_The Look-Alike Series_ Daria fan fiction by Canadibrit Episode 7: "Grating Expectations" prose adaptation by Austin Loomis "It's the terror of knowing what this world is about Watching some good friend scream `Let me out!'" -- David Bowie and Freddie Mercury, "Under Pressure" Jodie Landon, superstudent, got out of bed and walked over to her closet. She opened it and looked wistfully at a pair of blue jeans that had seen better days; then, with a sigh, she removed her usual brown skirt and pink blouse. Downstairs in the kitchen, her father, Andrew Landon, was hidden behind the _Lawndale Times-Herald_ in a way anyone who'd ever seen Jake Morgendorffer at the table would have found familiar. Michelle Landon, Andrew's wife and Jodie's mother, was feeding Jodie's baby brother Evan. Jodie kept reading her SAT study guide. Suddenly, Evan grabbed for the spoon and flung strained goop at Jodie, spattering her face. She wiped it off with an air of calm, stifling a scream that made it to her face if not out her mouth. In the corridors of Lawndale High, Jodie was talking to her boyfriend, Lions captain and fellow African-American role model Michael Jordan "Mack" Mackenzie, when a few preppy-looking kids -- her Student Council chums -- came and swarmed her. Mack beat a hasty retreat, and Jodie looked back at him miserably as her responsibilities dragged her off. Afterward, in the school library, she looked up from her SAT study guide to see Lawndale High's resident brain donors, quarterback Kevin Thompson and head cheerleader Brittany Taylor, making out in one of the aisles. Then she turned her head and saw the look-alikes, her fellow intellectuals Daria Morgendorffer and Lynn Cullen. Though they weren't smiling or anything, it was clear to Jodie that they were reading for pleasure -- Daria had a copy of James Joyce's _Dubliners_, and Lynn was reading _Turnabout is Fair Play: a Student's Guide to In Loco Parentis_. Jodie looked at them wistfully, and then she felt inspiration strike. She took out a notepad and pen and began to write. * * * Daria, Lynn and their artist friend Jane Lane had converged on Daria's locker, books in hands, and were engaged in a heated debate as Jodie approached. "I say DeMartino," Daria led off, "just before we leave for summer vacation." "No way, Daria!" Jane replied. "It's gonna be O'Neill, halfway between Christmas and Easter this year." "Actually, you guys," Lynn opined, "if I was putting money down on this, I'd bet Li, and sooner than spring semester." "Ha!" Jodie decided it was time to cut in. "What's up, you guys?" she asked, though she had a pretty good idea what the answer would be. "We'd *love* to tell you...but then we'd have to kill you..." Okay, the *eventual* answer, once they decided to stop dodging the question. "Come on, you guys." "It's an informal pool," Daria shrugged. "We're trying to decide which member of the faculty will be the first to go," Lynn clarified. Jodie found that a little non-specific for such a pool. "Go?" "Insane..." Jane said. "Corrupt..." Daria continued the list. "...Or just the one that gets fired first," Lynn finished it. "Barch, and next Thanksgiving," Jodie replied without missing a beat. "That's when her divorce is finalized." The outcast trio looked at her. This was a cynical side of Jodie that they'd only seen a few times -- most notably at Grove Hills, when she'd remarked to Daria about the strain of being "a role model for all the other African-American teens at Lawndale High. Oops, where'd they go?" and most recently when she'd given, as a reason for joining Daria's silent protest of Lynn's expulsion, that "Colleges love this sort of thing." Eyebrows went up all around. Jodie decided to seize the moment. "Can I ask you guys a favor?" "You remember our deal, don't you?" Daria reminded her. "This isn't an extracurricular activity or anything." Jodie had agreed not to try and get Daria involved in activities for the rest of her junior year; the alternative had been letting Ms. Barch's grudge against Mack put Kevin in charge of the Lions at the homecoming game, and *that* would have been a *real* disaster. "I just want an opinion." She handed over a few sheets of paper. "It's an editorial for the _Lawndale Lowdown_. I haven't decided if I'm going to submit it yet." Daria took the sheets and read out the title. "`Ms. Li's Brave New World'?" She fell silent as she read, then spoke up as the irony hit. "Oh. I see. You mean `brave new world' in the Aldous Huxley/Ira Levin sense." She handed the papers to Jane. Jane's lips moved slightly as she read, then she stopped and her eyes widened. "Ouch." She handed it on to Lynn. Lynn stayed perfectly motionless as she read, then handed the paper back. "You've got