This is the twenty-second and final episode of The Driven Wild Universe. It follows
For the final episode, I'll be scrapping my usual three Acts in favor of seven. Yes, seven. And it will be commercial-free! Hey, they did it for the final "Daria" movie, "Is It College Yet?".
[intro theme music...................]
SCENE 1 (Lane residence, afternoon)
(Daria comes up to the front door, rings the bell, and knocks urgently.)
(Inside, Jane walks down the stairs, toward the door.)
JANE: All right, already. You Jehovah's Witnesses sure don't take burning effigies in the front yard for an answer, do you?
(She opens the door, sees Daria's stricken expression.)
JANE: Daria. You did it? You had it out with Phelps?
DARIA: (stiff) Yes, but don't worry... the numbness and chills have worn off. All that's left is the pain.
(Jane ushers Daria inside and closes the door.)
JANE: I take it your tete-a-tete didn't go so well.
DARIA: Let's just say I'm no Clarence Darrow. When faced with someone who can mount an effective attack, I fall to pieces.
JANE: Come on, I'm sure you didn't do that badly.
DARIA: Well, I couldn't get him to transfer Quinn from his class. I couldn't get him to admit to any wrongdoing. I showed all my cards by admitting I knew about his past. Oh yes, and I also confessed that I loved Big Brother.
JANE: So it wasn't your most shining moment. I told you Phelps isn't easy to intimidate.
DARIA: More like he got to me. I see now why Quinn finds it so hard to ignore him. He has this way of looking at you like he knows you better than you know yourself.
JANE: Oh yeah, the eye thing. I should have warned you about that -- first they stare at you really hard, and then they narrow, like he's locked in on a target and about to burn it to pieces with a wave of hypnotic energy. He makes those kids from Village of the Damned look like The Bad News Bears.
(She distorts her eyes in demonstration.)
DARIA: Thank you. I was at the live event -- I don't need a replay.
JANE: That look made me hit the math book harder than I ever thought possible. And occasionally lose total bladder control.
(Daria shoots her a look of disgust.)
JANE: Kidding! Seriously, though, I'm sure you did the best you could.
DARIA: Which wasn't enough. I feel like I'm running out of options.
JANE: Well, you could --
DARIA: Except for that one. (She sighs, then glances at the clock.) Do any of your clocks give accurate time?
JANE: The one on the TV Guide Channel just told me it was four o'clock.
DARIA: I hope she isn't in court today. I want to talk to her without Quinn overhearing.
JANE: Daria, did something else happen? You look so shaken, I was on the verge of asking you to lie down.
DARIA: Phelps said that if I went public with my concerns, he would retaliate. He also said...
JANE: What?
DARIA: ... that I was just like him. Or rather, that he used to be like me, until circumstances turned him into a bitter jerk with the uncanny mannerisms of Nosferatu.
JANE: He was just trying to scare you.
DARIA: Right. (frowns) Good thing that didn't work.
(cut to: )
SCENE 2 (The Settlement, later)
HELEN: He threatened you?!
(Helen and Daria sit at one of the corner tables. Daria has finished telling her mother her past suspicions of Phelps and their most recent run-in..)
HELEN: I knew there was something I didn't like about that man! The way he acted like he always knew so more than everyone else! And now, threatening a defenseless teenager?!
(She reaches down into her briefcase and pulls out a notepad and pen.)
HELEN: Well he's not going to get away with this! I want to know everything, Daria! Tell me exactly what he said.
DARIA: Just that he knew information that could make my year and even my future very difficult.
HELEN: What sort of information?
DARIA: I told you: I worked on an underground newspaper. My articles were frank and even a bit harsh, but I didn't do anything wrong. Unless he meant my keeping an army of mutant squirrels in the backyard.
HELEN: Did he elaborate?
DARIA: No. His tone filled in the gaps well enough.
(Helen jots this down.)
HELEN: Can you recall anything more concrete? It would really help your case.
DARIA: They don't convict people in court on the basis of tone?
HELEN: Unfortunately, no.
DARIA: I was afraid you'd say that.
HELEN: Getting back to the problem sets he had for Quinn: Did you keep a copy of one? Something that could be cross checked with an actual system of bank account numbers?
DARIA: (cheeks reddening) No. I might have, but Quinn caught me snooping and since then has kept her door firmly locked at all times.
HELEN: This man you met, this Marshall, did he describe in detail how the account theft system worked?
DARIA: You mean besides the fact that it siphoned money?
(She shakes her head. Helen smiles, but can't hide the fact that she was expecting to hear more.)
DARIA: Why don't you just say it? I've got nothing on this guy.
HELEN: That's not what I was... though I'm glad you came to me before your principal or the police. If you had gotten Mr. Phelps into trouble, he could have sued us for defamation of character, and without evidence to back up your claims, we could have been forced to pay him thousands of dollars.
