Daria: "Is Summer Over Already?" by Mike Yamiolkoski.



"Is Summer Over Already?"



Students are seated, O'Neill is "teaching"

O'Neill: Esteem. A teen. They don't really rhyme, do they? The words don't quite mesh.

Jane: (aside to Daria) Should we tell him he's got the wrong class notes?

Daria: Nah. He'll figure it out, eventually. Meanwhile, it's easy to tune out.

Jane: I couldn't help but notice that everyone in the school besides me has a list of compatible dates. Why is this?

Daria: Simple. I've got yours, and you don't get to see it. I don't want you eliminating every name on it before you even meet these guys.

Jane: What about your list?

Daria: You don't really think I filled one out, do you?

Jane: (holding up a list) Then explain to me where this came from.

Daria: Prepare for doom, Lane. And while you're at it, give me that!

Jane: Hold on there, firecracker. First of all, I just picked up the results; I didn't fill it out. Second, if you look really closely at the name at the top of the questionnaire, you'll notice that the "I" in "Daria" is dotted with a little heart.

Daria: Quinn.

Jane: That's my guess.

O'Neill: So, Kevin: What are we talking about when we talk about "Ourselves"?

Kevin: Um… you're talking about the teachers?

Daria: For a moment there, I thought Kevin might actually get that one right.

O'Neill: Wait a minute – Er, class? I seem to have the wrong notes…

Jane: Darn. I was looking forward to my eighth time through this course.


Daria and Jane are at a table in the corner.

Daria: I spoke with the first guy on your Lawndale List, and he wants to meet you after school.

Jane: Who is it? – Never mind, I don't want to know. Surprise me.

Daria: (voiceover) Oh, you'll be surprised. (out loud) He suggested a sidewalk café off Dega Street, up at the north end.

Jane: Souper Sandwich. I know the place.

Kevin: (from across the cafeteria) But Babe, I don't know why you're not on the list! You've always been at the top of my list before!

Brittany: I don't see my name there now! All I see is everyone else on the cheerleading squad! Just how many cheerleaders have you been seeing behind my back?

Kevin: Not all of them, I swear!

Brittany: And to top it off, I have to date Upchuck! Eewww!

Daria: That's one. I wonder who else he picked?

Jane: What do you mean?

Daria: I'll tell you later, when there's no chance of my being overheard by any of his other victims.

Jane: Should someone tell Brittany that you don't necessarily have to date the people on your list?

Daria: Nah. We could use a few sparks flying around here. Besides, I owe it to Upchuck to let him have his moment.

Jane: Who are you, and what have you done with Daria?

Daria: She sits before you. I figure that if Upchuck can make the most of this opportunity and actually succeed, more power to him. More likely, though, he'll show his usual true colors and end up with a large dry-cleaning bill.

Jane: So, have you looked over your own results?

Daria: Based on Quinn's responses to the quiz, my highest compatibility score was a 22 percent with Lloyd Gunther.

Jane: Who's that?

Daria: Remember self-esteem class? "We're talking about us"?

Jane: Ouch.

Daria: Not to worry. I actually consider it a real bonus not to be compatible with people at this school.

Jane: Did you do anything to Quinn?

Daria: Funny thing is, I took my revenge in advance. I changed a few key responses on her form.

Jane: Such as?


Quinn: Look, Sandi, I'm sure it's some kind of mistake!

Sandi: Mistake? Look at these results, Quinn. How do you explain this list?

Quinn: I don't know, Sandi!

Sandi: Well, I can tell you one thing: I don't care if there's a ninety-seven percent compatibility, I am not going out with you!

Quinn: Not so loud, Sandi!

Tiffany: (entering) Hey, Quinn… did you know you're on my list? That's so weird…

Quinn: Oh, the humanity…


Jane: You are evil, you know that?

Daria: (smirk) She should thank me. She's probably the only female in the school outside the two of us who didn't get Upchuck on her list.


It's afternoon, presumably right after school. Jane sits at a table, Daria stands next to it.

Daria: Your first date should be here in about five minutes. You sure you don't want to know who it is in advance?

Jane: I know who it's not. It's not Kevin, it's not Upchuck, it's not DiMartino. (shudders) I'm going to be up nights thinking about that.

Daria: Okay. Tom and I will be right inside. But, I don't think you'll need us for this one.

Jane: Now you've piqued my curiosity.

Daria: Just have fun. (exits)

Jane sits for a bit with her arms crossed. She crosses one leg over the other and bounces her foot a little. She riffles the sugar packets. In short, she fidgets for about two minutes.

Voice: Hi! You must be Jane!

Jane: (looking up) That's me. (She suddenly looks very surprised)

Ted Dewitt-Clinton sits down across from her.

Ted: I'm Ted! I hope you like this place. It's incredible what they do with potato skins here!

Jane: You were at the top of my list?

Ted: Yeah! And you were at the top of mine, too! Imagine that! Isn't it great that Daria arranged this date for us? She's pretty cool, huh?

Jane: (deadpan) Oh yeah. She's the best.


Tom and Daria sit at in indoor table with a view of Jane and Ted.

Tom: Let me get this straight: He's the ex-boyfriend of yours that Jane told me about?

Daria: Not exactly. We went out on one date, and I'm not really even sure you could call it that. But, he's the closest thing to an ex I have.

Tom: Irony. Do you think he and Jane will connect?

Daria: I know she won't hate him. He's too nice to hate. What's really funny is the way he matched almost everything on her list, and yet I can't imagine what they could possibly have in common.

Tom: Well, who knows? Maybe they'll be a hit.

Tom looks outside to see Jane leaning her chin on one hand and yawning while Ted prattles on.

Tom: Or not.


Ted: And so, that's why I think that de Goya's later work didn't show a Rembrandt influence as much as a Velazquez influence.

Jane: Uh-huh.

Ted: Daria said you're an artist. What do you think of Francisco de Goya's influence on the art world?

Jane: I don't see that it matters. What matters is what he drew from creating it, and what others draw from seeing it.

Ted: Hmm… I never thought of it that way.

Jane: (looking more animated now) Well, then what's it all about? Do you think good ol' Frank cared how historians would see his work in the grand scheme of things when he painted some blind guy getting gored by a rabid bull? Or, isn't it more likely that he was having a really bad day and wanted to get some of his anger out?

Ted: Umm…

Jane: Let me give you a good example. Say you've lived the sort of life that exposes you, through books and paintings, to an entire world that doesn't exist anymore and probably never really did. Then you get your first taste of real life, and you find that all the Renaissance artists and Greek philosophers in history can't compare to the taste of a cheddar-and-bacon potato skin. You start to see that however much you may have learned in a sheltered, protected environment, it absolutely pales in comparison to real experience. How does that make you feel? Tell me something, have you ever even kissed a girl?

Ted: What!?


Daria and Tom, still seated. Daria's got her back to Jane and Ted's table outside.

Daria: I'm starting to have serious misgivings about this. I mean, Jane's obviously having a lousy time.

Tom: I don't know about that. She just stuck her tongue down his throat.

Daria: Ha.


Daria: You're serious, aren't you?

Tom: Oh, yeah.

Faintly from outside, we hear Ted screaming. Doppler effect as he runs away.

Daria: Do I want to know?

Jane: (coming in from behind) I think I scared him.

Tom: Whatever gave you that idea? Besides the fact that he cleared a four-foot tall mailbox on the way out.

Jane: Hey, somebody had to do something. The kid's messed up in the head, I tell you.

Daria: I'm sure he's very grateful to you. Tell me, what would you have done if he'd kissed back?

Jane: Depends on whether he was any good at it. He's not so bad, just needs a little encouragement in the wrong directions.

Daria: Unfortunately, I don't think you're likely to get a second date.

Jane: Well, we've still got some more names to go through. Let's try one from Quinn's list next. I'm in that kind of mood.

From a few tables away, there's a sudden commotion. Brittany and Upchuck are dining together.

Brittany: You're so gross! I can't believe I let that computer talk me into going out with you!

Upchuck: Okay, you don't have to bring the pom-poms, just wear the uniform!

Brittany throws an entire pitcher of ice water into Upchuck's face.

Brittany: Take a cold shower, you jerk! (storms out)

Jane: Wow. Brittany said something mildly clever.

Daria: It's another wild afternoon at the Souper Sandwich Café.


