SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer residence, late morning)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Quinn standing in the kitchen, fishing a box of super-healthy bran flakes out of the cupboard. Just as she's getting a bowl, we see Daria walk past her to the sink, phone in one hand, plate of cake crumbs in the other.)
QUINN: (eyeing the plate with disgust) Cake for breakfast again?? Can't you eat something healthy??
DARIA: I did. (lays her plate in the sink.) It's low-fat cake.
QUINN: You're gonna end up like one of those blob people who can't do anything but sit in bed and watch T.V. all day.
DARIA: At least that'd give me an excuse.
QUINN: (smirks) If Mom saw you, you'd be in so much trouble.
DARIA: Mom's not here.
QUINN: This time.
DARIA: No, I mean she's not here. Not here in town. (glances down at the phone.) She called while you were in the shower.
QUINN: (surprised) Where is she?
DARIA: At Amy's.
QUINN: Why? Is Aunt Amy sick, or something?
DARIA: (cocking a skeptical brow) Possibly. According to Mom, some crisis of Amy's compelled her to abandon work and drive up to be with her.
QUINN: Sounds bad: she's never done that for us.
DARIA: (as though her thoughts are elsewhere) Right.
QUINN: I hope Amy's not having more problems with that Joel. Stacy told me she heard you could get so depressed after fighting with a guy, you only eat ice cream and wear the same baggy clothes.
DARIA: Once again, you've failed to illustrate the downside.
QUINN: So if Mom's with Aunt Amy and Dad's not around... I guess you and I are by ourselves again. (Her face loses some of its glow.)
(Daria looks at her, and something in Quinn's expression causes her to think of something. She glances down at the phone again.)
DARIA: Hold that thought: I'll be right back.
(Daria heads upstairs with the phone. Quinn gets a look of abandonment.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 2 (Amy's place, at that time)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Amy standing in front of a closet near the front door, trying to decide which coat to select. Helen walks over, tugging on the blazer Amy'd lent her, having ended the phone call with Daria minutes earlier.)
AMY: (cocking a brow) You lied to your own child.
HELEN: (ashamed, but resolute) Well I already lied to her once. No harm in finishing what I started.
AMY: But you painted me to look like the basket case. How fair is that?
HELEN: So you'd rather I tell her the truth: that her mom "lost it" and ran up to see you? She'd never let me forget it.
AMY: You're giving Daria too little credit.
HELEN: Once when I was weak with the flu, she got me to agree to never make her join an activity without a minimum bribe of thirty dollars. I even signed on it.
AMY: (smirks) Clever girl. But surely she'd know this is different.
HELEN: (quiet) I just don't want her to know. Any of them. (lowers her eyes.) They depend on me so much, I wouldn't want to give them reason to worry.
(Amy cocks a brow with mild sympathy. Before she can say any more, we hear a musical ring in the next room.)
JOEL: (walking on screen, buttoning his cuffs) Ame, isn't that your work cell?
AMY: Yes. (sour look.) Tell people you don't want weekend calls and they'll think you're using reverse psychology. Hold on.
(She leaves. Cut to shot of her moments later in her bedroom, picking up a cell phone which was lying carelessly on a chair and putting it to her ear.)
AMY: (deadpan) You've reached Papa Risotto's Pizza Delivery Service, proudly roach-free for seven months. How may I help you? DARIA: (VO) You could start by not mentioning food hygiene.
AMY: (surprised, but reacts quickly) Not even the flies in our secret sauce?
(Split screen to show Daria turning green on the other end.)
AMY: So how'd you find my secret number?
DARIA: You left it for me in case of an emergency. This seemed like the right occasion.
AMY: Household a wreck without Mom?
DARIA: So my mom is with you?
AMY: Yes. (Bt., surprised by her niece's question.) But if you want her back, I'll accept nothing less than ten thousand in small unmarked bills.
DARIA: (can't think of a comeback) Was she with you last night?
AMY: Why do you ask?
DARIA: She wasn't at her office. Something Jane said made me check her work phone... a few times. (reddens.) When she didn't answer, I thought...
(Beat)
AMY: (gentle) She showed up here late last night. As far as I know, she never stopped anywhere else.
