Daria: Is It Fall Yet? Page #6

---

I promise not to kick you out of bed in the morning. Well, unless you're snoring.

Thanks, but I... oh, God.

What's the matter? I'm not your type?

Um, Alison... I'm straight.

Yeah, right. I don't think so.

I'm not gay.

Where have I heard that before? Wait a minute. Is this your first time with a

girl? Well, no wonder you're nervous.

Alison... read my lips. I like guys.

And hanging out with bisexuals in their bedrooms after they buy you dinner.

Hey, I didn't know you were bi. And the dinner thing was settling a bet.

Sure... settling a bet. I'm sorry, baby, but I never hit on straight chicks.

Listen, you've been really nice to me and all, and I really appreciate it, but

I'm not interested in women.

You mean you're not ready to admit it.

I gotta go.

Eep!

Man, it's hard to see out of this thing.

Kevvy, this is terrible! That icky pool water is turning my hair green!

Wow, you really do have green hair. Green hair, green hair!

Kevvy, it's not funny!

Ho-ho-ho! It's the jolly green babe.

Ooh...

Ho-ho-ho! Green babe. Ow!

You big jerk!

You two mess up one more time and you're fired.

Now, everyone hold the hand of the person next to them while we all visualize

the same word:
"trust."

But we've been sitting inside all day. Can't we go out and play? Please?

Now, Curtis, we're listening to our souls. It's much easier to hear them indoors.

Uncle Anthony, can't you talk to him?

You're such a great counselor.

Um, Uncle Timothy... perhaps little Curtis has a point. Maybe frolicking

outdoors would offer a refreshing counterpoint to sitting in a circle like a

quilting bee of shut-ins!

Anthony, please. You're supposed to be setting an example. Besides, quilting can

be very therapeutic. Now... oops. Time for my Echinacea. I'll be back in a

jiffy. Now everyone, hold hands and feel the warmth.

Peanut butter! Sitting in circles... stupid songs... arts and crafts...

cruel and unusual... hell! I can't take it anymore!

I'm going on a hike!

Come on. Even I'll admit that was mildly amusing.

Whatever.

Look, for what it's worth, when I was your age, I, um... had this friend who was

kind of like you. The only people she liked were the ones in books, and she

spent most of her time in her room convinced the world had been quietly taken

over by a race of idiot space aliens.

And then one day your "friend" grew out of it and went on to make many more

friends, and now her life is one big bowl of cherries.

Okay. Bad example. But maybe things would have been a little easier for my

friend if she hadn't kept everything bottled up inside. You know, if she'd had

someone to talk to.

Or maybe "she" did try talking, and the people just told her to shut up, or paid

someone else to deal with her because they were too busy "listening to their souls."

You think that's what's happening to you?

Hey, look around, Daria. Everybody's so busy being their own best friend, maybe

they should try buddying up to the people they brought into the damn world, who

never asked to be born.

Oh.

So, what books does your "friend" like to read, anyway?

Well, let's see. When she was 12, she was really into George Orwell...

Daria! Link! Having a little one-on-one session?

Yes, and so by definition, it can't include...

Daria, I knew you could do it. See? It's easier to "rap" with Daria than with

me, isn't it? A teen who's closer to your own age. But I'm just as concerned as

she is about your well-being.

I should have known.

Hey, wait...

Oh. Did I say something wrong? Oh, my. What happened to the window? Um...

where'd everybody go?

But when the workers stormed the Bastille, they only found seven prisoners, and

one of them was the Marquis de Sade.

Eww.

That's more or less the way they felt.

Did Marie Antoinette really have the champagne glasses molded after her... you know?

We really should be focusing more on the politics of the Revolution, but that's

what they say. If she'd been a different body type, we'd be drinking champagne

out of bowls.

David, I must say I'm quite impressed. I've never seen Quinn have so much fun studying.

That's because in school they only teach you the really boring stuff. Mom? Dad?

Did you know Marie Antoinette never said "let them eat cake?" That expression

comes from a story about a princess, written by Rousseau. Right?

Right.

Lousy tabloids.

We've got to run. Bye.

Wait... um, I was joking.

You were not.

I know.

Was Marie Antoinette pretty?

They said she was a great beauty. Of course, you won't find a lot of people

willing to call their absolute monarch butt-ugly.

David, do you think... I'm pretty?

Sure.

By the way, have you been to Chez Pierre? Because it's really nice if you ever

wanted to take me there. And it would be kind of educational, since we're

studying French history and stuff.

Thanks, but you don't want to be seen around town with an egghead. Your friends

would behead you. Well, that's about it for today. Now, be sure to read the

chapter on the Industrial Revolution, and don't forget your vocabulary words.

I'll be back for more pedagogy next week. Quinn? Pedagogy? That's one of the words.

Yeah. Pedagogy.

Excellent. The brushwork is very confident, and I love the strained, almost

antagonistic relationship with color. Really, you remind me of myself when I was young.

Oh, Daniel. You're not old.

Well, I'm certainly young... at heart.

Not to mention delusional of mind.

Hey.

Hey.

Haven't seen you around.

Oh, you know, the solitary artist. Look, I gotta be honest. That whole thing

that happened between -- I mean, didn't happen -- well, it kind of confused me.

Me, too. Maybe I was hoping a little too hard and saw something that wasn't there.

But you said you never make a mistake in that, um... area.

There's a first time for everything. Still want to be friends?

Sure.

Um, maybe we'll skip the hug.

Uh-oh... don't look now, but it's Toulouse le Dreck.

Ready?

Just a minute.

I'll wait for you in the car.

You're seeing him?

He's not so bad once you get to know him.

You said he went through more students than tubes of paint. You can't possibly

think he gives a damn about you.

Who's looking for romance? I just want to have a little fun.

And if it's with someone who can introduce you to a few gallery owners, that's

not so bad either, eh? I think I'm beginning to see how the art world works.

God, high school. It's all such a big deal with you guys. You take everything so seriously.

Like someone telling you you give off gay vibes just because they're trying to

get into your pants.

Well, campers, before you go, let's take a moment to reflect on the valuable

lessons we've learned about ours...

Let Uncle Anthony talk!

... um, about ourselves and the growth that only we can...

Uncle Anthony! He's cool!

... um, the personal growth that...

Growth my butt! Uncle Anthony!

Thank you, campers. Remember: if you feel yourself getting mad, go ahead!

If someone's doing something to irritate you, tell them about it in detail!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes