Legal notice: Daria and all characters property of MTV. No copyright infringement is intended with this tribute script. Employees of MTV are welcome to read this: I hereby aver that I will not attempt to sue MTV should similar ideas someday appear on the show. I'm an aspiring writer, and my talent is for sale. However, this script was not produced for financial gain--
it's a work of appreciation for a great TV show and its devoted fans.

A Daria Script by Amanda Summers


QUINN: …So then, he ordered the entrée for both of us— in French!
Everyone in the whole room was staring at our table.

HELEN: I’m glad you had a good time, dear.

QUINN: That was the best date ever.

DARIA: So, Quinn. What was your date’s name?

QUINN: Uagh! What difference does it make? I’ll remember him when he
asks me out again. He always wears this really cool silver thumb

HELEN: What about you, Daria, what did you do last night?

DARIA: I went out on a date with a millionaire secret agent who flew
me to his secluded headquarters in Honolulu. We dined on roast pig
and swallows’ tongues while his servants polished his silver sock
suspenders. I didn’t catch his name.

JAKE: (looks up abruptly) You went out on a date?

HELEN: There’s no need for sarcasm, Daria—

DARIA: There’s always need for sarcasm.

HELEN: I realize you may feel jealous of Quinn’s active social life,
but that’s no reason—

DARIA: Jealous? I can eat salad and not listen to boys every day in
the school cafeteria. Quinn’s made it her purpose in life.

QUINN: At least I have one!

HELEN: Girls! Daria, I want to talk to you alone.

DARIA: (Looks at Jake, who’s staring off into space, and Quinn,
vacantly toying with her utensils.) Go ahead.

HELEN: After supper.

DARIA: Then may I be excused? I’ve lost my appetite.


DARIA is lying on her bed, on the phone with JANE.

DARIA: I mean it, Jane. Five minutes and then call me back, or I’ll
be trapped for hours while my mom tries to make me feel better about

JANE: What’s she doing home? I thought she usually works late on
Friday. And every other day.

DARIA: She took the day off to go with Dad to the stress counselor.
Besides, every six months or so, she decides to recommit her
energies to her family. We’re about due for another spurt of
reckless attention from Mom.

JANE: Uh-oh. I suppose this attention usually focuses on—

DARIA: Fixing me.

JANE: Need a wrench?

DARIA: Need a life?

JANE: Okay, okay. So what’s broken?

DARIA: According to my mom, everything that isn’t Quinn. Her
therapist tells her not to compare us to each other, but you can
just see it gnawing at her sanity: Why can’t I have two chirpy,
popular, idiotic children? What went wrong the first time?

JANE: Wow, you sound really upset about this. Well-- I mean, you
don’t actually sound upset. But since you haven’t made a joke about
it yet, I have to conclude that it really bothers you.

DARIA: It takes up valuable time that I might otherwise use to
organize my spoon collection. (As deadpan as ever:) So in the name
of all that’s holy, whatever that may be, please Jane, call me back
five minutes after I hang up.

JANE: Si, senorita.

HELEN knocks on the door.

HELEN: Daria!

DARIA: (to Jane) Gotta go.

JANE: Good luck.

DARIA hangs up the phone.

DARIA: Come in.

HELEN enters DARIA’s bedroom. She looks around for a place
to sit, but we see that there’s no place in the room to sit
except the bed.

HELEN moves toward the bed. DARIA pulls herself upright into
a sitting position at the head of the bed; HELEN perches at
the foot, looking uneasy, but determined. She looks around
and spots the poster of the half-buried skeleton on the

HELEN: I hadn’t noticed your poster, sweetie. What is that? An
archeological dig?

DARIA: It’s the skeleton of Dante being disinterred when he was
moved from his pauper’s grave in France to an honored tomb in Italy.

HELEN: …I see.

DARIA: It’s amazing how, throughout history, many of the most
prominent thinkers have been outcast and exiled from their
homelands. I was thinking I might get a head start and defect.

HELEN: (Obviously hasn’t been listening.) Daria, there’s no point in
beating around the bush. I want you to see Dr. Walthrop.

DARIA: You want me to visit your therapist? Why? Do you want me to
give her a few pointers?