(Daria exhales silently.)
DARIA: Well that's nice to hear. (awkward.) So I guess I'll just go skipping off into the sunset. Sorry to bother you...
AMY: (gently pressing) Daria? Is there anything I should know about?
(Pause. Daria considers how much to tell Amy about the mood around her house over the past month, whether to go over her various speculations. Finally she reduces her concerns to their barest form.)
DARIA: Just that my parents haven't exactly been getting along. (Bt) Not even enough to argue like they usually do.
AMY: (frowning mildly) I see.
(Beat)
DARIA: Aunt Amy? You'll keep Mom from doing anything... she might regret... won't you?
(Pause)
AMY: (softly) You can count on it.
(Cut to full-screened shot of Daria, shortly after the phone call. She gazes at the phone with a faintly reassured expression. Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice off screen.)
JAKE: (VO) Gah! We're out of Sugared O's!
(Daria swivels around to face the door and hops off the bed. Quickly, she leaves the room and heads downstairs.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 3 (kitchen)
(Cut to shot of Quinn seated at the counter, eating her cereal slowly. Her eyes are on Jake, off screen. Daria comes up and stands beside her. Pan to show Jake rummaging through the cupboard in search of edible cereal, dressed in a rumpled T-shirt and jeans... possibly last night's outfit. Cut to shot of Daria and Quinn. They glance at each other, silently communicating disturbed thoughts. Cut to shot of Jake. He pauses on Quinn's box of health cereal, shakes it slightly to see how full it is, then slides it back into the cupboard as if he'd never seen it.)
JAKE: (goes over to the fridge) Dammit, there's not one lousy stinking thing to eat in this whole house! (opens the fridge door.) Ooh, cake!
DARIA: It does a body good.
(Jake takes the box out, glances around uneasily.)
JAKE: What your mother doesn't know won't hurt her. You girls won't tell, will you?
(Again, Daria and Quinn look at each other, bothered by their father's choice of words.)
QUINN: Actually, Dad --
(She's quickly silenced by Daria, who feels it's the wrong time to mention that Helen has gone away.)
DARIA: (different tactic) I think she might be more concerned with you breaking curfew, young man.
JAKE: (distressed) Aww, but I told her before we left for work that I was gonna be out late last night! Don't tell me she forgot.
DARIA: Um, you could say that.
QUINN: (annoyed) You've been out, like, a lot lately.
DARIA: Does this secret other family of yours make you change light bulbs into the wee hours of night?
JAKE: (face bright red) "Other" family?? Wh-what do you mean??
QUINN: She's kidding, Dad. (Bt) I think?
JAKE: Oh yeah. (chuckles uneasily.) Good one, kiddo.
DARIA: (deadpan) Thanks. (Bt) So if it's not another family, what is making you burn the midnight oil?
JAKE: (face lights up) Oh man, all kinds of stuff! I haven't felt so alive since I was back in college. You girls would love it!
QUINN: Would you take us??
JAKE: Well su-- (His face falls, as if he's remembering something.) Um, actually, I don't think it'd be your thing.
QUINN: But you just said --
JAKE: C'mon you guys (chuckles.) you never want to hang out with your old man. You're always busy with dates and T.V. and stuff.
DARIA: (quietly acknowledging this) We'd make an exception in this case.
JAKE: And Quinn, sweetie, don't you have that important math thing coming up?
QUINN: The Advanced Placement test? But that's weeks away.
JAKE: (uncomfortable) Well, um... no time to study like the present.
DARIA: Dad, has it escaped your attention? We just offered to spend time with you. As in voluntarily.
QUINN: (turning on the guilt-trip charm) Don't you want to enjoy the last fleeting moments of daddy-daughter bonding before Daria and I, like, head off into the sunset of college?
DARIA: Or the penitentiary.
JAKE: (guilty, yielding) Aw geez... you're right. I should spend more time with you guys. (Bt) Maybe you could hang with me when I do the weeding this afternoon.
QUINN: Ewww, Dad! Not chores!
JAKE: (confused) But you said --
DARIA: (cutting to the gist) What would be so bad about us coming with you on one of your outings?
(She and Quinn both tensely wait for a response.)