Jane is seated before Quinn's lighted makeup mirror. Her hair is pulled back, and she's wearing a smock. Her face is covered with some kind of putty. Quinn's messing with beauty aids off to the side. Daria's on Quinn's bed.

Jane: I absolutely cannot believe I'm actually letting you do this.

Quinn: Come on, Jean, you can't go to Chez Pierre looking like, you know, like you!

Daria: It's Jane.

Jane: That's all right, I'd rather pretend Jean were here in my place. Tell me again, Quinn, why is my face covered with goo?

Quinn: It's exfoliator. Trust me, you needed it. Okay, we're ready for the next step: Hair!

Jane: Daria, please save me.

Daria: As much as I have sympathy for your position, I need to go get ready myself. Have fun, Jean. (she exits)

Quinn: Okay, here's what I was thinking: a little twist and tuck right here, to get rid of that mushroom shape.

Jane: Mushroom?

Quinn: Tell me, did you ever think of striping in some highlights?

Jane: Believe me, you really don't want to go there.

Quinn: Whatever. Okay, I've got a plan for the hair. Now, turn around and shut your eyes.

Jane: I want to see what you're doing.

Quinn: But you can't! I mean, look at it this way. You do little paintings and stuff, right?

Jane: I've been known to dabble in watercolors a bit.

Quinn: So, would you really want someone you're painting something for to see it before it was finished?

Jane: (sigh) Point taken. But remember, I'm not joining the fashion club here. Make sure I still look like me in the end, not a vacuous swimsuit-model wannabe.

Quinn: Like, we'd want you to join. And don't worry about the swimsuit model thing, you don't have the bust for it anyway.

Jane: Okay, I need another round of self-esteem class right about now.

Quinn: That, my dear Jane, is what makeovers are all about.


Daria opens her closet, sees two outfits just like the one she always wears, jeans, black t-shirt, and her bridesmaid dress. She sighs, and closes the closet again.


Jan is tilted back in her chair, Quinn applies makeup.

Jane: So, what's this guy like, anyway?

Quinn: Ronny? Well, he's sincere… he's nice, and dependable, and…

Jane: You've never gone out with him, have you?

Quinn: No.

Jane: Probably just as well. I wouldn't want one of your castoffs.

Quinn: I'd never wear a cast! They clash with everything!


Daria sneaks in, tiptoes over to the closet, and opens the door. She starts going through her mom's dresses.

Daria: No… too old… too silky… what's this?

Daria pulls out a very low-cut French Maid's outfit.

Daria: (putting it back hastily) That was really more than I wanted to know. (she searches some more) Ah, here we go.


Jane's still in the chair, Quinn's applying finishing touches.

Quinn: Just about there… All right! Prepare to be stunned!

Quinn swings the chair around so Jane can look in the mirror.

Jane: Whoa! Who the hell is that?

Quinn: You don't have to thank me, the work is rewarding enough. (quieter) That, and the fifty Daria gave me.


Daria is standing before a small mirror propped on her dresser, applying a thin layer of lipstick with obvious distaste. She's wearing a basic black dress with no accessories, and her boots.

Quinn: Wow, you're wearing makeup?

Daria: Eep! (turning on Quinn) What is it with you people sneaking up on me?

Quinn: God, Daria, don't go all psycho on me. I just wanted to tell you that I'm done working on your weird art friend. (notices Daria's dress) Where'd you get that from?

Daria: I'm not telling.

Quinn: Fine, just put it back when you're done, or Mom will think I took it. Like I'd ever take anything from her closet. Tell me you're not going to wear those boots with it, though.

Daria: Shouldn't you be preening for a date at this point?

Quinn: Fashion club meeting tonight. We're having a discussion on "Miracle Makeovers". Fortunately, Jane didn't see the camera.

Daria: Listen, Quinn, since I owe you one, I'll tell you this: Check that tape before you show it. It's liable to be switched with a documentary on the mating habits of baboons.

Quinn: Ewww! (runs out)

Jane: (from the doorway) Warthogs, actually.

Daria turns, and does a double-take when she sees Jane.


Tom steps up to the front door. He's wearing a dark blue suit with a gray turtleneck. As he's about to ring the bell, a car pulls up behind his. Ronny gets out. He's wearing a suit and tie.