a flair for this, Jodie. I really caught the Orwellian despair." Jodie just had to know. "So...overall, what do you think?" In unison, the other three replied, "Perfect." "Thanks, you guys," Jodie said with a weak smile. "I think I needed to hear that." She moved on. "It'll never see print," Daria pointed out once Jodie was safely out of earshot. "Not a chance," Jane had to agree. "Damn shame," Lynn concluded. * * * Jodie dashed into the classroom where the Lowdown had its offices in a considerable rush. In her hands, she held two folders -- one with the "Ms. Li's Brave New World" essay and the other with one on "What Student Council Means To You." She looked between them, undecided. Mack appeared at the door, but she didn't even notice until he said "Hey." Startled out of her deep thoughts, Jodie dropped the papers. She bent down to pick them up, but was paying more attention to Mack than to her papers. "Hey," she smiled. "Feel like busting out of here?" Mack asked wryly. "Dad had some tickets to `The Tempest' that he can't use." "Great. Let's get out of here before someone else decides they need me." She dropped a folder on the table, not really caring which one, then took Mack's arm and hurried out. * * * In the cafeteria, Daria and Jane toyed with their lunch. "What is this?" Daria asked her friend. "Meatloaf. What the meat is, I have no idea." Lynn approached their table, carrying a tray of food in her hands and a copy of the _Lowdown_ under her arm. "Roadkill Surprise," she said. "The surprise is that the meat in it is whatever the bus hit on the way to school this morning." Daria and Jane, worried looks upon their faces, pushed their trays away in perfect unison -- both devoutly hoping she was kidding, but you never really knew with cafeteria food. "You sure know how to kill culinary ambience, Lynn," Daria said in what might have been an accusing tone if it had been worth the bother. "Never mind the roadkill, anyway. Did you guys get a look at the _Lowdown_?" "What," Jane scoffed, "and look like we care what goes on at the school?" "We have principles, Lynn." "Well, you'd appreciate this issue," Lynn replied to Daria's comment. "Take a look." She opened the newspaper, leafed through it briefly, then laid it open on the table. Daria lean over and read the article. "`Ms. Li's Brave New World.'" A pause. "I don't believe she actually did it." "I don't believe Ms. Li actually printed it," Jane boggled. "I thought we had the Thought Police on patrol." "The only way I can figure it," Lynn surmised, "is that Ms. Li only read the title, got impressed and decided that, if it was Jodie writing it, then it had to be okay. -- She's not going to be a happy bunny when she gets a look at this." "This could get interesting," Daria observed. "Maybe," Jane conceded dubiously, "but Jodie's not the type to quote Monty Python at the top of her lungs when *she* gets in trouble." "What can I say?" Lynn replied with an embarrassed smirk. "I'm unique." "Uniquely disturbed, maybe," Daria riposted. Right on cue, the voice of doom -- well, the voice of Angela Li, but it amounts to the same thing -- came over the PA system. "Would Miz Jodie Landon please report to the principal's office." Daria, Jane and Lynn looked at each other. "There she goes," Lynn summed it up. "I think I'd really enjoy being a fly on the wall *there,*" Daria allowed as. "Ask, and ye shall receive. Come around to my house this afternoon and I'll let you hear the playback." Jane was highly amused. "You bugged Ms. Li's office?" "Turnabout is fair play. -- I wanted to be prepared if she tried anything like the stunt that inspired Operation Faeces Tauri again." _And it's good practice for Operation Ace of Spades, but they don't need to know about that just yet._ "So I hit MI6_Factory_Rejects for some decent hidden mikes." "When did you get like this, anyway? Were you born twisted?" Lynn's only answer was a wry smile. * * * Lynn hadn't had a chance to install a minicamera in Ms. Li's office like the one that had gotten a *very* candid shot of Ms. Barch and Mr. O'Neill, but using the powers of omniscient narration, we can tell you what that metaphorical fly on the wall would have seen -- Jodie sitting across the desk from a *very* angry power behind the pantsuit. "Now, Miz Landon, perhaps you could explain this editorial?" Jodie was momentarily stuck for a reply. "I..." "It's quite all right, Miz Landon, I understand more about this situation than you think." Jodie was stunned. _Now I *am* in for it._ "You...you do?" "Of course," Li replied smugly. "If you'll tell me which of the girls you suspect, we'll have this matter cleared up in no time." When she listened to the playback, Daria would be struck by how much Jodie sounded like Daria herself as she said, "Excuse me?" "Honestly, Miz Landon, you don't really think I could accuse you, our top pupil at...Laaaawndale Hiiiigh, of such an offense? No, this is clearly the work of either Miz Morgendorffer or Miz Cullen..." Something seemed to occur to her, and she asked, quite earnestly, "unless you think it might have been a joint effort?" Jodie kept staring at Ms. Li, but that didn't show up on the tape, so the misfits were left to assume it. "Come now, Miz Landon, surely you realize there's no advantage in protecting these deviants." Jodie was torn. She knew full well that she could get out of this easily; all she'd have to do would be play to Ms. Li's paranoid suspicions and blame Daria and Lynn. But then her face took on a rather put-out expression -- in a twisted way, she was actually proud of her editorial. In quiet but firm tones, she stated the facts. "It wasn't Daria or Lynn. I wrote the editorial." Talk about stunned. You could have knocked Li over with the feather in her cap. "What?" Jodie spoke up, just for emphasis. "I wrote it, and what's more, I meant every word of it." Li was obviously struggling to maintain her composure. "Miz Landon, I must say I'm shocked at this turn of events. This isn't like you. I'm going to call your parents and suggest a conference to discuss this. You may go." Jodie left, looking stricken. Ms. Li took out her hip flask and stared at it. "I don't know how much--" * * * "--more of these deviants I can take..." A sound of drinking emanated from the small tape recorder on Lynn's bed. Lynn, Jane and Daria were sitting around it with identical shocked looks on their faces. Jane was first to break the silence. "Wow. You two are infamous." "Whoopee," Daria mock-cheered in her usual deadpan tone. "They like me," Lynn chimed in with equal lack of affect. "They really, really like me. -- Wonder why Jodie didn't turn us in." "Hey, if I had written that editorial, I wouldn't want anyone else taking credit for it either." "Yeah," Jane agreed. Then she realized what she'd agreed *to*, and confusion set in. "Huh?" "Jodie wrote that editorial from somewhere in the deepest pit of her soul. I've read some of her other stuff and, while they hint at that feeling, nothing comes close. `Ms. Li's Brave New World' was no holds barred, and...well..." "So what you're telling me is that you wish you'd done it first?" Now Daria was embarrassed. "Well, if you want to put it that way..." "It's a moot point anyway," Lynn reminded them. "Sure, we'd all love to have written that editorial...or something like it anyway... but Jodie's the only one of us who would have been allowed the leeway needed to get it into the _Lowdown_. It's better this way." "Yeah, well, what do you think is going to happen when Li gets hold of Jodie's parents?" Jane wondered. "I have a feeling it won't take long for us to find out," Daria concluded. * * * The next day, Daria was alone at her locker when Jodie approached her, still looking stricken. "Hey, Daria." "Hey. How's Lawndale's answer to Salman Rushdie?" She almost addressed her as "Salman Abigail Rushdie," but that would have been painting the lily. "Don't joke. Ms. Li hasn't got through to my parents yet, and the suspense is killing me. Anyway, I handed it in by complete accident." "Do the words `Freudian slip' mean anything to you?" Jodie's despair shone through. "What am I going to do, Daria? My parents will kill me!" Daria shrugged. "I hear Monte Carlo's nice this time of year..." Jodie decided to ignore that little sally. "Ms. Li's blaming you for all this, you know." _Yes, I know, but admitting that would mean explaining *how* I know._ Aloud, she simply said, "I'm not surprised," adding after a suitable pause, "You wouldn't be this worried if you'd thrown me to the lions, so I can assume I'm safe." "You'd think so," Jodie let a cynical tone creep into her voice, "but I doubt it. Ms. Li's probably on the phone to my parents right now, telling them how I've been indoctrinated into some sort of cult." Lynn and Jane approached. "What's going on?" the artiste in scarlet and black inquired. Daria explained, "Jodie's parents are about to be informed that their perfect achiever has been brainwashed by deviant cynics." "Yeah, right," Lynn replied in tones so sarcastic they would have sent a lesser student screaming. "We are the Flack-Jacket Mafia, and we bend overachievers to our will." She chuckled. "Who in their right mind is going to believe that?" "Parents are always willing to believe anything that takes the stain of guilt off them and their half-assed parenting." "Yeah," Jane chimed in. "After all, what would the Landons rather believe -- that their superstar daughter was brainwashed by