JAKE: (reddening) I'd like to, girls, I really would. (lays the now-empty cake box on the counter.) But... aw, I just can't! (distressed.) I don't think you'd ever understand, and you'd be way too mad at me, anyway. (lowers his head and walks away.) I'm sorry.
(When he's gone, Quinn gets a look that verges on panic.)
QUINN: He didn't even ask where Mom was. It's like he doesn't even care.
DARIA: (more calm, but still alarmed) Now, now. Let's not jump to any conclusions.
QUINN: (face falling) Okay. (Pause) So what do we do now?
(Beat)
DARIA: I'm going to call Jane.
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 4 (a fancy restaurant, noon)
(Shot of a tall building with reflecting walls. Slow zoom in on the top floor. Cut to wide shot of the interior, showing several tables with fancy white cloths and nicely-dressed people seated at them, against the backdrop of a panoramic view of the city. Light piano music plays in the background. Cut to close-up of a waiter at one table, pouring coffee. He nearly spills it as the piano player suddenly hits several discordant notes all at once. Cut to another table. The people pause in the midst of eating their brunch as the piano player launches into a rendition of Queen's "We Are the Champions." Cut to shot of Amy and Helen, seated across from each other at a table near the window. Amy calmly sips a mimosa, while Helen glances off screen, blushing with mortification.)
AMY: So did I mention that Joel's a talented musician?
(Cut to shot of him seated at a grand piano not far away, plunking away at the keys with a lot of gusto, often striking the wrong ones.)
AMY: (off screen) Just not on the piano.
(Cut to shot of a waiter heading over to the maitre d', then whispering and looking at Joel with a menacing expression. Cut to shot of Amy and Helen, moments later. Amy smirks with amusement and sympathy as her boyfriend appears, looking his best to seem nonchalant.)
JOEL: (sitting down) That should teach 'em to hold up our orders.
AMY: Mr. Perfect couldn't master the piano keys in five minutes' time? I'm disappointed.
JOEL: (sheepish) I swear they tuned that thing all wrong. (looks at Helen, smirks.) Geez, I'm an engineer, jazz clarinetist, conqueror of all two hundred levels of Internet Dragon Slayer, an interpreter of animal sounds --
AMY: And modest, too.
JOEL: -- and it still isn't enough. You can't please this woman. (Amy reaches into her purse and takes out a twenty, which she slips him as she leans over to give him a smooch on the lips. They'd made a bet, and she'd lost. Helen looks as though she'd like to melt into her seat.)
HELEN: (irritated, but can't hide a touch of amusement) You two make me feel like I'm out with my daughters.
AMY: Funny: I thought Daria and Quinn would be more mature.
HELEN: Does it even worry you that we might get thrown out?
AMY: We won't, Helen, trust me. They know us here.
HELEN: (rolling her eyes) And I suppose you'll tell me you've pulled these stunts before and nothing's come of it.
AMY: Well if you mean the same stunts...
JOEL: Only when we've been treated rudely. When threatening to not pay has no effect on them.
AMY: When they have the gall to charge ten dollars for a plate of raw asparagus.
JOEL: So about... (furrows his brow.) all but two times.
HELEN: Then why even come?
AMY: (incredulous) Are you kidding? (turns toward the window.) Would you look at the view??
(Helen groans and shakes her head. Joel looks meaningfully at Amy.)
JOEL: Change of subject?
AMY: Go for it.
JOEL: (leaning back, smirking) So what do mature women like yourself do for fun, Helen?
HELEN: (face lighting up) Oh many things. Especially -- (Inexplicably, her face loses its glow.) um... nothing.
(Joel cocks a quizzical eyebrow and glances at Amy.)
AMY: (gently prodding) You like sculpting, don't you?
HELEN: I used to. (a little curt.) But not anymore.
(Amy raises a brow at her tone, then glances at Joel, who makes another attempt.)
JOEL: Yeah, some people get all the pleasure they need from their jobs. Amy told me you're one hell of a lawyer.
HELEN: How sweet of her. (She smiles faintly at her sister, then her expression darkens into gloom once more.)
(Joel shakes his head at Amy: "All right, now what??" "Damned if I know," her expression replies. Amy realizes she needs to confront what's bothering Helen, but now is not the time or place. As the waiter appears with their food, Joel gets another thought.)
