THE WINDS OF CHANGE
A "Daria" Fan Fiction Story
by
Peter W. Guerin

================================================================

With apologies to Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis.

================================================================

AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER AND INTRODUCTION

================================================================

None of this ever happened.  This story is entirely a work of fiction.
This story takes place in-between the first and second semesters of Daria
Morgendorffer’s freshman year at Raft University.

I know that in my last essay "Hail and Farewell, Daria", I had said that I
wasn’t going to write another "Daria"-related thing ever.  However, this
is a story that I think needed to be told since it addresses a few items
not resolved in the series-ending movie "Is It College Yet?", especially
Lindy’s drinking problem and Daria’s lingering feelings for Trent and Tom.
After this, I will not pull a Michael Jordan and write another "Daria"
story; this is going to be it for me this time.  I’ve said everything that
needs to be said about Daria and her world.

All "Daria" characters are © 1993, 1997, 2002 MTV Networks, Inc., a
division of Viacom International, Inc.  All Rights Reserved.

================================================================

AUTHOR’S DEDICATION

================================================================

This fan fiction story is respectfully dedicated to the late Jack Shea of
Lake Placid, New York, winner of the gold medal in men’s speed skating in
the 1932 Winter Olympics, father of 1964 Winter Olympian Jim Shea, and
grandfather of 2002 Winter Olympics skeleton competitor Jimmy Shea.  His
life had recently been cut down by a drunk driver just before the 2002
Winter Olympics began in Salt Lake City, Utah.  God has reserved a place
for him at that speed skating oval in the sky.

================================================================

“Anyway the wind blows/Doesn’t really matter to me.”
--Freddie Mercury, Queen, “Bohemian Rhapsody”

================================================================

The traffic on the Tri-County Freeway was backed up for as far as Daria
Morgendorffer could see.  Here she was, sitting behind the wheel of her
brand-new, forest green 2002 Volkswagen New Beetle that her parents gave
her as a going-away gift before she left for her freshman year at Raft
University, and she was going to be late for dinner.

Suddenly, the cell phone next to her began to ring.  Letting out a sigh,
Daria picked it up.

“Yo!,” said the familiar voice of Daria’s partner in crime, Jane Lane.
“How’s traffic where you are?”

“Backed up as far as Oakwood, from what I heard on the radio,” Daria
replied.  “It’s this sudden snowstorm that hit us out of nowhere that’s
doing this.”

Indeed, it was still snowing like the dickens out there.  The weatherman
said it was going to be about eight inches before it was all over, and the
plows were just barely keeping pace with it.  Daria turned up the heat in
the VW.

It had been a crazy first semester over at Raft University.  The classes
weren’t that difficult for someone of her intelligence, but there was the
adjustment to living at a dorm.  Her roommate, Deanna Moore, was just as
airheaded as her sister Quinn, with the morals of an alleycat.  There
wasn’t a Friday night--or a Saturday night or Sunday night for that
matter--where Daria didn’t come back from her classes for the day and saw
the tell-tale sign of a sock draped over the knob, indicating that
whoever Deanna had brought over was going to spend the night with her.
Thankfully Daria usually spent those night over at Jane’s dorm over at the
Boston Fine Arts College or at some local pizzeria or even at Raft’s
library.  Then there was the new relationship she was having with a fine
young man she met in journalism class named Frank Gould.  Frank clearly
wasn’t a self-pompous jerk like Tom Sloane was; Frank was at Raft on a
full scholarship he won in an essay contest sponsored by a newspaper
publishing company.  He was supposed to meet up with Daria later on in the
week; they had planned to introduce him to Jake and Helen during
Thanksgiving but those plans fell through when a Frank’s great-grandfather
died during the break.  Frank had rather strong opinions on the state of
journalism today, about how the media sold out just like Edward R. Murrow
warned it would.

Things at home had been topsy-turvy as well.  Helen finally got a
partnership with the law firm, and Jake had landed a big consulting deal
with a major computer software company.  Furthermore, after spending the
summer apart, Quinn’s friends Sandi Griffin, Stacy Rowe and Tiffany
Blum-Deckler decided to reform the Fashion Club, albeit Quinn, Stacy and
Tiffany now enjoyed considerably more input into club affairs than they
did previously.  During that summer before Daria left for Raft, Timothy
O’Neill and Janet Barch finally got married, and the Board of Education
had completed its investigation in regard to Lawndale High Principal
Angela Li’s decision to agree to a sponsorship contract with Ultra Cola;
as a result, Li wasn’t fired, but she was demoted to being principal of
one of the district’s elementary schools, where she would essentially be
rendered harmless.  Anthony DeMartino was now Lawndale High’s principal,
and one of the first things he did was to take a baseball bat and smash
every camera that Ms. Li had put up to smithereens, to the cheers of
students and faculty.

Then there was some unresolved issues concerning Tom and Trent, Jane’s
brother.  Tom had promised to see Daria during inter-semester break and
see how they were doing.  Although Daria had long written off Trent to
Monique a long time ago, the news she got from Jane just last week that
they were going to be married came as a shock to her.  Daria thought while
she was back in Lawndale it would be best to clear the air and admit that
she once had a crush on him--if only to ease her own conscience.

Traffic was finally beginning to pick up some speed.  Daria put the car
out of neutral and began to crawl at about 15 miles per hour.  At this
present speed, she’ll be at Lawndale and her parents’ house in about two
hours.

“Daria,” Jane said, “you’re racking up yours and my cell phone bills
here.”

Daria didn’t realize how long she remained silent.

“Listen, Jane,” Daria replied, “I’ll see you over at my house; hopefully
you’ll be there before me.”

Daria hung up and looked at the traffic stretched before her.

================================================================

It was about seven in the evening when Daria’s car finally pulled into the
driveway of 1111 Glen Oak Drive.  Her back seat had all the Christmas
presents she had picked up before she had left for home; her luggage was
in the trunk.  She’d get to those later.  Right now it was best that she
establish the fact that she made it back home.

It was really too cold for Daria to wear her usual get-up, so she was
wearing a green sweater and blue jeans along with a green coat and green
earmuffs.  Daria got out of the car and rang the doorbell.  It was
answered by Jane, who herself was wearing a red sweater and black jeans.

“Glad you could make it before the Donner Party could feast on you,” the
artist extraordinare and pizza fiend said to her kemosabe, putting on her
evil smirk to boot.

“I seriously doubt that, Jane,” Daria wryly began in way of reply; “there
isn’t too much meat on me.”

All Jane could say to that was “Touchè.”

Daria now stepped inside.  The place was all done up for the holidays with
the usual decorated tree and red-and-green streamers.  Jake was busy
watching something on TV, but as to what, she wasn’t too sure at the
moment.  She now stepped inside and saw a man weighing some bananas on a
scale, only to have a British police officer approach him and arrest him.
The announcer frantically intoned:

“He was only trying to sell bananas, but he was arrested for selling them
by the pound instead of the kilogram!  Has "1984"’s Big Brother finally
arrived in the form of the European Union?  The man who sold illegal
bananas, next on 'Sick, Sad World!'”

If it weren’t for the fact that this was actually happening, it could have
looked like a sketch right out of "Monty Python’s Flying Circus".

“Dad,” Daria began, “when did you begin watching 'Sick, Sad World'?”

Jake turned around, surprised to see that his oldest daughter finally made
it.  He hastily grabbed the remote control and turned off the TV.

“Hey, kiddo!,” Jake answered, “I wasn’t really paying attention to the
TV.”

“Uh-huh,” Daria replied, not exactly believing Jake’s alibi.

“Anyhow,” Jake continued, “We were a bit concerned that you weren’t going
to make it with this snow storm going.  Mom’s made up your favorite
dinner--frozen lasagna!”

It seems even on this festive occasion Helen just couldn’t be bothered to
cook a decent meal.  Somehow, Daria thought, Helen was nothing more than
Peg Bundy from "Married. . .with Children" in a business suit.

Speaking of which, Helen finally stepped into the room, still wearing
oven mitts from taking the lasagna out of the microwave.

“Oh, Daria, you made it,” Helen began.  “You’re just in time for dinner.”

Just then, the doorbell rang.  Daria went to get it, and when she opened
it, Quinn arrived with Jeffy, Jamie and Joey in tow.

“You invited all three of them over for dinner, Quinn?,” Daria stated in
her usual monotone; it just didn’t surprise her that Quinn still had some
of her old ways about her.

“Well, Daria,” Quinn replied, “I couldn’t turn them all down, could I?
It’s the season, you know.”

Daria just rolled her eyes and headed into the kitchen.

“I’m glad to see there’s still never a dull moment in this place,” Jane
added as a retort.

================================================================

Since there was a considerable crowd for dinner, everyone was eating in
the dining room instead of the table just off the kitchen.  Daria was
seated next to Quinn at the end of the table where Jake was, with Jane on
the opposite side of her.

“So, Jane,” Jake began to strike up a conversation, “Daria’s told me that
you’ve met a great new guy!”

Jane shot a look at Daria and said in a half-kidding tone “I hate you.”

“Just think of it as payback for all the times you did that to me, Lane,”
replied Daria, now putting on her trademark Mona Lisa smile.