Tom: Hey, you're Ronny? I'm Tom.

Ronny: Hey, Tom. (pause) So, do you know this Jane girl I'm taking out tonight?

Tom: Er… yeah, I know her a little.

Ronny: Quinn sounded kind of evasive on the phone about her. Just said she was this artist chick who hung out with her sister, or cousin, or something. (pause) Quinn's not coming, is she?

Tom: Not a chance.

Ronny: Thank God for small favors.

Tom: Not that I blame you, but what have you got against Quinn?

Ronny: She's shallow and manipulative, she's materialistic, she's whiny, and to top it all off, she wouldn't go out with me!

Tom: That makes sense.

Tom goes for the doorbell again, but is distracted by a yellow convertible pulling up behind his.

Tom: This is the place to be tonight, I guess.

Sandi, Stacy, and Tiffany get out of the car. Stacy is carrying a couple of large makeup cases.

Stacy: Hey guys, wait up!

Sandi: (to Tom and Ronny) I'm sorry, but Quinn can't see you tonight. We have an important meeting. She didn't have any business making a date as it is. We're going to have to have a serious talk with her.

Tom: Actually –

Sandi: By the way, you don't go to Lawndale, do you? I'm Sandi, President of the Fashion Club, it's a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps under other circumstances the two of us could go out sometime.

Tom: You see –

Sandi: I'd give you my phone number, but why don't you just ask Quinn for it? Come on, Stacy, stop wheezing! That is like, so unattractive!

Stacy: (gasp) Sorry, Sandi.

Tom: I'm not here to see Quinn.

Tiffany: Isn't anyone home?

Tom: I haven't rung the doorbell yet.

Sandi: Then why are we all standing out here? Wait, if you're not here to see Quinn, what are you doing here?

Tom: I'm here for Daria.

Sandi: That's funny, I thought you said you were here to see Daria.

Tom: I am. You're really unpleasant, you know that?

Sandi: Why, you –

The door opens. It's Quinn.

Quinn: Sandi! Tiffany! Stacy! Tom! Er…

Ronny: Ronny.

Quinn: Ronny, yes, of course. Come in, everyone!

Sandi: (shouldering past Tom) Excuse me.

Tom: You're excused.

Quinn: Never mind him, he's spent too much time around my cousin. Wait until you see this, guys! Daria! Jane! Come on down!

Daria appears first.

Daria: Hey, Tom.

Tom: Hey, Daria. You look great.

Sandi: Um, Quinn? She doesn't look any different to me.

Quinn: Not her! (points) Her!

Everyone looks, and jaws drop around the room.

Jane appears at the top of the stairs. Quinn has truly done a remarkable job. Her hair is pulled back and tucked under itself in a roll, with a slim lock winding down her left cheek. Her eyes are shadowed perfectly, there's a hint of blush, her lips a slightly brighter red than usual. Her dress is a long, sleek black-and red gown with a long slit up one side, and red heels. A silver necklace with a dark red stone and matching earrings finish her off. She looks ready to walk onto a runway.

Jane: Yo.

Daria: (to Tom) Quit staring.

Quinn: Can I cook, or can't I?

Jane walks down the stairs, a little unsteady in the heels, but compensating well. She walks up to Ronny, who's just short of drooling.

Jane: Hi. I'm Jane. We ready to go?

Ronny: Wow… I mean, yeah, sure!

Jane: Cool. Let's motor. Oh, one second – Quinn?

Quinn: Yeah?

Jane: Can I talk to you?

Quinn: (a little uncertain) Um, sure.

They step aside.

Jane: (whispering) What the hell did you do to me? Everyone's staring at me like I'm from outer space! Even Tom!

Quinn: Look, Jane, it's just your first makeover! Everyone's a little shy and uncertain the first time, but you'll get over it! Just make sure it's a memorable experience, and don't worry if it's not all you expected. It only gets better from here.

Jane: Are we talking about the same thing?


The party arrives. Jane looks a bit uncomfortable. Tom is holding Daria's hand, seemingly trying to compensate for his reaction to Jane. Ronny's looking at Jane with puppy-dog eyes. Daria looks like Daria.

Maitre'd: (heavy French accent) Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?

Tom: Oui, Monsier, un reservation pour quatre a huit heurs.

Maitre'd: Pardon?

Daria: Party of four, eight o'clock. Name, Tom Sloane.

Maitre'd: Ah, yes. Right this way.

Jane: (to Tom) Show-off.

Tom: I just like to deflate these guys a little.

Maitre'd Right here, ladies and gentlemen.

Ronny: (running ahead and pulling out a chair) Um, here you go, Jane.

Jane: Gee, thanks. I don't think I could have lifted that big, heavy chair all by myself.

Ronny: I could recommend something really good from the menu, if you want.

Jane: Do they have cheese fries?

Daria: Right there, under Frites des Fromage.

Ronny: Where?

Tom: Never mind.

Ronny: Hey Jane, if you really want cheese fries, I'll get them for you.

Jane: Er… that's okay, Ronny. I'll just get something else.

Ronny: Sure, Jane. Whatever you want.

Jane: Um… yeah.

a short while later…

Drinks have been served to the whole party. Jane sips hers and frowns a bit.

Jane: Hm. This Coke tastes weird.

Ronny: Let me get you a new Coke!

Jane: They have people to do that, Ronny. They're called waiters.

Ronny: I'll get a waiter, then. (he stands up, accidently bumping the table and spilling a glass of water into Jane's lap).

Jane: I'm just not having much luck with liquids tonight.

Ronny: I'm sorry, Jane! Here, let me help you with that.

Jane: No, Ronny, that's fine, really. I'll just go powder my nose. Daria, wanna come with?

Daria: Excuse me?

Jane: Daria, come to the restroom with me. It's what girls do, remember?

Daria: Sure, Jane. We'll be back in a jiff.


Jane stops in front of the mirror and leans heavily on the counter.

Daria: So, Jane, tell me why you've broken our unwritten rule and invited me to the bathroom.

Jane: This is a nightmare. What the hell am I doing? I get all dolled up like it's my wedding or something; we're in a restaurant I swore I'd never set foot in; my date keeps treating me like Quinn or something, when he's not undressing me with his eyes; and your date keeps staring at you like he can't look in my direction for fear he'll actually like what he sees.

Daria: Hey, look. Little mints.

Jane: I'm serious, Daria. I can't continue this date like this. We need to get out of this restaurant, I need to go somewhere where I can act more…

Daria: Barbaric?

Jane: Precisely. Besides, I hate myself in a formal dress.

Daria: And everyone else too.

Jane: Huh?

Daria: Never mind. I'll tell you what. You take a few minutes to decompose yourself. I'll take care of everything.

Jane: Thanks for being the unflappable one for tonight.

Daria: What are freakin' friends for?


Tom and Ronny are sitting, waiting for Daria and Jane to reappear.

Ronny: Am I doing something wrong?

Tom: Can you be more specific?

Ronny: I don't know, she just seems so uncomfortable. Is it me?

Tom: I hope so. Please don't ask me to explain that.

Ronny: So, what do I do?

Tom: If you want to know what will make Jane happy, what makes her tick, how to show her a good time…

Ronny: Yeah?

Tom: Believe me, you are asking the wrong guy.

Ronny: Oh.

Tom: But I'll give you three things to keep firmly in mind: One, don't pull her chair out for her. Two, try not to stare at her legs so much on the first date. Three, don't take it personally when either she or Daria comes back and ask to leave and go for pizza instead.

Ronny: But we just got here.

Tom: I'll bet my car that we're leaving within five minutes.

Ronny: Having seen your car, I'll put up a fiver.

Tom: I think I can make change for that.

Daria: (approaching from behind) Listen guys, would it be all right if we went somewhere else? Jane's, um, allergic to capers.

Tom: You know, I was just thinking that the bread doesn't look very fresh. I think we need to move on.

Ronny: Where's Jane?

Daria: Oh, she needed some fresh air. She said she'd meet us outside.

Ronny: I should go give her my coat. She might be cold.

Daria and Tom roll their eyes.


Tom, Ronny, and Daria all leave the restaurant, and stop short when they see Jane standing there. She's shaken her hair loose, replaced the earrings with her usual three rings in each ear, and applied her usual blood red lipstick. The overall look is even more enticing than her previous ensemble.

