment she had just come up with a way to make her family suffer.
"Hey, I bet it would feel good if we go to Pizza Forest for dinner like we did when we were kids!"
Helen looked awe-stricken. "The place with the singers?!!"
Daria faked an expression of excitement. "Boy. I sure do miss those songs..."
And so, the next evening, Daria found her family, including her bitter sister, who was forced to come and was still reeling from the shock of her last date, sitting in the incredibly childish Pizza Forest. Jake and Helen looked as if they were on another planet, but Daria sat contently, enjoying the torture of the rest of her family. The highlight of the evening, however, came when a group of annoyed teenagers in animal costumes walked over to Daria's booth and sang a bitter rendition of "Row, Row, Row your boat," much to her family's stunning chagrin.
*_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=
"... and once again, the bake sale was a tremendous success." Ms. Li said, standing behind a podium in the auditorium. "We raised $400, which was subsequently stolen from the office, but I am confident we will get that money back. In a related note, the school nurse will be visiting homerooms tomorrow to collect DNA samples. Now, Mr. O'Neill has some disappointing news about our after-school self-esteem class."
Mr. O'Neill stood up and walked to the podium. "I'm afraid to report," He began, "That while our school's remedial self-esteem class is optional, there have been a few cases where I fear the class is being cut by the students without their parents' consent." Mr. O'Neill said sadly.
Daria was sitting in the audience. "Jane?"
"Yeah?"
"I thought you said your method for cutting class was foolproof."
"Nope. Not once did I say any such thing."
"Oh, yeah."
"Mr. O'Neill continued. "I'm afraid that today, the parents of every student considered for the remedial self-esteem program will be called to inform them of their child's status."
"We're screwed." Daria said indifferently.
"Yep." Jane replied, with equal gusto.
Suddenly, a bomb squad ran into the auditorium. Heads in the audience turned to stare at the group of armed men which had entered through the left entrance, tailed by a scared-looking office secretary and a police canine.
"Wow." Daria said. "That's pretty lucky."
"What is?" Jane asked.
"We've had a report about bombs being strategically placed in six lockers in this school." One of the officers said to Mrs. Li.
"What?" Mrs. Li asked, shocked. "But... We're in the middle of an assembly!"
"I think the lives of your students are more important than any assembly." The officer said angrily.
"Wow. That is lucky." Jane said.
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"...And we had to wait in the cold auditorium while these creepy police guys searched lockers." Quinn said, at dinner. "Ohmigosh! What if they searched mine??" Quinn asked with fear.
"That's just horrible." Helen said. "I'm glad it was only a prank."
"Did they find out who was responsible for the calls?" Jake asked.
"No." Daria answered emotionlessly. Although, I think I already know, Daria thought. Anyway, I guess I can use this to my advantage.
"By the way, I passed the final remedial self-esteem test." Daria said. "So I don't have to go anymore."
Helen's firm expression softened a little. "Really? That's wonderful, dear."
"Uh, yeah. I guess..." Daria replied.
"I'l be sooo embarrassed if those bomb guys went through my stuff! They'd probably break all of it..." Quinn continued, completely ignoring the subconversation.
"Yeah, then you'd have to buy a whole bunch of new stuff..." Daria said sarcastically.
"That's a great idea, Daria! Mom, can I use your gold card?" Quinn said. Jake shrieked. Daria sighed. She'd killed a few birds with one stone today; She'd gotten away with cutting class, got sweet revenge on her parents for trying to make her attend the class, and lied so she wouldn't have to "cut" the class any longer. Okay, it wasn't exactly a moral day, but a good one nonetheless.