COMMITTED
a Daria fanfic by
Mike Yamiolkoski
PART FIVE
Three weeks later...
INT: PIZZA KING
Daria and Jane are splitting a pizza.
JANE: You know, I think this is the first pizza we've shared since I got my job and you got your internship. I almost forgot how much we could pack away when we got together. What was this, a sixteen-inch pie?
DARIA: (indicates last slice) You gonna eat that?
JANE: Not if I have to fight you for it. Anyway, thanks for picking up the tab, it's good to be able to sock away a little bit extra from my paycheck.
DARIA: You can make it up to me when we get to Boston.
JANE: Speaking of which, have you got everything squared away with that?
DARIA: Still don't have a 100% commitment from my mom. Which sucks, because without her along, I can only get half the stuff done that I'd want to. Not only is she my ride, she also needs to sign a bunch of paperwork, which I could bring home and turn in late but that could cause all sorts of problems later on. (frowns) What's really getting on my nerves is that Quinn keeps dropping all these hints that she wants to go too. It's like she thinks this is some kind of shopping excursion or boy-watching cruise. You'd think Little Miss "Me Too" would give it a rest just this once.
JANE: You know I'd go with you if I could. Hell, I'd like the chance to tour BFAC, if nothing else. (Sips soft drink until it gurgles) So, how goes the war of the wedding?
DARIA: I haven't cracked yet, but I'm getting closer all the time. I'm actually putting in extra hours at Wallen and Shane just to stay away. You know, the worst of it is that it's all completely unnecessary.
JANE: I know. Who cares if they're legal or not? My parents were hitched by a naked man on acid at a Grateful Dead concert, they're probably living in sin too.
DARIA: No, I mean - really?
JANE: Of course not, I made that up. I actually have no idea how or even if they got married, but I had to come up with something just to maintain the status quo of my family being more screwed up than yours.
DARIA: Thoughtful of you.
JANE: What are friends for? You know, if things ever get too rough on the homefront, mi casa es su casa. My offer of a place to crash still stands.
DARIA: I'm not quite there yet. But thanks.
JANE: Don't thank me too fast. You haven't actually tried living with the band yet.
DARIA: They're still there?
JANE: It's the only way they can be sure Trent will show up for practice on time. So, what did you mean when you said it's all unnecessary?
DARIA: Well, I did a little research -
BRITTANY: Oh, hi Daria! Hi Jane!
Daria and Jane look up to discover Brittany hovering over them. Astoundingly, she is not wearing her cheerleader's outfit, but rather a red shirt with white shorts. She has also elected to put her hair into a single ponytail.
DARIA: Brittany.
JANE: Hey.
Brittany helps herself to a seat.
BRITTANY: So Daria, I hear your parents are getting married! That's so cool!
DARIA: Actually, it's more like they're renewing their vows.
BRITTANY: I still remember when my Dad married Ashley-Amber. I got to be a bridesmaid! It's really too bad Mom couldn't come, it's was a great party!
JANE: Do tell.
DARIA: Or don't.
BRITTANY: Anyway, I just wanted to thank you and Quinn for inviting me and Kevin, but see, Kevin and I broke up and so he'll need his own invitation.
DARIA: (slight frown) I'll be absolutely certain I pass on that vital piece of information.
BRITTANY: You know, I haven't had the chance to talk to you guys all Summer! What are your plans for next year, Daria?
DARIA: (sighs with resignation) I'm going up to Boston in the Fall for college.
BRITTANY: Really! I'm going to college too! Practically the entire cheerleading squad is going to Great Prairie State University! Their school colors are red and white, so I'm trying it out. Jane, you're an artist, what do you think?
JANE: (a bit miffed for some reason) Eh, fine.
BRITTANY: And how's my hair? I decided it was time for a more grown-up, adult hairstyle.
DARIA: Nothing says maturity like the ponytail.
BRITTANY: So Jane, where are you going in the Fall?
JANE: You know what, Brittany? We really have to be going now.
