BRUSH STROKES:
THE ADVENTURES OF JANE LANE

by Erin Mills
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Theme: "Lines"

Pencil, charcoal, pastel and brush
Across the canvas of life they play
lines intersect, lines depart
And so it goes on, day after day


Lines...

Following our path through life

Lines...

Through all of the pain and the strife

Lines...

Lines...

Lines...

(Opening sequence: We see a blank canvas, a hand comes in with a stub of charcoal and begins sketching. As each line is drawn we see ghostly images appear: Jane hugging Daria at an airport, Jane in the backseat of a cab, said cab passing by Trafalgar Square, Jane spattered with paint, side by side with a girl about the same age with red hair tied in a pony tail wearing a paint spattered blue blouse and spattered black flared jeans, Jane facing off against a moderately handsome guy with an arrogant expression and pencil thin mustache. As the theme ends, we pull back to see the picture being drawn is Jane in a circle, a paint brush in hand. The drawing turns color and goes off to the upper right corner of the screen with the title of the series. The title fades out and the title of the episode fades in:)

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Episode 1: Hello London
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(Fade in on an airliner flying through the sky. We dissolve to the interior of the plane and find our heroine, Jane Lane, leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, listening to her CD player. Her hair is slightly longer than it was, still in the same basic style but it isn't as angular as it used to be. There's a slight curl to her hair at the ends. leading in towards her face. There's a *bing* and Jane's eyes open. She slides the headphones off and listens.)

PILOT: (On intercom) Ladies and gentlemen we are preparing our final approach into the greater London area. Please turn off any electronic organizers, cell phones, laptops, and other personal electronics. Also, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables have been returned to their full upright and locked positions. The local time is 1:56 PM Greenwich Standard Time.

JANE: (yawns) Damn jetlag.

(Cut to a gate at Heathrow Airport. Jane comes out of the gate, still yawning and looking like she's about to pass out. She's dressed in a red golf shirt, one of her dad's old photographic vests, her usual charcoal shorts, except she's not wearing her leggings and boots. Instead, she's wearing a pair of blue sneakers and neon orange socks. She picks up her luggage and schleps her way to Customs. She waits paitently in line, yawning occassionally. When it's her turn, she puts her bags up on the counter; A medium sized suitcase, her portfolio, and her round black carry on bag with the skull and crossbones on it [as seen in "The Teachings of Don Jake"]. The Customs official raises an eyebrow slightly, then picks up a clipboard.)

CUSTOMS OFFICIAL: Passport and visa please. (Jane hands them over) And what brings you to Great Britain, Miss Lane?

JANE: (All answers are deadpan from exhaustion) I'm attending school.

OFFICIAL: And how long will you be staying in Great Britian?

JANE: Until I graduate...but I'm planning on flying back to the States in late May.

OFFICIAL: I see. (He looks at Jane.) Would you bring your luggage and follow me please?

JANE: (quirks one eyebrow) What's the problem?

OFFICIAL: There will be no problem, if you follow me, please.

(Jane sighs, picks up her bags, and follows the official to a small back room. There is a stainless steel table and a mirror on the wall.)

OFFICIAL: Place your bags on the table and open them, please.

(Jane rolls her eyes and does so. The official rummages through the suitcase with Jane's clothes, then moves onto the portfolio. He pulls out a couple of sketches, and examines them, mild appreciation showing on his face.)

JANE: I'm attending the Von Knipping Academy of Art.

OFFICIAL: I can see why. (He puts the artwork back and moves onto the the carryon) Hmmmm... What have we here? (He pulls out the Stickmata 5000)

JANE: Fastest glue gun on the market.

OFFICIAL: Ah. (Pulls out a rubber chicken, followed by a teddy bear in bondage gear. He looks over at Jane, who smirks and shrugs.)

JANE: Gag gift from my best friend.

OFFICIAL: (holding up a plastic bag full of glow in the dark star stickers which bulges slightly.) May I open this bag, miss?

JANE: Be my guest.

(The official raches in and pulls out several wrapped condoms. The stars stick comically to them. Another raised eyebrow.)

JANE: I fill 'em with paint and hurl them at the canvas. Plus you never know...

OFFICIAL: Hmmm. (He puts the condoms back in the bag and sets it aside. He looks into the carryon again. His eyes widen at something in it and he signals for Jane to come closer.)

OFFICIAL: What is that, miss?

JANE: Exactly what it looks like.

OFFICIAL: I see...would you switch it on, please?

JANE: Sure. (She reaches into the carryon. There's a click and the carry on begins to vibrate and occasionally bounce on the table. The Customs official looks shocked for a moment while Jane simply smirks.)

OFFICIAL: Um...yes, I believe that will be sufficent, Miss Lane.

(Jane flips the switch again and the carry on stops moving. The official makes a few marks on the clipboard, then hands Jane her passport and visa.) Well, everything seems to be in order. Sorry for the delay. Welcome to London, Miss Lane.

JANE: (Putting everything back in her bags) Thanks. Which way to the bus?

(Cut to the interior of a bus, as Jane rides through the streets of London. We see several common landmarks, such as Nelson's Column, the London Bridge, and others. Eventually she gets off the bus in front of a large gated compound. Through the gate we can see several large house-like buildings. A large plaque next to the gate declares this to be the "Von Knipping Academy of Art." Jane opens the gate and begins making her way to the largest building. As soon as she reaches the steps that lead up to the building--)

GIRL'S VOICE: Look out!

(Jane looks up, surprised, sees a split second shot of a girl with red hair tied back in a ponytail and SPLAT! She's covered in wet plaster and lavender paint. She wipes the muck out of her eyes and looks at the mess that was once her luggage.)

JANE: Where's Daria when I need her?

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COMMERCIAL BREAK: Coming From Shallow 15 Productions: The Carnival is Coming...
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(Back to the action. We see the front doors of the dormitory from the inside of the building. They open, and the still covered Jane comes in, hauling her luggage behind her. Cut to behind the desk at the other end of the room. To staitcases lead up from the ground floor on either side of the desk. Behind the desk is a middle aged woman with aubrun hair going slightly gray. She turns to look at the gunk covered apparition before her...and fights to keep from laughing.)

WOMAN:(coming out from behind the desk) Oh my...are you all right, miss?

(Jane drops her luggage.)

JANE: Oh, fine, just point me in the direction of the redheaded psychopath who likes turning passersby into bad purple replicas of the Venus de Milo, call the closest hospital and tell them to expect someone in 15 minutes with an umbrella in a very uncomfortable place and I'll be fine.

WOMAN: (laughs nervously, not sure whether Jane's serious or not.) Um...can I get you a towel?

JANE: No, just get me to a shower before this stuff hardens. I'm supposed to be living here.

WOMAN: Ah! I see. Well, in the light of the situation, we'll handle the paperwork later. Right now, if you'll just give me your name, I'll help you take all...this (indicates luggage) to your room.

JANE: Jane Lane.

WOMAN: Ah yes, the scholarship student. Pleased to meet you. I'm Mrs. Wilcox, the house mother. Well done on that, by the way. Not many American students have gotten the Friedman Memorial Scholarship.

JANE: Yeah, great. About that shower?

MRS. WILCOX: Oh, of course. So sorry. (looks over a clipboard) Ah, here you are...oh dear.

JANE: What?

MRS. WILCOX: Well...it appears that your roommate IS the redheaded psychopath responsible for your current, uh, appearance.

(Close up on Jane)

JANE: WHAT?!

(Cut to a dorm room. We see a girl with red hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in a blue middy blouse and black paint-spattered flared jeans sitting at the window, slapping plaster onto an abstract sculpture. There's a knock at the door.)

GIRL: (with a Scottish accent) Come in!

(Mrs. Wilcox and Jane enter.)

MRS. WILCOX: Sasha, your new roommate is here.

(Sasha stands up, wipes her hands on a towel, and turns, hand outstretched.)

SASHA: Nice to meet you, I'm Sasha MacTavish.