JOEL: All righty... (He spears his eggs and glances back and forth between Helen and his significant other.) Now that I've finally got more than one Barksdale sister here, I'm dying for answers to the many questions I have.
(This shakes Helen out of her funk. With a hint of surprise and bemusement, she looks at Amy. Amy wiggles her brows.)
AMY: Think we should indulge him?
HELEN: If his questions get too personal, we'll plead the Fifth.
JOEL: Amy's shown me photo albums of when you guys were young. So it's always been you three girls, right?
HELEN: Yes.
AMY: There was a fourth sister, but she broke with us over creative differences.
JOEL: (knowing half-smirk) Was Amy really the lonely, neglected waif growing up that she makes herself out to be?
(Amy rolls her eyes, a little annoyed by his choice of words.)
HELEN: She certainly wasn't. The age difference may have contributed to her feeling left out, but she was no worse off than me or Rita. (pointedly.) In fact, I'd say she had a few things better.
AMY: Ooh, do tell.
HELEN: At least when she couldn't drive, she could always snap her fingers and one of us would chauffeur her around.
AMY: Usually to someplace I didn't want to go.
HELEN: She had a nice, normal childhood -- yes, you did -- in a quiet suburb with her whole family intact. She wasn't shuffled off to four new locations in six years where she had to make friends quickly if she wanted any at all.
JOEL: That'd be no problem for you, right Ame?
AMY: Wherever I go, popularity follows.
HELEN: In that atmosphere, developing the right networking skills was essential. And she didn't have to hover about her mailbox or the phone waiting for some word from our father stationed overseas.
AMY: (shadow on her face) Nope. I had to deal with him at home.
JOEL: (to Helen) How often was he away?
HELEN: A lot. (hint of pride.) Dad was a very important man in the armed services. They'd keep him abroad for months at a time, first in post-war Germany, then in Korea. There were a couple of years when we were lucky to see him for even a few months.
AMY: Amazing he found time to sire his young.
HELEN: (raising a brow at her) But at least he never forced us to relocate to another country. God knows how disruptive that would have been. Right before Amy was born, he retired from the army for good.
AMY: To embrace his true love: aluminum siding.
HELEN: Our family business, which he ran very successfully.
AMY: (hushed) But not enough to forget what he gave up.
HELEN: (to Joel) And so these early experiences explain why my family is so important to me, why I try to make time for them every evening. Because I remember what it was like to miss a parent and wonder when he'd be coming home -- (recalls her current situation.) I mean... I mean...
(Helen gazes down at her food, looking very distressed. Joel looks at her as though he's sorry he brought up the subject. Amy's expression changes from peevish to sympathetic, and she tries to think of a way to ease the tension.)
AMY: (smirk) All right, I plead "uncle." My childhood wasn't as overtly dysfunctional as Helen's was. (glances at Joel.) Or yours.
JOEL: So it was covertly dysfunctional?
AMY: By the time I came of age, it seemed like we'd been living in Rutherford forever. We all had our little routines down.
HELEN: (polishing off her mimosa) Routines?
AMY: You know. (cocks a brow.) Mother was the happy society matron with a million activities that she claimed were all of dire importance, but you know were just an excuse to keep her out of the kitchen.
(Helen lets out a little groan and looks at Joel as if to say, "What are we going to do with her?")
AMY: Dad worked twelve hour days and even longer weekends. Rita had a knack for strategy games like chess, but wisely never let it shine through her homecoming queen persona. And as for you, my dear Helen --
HELEN: (bemused) Yes, what was I, Amy darling? Overworked? Stressed-out by too many activities and too much responsibility? Don't think for one minute I don't know what you're going to say.
(Beat)
AMY: You were someone who always strove to be something she wasn't.
(Helen's eyes widen slightly; clearly she didn't expect that reply.)
JOEL: (bemused) What kind of something?
(Amy responds by tipping the last of her mimosa into her mouth.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 5 (Pizza King, afternoon)
(Shot of the outside. Zoom in on a sign in the window: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT.)
QUINN: (OS) You mean someone's actually DIED from eating here?!