Jane grabs Daria by the jacket and pulls her to her feet and toward the door.
BRITTANY: I'll see you guys at the wedding then, right? Oh, is it okay if I bring a date who isn't Kevin?
DARIA: (calling from the doorway) Best kind!
EXT: PIZZA KING
Jane relinquishes her hold on Daria once they're outside.
DARIA: What was all that about? I mean, I'm not one to actually welcome a conversation with Brittany, but we still had pizza left.
JANE: Mblgrml...
DARIA: Huh?
JANE: Nothing, nothing. It's not important.
DARIA: Come on, Jane. I've been up to my lower lip in my own problems since the Summer began. You owe me one of yours.
JANE: It's just that... all the cheerleaders are going to Great Prairie State.
DARIA: And that has to do with either of us how, exactly?
JANE: Remember how I got two rejection letters last Spring? That was one of them. They took Lawndale's blondest, but passed on Jane Lane.
DARIA: Oh. Well... who cares? You got into BFAC.
JANE: It still rankles. I've been rejected by a college that took someone whose I.Q. and bust measurement are consecutive numbers.
DARIA: Take it out on your window displays. There's got to be something nasty you could do to a bunch of blonde cheerleader-type mannequins.
JANE: (checks watch) Oh God, I'm glad you said that. I'm late for work. Can you get home okay without me?
DARIA: (sighs) I guess.
JANE: Thanks. Oh, and in case I don't see you, have a good time in Beantown. Get me a souvenir!
DARIA: I'll bring you back a Kennedy.
INT: MORGENDORFFER LIVING ROOM
Usual chaos. A large seating chart hangs on the wall, with red and blue tags indicating where people might sit (the red ones far outnumber the blues). Grandma Ruth and Rita stand arguing in front of it. Quinn and her friends sit in a circle around the brochure-covered coffee table. Smoke issuing from the kitchen indicates that Jake is probably cooking dinner, while Helen is nowhere to be seen.
Daria enters.
RITA: A string quartet? This isn't a funeral, it's a wedding! It's a joyous, loving occasion to bring the entire family together and celebrate, you hag!
RUTH: Oh sure, the entire family as long as they don't share the surname Morgendorffer! You do realize that your guests outnumber mine over four to one!
RITA: Are we going to keep going over and over this until the end of time? It's not my fault that more people like Helen than Jake!
RUTH: Well maybe the numbers would be a little more on the level if you didn't feel it necessary to invite your entire Divorce Survivor's Support Group!
Meanwhile...
QUINN: What about this one? Blue goes so well with my hair, and it doesn't have the poofy shoulders.
STACY: I don't know, I think the poofy shoulders are kind of cute.
SANDI: Stacy, everyone knows that poofy shoulders were conceived solely in order to draw attention away from thick arms or necks that one sometimes can't avoid due to the need to select less attractive family members as bridesmaids. Are you suggesting that Quinn has such a problem?
STACY: (bored monotone) Of course not Sandi, I would never suggest any such thing.
TIFFANY: Blue is so pretty...
SANDI: I can't imagine why you didn't come to us before, Quinn. After all, even though we are no longer the Fashion Club in name, I would assume that we still exist in spirit. And this is unquestionably a matter that we ought to advise you on.
QUINN: Well, you know, we were kind of supposed to keep it all hush-hush.
DARIA: Not that the need for discretion mattered a whit to you when the chips were down.
QUINN: Oh, Daria! Um... why don't you give us some input here? After all, you're going to be wearing the same dress.
DARIA: You have got to be kidding. Excuse me, I have more important things to do.
Daria heads up the stairs, passing by her Rita and Ruth on the way. Meanwhile, the smoke issuing from the kitchen begins to turn from white to a darker, more ominous shade.
RITA: Now you listen. Because of you, I've cancelled the Mariachi band. Because of you, I'm forgoing the lava lamp centerpieces. Because of you, I've cut the fireworks display nearly in half. But the Pink Cadillac Limousine is where I draw the line!
RUTH: A horse and carriage is traditional. I insist that there be some semblance of decorum at this fiasco!
RITA: Decorum? Is that some nineteenth century word for terminally dull? Because - is something burning?
A scream issues from the kitchen.
JAKE: AAAAHHHH!!! HOT!! HOT!!! BLISTERS!!! THIRD DEGREE BURNS, DAMMIT!!!
RUTH: Jakey!
RITA: What's that idiot done now? I would have thought even he could get a frozen lasagna right...
RUTH: Oh, shut up, you heathen! (runs to rescue Jake)
Daria comes calmly back down the stairs with a first-aid kit and a fire extinguisher, and heads into the kitchen. Spraying sounds issue from within.
SANDI: Quinn, am I hearing things, or did you invite your cousin - oh excuse me, sister - to assist in the determination of your wardrobe?
QUINN: Well, I thought that -
SANDI: It's a good thing I'm not overly sensitive to insults, or I might assume that you felt her advice on fashion would be of the same caliber as ours.
QUINN: Oh Sandi, I hope you don't think that.
Helen bursts in, cell phone attached to her face.
HELEN: (on phone) Yes, I'm serious! Pharmacon is losing business left and right just because of the hint of a lawsuit; you'd better believe we're going to counter-sue! And those number are a fair and accurate estimate of Pharmacon's losses over the next ten years thanks to your little snit!
RITA: Helen! Thank goodness you're here, that horrible woman is going to ruin everything we've spent over a month planning.
HELEN: (raising a hand in a futile effort to quiet Rita) Well, they will go public if this case sees the inside of a courtroom! You know perfectly well what the reaction of consumers will be when they catch sight of those bloody mutilated rabbits.
QUINN & FRIENDS: EEEWWWWW!!!
RITA: Helen, tell your mother-in-law that you want that limousine at the wedding!
HELEN: (on phone) Fine, then, we'll see you at the wedding!
RITA: Who are you inviting now?
HELEN: What? Oh... (turns red, then mumbles into the phone) We'll see you in court, bye. (hangs up)
Daria emerges from the kitchen, empty extinguisher in hand, a light coating of fire-resistant powder clinging to her jacket and dusting her hair.
DARIA: Hi Mom. Dinner's ready.
HELEN: Thank God, I just have time to eat before I have to get back to the office.
RITA: Do you like your lasagna well-done, or charcoal?
STACY: Um, Quinn -
QUINN: Don't worry, I've got plenty of carrots and celery stalks.
STACY: Whew!
DARIA: Mom, I hate to bring up something of importance at a time like this, but I want to make sure you remember that I'll be needing you to drive me to Boston tomorrow morning.
HELEN: What? Daria, why do you wait until the last minute to tell me these things?
DARIA: (frowning slightly) I told you last month. And last week. And last night. And yes, now I'm telling you at the last minute.
HELEN: Daria, this just isn't the best time for this sort of thing. Can't you put it off until after the wedding?
DARIA: Raft doesn't arrange their orientation schedule around your redundant wedding plans.
HELEN: Look Daria, I'm sorry but I just can't do it. I have a million things going on right now, and this is just one more thing I don't need.
DARIA: (livid) As long as I know where I stand. (stomps off)
QUINN: Hey Daria?
DARIA: Shut up.
Daria heads back up the stairs and slams her door.
SANDI: Quinn, maybe we should come back some other time.
STACY: Yeah. It's getting a little weird around here.
TIFFANY: We'll get together later...
QUINN: (sighs) I guess so. Come on, I'll walk you out. (to herself) And maybe stow away in Stacy's trunk.
INT: CASHMAN'S WINDOW
Jane is hard at work, having arranged the mannequins in frightened poses and erected twisty, gnarled gray trees in front of a foggy, spooky background. One of the mannequins is up in the largest tree, looming over the rest with a bloody chain saw and wearing a devil mask and black body stocking. The rest are clothed in various sexy underthings.
VOICE: Jane!
