Daria and Jane are engaged in an epic struggle against the Dark Side of the Sarcasm.

U n n a t u r a l B e h a v i o u r.

EXT. FAWLTY TOWERS – LATER AFTERNOON
It is an idyllic day at Fawlty Towers, a little hotel in the middle of Torquay in England

POLLY VOICE OVER:
Mr. Fawlty it isn't my fault!

BASIL VOICE OVER:
Well then, whose fault is it?

POLLY VOICE OVER: (pause)
No, you are right. It is my fault.

VOICE OF BASIL: (enraged)
MANUEL!!! Where is he! I am going to insert this big

THE CAMERA PANS TO:
A sign, with leads to the hotel, consisting the hotel's name. But instead of:
FAWLTY TOWERS
It says:
WYLEF WAR TOT

A car pulls up.

DARIA VOICE OVER:
Wylef war tot? Wylef was dead? I didn't knew that German Tourists would come to this place.

JANE VOICE OVER:
Why not? After all they are Germans.

The car stops in front of the hotel entrance.
Daria and Jane with their backpacks get out.
Vincent Lane (Jane's father), who is at the steering wheel, talks to them.

VINCENT:
Well this is the place where you can stay the night. And tomorrow I show you the recently discovered Celtic rock formation of Torquay.

JANE:
I can't wait to see the new rival of Stonehenge. Bye Dad.

VINCENT:
Bye Jane. Bye Daria

DARIA: (mutters)
Bye.

Daria stays mute, as she watches how the car leaves the hotel.

JANE:
Is it just me, or were you staring at him during the ride?

DARIA:
What?

JANE:
You were comparing him to Trent, weren't you?

DARIA:
I hate you.

Jane smirks and they both enter.

INT. FAWTY TOWERS – RECEPTION LOBBY – EVENING
Sybil Fawlty, a blonde middle-aged women, is doing some paperwork at the reception desk.
She notice Daria and Jane.

DARIA AND JANE:
Good afternoon.

SYBIL: (little pause and smiles)
Good afternoon, you must be Americans.

DARIA: (deadpan)
Oh dear, has it shown again?

JANE: (trying to sound more Oxford-English)
Please forgive the insolence of my companion. But there were several occurrences since our arrival in the United Kingdom, in which locals uncover our national heritage due our lingual pronunciations.

DARIA:
Your vocabulary expansion tapes really did pay off.

SYBIL: (remaining polite)
Excuse me. I don't mind to displease you

JANE:
Never mind only joking. We would like to book 2 single rooms for 2 nights please.

SYBIL:
I am sorry. We have got no single rooms left at the moment. We are almost booked out.
(she takes a look at the board behind her)
Well there is only one double room with a bath left

JANE:
That is fine.

SYBIL:
But there is double bed. You don't mind to share it?

JANE:
(to Sybil Fawlty)
I don't see any problems. I mean:
(to Daria)
Since we both are like sisters.

DARIA:
Which is bizarre, when you ever have met my real sister.

Suddenly Sybil's mobile telephone start to ring.

SYBIL:
Excuse me for a moment.
(she speaks into the mobile)
Sybil Fawlty speaking oh dear oh dear oh I know oh I know
(to Jane and Daria)
Excuse me for a moment.
(loud)
BASIL!

VOICE OVER BASIL
Yes dear?

SYBIL:
Would you please deal with our new customers.

Basil Fawlty, a very tall dark haired man with a moustache, enters form the dining room. He holds a huge cactus in his hands.

BASIL: (sarcastic)
Certainly Dear! Anything else? Like writing a concerto or reconstructing a roman temple?

SYBIL:
Just take care of them Basil. They are in room 12.

She walks with her mobile phone into the office behind the reception desk and closes the door.
Basil Fawlty walks behind the desk puts down the cactus and observe the two young ladies.
Noticing that they are back-packers, and not that kind of people he usually want to attract to his hotel. He visible struggles against his arrogance.

BASIL: (trying to be friendly)
How long you want to stay?