HELEN: I’m serious, Daria. I’m worried about your negative attitude
toward dating.

DARIA: I don’t have a negative attitude toward dating. It keeps
Quinn out of the house. I’m all for that.

HELEN: Yes, but why don’t you ever go out on dates?

DARIA: I guess I just haven’t met a guy with a nice enough car yet,

HELEN: Daria, you’re such a smart, pretty girl. I’m sure there are
plenty of boys who’d like to go out with you, if you had a more
positive outlook. Why can’t you give people a chance?

The phone rings. DARIA lunges for it.

DARIA: Hello?

JANE: Big news, Daria! My brother’s sitting in for the Slushpuppies’
guitarist for their gig tomorrow night!

DARIA: Seriously?

JANE: Yes! Trent’s down in the basement totally freaking out. You’ve
gotta come over here and watch.

DARIA: I’m on my way.

DARIA hangs up the phone.

DARIA: I gotta go, Mom. Jane’s brother Trent has a big, uh, career
opportunity, and he needs moral support.

HELEN: I didn’t know Jane had a brother. How old is he?

DARIA: Nineteen or twenty, I think.

HELEN: You think? You spend an awful lot of time over there, Daria.
You don’t know how old he is?

DARIA: No. But I’m pretty sure his name is Trent, and he always
wears this really cool silver thumb ring…

HELEN: All right, you can go for now, but we’re both going to see
Dr. Walthrop, Monday evening at five.

DARIA: You know, I’ve been thinking of signing up to work on the
school yearbook.

HELEN: That’s nice, but we’re still going.

DARIA: Gee, Mom, cheerleader tryouts are Monday evening. I’d sure
hate to miss that shining opportunity.

HELEN: No deals, Daria. We’re going.

DARIA: (After a pause) The law firm definitely doesn’t pay you
enough, Mom.

HELEN: No one could, sweetie. Have fun at Jane’s.


DARIA rings the doorbell. The door opens; JANE looks out.

JANE: Great! You’re here! This is a historic occasion.

DARIA: What, that Trent got a gig?

JANE: Even better! Trent combed his hair!

DARIA: Ooh. I can barely contain the excitement.

JANE heads inside, DARIA FOLLOWS.


JANE: I can tell you’re thrilled. The corners of your mouth aren’t
turned down as much as usual.

There’s a ruptured electric guitar sound in the background.

DARIA: I take it that soothing melody is the superstar himself?

JANE: The one, the only. He’s been memorizing the Slushpuppies’
songs all day. So far, they all sound like "Stairway to Heaven" on

DARIA: Isn’t that redundant?

They go into JANE’s room.


DARIA: So what happened to the Slushpuppies’ usual guitarist?

JANE: Food poisoning. His girlfriend tried to cook for him. She
didn’t realize you’re supposed to refrigerate eggs.

DARIA: Where are they playing?

JANE: Oscar’s, in Garverton. It’s kind of like a coffeehouse. You’re
going to come, right?

DARIA: Uh— okay. How’re we going to get to Garverton?

JANE: Hello! With Trent! Not that I trust him to drive to this
thing. He’ll probably panic and plow his car into a tree.

DARIA: Well, I’d hate to miss that. Why’s he so nervous? Trent has
his own band.

JANE: The Slushpuppies are pretty popular in Garverton. He’s
actually going to have to play for an audience that’s not too busy
hitting each other in the mosh pit to listen to the music. Hell,
it’s novel enough that he’s going to be playing for an audience.

A particularly jagged chord rattles the objects in the room.

DARIA: I think I just lost a filling.

JANE: I think I just lost a tooth.

There’s a loud plonking sound.

DARIA: I think Trent just lost a string.

TRENT: (from basement) AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

JANE: I think Trent just lost his nerve.

CUT TO black and white clip of HELEN and DARIA in DARIA’s

CUT TO commercial.


TRENT is taking off an electric guitar which has a broken
string. He’s scowling, and sits heavily beside the guitar.

WE SEE JANE and DARIA coming down the basement stairs.

JANE: Hey, Trent! That was your best riff yet! You should break
strings more often.

DARIA elbows JANE, frowning.

TRENT: Thanks a lot, Janey. (He looks up.) Oh. Hey, Daria.

DARIA: It sounded good. You must’ve been playing pretty hard to lose
a string.

TRENT: (Depressed.) I guess.

DARIA: Jane told me you’ve been asked to sit in with another band.

TRENT: (He looks at them both narrow-eyed for a moment, then
shrugs.) I’m not so sure about this. I’ve been learning the
Slushpuppies’ songs all day, and I don’t think I’m into it.

JANE: Yeah—anything beyond three chords is just too limiting, right,

TRENT: I mean, I’ve heard them play and they’re okay, but they have
a million songs and they all sound pretty much the same. I don’t
think I can keep all this stuff straight in time for the gig
tomorrow night.

DARIA: Even if you can’t memorize all their stuff, you can probably
fake it. Jane says all their songs sound like "Stairway to Heaven"

TRENT: (Perks up a bit.) Hey—yeah, they do. Janey, do you remember
where Dad keep his old Led Zeppelin albums?

TRENT stands up and begins to remove the broken guitar

JANE: Sure! I’ll go get them.

DARIA starts to follow JANE, who steps on her foot.


TRENT looks at DARIA.


DARIA: (Glaring at JANE, who’s up the basement stairs.) Nothing.

JANE flashes a thumbs-up at DARIA, who frowns.

TRENT threads a new string onto his electric guitar.

TRENT: Were you and Janey planning on doing something tomorrow

DARIA: No. Why?

TRENT: Well, when I told her about the gig, she raced off to call
you. I thought she might be cancelling something. It’s okay if you
two don’t want to come. I mean, it’s an hour’s drive to Garverton,
and Jesse’s going along, so the car might be kind of crowded with
four people and the equipment. It’s no big deal.

DARIA: That’s too bad. We were hoping you’d let us tag along.
Personally, I can’t get enough of "Stairway to Heaven".

JANE descends the stairs with the Led Zeppelin album.

TRENT: I guess we’ll make sure there’s room for you two in the car,

JANE: If you run out of space, we can always strap Daria to the
luggage rack.

TRENT: Good idea. And Janey, you can ride in the trunk.


QUINN: …so then he asked me to go to the ballet tonight! I’m
definitely going to need to get a new dress next week. This will be
the second time I’ve worn my black one on a date.

JAKE: A new dress? I thought you just went shopping last week!

QUINN: I’ve already worn that outfit, Daddy! It’s practically
useless now!

JAKE: One time and it’s useless? Isn’t there someplace you could
rent all these clothes that you only use once?

DARIA: She can’t do that, Dad. It would make too much sense.

HELEN: What about you, Daria, what do you have planned for tonight?

DARIA: Jane and I are going out to see a band. We’ll be back by

JAKE: Quinn, you should be home by eleven too.

QUINN: But Daddy, we’re going to the ballet!

DARIA: And she’ll want to stick around afterwards and get a T-shirt.

HELEN: Well, any boy who’s gentlemen enough to take you to the
ballet is surely gentlemen enough to get you home on time.

QUINN: But what if he wants to take me someplace afterwards?

DARIA: Like a four-star hotel.

QUINN: Yeah!


QUINN: That’s not what I meant!

JAKE: Quinn, I want you home by ten.

QUINN: But Daddy!!!

DARIA: (to Quinn) Shall we try for nine?



DARIA is putting her green jacket on over a black T-shirt
and jeans. She takes the jacket off, puts it on again, takes
it off, and sighs.

The doorbell rings.

DARIA goes to the door of her room.

DARIA: (loudly) If that’s Jane, tell her I’ll be down in a minute!


HELEN and JAKE are on the couch, surrounded by papers.
QUINN, a phone cinched between her ear and shoulder, answers
the door. TRENT is standing outside, dressed in black jeans
with no holes and a green buttoned shirt.

TRENT: Hi. I’m here for Daria.

QUINN’s expression: total shock. At the sound of TRENT’s
voice, HELEN turns to see him and drops her pencil. HELEN
stands up.

TRENT looks skeptically at HELEN and QUINN.

TRENT: Am I at the wrong house?

HELEN recovers.

HELEN: Not at all! Daria will be down in a few minutes. Come in, sit

TRENT: Thanks.

TRENT steps inside. QUINN almost staggers back.

PHONE: (Male voice) Quinn? Quinn, are you there?

QUINN: Matthew… I’ll have to call you back.

QUINN hangs up the phone and stares.

HELEN: (Practically grabbing TRENT’s arm and dragging him to the
chair in the LIVING ROOM) You must be—

TRENT: Trent. Janey’s my sister.

HELEN: Ah! I thought Daria was going out with Jane tonight.

TRENT: Janey’s coming along too.

There’s an awkward pause. QUINN is still gawking at TRENT.
Even JAKE looks up and notices him.

HELEN: Daria mentioned that you’d had a, ah, career opportunity
recently. Congratulations.

TRENT: Thanks.

JAKE: (Trying to be "hip") What line are you in, my man?

TRENT: (With a smirk) I guess you’d say I’m in the entertainment

HELEN: There’re plenty of opportunities there! Can I get you
something to drink, Trent?

TRENT: I’m okay.

JAKE: I don’t want to seem square, dude, but… we’d like Daria to be
home by—

HELEN: Midnight.

QUINN: What?!?

TRENT: No problem.

DARIA comes down the stairs, wearing her usual outfit. Her
eyes widen when she sees TRENT.

TRENT: You ready, Daria?

DARIA: Uh. Yeah.

TRENT: Well, come on, Cinderella, we’ve only got until midnight. See
you, Mr. Morgendorffer. Mrs. Morgendorffer.

HELEN: Please! Helen, Jake. Have a good time, kids.



TRENT: Are those pod people your family, or your science project?

DARIA: Much as I hate to admit it, those are my kinfolk. Where’s

TRENT: She’s still getting ready. Told me to come on over and pick
you up.

DARIA: (Grumbling) I bet she did.


DARIA: Uh— I’m glad you did. What’s this about coming home by
midnight? My curfew’s eleven.

TRENT: Your mom said midnight.

DARIA: (Realization dawns.) Uh-oh.

They get into TRENT’S CAR.


HELEN: So that’s what’s been going on.

JAKE: What’s that, honey?

HELEN: Isn’t it obvious? Daria must be dating that Trent boy. She’s
been trying to hide it from us because he’s older than she is, and
she didn’t think we’d approve. He’s probably in this band they’re
going to see.

QUINN: In a band?!

JAKE: I thought he said—

HELEN: Really, Jake. The entertainment industry? Don’t you remember
telling my father something like that, back when you were trying to
write music and start folk-singing?

JAKE: Yeah, I guess I did. (He smirks devilishly.) I sure pulled one
over on the old easy chair that time… Wait a minute! (Protective Dad
emerges.) How old is this Trent character, anyway?

HELEN: Twenty.

JAKE: Twenty!

QUINN: (wails) Twenty!

HELEN: Relax, Jake. Daria’s friend Jane is going with them. And
Daria can take care of herself.

QUINN: How come Daria can go out with a twenty-year-old guy and stay
out until midnight, and I can only date high-schoolers and I have to
be home by ten?!?

HELEN: Quinn, there have been plenty of times when we’ve let you go
out and Daria’s stayed home. Don’t begrudge your sister a chance to
have a little fun.

QUINN: This is so unfair!

HELEN: Daria’s proven she’s responsible enough to handle a little
additional freedom. Quinn, when you bring your grades up, we’ll

QUINN: You don’t understand! If Daria’s actually going out with an
older guy who’s a musician, she’s dating someone cooler any of the
guys who ask me out! And that would make Daria— I can’t even say it!

JAKE: Make Daria what, kiddo?

QUINN: (Anguished) That would make Daria cooler than me! I can’t
STAND it! What if someone found out? What if it got around school?
Everyone would point at me in the streets and whisper, "Look, there
goes that girl who isn’t even as cool as her brainy, boring older
sister!" I might as well just lay down and die!

The doorbell rings.

QUINN instantly reverts to normal.

QUINN: That’s my date! Gotta go!

CUT TO clip of the Morgendorffers reacting with shock to

CUT TO commercial.


DARIA and TRENT stand by the car as JANE comes out of the

DARIA: Nice ensemble, Jane. No wonder it took you so long to put

JANE looks down at her outfit— the same thing she always

JANE: Dress for success, that’s what I always say. Seems like
Trent’s taken my advice to heart, too. What’s this, big brother, not
a hole or a tear to be seen?

TRENT: It’s from the bottom of my closet. It’s the only thing that
was clean.

JANE leans toward him, sniffs.

JANE: Sure about that?

TRENT frowns at JANE, glancing at DARIA, who was staring at
TRENT and quickly averts her eyes.

TRENT: C’mon, we still have to pick up Jesse.

The three get into the car. There’s a bit of shuffling as
JANE tries to push DARIA into the front seat next to TRENT;
DARIA adroitly slips past JANE so that JANE falls into the
back seat and DARIA quickly follows.


TRENT’s friend JESSE gets into the shotgun seat.

JESSE: Are you psyched about tonight, man?

TRENT: I’ve made my peace with the gods of music. I’m ready.

JESSE: So does that mean you’ve finally learned the open D tuning?

TRENT: You’re disturbing my peace, man.

JANE: That’s an arrestable offense. Daria! Get the cuffs.

TRENT: I gotta admit, I’m kind of weirded out.

JESSE: Yeah, it’s gonna be strange to watch you up there playing
with some other band.

JANE: It’s gonna be strange to watch him playing.

DARIA: (Quietly, but dangerously) Don’t worry, Jane, I’m sure you’ll
be too busy watching Jesse to notice anything amiss.

JANE: Defensive! Always a good sign.

TRENT: It’s not just the gig. It’s the whole day. Like, I actually
woke up before noon.

JESSE: Whoa.

TRENT: Yeah. And like Daria’s family.

DARIA: What about them?

TRENT: It’s just freaky that you even have a family, Daria.

DARIA: Okay, I’ll concede to that one.

TRENT: And they’re so-- typical. Are you adopted?

DARIA: I can only hope.

JANE: Daria sprang fully formed from the froth of the ocean. She’s
just living with the Morgendorffers until her godhood kicks in.

TRENT: I thought the goddess of wisdom came out of someone’s head.

DARIA: Right. Athena emerged from the skull of Zeus.

JANE: Sure. But Aphrodite came out of the sea.

DARIA gives JANE a look of death.

TRENT: Which goddess was she?

JANE: Goddess of—

DARIA: Dolphin-safe tuna fish.

TRENT and JESSE laugh.

DARIA: (whispering to JANE) Lay off the yenta act. I’ve got enough
trouble with that already.

JANE: What’re you talking about?

DARIA: Later.

INT – Oscar’s Coffeehouse – EVENING

Artsy, crunchy coffee house with weird art everywhere and a
slightly raised platform for a stage. The customers look
basically like the college students from "College Bored",
with a few more piercings & the like visible. Trails of
smoke thread the atmosphere.

TRENT and JESSE carry equipment to the stage. JANE and DARIA
secure a table and sit down. DARIA picks up a menu and looks

JANE glances around the place.

JANE: Great decorating. Early Bohemian Poverty.

DARIA: (Reacting to the menu) Three dollars for a cup of coffee?
Bohemian poverty’s too rich for me.

JANE: You can’t be Bohemian. You’re not wearing Birkenstocks.
Anyway, you said you’d tell me what you meant about matchmaking
later. It’s later.

DARIA: My mom wanted me to see her therapist to find out why I’m not
dating anyone.

JANE: Blame it on your toilet training. Shrinks eat that stuff up.
Uh— so to speak.

DARIA: It gets worse. My curfew’s supposed to be eleven. But Mom
told Trent I can stay out til midnight.

JANE: How could she!

DARIA: Jane, she probably thinks I’m dating Trent.

JANE: You kind of are on a date with Trent.

DARIA: This isn’t a date!

JANE: Daria, it’s so close to being a date that you might as well
just go ahead and call it a date. I consider it a date.

DARIA: Yeah, but Jesse actually knows you exist. And your mother
isn’t going to interrogate you about the situation with a truncheon
and a rubber hose.