JANE: One second, let me get these panties on!
The voice comes into the display - it turns out to be Theresa, formerly from Junior 5, now presumably at Cashman's.
THERESA: I hope you know how bad that sounded.
JANE: Why else did I say it? (she pulls a pair of lacy pink panties onto the mannequin she was working on). What's up?
THERESA: (looking nervously around the display) Um... are you sure this is the best way to sell lingerie?
JANE: As I recall, Theresa, you questioned my gallows display too. As I further recall, sales of neckties hit an all-time high that weekend. Oh, since you're here, could you hand me that squeeze bottle of blood?
THERESA: Ugh! (picks up the bottle between thumb and forefinger and passes it over)
JANE: Why are you here, anyway?
THERESA: Oh, yeah. You have a phone call.
JANE: (raises an eyebrow) Somebody either doesn't know better than to disturb me at work, or knows me well enough to be aware that I'm mostly kidding when I say I'd kill them for it. That narrows it down to about two people. Male or female?
THERESA: I couldn't tell.
JANE: Ah, that would be Daria. I'll be right back. Don't let anyone mess with this, okay?
Jane steps out.
THERESA: (shudders) Who would dare?
INT: CASHMAN'S OFFICE
Jane picks up the phone.
JANE: Hey, Daria.
Split screen with Daria
DARIA: How'd you know it was me?
JANE: I'd rather not say, if it's all the same to you. So, why do you risk the Wrath of Jane Almighty and disturb me while I'm creating?
DARIA: I need to ask an enormous favor of you.
JANE: Anything to further your debt to me. What's the favor?
DARIA: It involves getting out of bed at five AM tomorrow.
JANE: Hmm... I don't know, could I just give you a kidney instead?
DARIA: I have to be downtown in time to catch the first of three buses to Boston, whereupon I need to squeeze four days of activity into two so I can get home in time to be back at work on Friday. Of course, none of this would be necessary if my mother hadn't shown her usual standards of priority and insisted she needed to stay home and work on her big case and a totally redundant and unnecessary wedding instead of helping out her eldest daughter on one of about six occasions I've ever asked for it.
JANE: As long as you're not bitter.
DARIA: So, can you help me out here?
JANE: (sighs) I guess so. Besides, at the rate this window is going, I'll probably be here until three AM as it is. Might as well stay up an extra two hours.
DARIA: Did you manage to find a chain saw?
JANE: There was one in the manager's office. I didn't ask questions.
DARIA: So, I guess getting together is out of the question tonight?
JANE: 'Fraid so, amiga. I'll be having my dinner out of the vending machines. I finally managed to convince them to stock at least one type of non-diet soda. (pause) Seriously, are you okay? You sound even more depressed than usual.
DARIA: I have plenty of reasons.
JANE: Can't argue with that. Listen, I gotta go, but I'll see you tomorrow at (shivers) dawn.
DARIA: Thanks, Jane. I mean it.
JANE: Don't thank me until you get my bill.
Jane hangs up.
Split-screen goes away, leaving Daria in her room.
There's a knock on her door.
QUINN: Daria?
DARIA: This room is under quarantine. Bubonic plague. Those infected break out in really nasty boils that scar the face permanently.
Quinn enters anyway
QUINN: Come on, Daria, it's not the end of the world. Maybe Dad could drive you.
DARIA: I need someone to sign important paperwork. Dad's so clueless he wouldn't have the foggiest idea what it's all about, and he'd bring it home to Mom anyway. Besides, thanks to his little incident with the oven, he won't be moving his fingers for a week.
QUINN: Oh. Well, I'll go with you, if you want the company.
DARIA: I'd rather be shipwrecked with the Donner party.
QUINN: Why are you acting like this, Daria? I mean, I even asked you opinion about the bridesmaid's dresses in front of my friends. Doesn't that count for something?
DARIA: Oh, well, thanks so much for acknowledging my existence, then. I never realized it was such a sacrifice. You're a regular Joan of Arc.
QUINN: Fine! Just go to Boston by yourself, then!
Quinn exits in a huff. Daria lies still for a moment, then gets up and begins fiercely packing her bags.
INT: MORGENDORFFER LIVING ROOM
RUTH: You're sure you're all right, Jakey?
JAKE: (holding up hands swathed liberally in bandages) I'm fine, Mom, really. Um, could I have some more sesame chicken?
RUTH: Of course, dear.
Ruth spoons some sesame chicken from a Chinese take-out box in front of her into Jake's mouth, while Rita snorts and rolls her eyes.
HELEN: Well, I managed to scrape the rest of the lasagna off the baking sheet. Next time, Jake, don't try to cook using the self-cleaning cycle.
RUTH: Of course, he shouldn't have to be cooking at all.
RITA: Well, maybe if his wife weren't currently the sole provider for the household, he wouldn't have to.
RUTH: I don't remember inviting you into this conversation?
RITA: I don't need your permission to speak my mind!
Daria drags her luggage down the stairs and dumps it unceremoniously by the door. She glares briefly at the back of her mother's head, then turns to go back up the stairs.
The doorbell rings.
RUTH: Maybe you should consider that not everyone here wants to hear your opinions!
RITA: Why don't you try keeping your tongue on your own side of your teeth for a while!
The doorbell rings again.
DARIA: (throwing up her arms in despair) I'll get it. (she answers the door without removing the chain latch, peering through the crack) Oh. Erin.
ERIN: Hey, Daria! Is my mom here?
DARIA: If I say yes, will you take her away? Just a second.Daria closes the door a bit to remove the chain latch. When she opens it, she's surprised to see -
DARIA: Erin, you're fifteen months pregnant.
Indeed, Erin is as big as a house.
ERIN: I know! Isn't it great! I'm having twins! (she waddles inside) They're not due for another four weeks, and technically I'm supposed to be on bed rest, but when I heard your parents were getting married again I had to come down here. This is so exciting! (looks behind her) Come on, Brian, it's just a couple of bags! If I can carry this load around twenty-four-seven, I think you can manage with a few little suitcases!
Daria looks down the walkway, and sees Brian struggling under at least a metric ton of luggage.
RITA: Erin! What are you doing out of bed! Daria, be a peach and unfold the sofa for Erin, she needs to keep her weight off her feet.
DARIA: Comparing me to fruit isn't the best way to elicit favors.
ERIN: It's fine, Mom, I can just lie on the couch.
RITA: Don't be ridiculous. Come on, Daria, can't you see your cousin needs some help?
Daria grumbles and throws the door shut.
BRIAN: (muffled) OW!!!
The sound of avalanching baggage comes from the other side of the door. No one pays any attention.
QUINN: (from the top of the stairs) Did I just hear someone come in?
ERIN: Hey, Quinn!
QUINN: Erin! Um... I didn't expect to see you!
ERIN: Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world! Oh, could someone get me a pillow for my lower back? And it's also nice if I can have a little bell to ring.
DARIA: I don't know how we would ever have gotten through this trying time without your invaluable assistance, Erin.
ERIN: Where's Brian?
A feeble scratching at the front door answers her question. Daria opens it.
DARIA: Ah, Brian. I didn't recognize you without your pretentious smirk.
BRIAN: Mmphmmff!!
DARIA: Can you say that again without the garment bag in your mouth? Never mind, I have things to do. The room with the padded walls is mine; if those suitcases end up in it, they'll be on the back lawn by morning.
Daria heads upstairs.
HELEN: Erin, it's great to see you, but what are you doing here? We weren't expecting you for some time!
ERIN: Well, we would have gotten a motel room, but Mother insisted that we stay with her so she could help me when I needed it.
HELEN: But the wedding isn't for another two weeks!
ERIN: What? The invitation said it's today! We would have been here sooner, but Brian didn't allow enough time for pit stops.
BRIAN: (talking through the garment bag strap) I fed I waf forry!
RITA: Today? Didn't you get the new invitation?
