This is the tenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe. It follows
I've been channeling Peter Guerin as of late. The title of my last fanfic sounded like one of his ("Outvoted"/ "Outbitched"), and both were about Sandi. And the title of this fic shortens to O.A.V. Coincidence?? ;-)
I give this one a..... tah-dah 1.5S! I never thought I'd see one of those again...
So be happy you'll have less eyestrain this time around, and enjoy!!
Ten Spot Promo: The one where those official guys are having a stare-down with the female spy. They try to tape record her, but she refuses to talk...
[intro theme music...................]
SCENE 1 (Quinn's room, Morgendorffer house, evening)
(Shot of the outside. We hear Quinn's voice-over: )
QUINN: (on the phone. fawning) Oh of course we would --
(Cut to close-up of Tiffany and Stacy sitting on the floor, watching Quinn off screen -- Stacy's eager and nervous, Tiffany's about as close to registering emotion as she possibly could be.)
QUINN: (off screen) Nothing but the best for you and the gang, Mr. Reynaldo. (long Pause) Uh-huh... uh-huh... uh-huh...
(Tiffany and Stacy glance at each other, cross their fingers. Pan over to show Quinn sitting on her bed, her ear against the cordless phone, looking fairly business-like and calm. Slowly her face brightens.)
QUINN: Uh-huh? (gets a big smile.) Uh-huh?! (Pause. then, sounding as though she can barely contain her glee: ) Yes. I mean no -- we won't let you down. Talk to you soon. Bye. (clicks off the phone, looks at her underlings with a satisfied smirk.) It is done.
(Cut to wide shot of all three. Tiffany smirks, while Stacy gets that hyperventilating look on her face.)
STACY: (eyes practically popping out) You got him to sponsor the Fashion Expo?! The Fashion Expo's coming to OUR school??!
QUINN: Yep. Now settle down St--
STACY: Whooo-hoooo!!!
(She jumps up and grabs Quinn in a bear hug, practically knocking her backward. Meanwhile Tiffany's looking at her with definite respect.)
TIFFANY: (obsequious) You're a genius, Quinn.
QUINN: (nonchalant) Duh. (peels Stacy off of her.) It was nothing, really. You just gotta know how to talk the talk, butter 'em up and stuff.
STACY: But Sandi tried a gazillion times to get the Fashion Expo to come, and it never worked out.
(Quinn smirks -- Stacy has just unwittingly said exactly what she wanted to hear.)
QUINN: (faux humble) Yes, well some people just aren't blessed with that natural capability. We really shouldn't blame the poor girl.
STACY: Yeah. (Bt) I wonder how she's managing as vice-president.
(Quinn's smirk fades.)
TIFFANY: This'll make our school, like, the fashion center of the whole district.
STACY: Maybe even the county! (Bt) You're the best, Quinn.
QUINN: (regaining her former glee) Aw, you guys. (Bt) Well with the Expo coming up in less than two weeks, we'll have to put in a lot of work -- (suddenly interrupted from off screen: )
HELEN: (calling) Quinn!
(Quinn freezes, gets a wary look on her face. Tiffany and Stacy don't make a sound, hoping their silence will convince Helen that no one's there and make her stop calling. Nope.)
HELEN: (off screen) Quinn! Get down here, young lady!
JAKE: (off screen) Yeah, young lady, get down here!!
HELEN: Jake -- I already said that!
JAKE: (meek) Oh. Yeah, right.
(Quinn sighs and rolls her eyes.)
QUINN: Great. Those people who live with me want me for something.
TIFFANY: Bummer.
STACY: Shhhh, it'll be okay. (pats Quinn's arm reassuringly.)
QUINN: (groaning) I'll be right back.
(She jumps off the bed and heads for the door.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 2 (living room)
(Shot of Quinn coming down the stairs, looking extremely vexed. At the base, we see Helen and Jake standing there, equally pissed off.)
QUINN: (not cowed by their demeanor) Whatever this is, could you, like, make it fast?? My friends are upstairs.
HELEN: Don't use that tone of -- (Quinn sweeps past her and heads toward the couch -- she knows the drill.) um, sit... er...
JAKE: (at the same time) Yeah, young lady, don't use that -- (watches her go.) um... yeah...
(Cut to shot of the couches. Daria is sitting on the center couch, reading a newspaper. She lowers it ever-so-slightly to observe the action. Quinn flops down on the right hand couch and folds her arms.)
QUINN: (to her parents, as they're coming over) Is this about my date last night?? 'Cause if so, I'm telling you that he wasn't, like, thirty. He just looks very mature for his age, and so he has a job an' some stock opt--
HELEN: Quinn. (sits down to the left of Daria, so she's between her and Quinn. Jake sits down on the other side of Quinn.) We'll discuss that later. Right now we're on the subject of your performance at school.
QUINN: ("oh is that all?") What about it??
JAKE: Well, sweetie, your mom got a call this afternoon, and --
HELEN: Jake, I can speak for myself, thank you. (Bt) Yes, sweetheart, your math teacher phoned this aftern--
QUINN: What, Mr. Phelps?! (melodramatic) Does that man, like, follow me around an' spy on me so, like, whenever I'm having a good time, he can, like, come down on me with his mean, oppressive rules and demands???
DARIA: (deadpan) You mean make you learn?
(Quinn glares at her.)
HELEN: Quinn, he's concerned about your grade in math, and so are we. He said that you're in danger of failing, and he's arranged a parent-teacher conference to discuss your options.
QUINN: Well great. So is that it? (starts to get up.)
(Helen sighs heavily.)
HELEN: I wish you would take these things more seriously, Quinn.
QUINN: (flopping down again) Mo-om, things'll turn out fine, I promise. With some cramming on the final exam, I can pull myself up back to a C, no problem.
DARIA: Nothing like an unshakable work ethic.
HELEN: (serious. weary) Quinn, don't you ever give any thought to your future?
QUINN: (exasperated) Of course I do! Duh! Like for instance, the Fashion Expo's coming to our school thanks to yours truly, an' --
HELEN: You know that's not what I'm talking about. (glances over at Jake, who's starting to nod off.) Jake, back me up!
JAKE: (coming back to life) Oh -- erm... sure, hon. (Bt. to Quinn) She means important stuff, sweetie.
QUINN: (looking wounded) But the Fashion Expo is important. (Bt) Maybe you don't care about fashion, but think of all those poor, pathetic loser girls who can finally find the role models they need. If afterward, we've touched one life, it'll have been worth it.
DARIA: A new case of bulimia is born.
QUINN: (oblivious) You wanna talk a bunch of silly numbers? Then let me tell you since I became Fashion Club president, fashion faux pas have dropped twenty percent to an all-time low, wearers of capri pants have doubled, pore cleansing purchases have tripled, and if I had to count all the people who --
HELEN: (curt) Quinn, enough. (Bt) I was talking about the distant future.
QUINN: Huh?
DARIA: The time when your hair can only get its bouncy cuteness out of a bottle.
QUINN: (horrified expression) Hgh! I don't wanna think that far ahead!
HELEN: (weary) Exactly what I thought you'd say. (Bt) You know, Quinn, I've always loved knowing that you lead a vibrant, active lifestyle -- but there comes a time when you have to reassess your priorities . Look at the bigger picture. I was hoping it would happen when we fixed your vision, but... I guess I was mistaken.
(Quinn frowns, looking sort of hurt.)
HELEN: But don't think you're getting away with anything. (sighs) Ugh, tomorrow I'll have to get my secretary to come down to your school and --
JAKE: (chuckling a little) Y' know it's funny: I'd been planning to take the afternoon off tomorrow...
HELEN: (oblivious) -- I'd hate to lose her as back-up during a meeting with the partners, but family crises always come --
JAKE: (sort of mumbling) So I mean really... it'd be no trouble at all for me... to...
HELEN: Let this be a lesson to you, Quinn, the next --
DARIA: Uh, Mom. (nods toward Jake.)
HELEN: What?? (Pause) Jake? Is there something you wanted to say?
(Beat)
JAKE: I could, um, see Quinn's math teacher tomorrow.
(Beat)
HELEN: (discouraging tone) Now, Jake, are you sure you know what you're getting into?
(Jake gets a slightly repentant look on his face, which both Daria and Quinn notice.)
DARIA: Mom, perhaps you might recall what you and Dad talked about.
HELEN: Talked about??
QUINN: (crafty expression) Yeah, Mom, let Dad go.
JAKE: (pleading expression) Yeah, honey. Remember what you said -- that I could have more responsibility with the girls?? [*] see "None in the Family, Part Two"
(Pause)
HELEN: (looking uncomfortable) Oh. Right. I did say that, didn't I? (Bt) Well okay, Jakey, you can go in Marianne's place. You do know the way, right??
JAKE: Know the way?? (does an enthusiastic fist pump.) What kind of idiot d' you think I am?? I've been to our kids' school before!
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 3 (the next afternoon)
(Shot of the outside of a high school. The sign outside reads "Cumberland High." We see Jake's car drive up to it. Cut to close-up of Jake, frowning and looking at the sign.)
JAKE: Hmm, something's not quite right...
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 4 (Phelps's classroom, Lawndale High, a short time later)
(Shot of Phelps seated at his desk with hands folded, a tray of tea and coffee goods beside him. As stated in "Andrea Speaks!" and "Cheered Down," he's a balding, fifty-something year old with an air of formality. On the whole, he looks very well-kept [even Quinn would find little fault with his grooming habits], and at present is wearing a Mr. Rogers-style cardigan over a vest, a starched white shirt, and a tie. His expression is pretty deadpan, but we can see impatience creeping up along the edges.)
(Cut to shot of the outside of Lawndale High. We see the Lexus barrel up to the front and screech to a halt. The driver's side door flies open -- Jake jumps out and hastens toward the entrance.)
(Cut to shot of Phelps. He eyes his watch, then sighs and starts to stand up. Suddenly, from off screen: )
JAKE: Wha-whoa wait! No need to leave, my good man, sit down.
(Cut to wider shot. Jake rushes up to Phelps and shakes his hand, herky-jerky style.)
JAKE: The name's Jake Morgendorffer -- Quinn Morgendorffer's father. Now what d' you say we get down to business?
(He moves to sit down on top of a desk, but unfortunately is too heavy. The desk tips forward, sending Jake to the ground. Phelps watches this display with a raised brow.)
PHELPS: (dry) I'm Alfred Phelps. And I'd all but given up on you.
(Chuckling sheepishly, Jake picks himself up and squeezes himself into the desk chair with some difficulty.)
JAKE: Eh-heh, no, I just got caught up in... um... (looks around the room, trying to change the subject.) Gee, this is sure a nice room you've got here.
PHELPS: It's like all the others. (Bt) You don't come here very often, do you?
JAKE: I do so! (Phelps gives him a penetrating look, which causes him to crumble.) Well I... once.
(Phelps sighs.)
PHELPS: You're like so many other parents, Mr. Morgendorffer. Too consumed by the grind of everyday life to give your children the time and energy they deserve.
JAKE: Oh no, you've got me all wrong! I wouldn't've come here if I wasn't one hundred percent devoted to my kid. (pounds the desk for emphasis.) I'm ready to hear what you've got to say. (looks off to the side, notices the tray on Phelps's desk.) Ooh -- cookies!
PHELPS: (sighing) Yes, help yourself. (Jake wiggles out of the desk and grabs a bunch, then sits back down, stuffing them one by one into his mouth.) They're called "English tea biscuits," actually. I take my tea in here instead of the lounge because I can't tolerate those other instructors -- with their bulging eyes, their whining, their man-hating... (shudders a little.) But now, Mr. Morgendorffer, let's begin disc-- Mr. Morgendorffer?
(We see Jake stuffing the last of the biscuits into his mouth and licking the crumbs off of his fingers, oblivious.)
PHELPS: Mr. Morgendorffer! (slaps his desk, scowls. Jake is startled back into alertness.) This is serious. Quinn's welfare is at stake. (Bt) You do realize that she's in danger of failing??
JAKE: (cowering a little) Um... as much as in her other classes?
(Beat)
PHELPS: (quiet exasperation) I wouldn't know. But what makes her slide in my class disturbing is that she's naturally gifted in the subject matter.
JAKE: She is? (Bt. disbelief) You're talking about Quinn, right?
PHELPS: (without bothering to acknowledge the question) She has a talent for working with numbers. Coordinating them, matching them, distributing them so that they form the right combinations. It's a talent not too many people have.
(Beat)
JAKE: This is Quinn, you're talking about?? I mean, not some other girl who just looks like Quinn? Not Dar--
PHELPS: Yes, Quinn. Quinn, Mr. Morgendorffer. She could excel in math if she ever put her mind to it, and from there, who knows where she could go?? All she needs is the proper encouragement. (pointed look at Jake as he says this.)
JAKE: (still stunned) Wow, Quinn...
PHELPS: A few months ago, I got my hopes up when, without explanation, she started attending class regularly. It was as if, for the first time, she actually wanted to be taught. She was focusing, absorbing, showing an amazing turn-around, and... needless to say, her plunge has upset me greatly.
JAKE: Yeah. Um, I could see how it would.
PHELPS: (raising a brow) But what's been damaged can be mended. Meaning, your daughter could pull herself up to a respectable grade by the end of this term.
JAKE: (a little cowed by Phelps's intensity) Well, um, yeah. Sure, why not? I mean, if she's so smart, like you say...
PHELPS: And perhaps more.
JAKE: More?
(Beat)
PHELPS: At the end of the term, we math instructors hold our bi-annual entrance examination for Higher Algebra and Trigonometry. It's a class normally taught to juniors... but I think Quinn could make it in. Don't you?
JAKE: (chuckling) But Quinn's only a sopho-- (gets it.) ohhh.
(Beat)
PHELPS: So I offer this to you as a challenge, Mr. Morgendorffer. Do your part as a parent. Sit with Quinn every night for at least an hour. And make sure she attends class each day. I'll do the rest.
(Jake nods frantically. Phelps leans closer to him, looks him directly in the eye.)
PHELPS: (slowly) If we work together, we can make Quinn realize her full potential.
JAKE: (still nodding frantically) Right. Of course...
PHELPS: Oh, and one last thing: I'd prefer to keep my future plans for Quinn between us, if that's all right. Just focus on helping her in the here-and-now.
JAKE: Oh I will. I will...
(cut to: )
SCENE 5 (Morgendorffer house, evening)
(Shot of the outside.)
JAKE: (off screen voice-over) Quinn's gonna be a GENIUS!!!
(Cut to shot of the four Morgendorffers sitting at dinner. Jake is very animated, while Daria watches him impassively, and Helen with pleasure and surprise -- mostly surprise. Quinn looks pale and stunned.)
JAKE: He said all I gotta do is sit with her every night and then whammo -- she could go anywhere! Well I'm up for the challenge! I've been known to push around the old slide rule in my day.
QUINN: A what??
DARIA: (deadpan) I think the modern slang term for it is "calculator," Dad.
JAKE: Oh. Right. (chuckles.)
(Beat)
HELEN: Well, Jakey, it sounds like you got a lot out of your talk with Mr. Phelps. But I'm sure he meant for both of us to--
QUINN: (crafty) Yeah, um, Dad, are you sure you understood what Mr. Phelps was saying?? 'Cause he can, like, use a lot of really big, confusing words.
JAKE: (looking confused) Well he... seemed pretty clear to me.
HELEN: (glaring sideways at Quinn) Jake, can't you see she's just trying to trip you up?? (Bt. to Quinn) You know, sweetie, this could be your wake-up call. Why not use this opportunity -- (Quinn gets a sour look on her face.) -- to focus on the rest of your studies?
QUINN: (frustrated) But dammit, I don't have time to focus on school! I've got really important plans I have to deal with!
(Pause. She gets a cold look from Helen.)
HELEN: Well make time.
JAKE: Yeah, sweetie -- I'll figure out a way to make learning really fun!
QUINN: Ughhh...
DARIA: Yes, Quinn: get in touch with your inner brain. (smirks wickedly.)
QUINN: Ughhhhhhhh!!! (stands up abruptly.) That's it! I can't take this anymore. I'm gonna go upstairs to... be... sick, now. (stumbles away.)
(The other members of her family watch her go. Then Jake turns to Helen and Daria and waves a hand nonchalantly.)
JAKE: Aw, she's just a little nervous. But wait'll she sees all the really neat stuff I'm gonna do for her. I'll get started now! (jumps up, dashes away.)
(Pause. Daria watches him go, then cocks an eyelid at Helen.)
DARIA: Well, well: I'm impressed.
HELEN: So am I. I've never seen your father so energized.
DARIA: Yeah -- he's awake after dinner. (Bt) But actually, I was referring to your uncommon show of restraint. You didn't try too hard to take the reins from him.
HELEN: Oh come on, Daria, what makes you think I'd do something like that? (gets a pointed look from Daria. conceding) Well look, he said he wanted the chance to prove his parenting skills, and I'm willing to have faith in him.
DARIA: (subtly impressed) Hmm, then maybe your separation wasn't a total waste.
HELEN: And besides, if he messes up, I'll be right nearby to pick up the pieces...
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 6 (Quinn's room, late evening)
(Shot of her door as seen from the outside.)
QUINN: (off screen voice-over) My life is over!!!
(Cut to an overhead shot of Quinn. She's sprawled across the bed in a crucifixion pose, the cordless phone against her ear.)
QUINN: (melodramatic) My parents are, like, chaining me to the stupid kitchen table every night just 'cause I'm failing math!
(Split the screen to form three triangles, containing Quinn, Tiffany, and Stacy. Quinn's on tele-conference call.)
TIFFANY: Bummer.
STACY: But weren't you doing well at one --?
QUINN: They're gonna make me slave away studying for the next dumb test, when I should be working on the Fashion Expo!
STACY: Dumb Mr. Phelps. He gives too many tests.
TIFFANY: Yeah. He's so weird.
STACY: I wish he'd never transferred here from that stupid prep school.
TIFFANY: He could really use some new outfits.
STACY: Yeah, like maybe he could get one of those cute little--
QUINN: Guys! (Bt) Ugh, look, what that means is I'm gonna have to put more responsibility on you. Ordering the food, the flowers, stuff like that.
STACY: On us?? (looks a little intimidated.)
QUINN: Think you can handle it?
TIFFANY: Suuuuure. (gets a delighted smirk.)
QUINN: Great.
STACY: But what'll you be able to do??
QUINN: Hey, don't worry -- I'll be there to wine and dine Mr. Reynaldo and the rest of the Defense of Cute Animals Society. (Bt. chuckles) I mean, I shouldn't have too much trouble ditching my dad. He's not exactly all there, if you know what I mean. (chuckles again.)
(Pause)
STACY: Your dad?? I thought he was your uncle.
(Pause)
QUINN: Oh. Well... he likes it when I call him "Dad." Makes him feel important.
STACY: Oh.
(Beat)
TIFFANY: But your mom's your mom, right??
QUINN: Oh. Yeah.
(Pause. Quinn chuckles nervously.)
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 7 (kitchen, a short time later)
(Shot of the kitchen table. It's covered with scattered papers, a notebook, an Algebra/Geometry text book, pencils, calculator -- the whole shebang. We now see Quinn walk toward the table uneasily , then collapse into a chair. She leans one elbow on the table and places her head in hand. Then, with her other hand, she picks up a pencil and stares at it suspiciously, as if it's an alien object. Finally Quinn sets it down and lets it roll across the table. Just then, we see Daria come up to her.)
QUINN: (wary) Don't say it.
DARIA: (smirking) That you're well-stocked for your journey to Nerdville?
QUINN: Yes.
DARIA: Well don't worry -- I don't have to. 'Cause congratulations: you've already crossed over.
(Quinn glares at her resentfully, then looks at the math materials, and wilts.)
[Shot of Jake falling off the desk in Mr. Phelps's classroom.]
You are now entering commercial HEAVEN. Laaaaaaaaaaaaa... We're so very happy to have you with us. Just sit back and let yourself be soothed by some of the grooviest commercials put on television.
[To John Berry: this is what you do when you aren't able to follow up a preview clip with an actual episode. You just blame the MTV programmers for having stupidity that knows no bounds, and claim that they pre-empted your fic with "One Hundred Ways for Teenagers to Have Sex." But, due to a massive letter writing campaign by devoted fans of "Daria," the programmers decided to air your fic after all -- but they aired the wrong fic by mistake! D'OH!!! Those stupid clowns... off with their heads.]
You are now leaving commercial HEAVEN. Y'all come back soon now, ya hear?