Jane: Let's go find someplace fun.


The place is fairly well packed. Off in the corner, the foursome is finding a table. On stage, an all-girl band is wailing "When Worlds Collide". The banner says "Monique and the Harpies".

Daria: (shouting to be heard) That's funny. She said she was going to start her own band.

Jane: (also shouting) She did. Then the Harpies failed, and she took the name back. Let's get some carbos, I'm starved.

Ronny: I think we're a little overdressed.

Jane: Relax, kid. Fashion isn't as important as some would have you believe. (whistles piercingly) Yo, waiter! A little service!

Daria: I'd have paid money to see her do that at Chez Pierre.

Time passes…

Jane: Anyway, it suddenly hit me that her idea of how to end the evening was very, very different from mine. I probably turned about three shades of pink when I realized what she was getting at.

Ronny: Whoa. So, what happened?

Daria: (to Tom) He sounds almost hopeful.

Tom: Quiet, I want to know what happened too.

Jane: I basically showed her the door. The next day, I discovered that she went straight from my place to our beloved mentor's bed, where she presumably spent the evening trying out new positions.

Daria: You know, you never told me what happened after that. I can't believe you left it there.

Jane: That's another story. So, Ronny, what did you do this summer?

Ronny: Uh… I worked at K-mart, actually.

Jane: Oh.

The conversation halts.

Ronny: I did see someone get nailed for shoplifting, though.

Daria: Really? Tell us about it, please.


Ronny is dropping Jane off. They stay in the car for a moment.

Ronny: So, I guess this is goodnight.

Jane: Yeah. I had a decent time. Sorry things didn't go just like you planned.

Ronny: Oh, well. Listen Jane… I'm getting the impression that I'm not the guy you're looking for.

Jane: To be honest, no.

Ronny: That's all right. I don't think I could keep up with you anyway. I feel like we've already been on six dates tonight.

Jane: Hey, look on the bright side. At least this didn't cost you dinner at Chez Pierre.

Ronny: There is that.

Jane gets out.

Jane: Take it easy, kid.


Tom's dropping Daria off.

Daria: Well, at least that was a slightly less spectacular failure than the last one.

Tom: Hey, that's only two down. It might still work.

Daria: I know. And you know what else? Jane was right. Throw in a fourth person, even if he's a flake, and things work out much better.

Tom: So we're not doing this for nothing, then.

Daria: Thank God for small favors. Let's try one off your list next.

Tom: Sure. I'll set it all up. Can I walk you in?

Daria: Nah. Someone might be watching the front porch. (she leans over and kisses Tom with gusto) It's better this way, don't you think?

Tom: Let me check. (he kisses her with equal enthusiasm) Yeah, this works for me.

Daria: Well, goodnight. (she leaves. Tom's obviously a bit disappointed that she didn't stick around a bit longer. He turns some light music on the radio and drives off.)


Jane and Daria are watching their favorite show.

TV: He choked down fifty-seven plates of fish and chips in one sitting – and went back for more! The Lord of the Fries, next, on SickSadWorld!

Jane: So, who's the next lucky fellow to win a date with Jane?

Daria: Tom's setting this one up. Tonight at the Zen, eight o'clock.

Jane: Well, you guys don't have to chaperone then. Spiral's playing tonight.

Daria: Ouch. I hope they don't scare him away. Tom said he's a musician.

Jane: Relax. He probably won't recognize Mystik Spiral as music. By the way, can I see the ad he placed?

Daria: I thought you might want a little more advance warning this time. Here it is.

Jane: Hmm… Single White Male musician seeks artistic, outgoing woman for inspiration. That's it? I don't know, I'm not that outgoing.

Daria: Ted Dewitt-Clinton might disagree with that.

Jane: He needed it, I tell you. He'll thank me for it someday.

Daria: Just try to get five minutes into your next date without giving him French lessons.

Jane: Fine. God, I hope this works soon. It's been months since I had a decent foot massage.

Daria: Why don't you ask Trent to do it?

Jane: Why don't you kiss your sister?

Daria: (shudders) Ew. Point taken.


Trent and Jesse are on stage, setting up the equipment. The place isn't crowded yet, but there are a few early arrivals. Jane enters and approaches the stage.

Jane: Yo, Trent!

Trent: Hey, Janey. What's going on?

Jane: I'm meeting someone here. Daria and Tom set it up.

Trent: Blind date, huh? Cool. Where is he?

Jane: I just got here, I don't know. He's a musician.

Trent: Ouch. Musicians are bad news, Janey. Watch yourself around this guy.

Jane: Trent, you're a musician.

Trent: That's why I know so much about them. Just sit where we can see you from the stage, okay?

Jane: All right, if it'll make you feel better. But don't scare him away, all right?

Jane goes over to the bar and flags down the bartender.

Jane: Yo, barkeep!

Bartender: You need something?

Jane: I'm looking for someone. Supposed to meet him here. His name is (she pulls a paper out of her pocket) Maximillian.

Max: (standing next to her, turns around) Jane?

Jane: Hey, Max. (pause) Oh God. Don't tell me…

Max: Wait a second. You're "Jane"?

Jane: If you're Maximillian.

Max: Whoa.

Jane: Okay, this is awkward.

Max: Look, Jane, umm… are you sure Trent's okay with this?

Jane: Max, sit down. We need to clear a few things up..

Max: Sure. Er, should I buy you a drink?

They go sit down.

Time passes while Jane clears a few things up.

Jane: So anyway, that's the whole story. Daria and Tom are trying to find me a boyfriend, and Tom didn't know I already knew you.

Max: That's cool, I guess. (seems a little down)

Jane: Look, Max, I'm sure you'll find someone. Someday. Well, mostly sure.

Max: Yeah. (raises an eyebrow) Say, Jane, I just had a thought…

Jane: Hold that thought. It would just be too weird, Max.

Max: Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, I know you only have eyes for Jesse.

Jane: Where the hell did you get that idea from? Never mind, I don't think I want to know. Look, the band's ready to start. Go up there and drum something. I'll stay and watch, and applaud just for you. It'll be kind of like a date.

Max: (brightens) Really? Thanks, Janey!

Jane: Trent calls me that. You do not.

Max: (sheepish) Yes, ma'am.


Jane's at a restaurant with some guy. He's trying to amuse her by folding napkins into various shapes. Jane looks over at Daria, across the restaurant, and makes a slashing motion. Daria crosses a name off her list.

Jane and her next date are at the theater, watching a play. Everyone stands up and applauds at one point, whereupon Jane takes off her headphones and joins in. She settles back in with the headphones before everyone else sits down.

Out jogging with her next date, Jane doesn't notice when he collapses and falls to all fours, completely out of breath. When she does look back, she just shrugs and runs on ahead.

Jane's at the Zen with another date. He's talking to her, she's not really that interested. When he leans forward and whisperes in her ear, her eyes go wide, then angry. Without a word, she pours the entire contents of a beer pitcher into his lap and walks off. The guy starts to go after her, but finds himself face to face with the members of Mystik Spiral. Jesse cracks his knuckles a few times. Sheepishly, the guy sits back down.

Overlooking the beach at sunset, Jane paints the landscape while the guy next to her shoots photographs. He pauses for a moment to looks at her canvas. Shaking his head, he points to various features of the landscape and then at her canvas. The look of disapproval on his face turns to mild surprise when Jane paints a bright red stripe down his nose, then returns to her work.

A guy drops Jane off at her house. She gets out of the car even as he leans over for what he thought would be a goodnight kiss, only to plant his face on the passenger seat. Jane doesn't even look back.



Tom and Daria are sitting together. Daria looks depressed.

Daria: After all that, we're right back where we started.

Tom: Look, Daria, we did our best. Jane knows it's not your fault. She's just not someone who can meet someone else that way. Jane needs to do things more spontaneously, and a blind date just isn't good for that.

Daria: I don't know why I ever thought this would work. No, that's not true. I knew it wouldn't work from the start. I don't know why I thought that wouldn't matter in the end.

Tom: Call me crazy, but I think you might have had a brief bout with Optimism.

Daria: You never think it'll happen to you. It's always someone else.

Jane: (entering) Hola, friends. What's up?

Daria: You seem happy. What's wrong?

Jane: Nothing. I just thought I'd join you for pizza.