(Cut to wide shot, where we see that Daria and Quinn are seated across from Jane in the booth. Jane groans and slaps her forehead.)
JANE: For the thousandth time, no!
DARIA: I told you we should go to the Flaming Chili Barn, but you just had to be adventurous.
(She picks up a slice and eyes it warily before nibbling at the edge. Quinn, of course, avoids it altogether.)
JANE: All right, we've established that you're beyond the point of denial, where your dad's extra-strange behavior could all be in your head. Correct? (Daria and Quinn nod slowly.) So what would be the harm in following him?
DARIA: Besides risking our necks in the dead of night for evidence that could be inconclusive at best.
QUINN: (emphatic) I won't go after midnight: cold night air is bad for the skin.
DARIA: (to Jane) Then sneaking out after midnight it is.
(This gets a smirk from Jane, but Quinn doesn't appreciate it. Her cheeks redden and her expression becomes irritated.)
JANE: So have you given this prior thought?
DARIA: Yes, but not seriously. I was too afraid of what I'd find.
QUINN: (face brightening) Daria, maybe we could ask the Guptys to help us again. It worked the last time.
DARIA: Well they have finally lifted that restraining order. But...
(The expression on her face is clear: "This isn't like the last time." Quinn picks it up and nods quietly.)
QUINN: Then maybe we should just ask Dad where he goes. Tell him it, like, hurts us that he keeps it a secret.
DARIA: Good idea. (deadpan.) Please Dad, tell us where you go. It hurts me when you keep it a secret.
(Jane erupts in a fit of chuckling.)
QUINN: (frowning) Fine. Forget I said anything. (She slumps against the back of the seat.)
JANE: Now, now, what's the worst thing that could happen if you did ask him?
DARIA: Nothing... except he would evade.
JANE: Even if you made your eyes all big and sweetie-poo?
DARIA: Then he'd want my head examined. (sighs.) I've given him every opportunity to 'fess up, and each time he's come close, something has stopped him.
JANE: Hey! Have you tried --
DARIA: His wallet is clean.
JANE: Damn.
DARIA: Following him is the only way to produce results, I guess. JANE: At least it'd be better than waiting for the other shoe to drop. (mischievous.) Be sure to go disguised.
DARIA: (nods) All I need is my trusty accordion and a pet monkey.
(Dissolve to sometime later. Daria and Jane have parted with Quinn, and are now walking up to the Lanes' front door.)
DARIA: Thanks for agreeing to meet with us.
JANE: Hey, I'm not so busy that I couldn't be there for you in your time of crisis. Tom would be, too, if his parents hadn't dragged him to some fundraiser.
DARIA: Thus the true reason you were free.
JANE: Oh come on, Daria, give me some credit. I felt really bad about skipping out on you the last time your parents had a marital split.
DARIA: And missing the Guptys' vacuous meddling had nothing to do with it, I'm sure.
JANE: This time I want to be there for all the dirt, dammit. (Her jovial mood dims somewhat as she opens the door.) Hey... I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your dad and the Greg thing sooner.
DARIA: (cocking an eyelid) At least you waited until Quinn was gone.
JANE: (contrite) It's just that as far as I could tell, nothing ever went on between Greg and your mother. (quickly.) And telling you would've meant telling you I was volunteering at your mother's art class in the first place, and she just seemed so happy sculpting, I didn't have the heart to make fun of her, and --
DARIA: I get it, Brittany. (defensive.) And I wouldn't've made fun of her. Once the novelty wore off.
JANE: (softly) So, do you think the Greg thing is somehow connected?
(Beat)
DARIA: On the surface, it doesn't seem like it. Dad's the only one of my parents with the mysterious life. Unless it's a lot more twisted than it appears.
JANE: Dare we think?
DARIA: (rolling her eyes) Maybe my dad's having an affair with Greg.
(cut to: )
SCENE 6 (driving along, afternoon)
(Shot of the convertible traveling down a busy city street. Amy drives, while Joel rides shotgun and Helen sits in the back beside a clarinet case. Amy glances at Helen in the rear view mirror, and sees that her gloom has returned. She sighs inwardly.)