Realizing that there was no way out of this but through, Jane held her
ground as best she could.  “Well,” she began, “Mike Naismith is a very
interesting person.  He’s not pretentious like Tom was.”

“And we should be thankful that we now have separate boyfriends,” Daria
added.

“Daria, Jane,” Helen asked, “I certainly hope neither of you hold any
bitterness about Tom.”

“Other than the posters we’ve put up at the post office proclaiming a
million dollar reward for his capture dead or alive,” Daria shot back,
“we’ve gotten over him.”

Helen was left nonplused at her oldest daughter’s remarks.

“So, Quinn,” Jake began to say as a way to change the subject, “how’s
things with the Fashion Club?”

“Oh, they’re going pretty well, Dad,” Quinn answered.  “I think taking the
summer off from our activities has put things in better perspective for
us.  We’re even thinking about making Lindy an honorary member.”

“Quinn,” Helen asked out of concern, “aren’t you a bit concerned about
Lindy’s drinking habits?”

“But, Mom,” Quinn began to whine, “Lindy’s told me herself she’s
gotten it under control now!  She’s even got a new job at a
bookstore!”

“And your Fashion Mob friends are still considering making her an
honorary member?,” Daria inquired.  “Just a year ago, anyone who held any
kind of job--nevermind a job at a bookstore--the Fashion Club wouldn’t
give the time of day to.”

“Daria,” Quinn shot back, “Lindy’s told me she cleaned up her act after
she got busted for DWI during the summer.  She has to go to AA meetings
and go see her probation officer for her weekly tests so she can get her
license back.  She told me that this is going to be the end of it.”

“Just like Hitler told Chamberlin that he wouldn’t add more territory to
Germany after he took over the Sudetenland?,” Daria offered as a riposte.

Helen sighed, then told Daria, “You really have to give people more credit
that you’re willing to give them, Daria.  Maybe Quinn is right about Lindy
changing.”

“Mom,” Daria said, “Just a moment ago you were doubting that Lindy had
changed.”

Jane smirked at Daria, knowing that she had scored a big point in exposing
Helen’s contradicting herself.

Jamie raised his hand.

“Yes, Jamie?,” Helen asked.

“Uh, Mrs. Morgendorffer,” Jamie began to speak, “could Quinn, Jeffy, Joey
and I be excused?  This conversation’s really beginning to baffle us.”

“But you haven’t even finished your lasagna,” Helen stated.

“We lost our appetite,” said Jeffy.

Daria turned to Jane and said, “I wouldn’t blame them after hearing this
strange turn in the conversation.”

Helen sighed out of exasperation and said “All right, I guess you can be
excused.”

Quinn and the three J’s left the dining room.

“So,” Daria broke the silence, “what else has Quinn been up to?”

“She did mention something about having a Christmas Eve party at Lindy’s
place,” Jake said.  “It was just going to be herself, Lindy, and the
Fashion Club.”

“I just hope Lindy doesn’t spike the punch,” was all that Daria had to
say.

Helen shot an incredulous look at Daria.

“I wouldn’t put it past her if she did,” Jane was quick to defend her
partner in crime.

“Well, I am not going to let them just go to this party unsupervised,”
Helen said.  “I plan to have Marianne over there as a chaperone, just to
make sure that Lindy doesn’t pull anything like that.”

“Ah, the convenience of parenting by proxy,” Daria said.

Helen just rolled her eyes and left the room, stating “I think I better
get the dessert.”

Jane high-fived Daria.

================================================================

When Daria entered her old room, it was to a rather stunning shock.

Helen had finally carried out on her promise to redecorate the room--now
that Daria wasn’t living in it anymore.  Gone were the padding on the
walls and the bars on the windows, not to mention the exercise bar.

“I guess it didn’t take long for the looters to strip the place clean
after they closed it for good,” Daria mumbled to herself as she now put
her luggage on the bed and went to the closet to put her gifts in.  She
noticed that the violent poetry that the crazy aunt who had previously
occupied the premises had written in the closet walls had been painted
over.  “Then again,” she continued, “they could have plastered a corporate
name on it like they do to stadiai and arenas these days.”

Daria was now beginning to unpack when she heard a knock on the door
frame.  She turned around and saw Jane standing there.

“Care to shoot the bull here in the old stomping grounds?,” Jane asked.

“Just close the door behind you,” Daria answered, even as she began to
take things out of her valise.

“Remember when I told you that the day I moved into my dorm room was the
day I was going to lose my virginity?,” Jane began.

“Oh, yes, now I remember,” Daria answered.  “It was just shortly before
my aborted attempt to lose mine to Tom.”

“Well, I did it,” Jane shot back.  She now took out what looked like a
keychain from her pants pocket, and it seemed that a torn condom wrapper
was embedded in some plastic.  “I made it myself.”

“You actually saved the wrapper from your first time?,” Daria said in a
tone of half-disgust.

“Hey, Mike thought it would make for a great momento,” Jane added.

“You did it with Mike?,” Daria rasped in shock.

“We met in sculpting class,” Jane started, “and things just went from
there.  Next thing we knew we were doing the wild thing in my bed.”

“And here I was thinking all this time that it was only men who bragged,”
Daria mumbled.

“Methinks you haven’t been watching 'Sex in the City',” Jane stated with
her trademark evil smirk.  Just to change the subject, she asked, “So, do
you have any idea when you and Tom are supposed to get together and
compare notes about your first semesters like you said you would?”

“Haven’t heard a damn thing,” Daria replied.

“For what it’s worth,” Jane answered, “Mystik Spiral’s going to be having
a concert at the Zen tomorrow night.  This might be your chance to finally
tell him what you’ve been meaning to tell him before he gets married to
Monique.”

“There’s only one problem,” Daria said.

Jane asked, “And that is?”

“What if I make a big fool out of myself telling Trent all this?,” Daria
replied.

Jane then shot back, “It wouldn’t be the first time you did.”

Now it was Daria’s turn to admit “Touchè.”

“Just be there at eight tomorrow night,” Jane now stated.  “He’ll be
waiting.”

“Just one thing,” Daria replied.

“Sure,” Jane said “what?”

“If I do begin to make a fool out of myself,” Daria asked, “extricate me
from this mess before I go down that slippery slope.”

“Don’t worry, kemosabe,” Jane assured her friend, “I won’t let you suffer
any ‘Domino Effect.’”

================================================================

The next morning, Daria awoke to the sound of her cell phone ringing.
Rubbing her eyes, she picked up the phone.

“Hey, Daria,” the voice at the other end began to speak, “It’s me, Tom.”

Daria took a look at the clock and noted the time.  “Tom,” Daria was
saying in a groggy, half-awake tone of voice, “It’s five o’clock in the
morning.”

“I didn’t get in until late due to that snow storm,” Tom answered; “not
only that, I left Bromwell pretty late.”

Daria muttered to herself, “It figures.”

“Anyhow,” Tom continued, “I didn’t forget what we promised.  How about if
you and I meet at Chez Pierre on Christmas Eve night at seven?”

“I promised Mom and Dad that I’d drive Quinn over to Lindy’s for her big
party she and her Fashion Club friends are having,” Daria replied, still
groggy.

“You could meet me there after you drop her off,” Tom said.  “Just be sure
to wear your best; that outfit you usually wear just won’t cut it over
there.”

“Well, unlike you,” Daria was really beginning to sound annoyed over this,
“I don’t get a big allowance to buy clothes that were just modeled at
Paris.”

“Just try to dig up something nice at Cashman’s,” Tom said.  “It doesn’t
have to be something fancy like you were going to a prom.”

“May I remind you that I didn’t go to my prom?,” Daria said.

“Oh, I forgot,” Tom stated apologetically.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Daria answered.  “Right now, I want to get at
least two more hours of sleep.”

“Sure thing,” Tom said.  “See you at Chez Pierre on Christmas Eve at
seven.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Daria said, then hung up.  Before she went back to
sleep, she mumbled, “Jerk.”

================================================================

The Zen was hopping as usual.  Mystik Spiral had just taken the stage.
Trent Lane was in his usual position as lead singer and lead guitarist,
with Jesse Moreno at rhythm guitar, Nicholas Campbell at bass and Max
Tyler at drums.  Daria and Jane were in the crowd, just like the good old
days.

“Hello, everyone,” Trent began to rasp.  “Welcome to the Zen.  We’re
Mystik Spiral, but we’re thinking about changing the name.”

“At least some things haven’t changed,” Daria said to Jane.

Trent continued:  “I’m Trent Lane, along with Jesse Moreno, Nicholas
Campbell and Max Tyler.  I want to direct your attention to the back area,
where my little sister Janey is here on inter-semester break from Boston
Fine Arts College.”

The crowd turned around and applauded.  Jane admittedly was blushing a
bit.

“Better you than me,” Daria said, noticing Jane’s blushing.

“Also here with her,” Trent added, “is her friend Daria Morgendorffer,
who’s also on break from Raft University.”

The crowd clapped again.  Now it was Daria’s turn to blush.

“You were saying, Morgendorffer?,” Jane shot back, adding that infamous
evil smirk for good measure.

“And now,” Trent concluded, “let’s get this concert going with ‘Every Dog
Has Its Day!’”

Mystik Spiral now launched into the song.

“After the concert’s over,” Jane said, “you can speak to Trent.”

“Roger, wilco and out,” was all Daria said to that.

================================================================

The concert wrapped up a couple of hours later.  Daria and Jane were now
in the backstage dressing room, hanging out with Mystik Spiral.

“At least we don’t have to worry about groupies,” Trent said, adding his
infamous cough-laugh to the remark.

“Ha, ha,” Daria added in her usual monotone.

“Anyhow, Daria,” Trent began, “Janey said you had something to tell me.”

Daria now realized that this was now or never.

“Well, Trent,” Daria started out, “I don’t know where to even begin.”

“Just take your time, Daria,” Jane encouraged her.

“Trent,” Daria spoke, “I always valued you as a friend.”

“I always have myself,” Trent replied.

“The thing is,” Daria continued, “shortly after I moved into Lawndale and
met you and Jane, I admit I had developed a crush on you.”

“When did it begin?,” Trent asked.

“I think it began when you drove Jane and I to Brittany’s party,” Daria
stated.  “Then, of course, there was our ill-fated trip to see
Alternapalooza.”

“Yeah,” Trent said, “that’s when the Tank broke down and you had to pee in
the bushes.”

“That part I’d rather soon forget,” Daria cut him off.

“Oh, yeah,” Trent smartened up a little.

“Of course there was the time we went to Dega Street to get Jane a
birthday gift, and I wound up getting my belly button pierced.”

“That’s when you met Monique,” Trent added.

“Which led to when you and Jane stayed over at my place when the rest of
your wandering family paid a visit to your house, and I saw you and
Monique going out together,” Daria continued.  “Not to mention that you
forgot to create some music for my English class project.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Trent admitted.

“Ever since--especially after I broke up with Tom--”, Daria continued.

Trent was a bit surprised.  “You broke up with Tom?”

Daria was surprised that Trent had first heard of this.  “Didn’t Jane
tell you?”

“I was probably busy rehearsing, or sleeping, or whatever,” Trent
admitted.

“Anyhow,” Daria continued, “Ever since Tom and I broke up, I felt that I
should try to tie up some loose ends with you before your wedding.”

“Funny,” Trent said, “I thought you and Tom were a pretty good couple.”

“So did I,” Daria said, “until he got accepted into Bromwell University
due to his family connections and I had to settle for Raft.”

“Damn,” Trent said, “that would kind of let the air out of the tires now,
wouldn’t it?”

“Trent,” Daria continued, “I do want to thank you for maintaining your
friendship with me, even after things got messy between Tom, Jane and me.
I’ll even forgive you for singing ‘Betrayal’ while you were driving me up
to the artists’ colony to see Jane that summer.”

“Which--given my experiences with Allison--couldn’t have come at a better
time, I might add,” Jane said to back up her friend.

“Daria,” Trent said, “for what its worth, I always thought you were a
cool person.  Thanks for admitting how you feel about me, but you didn’t
have to unburden your conscience like this.”

“But I wanted to,” Daria replied.  “I don’t think I would have forgiven
myself if I didn’t tell you all this before you got married.”

“Thanks all the same, though,” Trent said.  “I think I can understand
the reasoning behind why you wanted to do this.”

“That’s all I ask for, Trent,” Daria concluded.

“Say, Daria,” Trent asked, “weren’t you going to see Tom in a couple of
days?”

“Yes,” Daria answered.

“Tell him I said ‘Yo!’ for me, OK?,” Trent replied.

“If I don’t,” Daria said in a half-kidding tone of voice, “you can paint
my tongue black.”

Trent now cracked his famed sleepy smile, which Daria reciprocated with
her Mona Lisa smile.

================================================================

Back at Morgendorffer Home Base, another meeting of the Fashion Club was
in full swing in Quinn’s room.  Quinn was lounging on the bed, while
Sandi Griffin, Stacy Rowe and Tiffany Blum-Deckler were sitting
Indian-style on the floor.

"So," Sandi began saying in her deep, stuck-up voice, "In two days, we'll
be going over to Quinn's friend Lindy's for our Christmas Eve party.
We've got to decide what we're going to be wearing for the occasion."

Stacy shot up her hand.

"Yes, Stacy?," Sandi asked.

"It would seem that Lindy's the casual type," Stacy remarked; "I don't
think we'd need to wear something fancy."

"Could we wear. . .something in the colors of the season?," Tiffany added.

Sandi dismissed that idea:  "Two primary colors like that together?
Whoever thought of that idea should have been shot."

Quinn now made her own suggestion:  "We could wear some nice
sweaters--in light versions of red and green."

"The sweater idea sounds fine to me," Sandi said, "but let's just wear
something in our favorite colors.  I still think green and red together
are so gauche."

The door to the hallway was open, so that Quinn heard it when the familiar
tromping of Daria and Jane's boots could be heard going up the stairs and
past her room.  Quinn grimaced at the thought that those two could be
priming themselves for another major put-down of herself and her friends.

Daria and Jane now paused at the door.

"You know," Jane said, "for one brief, shining moment during that
graduation party when the Fashion Club announced that they were breaking
up, people like me actually thought the world was changing for the
better."

"Unfortunately," Daria added, "they then immediately announced that they
were going to meet the next day to discuss how to use their new free time.
The next thing you knew, the Fashion Club was back in business."

"Luckily for us we're usually in Boston now," Jane retorted; "they're the
problem of whoever succeeded us as 'The Misery Chick' and 'The Moody
Artist' over there now."

The two ladies now walked to Daria's room, leaving Quinn and the Fashion
Club--who were watching this--in a state of shock.

"Quinn," Sandi now broke the silence, "were you really telling us the
truth that day when Daria was substituting for Mr. O'Neill during the
teachers' strike that she is your sister?"

"And don't say that you were kidding," added Tiffany; "we saw how you
grimaced when you put on those sunglasses and ball cap when she made her
acceptance speech when she won the Dianne Fossey Award."

Quinn realized that she was cornered.

"Uh," Quinn finally began to say, "I think I left the water running in the
bathroom sink!"  With that she dashed out of the room.

Sandi just had to put on a self-satisfied smirk on her face in triumph.

================================================================

The next day Daria--totally against her will--was at Cashman's, trying
to pick up something to wear to Chez Pierre for her planned rendezvous
with Tom the following night.  Jane was there to lend some moral support.

"Are you going to be wearing the old boots with the dress?," Jane asked.

"Mom said I have to pick out some high heels to go with it," Daria said
with a grimace on her face.  "After hearing that remark, Quinn said she'd
help me master walking in them."

"I guess you couldn't get away with wearing the boots like you did at the
wedding and at graduation," Jane replied.

"Hell, we were wearing our normal street clothes beneath our gowns,"
Daria added.

"How do you plan to pay for this?," Jane wanted to know.

"Strictly cash on the barrelhead," Daria answered.  "Do you realize how
many of those junk mail letters I get pestering me to sing up for a credit
card?"

"I chuck those right into the circular file," Jane added.  "I take it
you're going to have to dip heavily into the Montana Cabin Fund for this?"

Daria now produced a small manila envelope.  "I took out a substantial
amount before I left," she said.

"Given how dorms are magnets for crime," Jane asked, "how do you keep it
safe?"

"Remember that guy in 'Papillion'?," Daria replied.

"You really don't--" Jane began to say, but then Daria gagged her mouth.

"I was only kidding, Lane," Daria added in an annoyed tone of voice.

Well," Jane added, "if it were true, you would be the only person with a
million-dollar butt."

Daria shot a hostile glance at her partner in crime.

"If you really want to know the truth," Daria said, "I have it in the
last place a crook would even think of getting it."

"Where in a dorm would you hide it?," Jane asked.

"I finally broke down and opened an account at a nearby bank," Daria
admitted as much.  "However, just to keep up appearances, I do write the
occasional 'send money' note to the folks.  Not that I really need it, of
course."

"Keeping up appearances--you know, that could make for a good title for a
sticom," Jane added.

"It's been done," Daria shot back.

Daria now found a dark green dress and some matching high heels that
seemed to go together well.  She went to the cashier and paid for the
merchandise, then she and Jane went on their way.

================================================================

Jane was at the living room of the Morgendorffers, along with the rest of
the Morgendorffer posse.  Jake was watching TV while Helen was on the
phone with her boss Eric Schreter.  It seems now that she was a partner,
she was on the phone more than ever with him.  Quinn was on her own cell
phone as a consequence, trying to finalize things with Lindy for
tomorrow's Christmas Eve party.

"Just how long does it take for a woman to get into a simple dress?,"
Jake wanted to know.

"This coming from the man who sometimes is halfway to his consulting
firm when he realizes that he didn't put on any pants," Jane shot back.

Just then, the familiar footfalls of Daria's boots could be heard.  Daria
was wearing the dress she had picked out for tomorrow.  It was a bit
clingy, revealing her bust.  Quinn remembered the last time she saw
Daria's bust was when she dressed up in her old smiley-face T-shirt and
flared jeans as her shock treatment to snap her out of her
pseudo-intellectual phase she was going through.  Quinn was mortified,
however, that she decided to wear the boots.

"I'll talk to you later, Lindy," Quinn now rasped, "fashion emergency.
Bye."  She hung up the phone and went to Daria.  "Daria," she said, "those
boots just wont' cut it.  Where are those shoes?"

"In my room," Daria said, "where they belong.  I just can't seem to
master them."

"Daria," Quinn stated, "wearing high heels is like riding a bicycle:  once
you learn it, you don't forget.  Come on, I'm going to grab them and we'll
go over how to wear them."

Daria sighed as her kid sister ran upstairs like a bullet to get the high
heels.

"Hey, kiddo," Jake began to say, "you look great in that dress!  I didn't
realize that you were that well developed, though."

"And when she grows up," Jane added, "she'll be as well-developed a
superhero as Wonder Woman."

Daria stared daggers at Jane, who let out her evil smirk in response.

"Any more references to the shape of my body--or lack thereof--will result
in someone getting a bloody nose around here," Daria stated in a
half-menacing tone.

"Hey, chill out," Jane answered, "it was just a joke."

Before Daria could respond to that, Quinn came back down with the high
heels.

"Here we are, Daria," Quinn said.  "Now take off those boots and slip
these on.  By the way, I brought down some taupe pantyhose for you; they
should go well with the dress."

Daria sighed and decided to duck into the downstairs bathroom so she could
humor Quinn by putting everything on.

"You know," Jake resumed, "maybe Daria and Tom will patch things up
tomorrow."

"Forgot that Frank was coming over tomorrow himself, didn't you, Jake?,"
Jane replied.

Jake shot back with his usual "Dammit!"

Daria now re-emerged from the bathroom, wearing the pantyhose and having
the boots off.  She had the boots in one hand and the high heels in the
other.

"All right," Daria said to Quinn, "let's get this over with."

Quinn pointed to the couch, which Daria sat down on.  Quinn then proceeded
to put on the high heels.  "Just remember to point your toes downward,"
she said.

Daria grimaced as the heels were put on her.

"OK, now see if you can stand up," Quinn said.

Daria slowly got up, then realized that she was losing her balance.  Quinn
steadied her.

"All right, Daria," Quinn continued, "the trick to walking in high heels
is to put your heel down first, then the toe."

"I feel like I'm wearing the Petronas Towers on my feet," Daria said,
having the sensation that she was on stilts a couple of thousand feet
high.

"Now, when I let go," Quinn said, "walk like I just told you."  She now
let got of Daria, who managed to avoid falling down.  She now raised her
right foot, toes first, then put it down heel first, then the toes.  She
did the same thing with the left foot, the repeated the procedure with the
right foot.

"That's it," Quinn said, "I think you're getting the hang of it."

"Oh, dear," Jane said in her smirking tones, "our little girl is growing
up to a fine young woman!"

"You want me to rip your vocal cords out, Lane?," Daria shot back.

Daria, however, was indeed getting the hang of walking in high heels.

"I think Tom's going to be very impressed with you," Quinn said.

"Really?," Daria asked.

"Daria," Quinn now began to say, "these are going to be some very exciting
times for you.  I've heard about some of the people you've met over at
college and it seems you're fitting in pretty well.  The next four years
are probably going to be the best in your life.  Just remember to value
them very well."

Somehow that struck a chord with Daria.  She had indeed been doing
rather well for herself in college.   That Mona Lisa smile crept back on
her face.

================================================================

It was Christmas Eve morning, around ten o'clock.  A red Honda Civic was
seen pulling into the driveway of Morgendorffer Home Base.  A man now got
out and pulled his suitcase out of the trunk.  He sported black hair,
brown eyes and glasses that were a bit oversized, along with a brown
sweater and blue jeans.  He went up to the door and rang the doorbell.
Daria answered it; she had been asleep and was still clad in her usual
nightwear of blue T-shirt and yellow shorts and wasn't wearing her
glasses.

"Geeze, did I wake you?," the man asked her.

Daria rubbed her eyes, then saw who it was.  "Frank?  I thought you were
going to be here later this afternoon."

"I managed to avoid the worst of the traffic by taking some back roads,"
Frank admitted.  "Besides, I finally get a chance to meet your folks."

"Of course," Daria now half-remembered.  She now let Frank in.  "Of
course, Mom and Dad are at work, and Quinn's at the mall with her
Fashion Mob fiends doing some last-minute Christmas shopping."

"Nice place you have here," Frank admitted.

"Of course you came too late to see my room in all its glory," Daria
replied; "Mom carried out her promise to redecorate it."

"That's just as bad as tearing down the old Boston Garden and replacing it
with Fleet Center," Frank droned.

"My sentiments exactly," Daria added.

Frank put his suitcase at the foot of the stairs, then headed to the
kitchen.  "I hope you don't mind if I make some coffee," he said.

"Knock yourself out," was Daria's reply.

Frank got out some instant coffee (Helen was in such a rush these days
that she didn't even bother to brew coffee; it was always the instant
stuff), spooned out some in a mug, then got a microwave-safe liquid
measuring cup out, filled it to the brim with water, and put it in the
microwave for three minutes.  Frank then spooned out some sugar and got
out the half-and-half from the refrigerator.

"So," Frank asked, "what are your plans for tonight?"

"Remember that Tom Sloane guy I was telling you about?," Daria said.

"Yeah?," inquired Frank.

"I'm supposed to meet him over at Chez Pierre tonight," Daria continued.
"We're supposed to compare notes about how our first semesters went."

"Daria,"--Frank had to get this off his chest--"from what you told me of
Tom, he's a million-dollar jerk you shouldn't give the time of day to.
He nearly wrecked the friendship you and Jane have."

"Maybe," Daria said, "but I assure you right now that if he tries to say
that we should patch things up and give everything a second chance, I'm
not going to buy into that."

"Good for you," Frank said as he heard the beeping of the microwave
indicating that his water was ready.

"Not only that," Daria continued, "I have to drive Quinn over to her
friend Lindy's where she and those fashionistas she hangs out with can
have their holiday party."

"Isn't Lindy the one who's got the drinking problem?," Frank asked.

"The one and the same," Daria replied.  "I'm just worried that one of
these days Lindy's going to get into some trouble, and that Quinn's going
to get involved in it one way or the other."

"Haven't you told Quinn about your concerns?," Frank wanted to know.

"I tried," Daria commented, "but she seems to have bought it that Lindy's
on the upswing."

Frank frowned upon hearing that.  "Daria, you know damn well how I feel
about alcoholism since my great-grandfather died last month when that
drunk driver plowed into him," he said; "we were planning on going to see
the final weekend of the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake and see the gold
medal game in men's ice hockey.  Now I've got to sell those tickets
because I can't afford to go by myself.  My great-grandfather had to pay
a lot of money from his retirement savings so we could go."

Daria was taken aback by what Frank said.

Frank realized this and continued:  "I'm sorry, Daria.  It's just I wish
that creep who did this got a lot worse than what he got.  He got a
slick attorney to plea bargain it down to speeding."

"He would have gotten a lot worse if it happened in this state," Daria
replied.

"Now that bum will just get away with a $500 fine and three points on his
license," Frank stated.

"In my line of work," Daria conceded, "you quickly realize that life plays
dirty pool."

Frank nodded in agreement as he finished his coffee.

"Listen, just be careful tonight, OK?," Frank said.

"Why should I be worried?," Daria asked.

"Sometimes I just get bad feelings in the pit of my stomach, that's all,"
Frank concluded.

Daria looked at Frank puzzledly.

"Tom so far has been the perfect gentleman," Daria said.  "Furthermore,
he doesn't seem to be the bum Trent is at times."

"You don't have to be poor to be a bum," Frank was quick to add.

Daria just looked at Frank funny.

================================================================

It was going on six-thirty in the evening.  Daria was all dressed for her
dinner date with Tom.  She was looking at her watch as she sat next to
Jake, who was watching the evening news.

"When is Quinn going to be ready for her party?," Daria finally asked.

Just then, Quinn finally bounded down the stairs.  She was wearing a pink
sweater and lime green capri pants.

"It's about time," Daria shot at her sister.

"Daria," Quinn began to answer, "it takes time to perfect the perfect l
ook.  I just don't throw any old thing on like you do."

"I just hope you and Quinn have fun tonight, kiddo," Jake chimed in.

Helen now entered the room.

"Any time you expect me back by?," Quinn asked Helen.

"I would expect you back by midnight," Helen said.  "You do have your
cell phones with you, don't you, Daria, Quinn?"

Daria calmly produced a cell phone from a green purse Quinn decided to
loan her, while Quinn produced hers from her white purse.

"Good," Helen said in a relieved tone of voice.

"We might as well hit the road, Quinn," Daria finally said.  "I'll just
barely have time enough to drop you off at Lindy's and make it to Chez
Pierre."

Frank now entered the room, having come downstairs from the guest room.

"You're about to go?," Frank asked Daria.

"Yes, and still no word from the governor about a reprieve," Daria wryly
answered.

"Have fun tonight, and just be careful," Frank added.

"Don't worry," Daria said, producing a can of mace from the green purse,
"I'm loaded for bear."

"Daria," Helen said, "you know that stuff is illegal in this state!"

"Not in Massachusetts," Daria said; "you'd be surprised to find the things
you can find on sale in some of those back-street shops in Boston."

Helen just shook her head.  "I think Frank is right," she finally
conceded; "just be careful."

Daria and Quinn now took there leave.  "See you later," Daria said to Jake
and Helen.