JANE:
2 nights.

BASIL: (moves a book towards them)
That would be room 12 for 2 nights, please sign here.

Daria and Jane put down their signatures.

BASIL: (glancing at the entries)
Excuse me!
Ms. *Daria* *Morgendorffer*? Ms. *Jane* *Lane*?
I think you should know, that it is common practise in the hotel culture, that people sign with their *own* names.

Daria and Jane look at each other.
Both sight and put down signatures again.

BASIL: (glancing at the entries and is satisfied)
Okay:
Ms. Christina Aguillera and Ms. Britney Spears.
Right, that didn't hurt much, did it?

He turns to the key board behind him, but then turns back slowly, glaring at them.
He must have realise that he heard those names before in the context of mainstream pop.

Daria and Jane pull out their passports.

DARIA:
Blame our parents.

JANE:
Do you want a DNA-sample too?

Both stretch their passports to Basil Fawlty, showing him their *real* names.
Annoyed he looks at them.

BASIL: (highly sarcastic)
*Excuse* *me* my previous impertinence. I *failed* to consider that you are *Americans.*

He turns back to the key board.

DARIA: (whispers to Jane)
Now I understand, why the youth hostel was booked out.

Basil Fawlty turns back with a key.

BASIL: (bangs the hotel desk bell)
Manuel!
(to Daria and Jane)
I pledge you in advance to forgive him for any future inadequacies. But he is from Barcelona.
(shouts into the dinning room)
MANUEL!

A small man (nearly as short like Daria) with dark hair and a dark moustache, dressed in a white waiters suit, enters the lobby and rubs his behind, due a previous cactus attack.

MANUEL:
Que?

BASIL: (worst Spanish)
Por favor traya los estospetates dos autostoppistilleras en la habitstacion numero doze.

MANUEL:
Que?

BASIL: (worst Spanish louder)
*Trayo* los *estospetates* dos *autostoppistilleras* en la habitstacion numero *doze*.

MANUEL:
It is impossible.

BASIL: (threatening with worst Spanish)
Look Manuel, it is perfectly simple:
*TRAYO* los *ESTOSPETATES* dos *AUTOSTOPPISTILLERAS* en la habitstacion numero *DOZE*.

Manuel starts to wimp. But before any drama can unfold, Jane saves the situation.

JANE: (fine Spanish with an American accent)
No escuche ese crédulo detrás del mostrador; demuéstrenos la manera al cuarto doce, por favor.

MANUEL: (smiles)
Ahhh! You are Americans!

Daria and Jane roll their eyes at each others, while Manuel grabs their backpacks.

MANUEL:
You do speak Spanish very good. Please follow me! Follow me!

Basil glares at them while they walk upstairs.
Sybil comes out the office and is gets her car keys out of her handbag.

BASIL:
Where are you going?

SYBIL:
Do you remember Paula? She just gave me a call. Her husband has left her again. So I better look after her, she is in a terrible state. I won't be back before 11 o'clock...

BASIL: (sarcastic)
Oh Sybil, your overall kindness really makes Mother Teresa look alike Imelda Marcos.

SYBIL:
I have got no time to argue with you.

She gets her coat.

BASIL:
Sybil, why did you let American *Backpackers* check in?

SYBIL:
Well this is a *hotel*, dear. And you always wanted to have a more international flair in our guest house.

BASIL:
But they are backpackers!
They are not those kind of high-class clientele, we want to attract.
I mean what comes next?
Brazilian globetrotters?
Rumanian gypsies?
Tibetan pilgrims?
Martians invaders?
(mocking)
Visit Fawlty Towers: The worlds number one for the scum of the world.

SYBIL: (smirks)
With you now being alone in charge, you certainly can accomplish that goal, dear.

Sybil walks out the hotel.

BASIL: (loud)
Bye, my little joy of life
(quiet)
Don't drive over any landmines.
(Basil Fawlty looks down at the paper, which Daria and Jane just signed)
American backpackers phhhhhht.