a cult of freaks, or that their superstar daughter finally decided to have a healthy teenage rebellion?" "You three sure know how to cheer a girl up," Jodie grumbled. "Don't take it to heart," Lynn reassured her. "My mother's disappointed in me most of the time. It's something they get over." Jodie changed her tactic to concern for the rest of them. "Aren't you in the least bit worried about how this will affect you? Ms. Li's probably going to call your parents about this, you know." Daria shrugged. "I think my parents will be happy that I've turned into some kind of role model, to be honest." Lynn, too, shrugged. "Mom's come to expect this sort of thing out of me." Jane completed the sequence of shrugging. "What parents?" * * * Jodie walked into the living room and was hurrying toward the stairs when she was frozen in her tracks by her mother's voice. "Jodie Abigail Landon, get in here!" Jodie sighed and walked into the kitchen, where Evan was in a playpen on the floor and Michelle was sitting at the kitchen table, with a copy of _The Wall Street Journal_ open in front of her, glaring at her daughter. "I got a call from your principal today." "Mom, it was an accident. I wrote that editorial when I was under a lot of stress and I--" Michelle didn't let her daughter finish the sentence. "I can understand stress, Jodie, but you can't just vent all over the place. Ms. Li's strongly considering taking you off the Lowdown staff *and* student council. She wants a written apology tomorrow, so I suggest you start working on that." "I handed it in by accident!" "You never should have written it in the first place. Jodie..." Her mother sighed. "I know it's not easy, but you have to put these things into perspective. Now, your principal may be a little overzealous when it comes to parental control, but to call the woman a dictator--" This time it was Jodie's turn to interrupt. "Well, she *is* a dictator! She censors the Lowdown so strongly it's a wonder my editorial ever saw print! She violates the students' civil liberties at every opportunity if it'll make the school look good! She censored Daria and Jane's poster for that competition because she didn't like the way it made student life look, and you should hear what she did to Daria and Lynn to make them write some stupid essay praising Lawndale High for a magazine competition! She was this close," Jodie pressed a thumb and forefinger together, "to getting them institutionalized!" That had been the wrong tack to take, as it turned out. "And that's another thing; those girls you've taken to hanging around with. The daughter of a raving lunatic, some kind of latchkey bohemian and, from what you told me, a scheming rogue of a girl with no concept of boundaries! You've been acting strangely since you met those three; well, it stops now! I don't want you seeing them anymore, Jodie. Don't ever let me hear about it." "You can't tell me who I can be friends with!" "I can and I will if I have your best interests at heart!" Michelle tried to calm down. "Jodie, you're on the fast track to success now. You're getting a great head start on the future, and so far you've never done anything to jeopardize that. I can't watch you throw that away on some stupid teenage rebellion." Jodie was finally ready to explode. "A head start to *what?* To the big corporate finance world you so desperately want me to be part of? To the political future Dad wants that'll have me lying and cheating like all the rest? When I was seven, I wanted to be a ballerina, and you yanked me right out of dance lessons! My dreams should be my own!" She stormed out of the kitchen. "What about that apology?" Michelle called after her firstborn. "I'll tell you what she can do with her apology!" came the reply down the stairs, followed by the slam of a door. * * * The next morning, Jodie got out of bed and went to her closet, just like she'd done the day before, and so many times before that. This time, though, she took out those old blue jeans with a smile. They had a big hole in the right knee, but they had history. And there was something else about them, too. Jodie'd seen Jane's brother the musician around a few times, most recently when he dropped off provisions for Jane and her friends during the silent protest. What was his name? Brent? Kent? Something like that. Anyway, he had a favorite pair of jeans a lot like these, with a rip in about the same place. _Nicely symbolic,_ she thought as she walked into the kitchen wearing those jeans, her normal pink blouse and a pair of sneakers. She sat at the table without a word. Her father stared at her over his paper. Michelle glared at her, then went back to feeding Evan, saying, "I want a word with you about yesterday." "What do you think you're wearing?" Andrew asked. In a monotone that would have done Daria proud, Jodie replied, "No, and what I feel like." "Don't you take that tone with me, young lady." "I had no tone. I was toneless." She stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I've lost my appetite." She stormed out. "Get back in here!" But the door slammed behind her. * * * Daria, Jane and Lynn watched from their position in front of Daria's locker as Jodie walked past in her torn jeans. Her Council cronies approached, but she ignored them, streaming right past and leaving them looking hurt and lost. "Well, this is bizarre," Jane observed. "Invasion of the body snatchers, maybe," Daria suggested.. "Yeah, right, like the last time." _Well, at least this time, we know it's not about the INS *or* an embarrassing neck pimple, let alone invaders from the Red Planet._ "This is another one of those weird, moronic things that I don't want to know about, right?" Lynn asked in a just-checking way. "Oh yeah," the other two replied in unison. * * * In history class, Daria and Jodie sat side by side, with Jane behind them. The famously short-tempered history teacher, Anthony DeMartino, was pacing the front of the room, his eye popping for emphasis. "Now, class, can anyone explain to me *why* the concept of a *utopian state* will never pan out? -- Jodie?" "In as few words as possible, Mr. DeMartino, because people suck." There was a shocked silence as the entire class stared at her. Daria and Jane shared a *look.* Mr. DeMartino looked pained -- probably because he'd just lost one of the only two or three pupils who could actually give him an answer once in a while. He struggled to recover. "Well, Jodie, while that is *certainly* the case, that's a *bit* too *simplistic!*" As a last resort, he turned to... "Daria?" Daria sighed. * * * Someone was in the kitchen at Morgendorffer Home Base that night. To be specific, Jake was leafing through a cookbook entitled _Cooking with Aphrodisiacs -- Spice Up Your Marriage the Easy Way!_ "Ew...oysters," he shuddered. The doorbell rang. At the door, when Jake opened it, was a familiar-looking African-American girl in jeans and blouse, looking kind of glum. "Hello, Mr. Morgendorffer. Is Daria in?" Jake was stunned. "Sure...go on up. Second door on the left." He yelled up the stairs. "Daria! Your friend...um..." Dammit, what was her name? Judy? Joni? "...that one from the gifted school's here!" She headed on up the stairs, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts. "Wow. That's three friends come to visit in two years!" He sniffled and wiped away a tear. "I knew her day would come!" * * * Daria was a little surprised when Jodie entered her room. "Hey." "Hey." Jodie surveyed the decor. "I always wondered what this place looked like on the inside." Padded walls, handrail, sawed-off window-bars, poster of Kafka, skeletons on walls and floor...she couldn't have imagined it, but she wasn't surprised by any of it. "A bleak and dismal echo of times to come. There's no place like home." "Daria...I need some advice." Daria was surprised -- this was a request she'd rarely had, and certainly not from Jodie. Even after Tommy Sherman's death, when it seemed like the whole school was coming to her for grief counseling, Jodie and Mack had demonstrated their level-headedness by not talking about how "it really made you think," or saying they knew they could talk to her because she was always contemplating "morbid topics" like the way the real world works. Then again, if they could deal with being African-American teens at relentlessly whitebread Lawndale High, they could probably handle most major slings and arrows anyway. So if Jodie was willing to say she needed help, she must *really* need help. "Um... okay." "How do you...I don't know...not give a damn?" Daria felt her eyes go wide. "Excuse me?" "I see you mouth off to the teachers and insult the students and still manage to get the grades you do. You don't care what anyone thinks of you and you're still a success...by your own measure of success." "And you're not feeling successful now that you've blown everyone off?" Jodie sighed. "I've spent so long making my parents happy that I don't know how to do anything else." Daria had to think that one over. "Um...to be honest, I don't know what to tell you. My parents want me to live up to my potential... so I'm very careful not to let them know what that is. It's very rare that I try to impress people...my parents, anyway." Jodie's eyes widened at that last statement, and Daria looked away. "Just...how do you get the courage up to tell people that you don't care what they think?" Daria shrugged. "It's just...there, if you believe in yourself