"Have fun, kiddo!," Jake shouted back.

Frank had a worried look on his face when Daria closed the door behind
her.

================================================================

Things were beginning to get going at Lindy's house when Quinn arrived.
She saw that Sandi had chosen to wear a green sweater and brown pants,
while Stacy was wearing a brown sweater and red pants, while Tiffany was
wearing a light blue sweater dress and light blue thermal pantyhose.
Lindy was wearing a simple white blouse and jeans.

"Glad you could make it to the party," Lindy said.

"Now, remember what you promised me," Quinn said, "there isn't a drop of
alcohol in the house, is there?"

"Not a single drop," Lindy replied, raising her hand in an oath.

"Good," Quinn said.  "Daria really got on my case on the ride up here
about making sure you weren't going to spike the punch or anything like
that."

"Why do you have to listen to her?," Lindy wanted to know.  "She doesn't
live with you anymore."

"Well," Quinn said, "she might be a pain-in-the-neck sister, but she does
mean well."

"Like, come on already," Sandi began to get impatient; "let's get this
party on the road.

Lindy heeded the call and put on a Pink CD in the player.  "None of those
staid old carols for this party," she added in a teasing voice.

"Like, Quinn here had the bare midriff thing going for her before Pink
did," Sandi added.  She now produced a picture taken of Quinn back from
her sophomore year and showed it to Lindy.

"Oh," Lindy said; "crafty little one, weren't you?"

Quinn blushed.

Lindy now realized something.  "Hey, I forgot to get the punch out!," she
stated.  She now ran into the kitchen and took out a bowl of punch, along
with a bottle of vodka.

"As far as this little baby's concerned," Lindy said as she patted the
vodka bottle, "I won't slip in until some time from now.  They won't
suspect a thing until it's too late."

================================================================

Daria now arrived just at time for her dinner date with Tom at Chez
Pierre.  After the valet took care of parking her car, Tom arrived in a
taxi.

"Hey, where's your car?," Daria had to ask.

"It went the way of all the cars I get as hand-me-downs," Tom began to
say; "it bought the farm."

Daria now saw that Tom was wearing a tuxedo for the occasion.  This wasn't
one of those cheaply made rentals made for the prom; this was something
that screamed "I bought this and I wear it on a regular basis."

Daria continued:  "I almost didn't make it because Quinn was deciding up
until the last minute what to wear to the party she went to at Lindy's with 
her
Fashion Club ganstas."

"Still the same old Quinn, I take it," Tom chuckled.

Tom now led Daria into restaurant.  He approached the podium where the
maitre'd kept his reservations register.

"Ah, Sloane, party of two, I take it?," the maitre'd asked in his phony
French accent.

"'Oui,'" Tom replied as he craftily dug a folded $20 bill out of his
jacket pocket and deftly slipped it into the maitre'd's hand.

"I think the best table in the house is all ready for you," the maitre'd
replied, pocketing the money.

After Tom seated Daria, he took his seat.

"So," Tom decided to cut to the chase, "how was your first semester?"

"Fine," Daria answered.  "I passed all my courses, if that's what
matters."

"How's dorm life treating you?," Tom now asked.

"My roommate is part-Quinn, part-Xaviera Hollander," Daria muttered.
"Most nights I'm not in my dorm because she's sleeping around with
someone."

"How's Jane doing?," added Tom quickly in order to cover up the
embarrassment Daria must be feeling right now.

"Jane's doing well over at BFAC," Daria answered.  "She met this nice guy
named Mike."

"What about you, Daria?," Tom had to ask.  "Any new guys on your horizon?"

"Well," Daria began to blush, "there's Frank."

"Oh," Tom asked as his curiosity got the better of him, "what's he like?"

"He's a very nice person," Daria replied, "and that's all I'm going to say
about him.  What about you?  Have you met someone new?"

"I really haven't," Tom confessed.

"Sorry to hear that," Daria answered.

A waiter now approached with the menus as Daria and Tom decided to peruse
them to find out what they wanted to eat.

================================================================

Back at Casa Lane, Trent was getting ready to go with his bandmates for a
Christmas Eve concert at the Zen.  Jane was hanging out in the living room
as Mystik Spiral were getting their gear together.

"So, expecting a big crowd tonight?," Jane asked Trent.

"Yeah," Trent replied.  "It should be really big.  We're planning on
debuting our new Christmas song tonight."

"What's it called?," Jane wanted to know.

"It's called 'It's Going to Be a Manic-Depressive Christmas Without You,'"
Trent stated.

"Catchy little title," Jane answered with her evil smirk.

"Anyhow, we'd better get going, or we're going to be late for the
concert," Trent noted.

Jesse, Nicholas and Max began to lug the gear outside toward the Tank.

"By the way," Jane asked, "when you're having the bachelor party?"

"We're going to have it next month, or February, or March, or whatever,"
Trent said; "we haven't decided yet."

"You'd better hurry because the wedding's in April," Jane said in a
half-teasing tone of voice.  "I'm supposed to co-ordinate when Monique's
going to have her bridal shower."

"Man, I never did think I was going to marry her," Trent finally
admitted.  "I guess she'll stay with me for a while until I can get a
place to call our own."

"Just promise me you marriage will last longer than any of Wind's," Jane
now added, "and I'll be very happy for you."

Trent added his sleepy smile to that remark, then took off to join his
bandmates.

================================================================

The Christmas party was now in full swing at Lindy's place.  Lindy noticed
that the punch bowl was getting empty.

"Oh, dear," Lindy now said, "I'm going to have to whip up some more
punch.  I'm going to try something different now."

Lindy now took the bowl and disappeared into the kitchen.

"I have to admit that Lindy really knows how to throw a party," Sandi now
admitted.

"Yeah, she sure does, doesn't she?," Quinn responded.

"You know, Quinn," Sandi continued, "I guess I sort of misjudged you
over the years.  I guess spending the summer without the Fashion Club has
helped us put things into perspective."

"I just hope that we'll remain friends forever," Quinn said.

Back in the kitchen, Lindy was now making up a new batch of punch.  She
now tossed in a very liberal amount of vodka.

"Now the party will really take off," Lindy said with a sneer on her
face; she now returned with the punch bowl.  "I've got more punch ready
here!," she said.

Quinn and the others now got to the punch bowl and began to help
themselves to it.  Quinn took a sip and noticed something funny about the
taste.

"Lindy, this batch tastes rather funny," Quinn remarked.

"Oh, I just added some spice to it to zip it up a bit," Lindy replied.

Quinn apparently had bought it; she went back and had another cup, as did
the others.

================================================================

Daria and Tom were now enjoying their dinner.  Daria decided to try the
vischyoisse while Tom was having Medals de Bœf Béarnaise.

"Anyhow," Tom asked, "have you decided on a major yet?"

"I'm still undeclared," Daria admitted, "but I am leaning heavily towards
journalism."

"I've already settled on mine," Tom replied; "it's going to be business
administration."

"Uh-huh," Daria answered, looking like she wasn't paying too much
attention.

Daria now looked up at Tom.  She noticed for the first time that he
seemed--well--burned out.

"Tom," Daria asked, "are you all right?"

"Sure I am," Tom said defensively, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Because," Daria was thinking to herself, "you seem to look like someone
who was taking drugs."

Daria was hoping that she was wrong, of course, but her better half was
already thinking otherwise.

"After we finish dinner, do you care to take a ride with me?," Tom asked
Daria.

"Sure," Daria said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

"I figure this way I can tell you what's going on without everyone
listening in on us," Tom added.

Daria now suspected something was really up.  As to what, she wasn't too
sure at the moment.

================================================================

It was about nine o'clock when Helen heard the doorbell ringing.  She got
up and answered the door.  She saw Kay Sloane at the door.

"Why, Kay," Helen said in an air of genuine surprise, "this is an
unexpected surprise!  What brings you here?"

"I was planning on stopping here after my businesswomen's group
adjourned," Kay said, "but the meeting ran late, or I'd be here earlier
than this."

"What's going on?," Helen asked.

"It's about Tom," Kay now said in rather grave tones.  "He tried his best
to hide this from us, but we got this letter from Bromwell today."

Kay now handed a letter to Helen.  She gave it a quick perusal.

"What the--"  Helen began to say in a state of shock.

"It's true," Kay continued, "Tom's been expelled from Bromwell.  He
flunked everything.  Not only that, he apparently fell into a bad crowd
and began taking marijuana.  He got arrested a few times and never
bothered to tell us.  Apparently he listed some of his friends' parents
as people to contact in case he got arrested.  That and his dismal
academic record led to his expulsion."

"Have you discussed this with Tom?," Helen said.

"I haven't seen him all day," Kay admitted.  "He probably knew that the
letter was going to be here today and didn't want to be here when it
arrived at our house today."

"What would lead him to do this?," Helen wanted to know.

"I only wish I knew," Kay said, slowly shaking her head.

"We'd better go to Chez Pierre and tell Daria about this," Helen said.

"What's she doing there?," Kay wondered.

"She agreed to go to dinner with Tom over there," Helen now admitted.

"We'll go in my car," Kay now said, clearly taking charge of matters.

Helen now grabbed her coat and followed Kay to her car.