ERIN: Just this one. (she holds up a puce-and-vermilion card with gold lettering)
RITA: Looks like "Jakey" forgot to send the update. Way to go, genius.
JAKE: (self-depreciating) Aw, dammit...
RUTH: Don't you talk to my son that way!
RITA: Fine, you talk to him! Ask him who else he forgot to send the new invitations to, that's how many more guests we'll have showing up here tonight!
RUTH: Oh, will you give it a rest!
ERIN: Isn't anyone going to get me an extra pillow?
HELEN: Quinn, get your cousin a pillow. And while you're at it, get a sleeping bag out of the garage and move into Daria's room, we need to move Grandma Ruth upstairs.
QUINN: Daria's room? But -
HELEN: Don't give me any grief about this, Quinn! I have to get back to the office.
RUTH: God forbid you should actually spend some time at home with your family -
HELEN: Oh, give it a rest, Ruth. (heads out the door)
RITA: Yeah, give it a rest.
RUTH: You hush!
RITA: You!
QUINN: Oh!! (throws her arms up and runs up the stairs)
ERIN: Hello? My pillow?
INT: DARIA'S ROOM
Daria is hefting bags onto her shoulders as Quinn shoulders her way in with a sleeping bag and a pillowcase full of other items.
DARIA: What do you think you're doing?
QUINN: What does it look like? I'm moving in. Erin and Brian are taking over the sofa bed and Grandma Ruth is in my room now. Don't think I'm any happier about it than you are.
DARIA: (very angry) That's it. I'm having a little talk with Mom.
QUINN: Better run fast, she's halfway back to work by now. Come on, it's only until the wedding, and you'll be in Boston for the next week anyway. (sighs) Let's try to make the best of it, all right? I'll try to be nice to you if you can just extend me the same courtesy. Deal?
DARIA: Why should I be nice to you when this is all your fault?
QUINN: Huh? Look, I'm not the one who sent out the invitations, it's not my fault Erin's here two weeks early!
DARIA: And what about Aunt Rita?
QUINN: (nervously) Uh... what about her?
DARIA: Do you think I'm stupid? I couldn't blame you for that, really, I should have figured it out long before now. I know Dad wouldn't call her for any reason, and it's pretty unlikely that Mom did this as part of some harebrained scheme to get me to clean the guest room. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered calling her. Who does that leave? I'm in a generous mood, so I'll give you three guesses.
QUINN: I didn't tell Aunt Rita! It's not my fault her little brat couldn't keep her mouth shut!
DARIA: So you told Erin about this? Okay, what the hell did you do a thing like that for?
QUINN: You don't understand, I had to tell someone!
DARIA: The way you have to tell someone who Sandi's dating, or what Stacy's wearing to the Prom, or that time that Tom accidentally fell asleep in my room until four AM? This isn't the latest piece of gossip, Quinn! This is something our own parents wanted a lid on, and as far as I'm concerned it's their business and they were right about keeping it quiet! I'd kind of rather I didn't know myself, to be honest. But you figure it's some kind of teenage secret you can whisper about behind their backs? You know Quinn, I actually thought you were smarter than that. I guess that's what I get for re-evaluating my original opinion about you.
QUINN: Daria, let me explain!
DARIA: No, if you'll excuse me, I'd really rather not talk to you at all right now. (Daria picks up her remaining bags and storms out)
QUINN: (sigh) So what else is new?
END PART FIVE
(to be continued...)
DISCLAIMERS:
Daria and associated characters are the property of MTV which, in turn, is the property of Viacom. Characters are used without permission. The fact that MTV and Viacom are aware of Daria fan websites with fanfic content and choose not to take action against such sites is taken as implicit permission to use their characters in stories such as this one.
This story is Copyright 2002 by Mike Yamiolkoski and may be distributed freely only in its entirety and with the above notices intact.
Contact the author at MikeYamiolkoski@msn.com. Comments, reviews, and particularly ILLUSTRATIONS are always welcome!