Daria: Jane, you don't have to pretend everything's all right. That's worse than genuine awkwardness.

Jane: Who's pretending? I found a fourth for our group.

Tom: Really? Where is he?

Jane: Right here.

(Trent walks in)

Trent: Hey, Tom. Hey, Daria.

Daria: Trent?

Tom: Trent?

Jane: Trent. Come on, it's perfect. He gets along with all three of us, he likes pizza, and he has a car so we can split up afterward if we want to.

Trent: Besides, getting up by three o'clock every day will be good for me. I've been sleeping a little too much lately.

Daria: I have no idea what to say to that. There are just so many possible responses.

Trent: (laughs, coughs) That's funny, Daria.

Jane: See? This is great. And, there's no danger that he'll decide he wants to be someone else's brother.

Tom: (shifts uncomfortably) Umm…

Jane: Oh Tom, you big lug, get over here.

Tom stands up and walks over to Jane, who hugs him.

Jane: Just to show that any hard feelings are in the past.

Tom: Thanks, Jane.

Jane: (whispers in his ear) Don't you dare break her heart. (breaks hug) All right, who's for pizza?

The foursome sits down. Conversation goes on.


Tom and Daria sit on the couch, watching TV.

Daria: You know, I think this might actually work out.

Tom: There's that optimism again. You really should have that looked at.

Daria: Oh, I'm under no illusions that everything is now peachy keen. Trent's not the ideal solution, and Jane's still a little tense, even though she said all was forgiven. But it's better than before.

Tom: Speaking of tense, you look stiff as a board.

Daria: I know. After all this, I kind of find it hard to relax.

Tom: I have a great way for you to relax. Here, take off your shoes.

Daria: (blushes) Um, okay

Tom: Let me just get your feet in my lap…

Close up on Daria's face – she's still blushing, and looks a bit nervous. After a moment, she smiles, closes her eyes, and sinks back onto the arm of the sofa.

Daria: Mmmmmmmmmmm… (voiceover) Jane, you are sooo right…


End Notes:

As usual, I'll keep these as brief as I can.

Since there are those who don't like to read through end notes, I'll put this information here:

Comments, questions, scathing reviews? Dare I say it, fan art based on this story? (I can't draw) Contact me here: mailto:MikeYamiolkoski@cs.com

Among his many eccentricities, Howard Hughes collected his own urine and saved it in jars.

"Santa Claus Conquers the Martians" is a real movie, and an astonishingly bad one. The most significant thing about it is that it's Pia Zadora's big-screen debut.

Incidentally, I know perfectly well that the Pizza Delivery Kid's name is "Artie". I just don't think Daria and Jane would bother to commit his name to memory.

Although Ted has seen Jane before in "The New Kid" they were never actually introduced. And, he can't know her that well, if he saw Daria and Tom during "I Loathe a Parade" and assumed they were a couple. I set them up together because, having done a little mini-version of the compatibility test with the known Lawndale characters, I determined that they really were the closest match as far as interests go. Scary, isn't it?

I did some minimal research on Francisco de Goya. He does indeed have a painting called "Blind Man being Tossed by Bull" and was influenced by Rembrandt and Velazquez.

I ended up quoting a lot more lines in previous episodes than originally planned – there just seemed to be so many situations that reminded me of something that went before. Once again, I'm not going to footnote them, but I will list some of the episodes that were referred to:

"Is It Fall Yet?" (obviously)

"Dye, Dye my Darling"

"Daria Dance Party"

"The Lawndale Files"

"Through a Lens, Darkly"



"The New Kid"

"Pinch Sitter"

"Pierce Me"

And, I promised no references to other fanfics, but there is one very subtle one. For the rest of the story regarding Allison at the Art Colony, check out "Seeing Things Through" by Renfeld. It's a good read.

Thanks to:

My wife Rachel, who read the first draft and sent it back dripping in blood.

The webmasters who posted this story – whomever they are.

All the people at MTV who made Daria possible.


Disclaimer: Daria, et. al., are not my creations. They belong to MTV. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

This story, with its words chosen exactly so and put together in the proper order, is my creation, © 2001 by Mike Yamiolkoski, and may only be distributed in its entirety with the above information, name of the author, and E-mail address of the author intact.