enough." _Or if you find the right teacher,_ she realized. * * * Lynn opened her front door to reveal Daria, with Jodie firmly in tow. "Hi," she said, a little confused. "Hey," Daria replied. "I suggested she come to you for lessons in not giving a damn." Lynn raised her eyebrows and escorted them up to her room. She went through her bookshelf -- a silver wire contraption with smoked-glass shelves -- while Jodie and Daria sat on the bed. "I'm not sure I understand this. Jodie, you want to be able to tell your parents to go get a boarding pass for the ferry on the river Styx -- being sure to remember the dog biscuits for Cerberus. Yet you don't feel you can because you respect them more than you do yourself." She got a flash of John Cleese as a cowboy, telling Eric Idle, _A man can run all he wants, Arthur Putey. But sooner or later, he realizes the only thing he's running from is himself._ Jodie shrank visibly under the onslaught. "Well..." She found the book she was looking for and thrust it at Jodie. "Try having a read of this first off." Jodie read out the title. "_So You Finally Realized You're a Doormat_?" Lynn shrugged, a bit sheepish. "A moment of weakness. I showed an aptitude for music, and my mother slung me in band. I bought this when they tried to take me off the sax and stuck me with this God-awful alto clarinet. My finger pads were too small to cover the holes properly and I sounded like a lame duck being bitten by fire ants." Remembering her own brief involuntary musical career, Daria hummed a few bars of "Pop Goes the Weasel." Jodie read aloud from the book. "`The best way to start your emancipation is by starting simple. Practice the art of telling those that annoy you to go to hell.' Do I have to do this?" "Sounds fair enough to me," Daria replied. "`You will have to start fairly obvious to get the knack of it, but if you keep at it, soon you will be able to wither at a single glance.'" She seemed to be catching on, however reluctantly. "Okay..." "That's kind of the cure-all," Lynn observed. "It works on all people, all the time. How do you think Daria got so good at turning you back when you wanted an extra pair of hands on an extracurricular project?" "It actually sounds ideal for you," Daria pointed out. "A do- it-yourself attitude problem creator. You could finally tell Brittany what you thought of her. -- She probably wouldn't be able to understand it, but..." "It would make me feel better," Jodie nodded. "I understand." Daria decided it was time for some quick drills. "So what are you going to tell your family when you get in and they want to know where you've been all afternoon?" Jodie thought about this for a moment, obviously putting herself into a Daria-like mind frame. "`If you want to know so badly, hire a PI.'" Daria and Lynn raised their eyebrows, impressed. Lynn took the next question. "And if Ms. Li comes around tomorrow and offers you your Council spot back?" Another pause for thought. "`As much as I enjoy being surrounded by worshipful sycophants, the idea that I might come out of the experience with your leadership skills leads me to believe that I'd be better off joining the Skydiving-without-a-Parachute Club.'" "By Jove, I think she's got it." "That last one was a little obvious," Daria judged, "but pretty good for a first-timer." Jodie beamed as if lit from within. * * * The next day, Jane got the story from her friends as they walked through the halls. "So you two coached the Junior Overachiever of America in the art of sarcasm?" "She came to us for help," Daria explained. Lynn added, "She wanted us to save her from herself." "Well, this is going to be an interesting rest of the year..." Jane mused. Jodie walked by, still wearing her jeans and blouse combination, arm-in-arm with Mack, who looked dazed but pleased. "Hey," she said to the three of them. With one voice, they replied, "Hey." Daria carried on the conversation for all of them. "So, how did it go with your parents?" "Well, needless to say, the PI line didn't go down very well with them, but it *did* shut them up long enough for me to get to my room and shut the door. I heard Mom talking and she thinks it's some kind of phase I'm sure to grow out of sooner or later." "Do you think it'll be sooner, or later?" "Personally, I think it'll be around the same time Satan drives to work in a snowplow." Mack looked fondly at Jodie. "I certainly *hope* it's around the same time Satan drives to work in a snowplow. I like having time to spend with you." Jodie turned back to, as Lynn had called them, the Flack-Jacket Mafia. "We're going to the movies after school. Want to come? _The Blair Witch Project_ is playing." "Thanks," Daria allowed as, having heard good things about