(Her smile fades as she sees Jane, still plaster covered standing behind Mrs. Wilcox. Jane takes her hand.)

JANE: Hi. You can call me Venus, I'll be your murderer this afternoon.

(Dissolve to later. Sasha is back working at her sculpture, while casting the occasional furtive glance behind her at Jane, who is now cleaned up and unpacking.)

SASHA: I really am sorry about that. I wasn't trying to hit you. I knocked the bucket out accidentally.

JANE: Look, Sasha, I let you off the hook already. It's fine. I should have expected it around here. (she smirks) Now I know how Daria must have felt at the parade.

SASHA: Who?

JANE: Oh, an old friend back home. (She takes out a framed photo of her and Daria at the Zon and places it on the shelf above her bed.) She got a couple of buckets full of paint dumped over her once.

SASHA: For an art project?

JANE: (short laugh) No. Daria's not an artist...at least not with paint.

SASHA: So, did you have any problems with Customs when you got to Heathrow?

JANE: A little. Nothing major though. (Reaches into her carryon) Nearly gave the Customs guy a heart attack when this happened though. (*click* and the suitcase starts bouncing around again. Sasha's eyebrows raise. Jane smirks again.)

SASHA: What in the WORLD is that?

(Jane pulls out the item. It appears to be a mass of neon colored pens all taped together in one large bundle. She runs her hand along a series of switches and the mass of pens starts rolling over her hand.)

JANE: Squiggle pens. Fun for making people wonder.

SASHA: And other things?

JANE: Well, that goes without saying. (she turns the pens off)

SASHA: (getting up, and wiping her hands on the towel.) Well, not much else to do until the plaster dries. Would you like to see some of the place?

JANE: Sure. I'm pretty much finished unpacking until the rest of my stuff gets here through the mail.

(Cut to the outside of the dormitory. Sasha and Jane come out and walk through the campus, Sasha playing tour guide)

SASHA: Well, we just left the women's dorm, obviously. Over here is the Tremberth Gallery. It has a few classic works, but mostly stuff from prestigious alumni that have graduated.

JANE: In other words, the ones with both talent and money?

SASHA: (wry grin) Sometimes not even the talent.

(They keep walking, passing by the Gallery and over to a cluster of four ivy choked buildings.)

SASHA: These are the remnants of the original Von Knipping estate. They lost all their money just after World War One and converted most of it into the original academy. All talented artists in their own way...

JANE: Never sold a painting, huh?

SASHA: Not a one. (beat) Anyway, these buildings are normally used for class work and individual studios.

JANE: We get studios?

SASHA: Not all of us. Mostly the graduating students who are working on their final projects.

(Jane looks around an points to a small building across the quad.)

JANE: What's that?

SASHA: Oh, that's Greiner Auditorium. We use that for small performance art pieces...and the occasional party.

JANE: How long have you been going here, Sasha?

SASHA: This is my second year. I stay in the dorm since apartments are ridiculously expensive.

JANE: Where are you from?

SASHA: Edinburgh, originally. I have a very strange heritage. My father was born in Glasgow, and my mother is from Kiev.

JANE: Scottish and Russian. Must make family gatherings...interesting.

SASHA: You have no idea. Most people think it's a huge brawl before they realize that we're just naturally that loud.

JANE: Any siblings to drive you nuts?

SASHA: Six. All older than me, thank God. My parents had me late in life. The others were already out of the house when I was born.

JANE: How old are your parents? I mean, if all your brothers and sisters--

SASHA: Just sisters.

JANE: Sisters, then. If they were all out of the house when you were born, that would make your--

SASHA: (getting a large grin. It's apparent she loves to spring this on people) My father is 74, and my mother is 55. I guess I should have mentioned that my mother is my father's second wife. All my sisters are from his first marriage.

JANE: Congratulations. You officially have a more bizzare family than mine.

SASHA: Oh? What's so unusual about your family?

JANE: From the time I was 7, my older brother Trent and I basically raised ourselves. My other brother and my sisters are scattered to the four corners of the earth. Dad's always off photographing something in a foreign country when he's not in jail for expired visas. And when Mom isn't somewhere else in the world, she spends her time in her underground ceramics bunker.

SASHA: Hmmm. That IS odd. Where's your brother these days?

JANE: Asleep in the house for all I know. He was at the airport when I left. He's a musician.

SASHA: Ah. I see.

(At that moment, the girls turn the corner and Jane collides with someone coming the other way. She gets knocked down. She looks up. Close up on the other individual, a tall arrogant looking man with brown hair and a pencil thin mustache dressed in tan slacks, black turtleneck, and a buttoned purple vest. They glare at each other....)


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COMMERCIAL BREAK: What do you get when you mix a painting class, an arrogant classmate, a destroyed project, and a custom Lotus? Find out in "Dueling Egos," next on "Brush Strokes: The Adventures of Jane Lane."
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(Back to the show. Jane is still on the ground with the guy glaring down at her.)

GUY: Why don't you look where you're going?

JANE: Where I'M going? I could say the same thing to you, pal!

GUY: Oh...an American. Typical.

(Jane gets to her feet, reasonably annoyed.)

JANE: Typical! I'll show you typical, you Dick Dastardly-looking--

SASHA: (quickly) Uh, Jane, let me introduce you to one of the upperclassmen here. Neville St. John.

NEVILLE: Excuse me if I don't shake hands.

JANE: Why? Didn't wash them when you came out of the restroom?

SASHA: Neville, this is Jane Lane.

NEVILLE: My dear Sasha, I could care less who this clumsy oaf is...did you say Jane Lane?

SASHA: (with a smug grin on her face) Yes, I did.

(Neville's eyes widen, and his face gets decidedly strained.)

NEVILLE: Excuse me. (he brushes past them in a hurry.)

JANE: Yeah. Go figure out where Dr. Frankenstein hid your manners! (to Sasha) What was that all about?

SASHA: Well, I'm afraid you found out sooner than anyone would have liked. Neville used to be the Golden Boy around here.

JANE: What do you mean 'used to be?'

SASHA:(looking at Jane, perplexed.) You don't know, do you?

JANE: Know what? What are you talking about?

SASHA: The Friedman Scholarship is the Holy Grail around here. It's given to the student that the Selections Committee believes is the most talented student attending that year. Until you applied, Neville had it for the last three years. He wasn't too happy when he learned he was going to have to pay for this year's classes.

JANE: So you're saying that...

SASHA: You're the new Teacher's Pet around here, Jane.

JANE: Oh, GREAT. I've only been here four hours and I already have an arch-enemy.

SASHA: Afraid so. And you already have three strikes against you, to use a baseball metaphor.

JANE: Say what?

SASHA: Well not only did you get the scholarship, but you're a woman and and American.

JANE: Marvelous. So my archenemy is also a sexist and an isolationist.

SASHA: Oh yes. (They walk past a building) Oh, give me just a second, Jane. I need to duck in here. Nature, you know.

JANE: Sure. Go ahead.

(Sasha goes into the building, leaving Jane outside admiring the campus. After a minute, a short, rat faced individual comes up to them and hands Jane a box with a red ribbon.)

RAT FACE: Ah, you must be the American who won the Friedman Scholarship. On behalf of the Von Knipping Welcome Committee, please accept this welcome gift.

JANE: (taking the box) Um, thanks.

RAT FACE: (smiling) Anytime. Enjoy your stay.

(He runs off and Jane examines the box. She shrugs and begins undoing the ribbon. At that point Sasha comes out of the building. She spots Rat Face running across the quad.)

SASHA: Now what is HE up to? (she sees Jane about to open the box. Her eyes widen sharply) JANE! DON'T!

JANE: What?

(POOF! The box spews out a cloud of white powder that covers Jane from head to foot. Jane blinks out from the covering.)

JANE: What the HELL was that?!

(After a moment we see what it is. Red blotches appear on Jane's arms and legs and she starts scratching madly. Sasha comes up and begins escorting her back to the dorm.)

SASHA: Come on, let's get you to the shower before it gets up to strength.

(Cut to the dorm room. We can hear the water running in the 3/4 bath that attatched to the room. Sasha is standing outside the closed door.)

SASHA: Jane, I'm SO sorry. I should have warned you. That was Cyril. He's one of Neville's toadies and he's also a chemistry buff.

JANE: (from behind the door) What the hell was that crap?

SASHA: Cyril's industrial grade itching powder. He likes things like that.

JANE: You think Neville sent him after me?

SASHA: Knowing Neville, he's had Cyril waiting for you to show up ever since he found out your name. Must be where he dashed off to after you ran into him.

(The water shuts off and Jane comes out in a red robe, drying her hair. She's visibly pissed.)

JANE: Where does Neville live?

SASHA: Over in the men's dorm across campus, why?

JANE: Does he have a set schedule?

SASHA: What?

JANE: A routine? Places he always goes at a certain time of day?

SASHA: (looks at the clock on the wall) Well, he usually heads for the cafeteria in about half an hour.

(Jane gets an evil glint in her eye and grins...)

(Dissolve to the Cafeteria. Neville and Cyril are coming up to the building.)

CYRIL: You should have seen it, Nev! She started dancing like a hyperactive midget on heroin!

NEVILLE: Your ridiculous similies never cease to amuse me, Cyril. And stop calling me "Nev."

CYRIL: Oh, right. Sorry, Neville. But that ought to let her know what happens when an American tries to steal your scholarship. I keep this up, and she'll be out of here like shinola through a goose.

NEVILLE: Cyril?

CYRIL: Yeah?

NEVILLE: Shut up.

(They proceed up the stairs. Close up at the top of the steps leading up. A thin tripwire is stretched across the top of the steps. Nevilles foot crosses and sets off the tripwire. Cut to Neville and Cyril just as two buckets of Sasha's plaster and paint mix splatter down onto them. As they stand covered in gunk and wiping it out of their eyes, Jane and Sasha pass by.)

JANE: So I said to Trent--(notices the guys) Oh! Neville, what happened?

SASHA: Looks like he's been the victim of some sort of henious prank.

JANE: But who could have done it, Sasha? Certainly this sort of thing is far beyond anything us mere females could possibly do.

SASHA: Looks like it will remain a mystery, Jane.

JANE: (to Neville) You know, that looks like that quick hardening plaster. You guys better get to a shower before you're stuck here all night.

(Saying this, the two girls enter the cafeteria. Cut to Neville, who is looking even more angry than before.)

NEVILLE: Very well, Miss Lane. I'll pick up the gauntlet.

(Dissolve to later. Sasha and Jane are laughing and revelling in their revenge.)

SASHA: That was PRICELESS. Did you see the expression on his face?

JANE: I thought he was going to have a heart attack!

SASHA: You do realize he won't let this slide.

JANE: Who cares? He started it, and if he wants to continue this crap, I'll be more than happy to demonstrate all 45 chapters of the patented Morgendorffer-Lane Little Black Book of Vengance to him.

SASHA: The Morgendorffer-Lane..?

JANE: ...Little Black Book of Vengance. One day during our senior year, Daria and I got bored and compiled it together. We came up with 45 different categories of non-lethal vengance. Useful in any given situation.

(Sasha laughs and opens the dorm room door...and immediately a balloon filled with orange tempera paint falls from above and splatters all over her.)

JANE: (grinning) And that would be entry number one.

(Sasha glares at her, then grins.)

SASHA: Welcome to London, Jane.

JANE: Thanks...You know, I think I'm going to like it here.

(Freeze frame. The picture goes blue and the credits start to roll...)



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"Jane Lane" is copyright (C) 2001 MTV Networks and Viacom International. "Sasha MacTavish," "Neville St. John," and "Von Knipping Academy of Art" and all related characters and locations are (C) 2001 by Erin Mills.

Special Thanks to Jill "Leopard Lady" Friedman for all her help in getting me out of the occasional mudhole I got stuck in while writing this.