Frank--who was sitting on a nearby sofa--overheard all this and decided to
get Jake.

================================================================

Everyone at Lindy's party was passed out, lying on sofas and chairs.
Lindy spiking the punch apparently did the trick, or so Lindy was morbidly
thinking to herself.

"Man, my head's reeling," Quinn now whined.  "Are you sure you didn't
put alcohol in this, Lindy?"

"No, I swear to God," Lindy now said, once again raising her hand.

"God, I feel like Fluffy after she eats some of my foundation," Sandi now
moaned; "I feel like I want to throw up!"

"I feel the same way myself, Sandi," Stacy now squeaked.

"I. . .don't. . .feel. . .so. . .good. . .myself," Tiffany added to
complete the quartet or misery.

"I don't think we've had this much fun--or misery--ever," Sandi now
admitted.

"Yeah," Quinn now chimed in, "we certainly had some wild times."

"Remember when we all had nose jobs?," Stacy piped up.

"And they all collapsed on us," Sandi now groaned.

"Or the time we were. . .at Jim's Paintball Jungle?," Tiffany said.

"And I was left behind, no thanks to some people," Sandi grumbled.

"Or the time I was stood up at the Medieval Fair?," Stacy said.

"And what about the time I broke my ankle?," Sandi now said.  "That was
no fun."

"And then there was the time I made my birthday wish and you lost your
voice," Stacy now remembered.

"Let's not even go there, Stacy," Sandi remarked.

"Hey, it was an honest mistake," Quinn struggled to say, her speech
slurred by the effects of the alcohol.

"So, once again you're taking Stacy's side, aren't you, Quinn?," Sandi
now accusingly told Quinn.

"Sandi, you don't have to yell," Quinn rasped.

"You know," Sandi now began to muse, "I think I see a pattern forming
about the events of the past few years, and I think I know which
direction it's been pointing towards."

"Sandi, I think you're making a big deal about nothing," Quinn said.

"No, I think it's perfectly clear," Sandi continued.  "You just want to
overthrow me and take over the Fashion Club"  Sandi now flung a finger
of accusation at Quinn.

"Sandi, you've got it all wrong!," Quinn pleaded.

Sandi now got up and wagged her finger at Quinn.  "No, you've got it all
wrong!," she added for emphasis.

"Sandi, I don't have any plans to take over the Fashion Club!," Quinn now
practically shrieked.  "God, you're so paranoid!"

Somehow that last statement caused Sandi to snap.  She now formed a fist
and sent it crashing into Quinn's face.  Quinn now yelled in anger and got
on top of Sandi, sending the two of them crashing to the floor and
beating the stuffing out of each other.

"CATFIGHT!!!!!!!!!!  CATFIGHT!!!!!!!!!!," Stacy was now shirking at the
top of her lungs.

Quinn now managed to stagger herself up to a standing position, and
Sandi threw a punch that landed her into the kitchen.

"Man, look at them go!," Lindy now said.

Stacy and Tiffany now got up and ran toward the kitchen with Lindy.

Sandi now wrestled Quinn down on the kitchen floor.  They bumped up
against the table, jolting the empty vodka bottle to the floor with a
crash.

"Hey," Stacy now noticed, "what's that bottle of vodka doing there?"

"I just put a little in the punch to spice things up," Lindy now admitted.

Quinn and Sandi now got back up, but now Sandi sent a crashing right
blow to Quinn, flooring her.  Quinn didn't immediately get up.

"As far as I'm concerned," Sandi now said in threatening tones to Quinn,
"you're no longer a member of the Fashion Club!  Do you hear me, Quinn?
YOU'RE OUT OF THE FASHION CLUB--FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!"

Quinn now got up on a semi-erect position and began to cry.

"How could you do this?," Stacy said to Lindy.  "You gave Quinn your word
that you wouldn't have any alcohol tonight!"

"Aw, come on," Lindy said; "A little bit doesn't hurt!"

"But. . .you practically poured the whole bottle in there!," Tiffany now
remarked.

"Come on, " Lindy pleaded, "I'll make it up to you.  Why don't I drive you
all back home?"

"Lindy, you're in no condition to drive!," Stacy now blurted out.

"I agree with. . .Stacy," Tiffany added.

"Come on, Tiffany," Stacy said, "we're going to get out of here and call
a cab."

"Yeah, go ahead," Lindy now shouted at them, "run away like the little
bitches you are!"

Stacy deigned not to reply to that comment as she and Tiffany now stormed
out of the house.

"Listen, Quinn, Sandi," Lindy now said to them, "let me drive the both of
you home.  I'm sober enough to drive."

"Yeah," Sandi now said, "let her drive us home, Quinn."

"How can I trust you after what you did to us?," Quinn now shrieked.

Lindy now grabbed Quinn by her wrist and dragged her out of the kitchen,
with Sandi staggering behind.

"You're going to accept a ride from me whether you like it or not, you
hussy!," Lindy now roared.

================================================================

Daria's VW was now going down the Tri-State Freeway.  Tom suggested that
they stop by a rest area he knew was along the way.  The VW now pulled up
to the rest area.

"OK," Daria now wanted to know, "tell me what's going on?"

"Could you excuse me for a minute?," Tom asked; "I just got to use the
facilities."

Tom now stepped out of the VW and headed for the men's room.  Once
inside, he took a joint out of his pants pocket and began to smoke it.

"Something is definitely not right," Daria now said to herself.  She now
got out her cell phone and began to call Jane.

================================================================

Helen and Kay now entered Chez Pierre and confronted the maitre'd.

"Excuse me," Helen now asked him, "have you seen Tom Sloane and Daria
Morgendorffer around?"

"Madame," the maitre'd replied, "Monsieur Sloane and Madame Morgendorffer
left about half an hour ago."

"Do you know where they could have gone?," Kay demanded.

"I do not know, Madame," the maitre'd answered.

"Where could they have gone?," Helen said.

================================================================

Lindy's car was now going down the street.  However, in her drunken state
of mind, Lindy was weaving the car around.  Sandi was in the front, while
Quinn was lying down in the back.

"Do you have to weave around so much?," Sandi told Lindy; "I feel like I
want to throw up!"

"Just shut up," Lindy replied, "I'll get you back home soon."

"Lindy," Quinn said, "maybe you'd better let us out and we'll call a cab."

"And you pipe down yourself, Quinn!," Lindy roared; "I'll do the driving!
I can hold my liquor!"

Lindy had just turned her head back when she saw something dead ahead.
It was two headlight heading right at her.

"What the--?," Lindy said.

Sandi saw it and screamed.

Quinn got up to see what was going on, and the last thing she saw before
she blacked out was the bright headlights shining right in her eyes.

================================================================

Tom now got out of the men's room and headed back into Daria's VW.  Daria
didn't need to smell his breath to notice that the smell of marijuana
clung on him.

"Tom," Daria now wanted to know, "have you been using marijuana?"

"So what?," Tom said; "it's no big deal."

"Tom," Daria's tone of voice now got angry, "tell me what the hell's
going on here?"

"All right," Tom said, "I'll give you the straight dope.  Things have been
rotten for me since you dumped me on my ass."

"Oh, really?," Daria replied in a snide manner.

"All summer long I tried to call you or visit you, and your folks said you
didn't want to see me," Tom said.  "That really hurt me."

"I thought you were mature enough to realize you had to move on," Daria
said.  "I guess I was mistaken."

"Then, before I knew it," Tom said, "it was time to go to Bromwell.  I
fitted in pretty easy at first, but I knew I really missed you.  I tried
to go out with other women, but they weren't you.  That's when I decided
to hang out with some guys I became friends with and we decided to smoke
pot.  It helped me forget things.  Or so I thought."

"Right now, you're stoned," Daria said.  "I think I'm going to take you
home so you can sleep this off, then I'm going to talk to your parents
about getting you some help."

"Daria," Tom said, clearly showing the effects of the marijuana on him,
"can't you see you're the only thing that's made me happy in my entire
life?  We had a great thing going."

"I just realized something," Daria now retorted.  "You just like to use
people.  I'm beginning to think that you were just using Jane to get to
me.  You just relished it when Jane and I were fighting over you."

"But you were the one who kissed me, dammit!," Tom now roared.  "Who was
trying to steal whom here?"

"I didn't steal anyone," Daria shot back; "if I remember correctly, Jane
dumped you and she said I could have you."

"All right, you want the truth?," Tom shrieked.  "I'll tell you the truth!
I was using Jane to get to you!  And you want to know who first told me
about the two of you?  It was Charles Ruttheimer III, that's who!"

"Upchuck?  My god!," Daria said; "that man has nothing but lothario
antics up his sleeves and in his shorts!"

"Believe it or not, both Charles' father and mine go to the same country
club," Tom continued with his amazing confession.  "We were both caddying
for them when we met, and he told me all about you and Jane."

"This is so unreal," Daria now admitted.

"But that's not all of it," Tom now continued in his tone of bravado.  "I
got busted a few times for doing pot.  My grades began to slip.  I
eventually failed all my classes at Bromwell and I got expelled.  All this
because you dumped me because you were so hell-bent on going to Raft!"

"Now this is all my fault?," Daria now yelled.  "Thomas Sloane, I was
right the first time!  You are a grade A jerk!  Get out of this car right
now!"