JANE: No, but with any luck maybe Jesse will…

DARIA: What am I going to do? If I tell her I’m not dating Trent,
I’ll have to see her therapist, and they’ll probably dissect my head
to figure out why I’m not going out with him.

JANE: Option one sounds grim.

DARIA: If I lie to her and tell her I went out with Trent, I won’t
have to see her therapist. But I would have to make up a fictional
history of dating Trent to satisfy Mom’s curiosity. I’m not sure I
could stand that, either.

JANE: It’s like making a wish when you blow out the candles, right?
If you tell someone what you wished for, it won’t happen.

DARIA: Jane. Shut up or I’ll kill you.

JANE: Touchy and defensive! Two whole emotions in one night. Shall
we try for three?

DARIA: Next up, homicidal rage.

JANE: Promises, promises.

JESSE sits down at the table.

JESSE: Man, this is seriously strange. All these people just sitting

JANE: They’re called an "audience", Jesse.

JESSE: Trent’s gonna be way nervous when the show starts. I just
hope he doesn’t puke or anything. He’s wearing my jeans.

A puff of smoke drifts in front of DARIA, who coughs.

JANE: How’d he end up in your jeans?

JESSE: Borrowed ‘em. All his have holes. He was even thinking about
maybe shaving.

JANE: Wow. He is nervous.

JESSE: I talked him out of it.

JANE lays a hand on JESSE’s arm. Her next line is only

JANE: He’s lucky to have a friend like you.

JESSE: Well, you know. All for one. Eyes on the prize and all.
Trent’s the one with the vision.

JANE: (to DARIA, with affection for JESSE evident.) The blind
leading the tone-deaf.

The room has gradually thickened with people and with smoke.

DARIA: (waving away a cloud of smoke) Is there a no-smoking section
anywhere in this place?

JANE: Not a chance.

A guitar chord rings out. There’s some applause. FARLEY, the
lead singer of the Slushpuppies, talks into the mike.

FARLEY: Hi everybody. We’re the Slushpuppies (more applause) and
we’re going to be playing some of our new stuff for you tonight.
This first song is called "Planted by the Sun".

The band starts to play— very guitar-heavy, Led Zeppelin

We CLOSE UP on TRENT, who’s playing basic chords and
starting to look panicky. FARLEY looks back at him
questioningly; it seems like there’s supposed to be a guitar
solo opening this song.

CUT TO DARIA, biting her lip, chin resting on clasped hands,
leaning forward anxiously.

BACK TO TRENT, who’s seriously starting to sweat. He looks
out as he repeats the chords.

CUT TO TRENT’S POV: Scan of the crowd, focussing in on
DARIA. She’s making a gesture with one hand.

CUT TO CLOSE UP of DARIA: she’s letting her fingers do the
walking up an imaginary staircase.

CUT TO a shot of TRENT starting to grin; he bends his head
over the guitar and starts blending "Stairway to Heaven"
into the music.

WE SEE the crowd reacting with delight at the familiar tune.
Applause and wolf whistles nearly drown out the music.

FARLEY is nodding and smiling. He turns around a gives TRENT
a big thumb’s-up.

FARLEY: Cool! Let’s jam.


It’s obviously much later. The air is dim with smoke.

FARLEY: Thanks everybody— you’ve been a great crowd. Hey, how about
a hand for our guest guitarist. From Mystic Spiral in Lawndale:
Trent Lane!

Applause. WE SEE the room of crowded tables, with DARIA,
JANE and JESSE among them. DARIA is wincing with one hand
over her mouth to screen out smoke, but when TRENT’s name is
called, she claps loudly.

Onstage, TRENT waves.

BACK TO DARIA’s table, widening the shot to include the next
table as well. Four college-age girls are sitting together,
all in grungy/punky attire and holding cigarettes.

BLUE GIRL: Wow, he’s totally cute.

GREEN GIRL: Utterly. I wouldn’t mind making him breakfast.

RED GIRL: You go, girl. Gonna give him your number?

GREEN GIRL: Who’s got a pen?

BACK TO DARIA and JANE, who’ve heard every word. DARIA has
one hand over her mouth and nose again and looks miserable.