(Dissolve to sometime later. The car is parked in the lot of a grand civic center composed of shiny glass buildings and outdoor theatricals. In the central court yard, Helen sits on a grey cinder block, seemingly unmoved by clowns walking around her on stilts or a Middle Eastern folk band playing nearby. Amy and Joel sit off in a corner in an effort to avoid the crowd, observing.)
JOEL: (noting Amy's concerned look) We can't make her stay if she doesn't want to.
AMY: Who says I'm making her stay? She's the one who asked. (brow creases.) In all honesty, I think she's afraid to leave.
JOEL: But has yet to tell you why?
AMY: (nods slowly) I'll get it from her somehow. If she won't volunteer, I'll have to fire up my poker. (cocks a brow.) Besides, I made a promise.
JOEL: Promise?
AMY: To make sure she doesn't get into trouble. (lays a hand on her forehead.) God, it's like a fox promising to guard the hen house.
(Joel squeezes her other hand and checks his watch.)
JOEL: Damn, I'd better run. But while you hang out with your sister, you won't forget your own stuff will you?
AMY: (rolls her eyes) Oh, right.
JOEL: There's still time.
AMY: I know. (Cut to shot of Helen, staring at her cell phone like she feels she should use it, but doesn't have the will. Moments later, Amy walks over to her, alone.)
HELEN: Oh hi, Amy. (glances around.) Where did your boyfriend run off to?
AMY: He'd made a prior date with his friend to work on their jazz medley, so he's taking the subway over. We'll see him later.
HELEN: Oh. (Bt., uncomfortable) That wasn't the only prior commitment he'd made, was it?
AMY: No, but the one to jam with Louis Armstrong fell through.
HELEN: Amy, I'm serious. I keep feeling as though I've interfered with something. Two young, energetic people such as Joel and yourself must have made holiday weekend plans.
AMY: Wow: "young" and "energetic". I'm truly flattered. (brow furrows.) But trust me: if you were in the way of something important, I'd have directed you back onto the interstate hours ago.
HELEN: (relieved) All right.
(She and Amy head toward the car. As they do so, Helen cocks a knowing brow at her sister.)
HELEN: You know Amy, Joel doesn't come across in person the way you described him to be.
AMY: What do you mean?
HELEN: Controlling? Exacting? Intrusive??
AMY: Oh, that. (blushes a bit.)
HELEN: You two are on such a similar wavelength, you practically finish each other's sentences. Now what could be wrong with that? (quieter.) We should all be so lucky.
AMY: There's nothing wrong with that; that's part what's held our relationship together, even when everything else sucked.
HELEN: Things are better now, though, right?
AMY: (nodding) We still have our moments, but yeah. (Bt) Say, since it's just us girls, maybe we should go refurbish our wardrobes. (eyes Helen in her borrowed clothes.) You could do with a couple of sequined bras.
HELEN: (rolls her eyes) Or at least we can go someplace you want to go now.
AMY: (frowns) What makes you think I don't like being here?
HELEN: Every place we've been, you've seemed so detached, I just thought these were Joel's favorite spots.
AMY: I've seemed detached... (The color in her cheeks suggests that her sister's analysis is more accurate than she'd care to admit.) Well I do have spots that are nearer and dearer to my stone heart.
HELEN: Are we going to see them?
AMY: That depends: will you tell me what brought you to visit? (She and Helen seat themselves in the car.)
HELEN: I don't suppose you'd have told me about these special places if I hadn't asked?
AMY: Helen, we're alone. You don't have to be self-conscious.
HELEN: (closes her eyes) Oh Amy, we're not back at Square One, are we?
AMY: Asks the woman who hasn't answered my question.
HELEN: Please tell me you would have said something!
(Amy's eyes widen at her intensity.)
AMY: Okay.
HELEN: I'm sorry. It's just after the last two times we spent together, I've felt a lot closer to you then I have in a long time, maybe more than I ever have. It's as if we could finally speak to each other as adults.
AMY: (blushing faintly) Oh?
HELEN: And I'd hate it if any more secrecy or misunderstandings popped up to diminish that. So please... if there's anything you're holding back, if any new problems with Joel surface, I hope you would trust me enough.
(Amy's face softens.)