"I'm not going anywhere until I get what I came for," Tom now roared.
"We had some unfinished business if I remember correctly."

"What do you mean?," Daria asked.

"You stood me up when we were going to sleep together, that's what," Tom
now said as he now grabbed Daria roughly.

"Tom, you're hurting me!," Daria shrieked.

Tom didn't pay attention as he now ripped the top of Daria's dress,
revealing her bra.

"Now it's time to consummate our relationship!," Tom yelled.

"No, Tom, oh, God, no!," Daria was saying in a panic.

Tom now began to French kiss Daria.  Daria was struggling to disengage
herself from him.  Suddenly, she managed to jerk one of her feet loose
and managed to kick Tom in the testicles.  Daria now bolted out of the
car, just as Jane was arriving in Trent's blue Plymouth Fury.

Tom now got out of the VW and began to run toward Daria.  "Come back
here, you bitch!," he yelled.

Jane now knew it was now or never, so she ran up to Tom and punched
him with all her might in the breadbasket, then landed another blow on top
of his head, dropping him to the ground.

Just as that happened, a Lawndale County Sheriff's Department cruiser
pulled up.

"I hope you didn't mind that I called them," Jane said as she now
approached Daria, who was in a state of shock.

The sheriff's deputy now exited out of the car and approached Daria.
"Are you Daria Morgendorffer?," he asked.

Daria slowly nodded.  "He tried to rape me," she said, pointing a finger
at Tom.

A second deputy now stepped out of the car.  "Book him for attempted
rape," the first deputy now ordered his partner.

The second deputy now approached Tom.  "Thomas Sloane," he said as he
slapped the cuffs on him, "you're under arrest for attempted rape."

"You might as well add drug possession charges as well," Daria said;
"there might be a joint in his jacket pocket."

The second deputy made a quick frisk and found several joints.  He then
added drug possession to the charges and began the Miranda warnings.

Jane now went up to Daria, who now hugged her, just like the time she
hugged her at the diner after her near-brush with an automobile accident.
However, this time, she was crying as well.

"It's all over, Daria," Jane tried to reassure her partner in crime, "Tom
won't be hurting either of us again."

"Is that really so, Jane?," Daria sobbed.  Somehow the tone of her voice
wasn't reassuring to Jane.

================================================================

The Tank was now going down the street.  Trent was at the wheel when he
saw something up ahead.

"Holy--" Trent began to say.

It was two vehicles that had crashed headlong into each other.  Trent
pulled the Tank aside and he and his bandmates got out.

Jesse went to the first vehicle.  He was shocked as to who he saw
inside.  A woman of Oriental extraction was slumped over the steering
column.

"Trent," Jesse said, "you know this woman?"

Trent went over and turned her face around.

"Holy mother of God!," Trent said, "It's Ms. Li.  He tried to feel a
pulse, but there was none.  "She's dead," he finally concluded.

Max and Nicholas went to the other vehicle.  The airbags had deployed on
the driver's side but failed on the passenger side.

"There's three people in the other car!," Max said.

Trent and Jesse went over.  One was a blonde who seemed to have suffered
a mild concussion.  The second was a brunette, and she had crashed through
the windshield, her body laid across the hood.  The third was a redhead
who also seemed to have a concussion on her head.

"Oh, no!," Trent now recognized at least two of the people; "it's Daria's
sister and that bitch friend of hers!"

"But who's the third person?," Nicholas wanted to know.

"Not sure," Trent admitted.  He now checked their pulses; Quinn's and the
blonde's were all right, but the brunette's was very weak.

"Max," Trent now said, "find a pay phone and call 911!"

Max now ran down the street.

"I never thought Ms. Li would get what's coming to her in this fashion,"
Trent admitted.

================================================================

Daria was now at a sheriff's sub-station; she had been there to tell the
deputies her side of Tom's attack on her.  Jane now approached her.

"Daria, are you all right now?," Jane asked.

"Feeling better," Daria admitted.

Jake, Helen, Frank and Kay now entered the sub-station.  Helen was the
first to approach Daria.

"Daria," Helen now said, "thank God you're all right!"  She hugged her
eldest daughter tightly.

"Where's Tom?," Kay asked the deputy.

"He's in our temporary lock-up," the deputy answered.  He led the way for
her.

"Are you sure you're all right, kiddo?," Jake asked Daria.

Daria just nodded.

Suddenly, another deputy entered the room.

"I'm looking for Jake and Helen Morgendorffer," the deputy said in grave
tones.

"We're them," Jake said for the both of them.  "What's happening?"

"We just got an accident report in.  Two cars involving four people.  One
of them was your youngest daughter, Quinn."

Jake and Helen had shocked looks on their faces.

"Oh, dear God!," Daria now blurted out.

"Who found them?," Jane asked.

"Are you Trent Lane's brother?," the deputy said.

"Yes," Jane replied.

"He was the one who turned the report in," the deputy continued.
"Everyone is down in Cedars of Lawndale Medical Center.  We'll give you a
ride down there if you want."

Everyone now hurried off with the deputy.

================================================================

When the Morgendorffers and Jane got to the hospital, Trent and Mystik
Spiral were there in the waiting room with them.

"Trent," Jane said, "what's happening?"

"Daria's sister and the blonde got off with concussions," Trent replied.
"However, the brunette is in critical condition and is in surgery right
now.  Ms. Li was in the other car and she died on impact."

Jane gave an audible gasp.

"My God--" Daria found herself saying.

A doctor in scrubs now stepped out of the operating room.

"Doctor," Jake approached him, "I'm Jake Morgendorffer, I'm Quinn
Morgendorffer's father.  Is Quinn going to be all right?"

"The swelling will go down eventually for her," the doctor said, "she was
just damn lucky that getting a concussion will be the worst of it for her.
She could have been more seriously injured or killed."

"Who was Quinn with in that car?," Helen asked.

"A certain Lindy Messerschmidt was the driver," the doctor continued;
"she also managed to get off just a concussion.  The other passenger was
Sandi Griffin.  She's got massive internal injuries."

"Oh, my God--" Helen said.

Tom and Linda Griffin now entered the room.

"Doctor," Linda took charge of matters, "where's Sandi?"

"She's in surgery," the doctor said.

Suddenly, a second doctor now entered the room.  He went over to the
Griffins.

"Are you Tom and Linda Griffin?," the other doctor asked them.

"Yes," Tom replied.

"We did everything we could," the other doctor said, "but there was too
much internal damage.  I'm sorry, but we lost her."

Linda was now overcome with grief and collapsed into Tom's arms, crying.

Daria saw all this and felt her fists tightening up.

================================================================

This wasn't exactly the way Daria had planned to spend Christmas, being at
the bedside of Quinn at the hospital with Jake, Helen, Jane, Trent and
Frank, but here she was nevertheless.  Quinn had her head bandaged up,
but she was alert; in fact, she had just woke up.

"Quinn," Helen began, "are you all right?"

"I think so," Quinn said, "but my head hurts."

"It's going to hurt for a while," Jake said, "but the doctor said it's
going to be all right."

"Where's Lindy and Sandi?," Quinn asked.

There was an awkward silence.

"Lindy's in another room with a concussion herself," Daria finally broke
the silence; "Sandi didn't make it."

"What?," Quinn now said, "Sandi's dead?  It can't be true!"

"I'm sorry, Quinn," Helen said, "but she suffered a lot of internal
injuries and they couldn't save her."

"It's not fair, it's not fair, dammit!," Quinn now began to sob.  "Sandi
and I were getting things back together again, then Lindy spiked the
punch with some vodka, and the next thing I knew Sandi and I got into a
fight, then Lindy decided to drive us back home.  Now I'm here in the
hospital because of her."

"And that's not all," Jane added; "Lindy's car plowed right into one that
was driven by Ms. Li; she was killed as well."

"I thought the Fashion Club was going to be back, better than ever," Quinn
sobbed, "now we've lost Sandi, and the last memory I'll ever have of her
is her being mad at me and telling me I was kicked out of the Fashion
Club!"

Quinn cried loudly.  Helen consoled her.

For Daria, this was too much.  She stormed out the room and asked a nearby
nurse where Lindy's room was.  When she got there, she saw Lindy, lying
there in bed with bandages around her head.

"I hope you're satisfied, you bitch!," Daria said to Lindy.

"And what do you mean by that remark?," Lindy said to Daria bold as brass.

"You broke your promise to Quinn and me that there would be no alcohol
at that party, that's what!," Daria shot back.

"So what?  I didn't knew that that much alcohol was going to have such an
effect on them."

"Thanks to you, Quinn's got a concussion, and two people are dead because
of you."

"From what Quinn told me about them," Lindy now said matter-of-factly,
"you weren't crazy about them to begin with."

This was too much for Daria.  She went right up to Lindy and slapped her
across the face.

"Hey!," Lindy yelled, "that hurt!"

"I only wish it hurt a hell of a lot more than that!," Daria yelled
herself.  "Sure, I wasn't too crazy about Angela Li and Sandi Griffin, but
that didn't mean I wished them dead!  When I heard Quinn telling me that
she thought that things were being patched up between her and Sandi,
that really got to me.  I'll admit it, I couldn't stand Sandi Griffin,
but for you to casually dismiss her like that, then feel no remorse for
killing her, that really makes me sick!  As for Ms. Li, sure she was a
money-grubbing, egotistical, dictatorial bitch, but she didn't deserve to
die either!  You decided to become judge, jury and executioner when you
decided to get drunk and go behind the wheel!  Let me tell you something,
no matter what sentence they decide to mete out on you, it won't be
enough!"

"Go to Hell!," Lindy now screamed.

"I'll see you there!," Daria now yelled and stormed out the room.  Daria
now found the nearest stairway and ran down the stairs and out of the
hospital.  Surprisingly, she saw Frank there.

"Daria--" Frank began to say.

"Leave me alone right now, Frank!," Daria screamed.

"Daria, I know how you feel right now," Frank continued.  "But we can see
that justice is done in this matter.  We're going to take both Tom and
Lindy to court.  We can see that they won't harm anyone anymore."

Suddenly, Kay's car pulled up.  Kay got out and approached Daria.

"Daria, I don't know how to put this to you--" Kay began to say.

"Things can't get any worse in my life right now," Daria said.

"Tom was found hanged in the Lawndale County Jail this morning," Kay
said.  "He apparently used some sheets in the bed of his cell to do the
deed."

Daria now walked away, heading toward her VW.  Frank now tried to stop
her.

"Let her run," Kay said.  "She's going to have to deal with her own demons
in her own way."

Daria now drove off, not knowing what was going to happen next.

================================================================

A couple of weeks passed.  Lindy was put on trial on two counts of
vehicular manslaughter and one count of DWI.  Now Daria, Quinn, Helen,
Jake, Jane, Trent, Frank, Stacy, Tiffany, Tom and Linda were in the
courtroom, waiting for the verdict  Quinn's and Lindy's bandages were
long gone by now.  Judge Cornelius J. Reinhardt was presiding over the
case of "People v Messerschmidt".  The jury was now filing in, and the
foreman handed the verdict to the bailiff, who in turn handed it to Judge
Reinhardt.

"Will the defendant please rise?," Reinhardt ordered.  Lindy and her
court-appointed lawyer now arose.

"On the first count of vehicular manslaughter in the first degree in
regard to Angela Li, how does the jury find?," Reinhardt asked the
foreman.

"We the jury find the defendant guilty," the foreman said.

"So say you all?," Reinhardt asked.

"So say we all," the foreman replied.

"On the second count of vehicular manslaughter in the first degree in
regard to Sandra Griffin, how does the jury find?," Reinhardt asked the
foreman.

"We the jury find the defendant guilty," the foreman said.

"So say you all?," Reinhardt asked.

"So say we all," the foreman replied.

"On the third count of driving while intoxicated, how does the jury
find?," Reinhardt asked the foreman.

"We the jury find the defendant guilty," the foreman said.

"So say you all?," Reinhardt asked.

"So say we all," the foreman replied.

Lindy broke down and cried.  "I didn't mean to do it," she sobbed.

Reinhardt banged his gavel.  "Order, order in the court," he said.  "Now,
as required by state law, I must pronounce sentence immediately.  But
before I do that, let me just say to the defendant that I am appalled at
her behavior during this trial.  Her confession that she didn't realize
her drinking problem really sickened me.  Then to find out that she had
previous DWI's as well as not bothering to show up for her
court-ordered AA meetings is equally heinous.  But her callous disregard
for human life is intolerable.  Therefore I have decided to mete out the
toughest sentence possible.  Therefore, I hereby sentence you to the
maximum sentence possible for vehicular manslaughter in this state:
fifteen years to life for each count, to be served consecutively.
Furthermore, you are fined $2500, and your license to drive in this
state is revoked for life.  I hope you're happy with the way you messed up
your life and the lives of the people you've affected by your actions,
Ms. Messerschmidt, because I am sure as hell not happy myself.  This
court is adjourned."  He banged the gavel once again.

"You bitch!," Lindy shouted at Daria; "this is all your fault!"

"Hey," Quinn retorted, "don't  call my sister a bitch!"

Lindy flipped the middle finger at both Morgendorffer sisters as she was
taken away to jail.

"I guess we can have some closure in this," Daria said.

"Not yet," Helen said.  "We're thinking of suing her."

Daria shook her head, figuring that was what was going to happen next.

================================================================

In better days, Pizza King was the place where Daria and Jane hung out
after school, eating and talking about their day's experiences.  Somehow,
Daria just wanted to be here right now, even though Jane herself said she
wasn't too hot about it.  Frank was there as well, sitting next to Daria.

"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my inter-semester break," Daria
said.  "Nearly being raped by Tom, Quinn getting involved in an car
accident that killed Sandi and Ms. Li, then Tom hanging himself."

"Did you talk to Mrs. Sloan about this?," Jane asked.

"I did," Daria replied.  "She said Tom was in an emotional tailspin since
I broke up with her.  Maybe getting kicked out of Bromwell just pushed
him over the edge.  She said she realizes it wasn't my fault.  But,
somehow, what if it was?"

"Don't say that," Frank said.  "It wasn't any more your fault than what
happened to Quinn, Sandi, Ms. Li or my great-grandfather.  Sometimes
events happen that we have no control over."

"I have to agree with Frank," Jane added.  "Besides, aren't we supposed
to start heading back to Boston tomorrow?"

"Not before I see the tree planting ceremony they were going to have at
Lawndale High for Ms. Li and Sandi," Daria said.

"I guess that would be your means of closure?," Jane asked.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Daria conceded.

================================================================

Surprisingly, when Daria got to the ceremony the next day, just before she
and Jane were going to head back to Boston, there was a rather sparse
crowd.  Mr. DeMartino had abolished Ms. Li's "mandatory-voluntary"
policy, so essentially it was Stacy, Tiffany, star quarterback Kevin
Thompson, Quinn and DeMartino standing at the front lawn of Lawndale
High, with two trees that were going to be planted next to the Tommy
Sherman Memorial Crutch.  Quinn and Kevin were wielding shovels.

"Well, I guess nobody ELSE is going to SHOW UP for this stupid CEREMONY,"
DeMartino said, with his right eye bulging out.  "So, why don't we GET
THIS THING OVER WITH?!?!??!?!  KEVIN!  QUINN!  START DIGGING!!!!!!!!!!"

Somehow, it was just pathetic seeing Kevin making up twelfth grade and
digging a hole in the ground.  It only got more pathetic when Kevin broke
the ground, then clonked the handle of the shovel into DeMartino's
forehead.

"AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!,"  screamed DeMartino.  "KEVIN, YOU IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!
WATCH IT!!!!!!!!!!"

"Oops!," Kevin now said, "Sorry, Mr. D!"

Quinn now began digging her hole.

Daria and Jane broke out in their respective Mona Lisa smile and evil
smirk.  No matter how much some things may have changed, some things
remained the same.

================================================================

AUTHOR'S AFTERWARD

================================================================

And that's that.  That's the end of my "Daria" stories.  I hope that this
story provides some kind of closure to fans of the show out there, as I
feel it provides some closure to myself.

There are a few things I wanted to cover.  First, despite what might have
been said at the Paperpusher's Message Board, it wasn't MTV who
decided to ruthless cancel the show; it was creator Glenn Eichler who
decided to call it a day.  Glenn said it himself in an interview Michelle
Klein-Häss conducted for Toon Magazine:  "We wanted to end the show with
our standards if not our brain cells intact."  Given a choice of either a
sixth--albeit shortened--season or a second movie, he opted for the
latter, which I think was a good choice.

Second, I borrowed the character of Judge Reinhardt from C. E. Forman's
stories.  Although I didn't show him at his bribable worst as in the case
of "Rain on Your Parade"/"Quinntet", he did show the tough-as-nails
personality he had in "To Helen Back" and "Driven Wild".

Lastly, as I said, this is the end for me.  I know there are some people
who begged me to come back into the business, but I think I decided that
this was going to be the end for me.  Think of this as my swan song in the
"Daria" fan fiction business.  I will still write other fics; recently
I've been on a Cartoon Cartoons kick, writing a lot of "Ed, Edd n Eddy"
stories and such, as well as plans to ink an couple of fics in the
"Star Trek" saga (one involves "Enterprise", the newest series).  But as
far as Our Heroine's concerned, I think I've said enough and I don't want
to whip a dead horse into dog food.

Therefore, on that note, I say farewell to you all.  Godspeed, Daria
Morgendorffer; we will miss you very much.

Peter W. Guerin
President and CEO, Mark Zero Fan Fiction, Unlimited
Hudson Falls, New York
February 23, 2002
10:02 PM

================================================================

THE END

================================================================

THIS HAS BEEN AN EXCLUSIVE CREATION OF
MARK Ø FAN FICTION, UNLIMITED!

================================================================

"Home of the World's Weirdest Fan Fiction"

==============================================================

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================================================================

E-mail:  markzero@onebox.com
ICQ:  48647033
Official chat room #markzero at Sorcery.Net

================================================================

CLANG!  CLANG!  OUCH!  I HIT MYSELF WITH THE !@#$%^& HAMMER!

================================================================

MARK Ø FAN FICTION REMEMBERS THOSE WHO WERE LOST ON
SEPTEMBER 11, 2001.  GOD BLESS AMERICA.

================================================================