the cult hit, "but we'll pass." "Wouldn't want to cramp Mack's style," Jane added. "Whatever," Jodie shrugged. "See you." And she and Mack walked away. "That was pretty cool," Lynn observed. Ms. Li stopped Jodie and Mack as they passed her office. "Ah, Miz Landon, I've been looking for you..." Jodie looked right at her and replied, "The hidden cameras must be such a blessing to you, then." Daria, Jane and Lynn smirked along with Mack and Jodie as they watched the dialogue unfold. Li was clearly miffed, but managed to continue. "Indeed. Now, I've spoken to the staff of the _Lowdown_ and all agree that they cannot manage without you. I have agreed, with all due reluctance, to allow you to resume your position as editor, although your Council post *will* be withheld pending further proof of your fitness for the position." "Actually, Ms. Li, I'm afraid my schedule doesn't allow the time for the _Lowdown_ *or* Student Council. -- I've been seriously neglecting my other activities of late." Li must have been lulled by her comfortable belief that the Jodie Abigail Landon *she* knew would never openly rebel. That's the only excuse for her walking right into the beautiful setup Jodie had just laid out. "What `other activities'? I thought I threw you out of all your activities!" "Oh, this is an activity you don't usually sponsor here at... Laaawndale Hiiigh," she drawled out the last two words in a dead-on imitation of Ms. Li's hushed, reverential tone. "It's called having a life. Later." And she walked off on Mack's arm, not looking back as Ms. Li stared after her in shock. Then Li turned on Daria, Lynn and Jane, who were smirking to themselves. "You think this is all so wonderful, don't you? Well, we'll see who has the last laugh!" She stalked off, probably to fortify her nerves from the hip flask. In an innocent deadpan, Daria observed, "We weren't laughing... were we?" "Not so much as a mild guffaw," Jane confirmed in the same level tones. "Jodie did us proud," Lynn allowed as. "Not bad for a beginner." "That's typical," Daria remarked. "Even when she's not caring what people think of her, she has to be the best at it." "Think we have competition as outcasts?" Jane wondered. They actually had to think about that a moment. Then, as one voice, they all agreed, "Nah." ADAPTOR'S NOTES I think Michael Palin may have played Arthur Putey when the sketch was incorporated into the Python movie _And Now for Something Completely Different_, and I *know* that instead of an ersatz John Wayne, the film version had the disembodied Voice of God, but it was definitely Idle and Cleese on the telly, I'll testify to that under oath. Obligatory legal blap: Daria Morgendorffer was created (as were the rest of the Lawndale characters) by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn, and she and her neighbors are copyright 1993, 1997, 2000 MTV Networks, a Viacom company. (As Michelle Klein-Haess has pointed out, work-for-hire sucks the yolks from ostrich eggs.) Monty Python quotes and characters are copright 1970, 2000 Python (Monty) Pictures Ltd. Lyrics from "Under Pressure" are copyright 1978 Bowie/Mercury. They are here used, without the permission of their creators or owners, in the not-for-profit context of fan-fiction. The character of Lynn Cullen is copyright 1999, 2000 Janet "Canadibrit" Neilson, as is this storyline, which was adapted by Austin Loomis (to whom the prose format version is copyright 2000) with permission. All other characters, locations and incidents (of which I don't think there are any, actually) are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any coincidence of names is regretted, and any resemblance to persons living, dead, undead, or wandering the night in ghostly torment is either purely satirical or not my fault. As a "substantially transformative" derivative work, this story is protected by the Supreme Court's decision in re Campbell v. Acuff Rose Music. It may be freely redistributed as long as this copyright notice is maintained intact, but may not be in any way redistributed for profit without the permission of the legal owners of all concepts involved. The present author hereby gives permission for any and all keepers of Daria fanfic pages to archive this work (as if I could stop them). Any publication of this story for profit without the express written permission of Austin Loomis, Janet Neilson and MTV Networks (like any of that'll happen, especially the last) is strictly prohibited, and violators, if I ever decide to track them down, will be strung up by the thumbs, beaten about the head and shoulders with a free-range carrot, and then handed over to corporate lawyers who will do terrible things to them on purpose. Austin, and good day.