AMY: Very well. But you do realize trust is a two way street. (Helen looks at her, nods gravely.) If you thought by choosing to hide out with Baby Sis, you could avoid your problems, think again. You've been falling in and out of a funk all day, and it's time you came clean. HELEN: I know, I know. (meek sarcasm.) Though after what you said in the restaurant, I thought you had me figured out.
AMY: Maybe you'll prove me wrong. (Bt) Is it about work?
(Helen gets a melancholy expression. Sensing she's about to hit gold, Amy probes deeper.)
AMY: What happened at work?
HELEN: You mean what didn't happen? (sighs.) But my troubles at work are really just the latest in a series of setbacks.
AMY: What kind of setbacks? At home, too? (Bt) With Jake?
(Helen closes her eyes, her expression pained and overwhelmed. Amy lays a hand on her arm.)
AMY: Shhh, just take it slow and start from the beginning.
HELEN: (short laugh) I don't even think I know where that is.
AMY: When did you first start feeling like this?
HELEN: Who knows?! But I do know that I want it to go away, because I can't live like th... (Suddenly she gets a stunned expression.)
AMY: What is it? (Helen turns slowly and looks Amy over.) Helen?
HELEN: (quiet) You.
AMY: What? You can't live like me??
HELEN: It was you. I kept wondering what my main reason for visiting was, and now I know: you're the cause of my problems. You started everything.
AMY: (winces at her angry tone) You're not just looking for a convenient villain?
HELEN: (resolute) My life was perfectly content until you came to visit that one weekend. Since then, one thing after another has gone wrong.
(Amy just stares at Helen with disbelief, before her typical cynicism reasserts itself. She twists her key in the ignition.)
AMY: Well this I've gotta hear. I should have known you didn't come just to confide in me.
(fade-out. fade-in to:)
SCENE 7 (Morgendorffer residence, later)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria standing next to her bed, looking over several "going-out" provisions with a dubious expression.)
QUINN (off screen) Hey Daria, before you go out on your scavenger hunt tonight, there's something you may want to do.
DARIA: What?
QUINN: Reconsider.
(She walks up to Daria, holding a sheet of yellow paper.)
QUINN: (note of triumph) I know you, like, think you thought of everything when you went through Dad's wallet and his other stuff, but you neglected to check his briefcase.
DARIA: It has a combination lock.
QUINN: Daria, Daria, Daria, it's all numbers. You just have to find the right ones.
DARIA: (rolls her eyes) Thanks so much for the enlightenment, Sir Isaac.
QUINN: And a really good nail file.
(She hands Daria the sheet of paper, which Daria reads carefully.)
DARIA: "The Great Chili Cook-Off and T-Ball Tournament, held at..." Well at least we know where he's going tonight.
QUINN: And we know who he's going with.
(She turns the paper over, revealing barely-legible handwriting. It reads: "As always, I'll look forward to seeing you tonight, Jake. And in case you forgot again, my number is...")
(Daria and Quinn look at each other. Daria clears off the bed and they both sit down. Daria reaches for the phone, then pauses to gage Quinn's response. Quinn nods tensely.)
DARIA: (as she dials) There's something familiar about this handwriting.
QUINN: Hmm, yeah.
(The phone rings a few times, then: )
VOICE: Who shall I ask is CALLING??
(The volume and the force of the voice catch Daria off guard, and she drops the phone onto the bed.)
VOICE: PerHAPS I didn't make myself CLEAR.
(Daria and Quinn gaze at each other, stunned. The phone is loud enough for them both to hear.)
VOICE: When a person CALLS, said person must IDENTIFY himself! Only an IDIOT would think otherwise! Is that YOU, Kevin?!
(Hurriedly, Daria places the phone back on its hook.)
[Shot of Jake with Daria and Quinn in the kitchen, followed by shot of Joel playing the restaurant piano, followed by shot of Helen and Amy in the car, followed by shot of Daria dropping her phone onto the bed.]
You are now entering commercial HELL. Please keep your seat belt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.
And "Emeril"? "Emeril"?? A sitcom about the cooking show guy? That one's dead before it gets off the ground.
Of course, they said that about "Nikki," too...
You are now leaving commercial HELL. Aren't you happy you survived?