FARLEY: We’re the Slushpuppies— good night!

JESSE: Time to help pack up. Hang tight.

JESSE goes to the stage. WE FOLLOW him and SEE the small
crowd of girls hanging around the stage as the band packs
up. The punky girls from the next table join the crowd. The
GREEN GIRL approaches TRENT while the RED GIRL starts
talking to JESSE.

JANE: We should have called it a date when we had the chance.

BACK TO the stage. The GREEN GIRL gives TRENT her phone
number on a slip of paper. He smiles and puts it in his
pocket, nodding.

CUT TO DARIA and JANE looking glum at the table. DARIA
sniffs audibly. Her eyes look suspiciously watery.

JANE looks at her, stunned.

JANE: Uhm, are you okay?

DARIA: It’s the smoke.

JANE: Hey. It’s all right.

DARIA starts coughing, hard.

JANE: Come on. Let’s go out to the car and get some air.


DARIA and JANE stand by TRENT’s CAR. DARIA has a tissue in
front of her face.

JANE: Okay now?

DARIA: (muffled) I’m allergic to that much cigarette smoke.

JANE: And you put up with it for the whole show? Wow. Now that’s

DARIA glares at JANE.

DARIA: If I could breathe, I would hurt you.

TRENT and JESSE stroll into the frame, carrying equipment.

TRENT: Comin’ through. Jane, could you get the trunk?

TRENT digs keys out of his pocket and hands them to JANE. A
couple of scraps of paper fall from his pocket to the

DARIA stoops and picks up the scraps. WE SEE they’re both
female names and phone numbers. She gives her next line with
a flat tone that makes her usual deadpan delivery seem
positively chipper by comparison.

DARIA: You dropped these.

TRENT closes the trunk and takes the numbers.

TRENT: Hey Jesse, it’s time for the ceremonial flame.

JESSE: Hang on, I got one too. (He digs in his pockets.)

TRENT: You don’t have to sacrifice it. You weren’t playing.

JESSE: Yeah, but she thought I was with the band.

JANE: What are you two talking about?

JESSE: We don’t keep numbers from girls who just give them to us
because we’re in a band. It’s Trent’s idea.

TRENT: We’re not just going to be another garage band that plays
bars to get girls. Besides, if they’re willing to give out their
phone numbers to a total stranger who happens to play guitar,
they’re probably not the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree.

JESSE flicks a lighter; the two of them hold the scraps of
paper over the flame, then drop them. They burn on the

JANE: Better get in the car, Daria, if you’re allergic to smoke.

DARIA: This smoke I don’t mind.

DARIA breathes deeply and almost smiles.

TRENT: (Mostly to DARIA) We’ve still got plenty of time before we
need to get back to Lawndale. Wanna go out for some coffee that you
don’t have to buy by the ounce?

JESSE: (Mostly to JANE) Yeah, we can head over to Derry’s and,
y’know, hang out.

JANE and DARIA look at each other, smiling slightly.

JANE: We’re back in business.


DARIA, HELEN, JAKE, and QUINN have breakfast.

QUINN: And then he fell asleep before the dancing even started! And
after intermission, he started to snore! It was totally

HELEN: That’s terrible, Quinn.

QUINN: But, I met like three other really good-looking guys while I
was there, so I guess it wasn’t a total loss.

HELEN: How about you, Daria?


HELEN: How was your… date?

CUT TO DARIA’S POV. The other three are looking at her,
waiting. There’s an expectant pause.

ANGLE ON DARIA as she shrugs.

DARIA: It was okay.

DARIA looks down at her plate. The rest of the family
exchange wide-eyed glances. QUINN looks desolate.

QUINN: (to herself) Well, I’m sure there’s something wrong with him.
He can’t possibly be that cool if he went out with her.

HELEN: I don’t suppose we need to see Dr. Walthrop after all.

JAKE looks around, seeming to realize that something
significant has occurred, though of course, he has no idea
what's going on. JAKE puts his hand over DARIA’s.

JAKE: We’re very proud of you, honey.

DARIA looks at her family.

DARIA: Admit it. I am adopted.