DARIA: Would you have rather I minded my own business and let Quinn continue with actions that were possibly illegal?
HELEN: Of course not. It was very sweet of you to look out for your sister -- but there were better ways you could have done it. How do you think Quinn would react if you pulled her out of her favorite class without consulting her?
DARIA: Pretty upset.
HELEN: I just don't understand why you never came to us.
DARIA: Maybe out of dread that my suspicions would be shot down.
HELEN: Daria, I was just being realistic.
DARIA: So am I. Don't you remember when Quinn's teacher first got hyper- involved in her studies? I raised some concerns then, and you jumped on the Phelps-is-God bandwagon.
HELEN: But we had no reason to assume anything bad had happened. If Quinn had told us her teacher wanted her to cheat, it would have been different.
DARIA: She only told me because she knew I was suspicious. If I'd revered him like you and Dad, I would still be in the dark.
HELEN: We were trying to help her.
DARIA: And you did it by making me look like a jealous brat, undermining my already shaky credibility with Quinn. That's why I didn't come to you before. I almost didn't come to you today.
(Helen looks at her, her expression growing weary.)
HELEN: I didn't realize we did that. I'm sorry.
DARIA: And truth be told, over the past few months, neither you nor Dad were in any position to hear my vague conspiracy theories. Before the separation, Dad was always out in the evenings and you were too busy tending to your personal crisis.
HELEN: Daria, you and Quinn are my personal crisis. I mean --
DARIA: I get what you mean. But there were times when you seemed so out of it, I wasn't sure if you remembered your own name.
(Helen closes her mouth and reflects upon her depression, knowing that Daria is closer to the truth than she realizes.)
HELEN: I know I haven't been the greatest mom to either of you lately. I've made a lot of decisions that I wish I could take back. (catch in her voice.) But believe me when I say that I love you both more than anything in the world. I just want you girls to get everything you want out of life, to achieve what I know you could. You know that, don't you?
(Daria sees her mother's eyes grow bright with tears.)
DARIA: Yeah... I do.
HELEN: Your father feels the same way. I don't want you to ever think we'd place our problems ahead of yours.
DARIA: So if I find you choking to death, I shouldn't let that stop me from talking about my "not so fresh" feeling?
(Helen lets out a little tension-easing laugh.)
DARIA: Thanks, Mom. That means a lot. I just wish I had gotten real evidence before giving you a scare.
HELEN: Maybe you don't have it now, but that doesn't mean it isn't there.
DARIA: So you believe me?
HELEN: I believe in you. You're too smart and too levelheaded to stick with paranoid conclusions, Daria. If you really think Quinn's teacher is up to something, you'll find the evidence to prove it. We'll get to the bottom of this, somehow.
DARIA: "We"?
HELEN: You're not in this alone... you never were. All I ask is that you not make rash decisions or go behind your sister's back, okay?
DARIA: You mean like right now?
HELEN: Er... anymore.
(She smiles wryly at Daria, and Daria smirks back, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 3 (Quinn's room, later)
QUINN: Mom, I can't believe she would lie to me.
(Helen stands over Quinn, who sits on the bed, her hostility toward her mother temporarily overcome by hurt feelings toward her sister.)
QUINN: Daria said she would stop acting jealous and treat me like I was smart. She sounded so sincere, I really believed her.
HELEN: Quinn, think about it carefully for a moment. Would your sister really go to so much trouble if she were only jealous?
(Quinn gazes down at the floor, her brow furrowing, trying to shut out her mother's words and the unwanted thoughts that come with them.)
QUINN: Maybe she just doesn't think she's jealous.
HELEN: I think she was concerned. And hearing her details, so am I, a little. Is there anything you could tell me to prove they aren't true?
(Quinn fixes her gaze on the floor.)
HELEN: Quinn, look at me. Please. Is any of it true?
QUINN: Mom, you and Dad have seen me working on really hard math problems before. There's no way it can all be stuff that Mr. Phelps made up to rob a bank, or whatever.
HELEN: Honey, no one's saying everything you've done is suspect. Could I look at one of the problem sets she mentioned?
QUINN: I don't have them. I gave all of that statistics stuff to Mr. Phelps.
HELEN: And you're sure he never said anything to you that seemed ethically challenged? That you felt was wrong?
(Quinn bites her lip, her face clouding over in thought.)
QUINN: No.
HELEN: Not even when you were on the mathletics team?
QUINN: I said no.
HELEN: Quinn.
(Quinn meets her mother's eyes, and her startled expression gives way to one of pain.)
QUINN: She told you?
HELEN: About your teacher giving you problems that were going to be used in the tournaments? Is it --
QUINN: (flustered) He was just trying to prepare me. After I messed up against Cumberland, he gave me some problems to build my confidence.
HELEN: Were they actual --
QUINN: He didn't -- I wouldn't -- I didn't cheat. Did she tell you I cheated?!
HELEN: She said nothing of the sort. Just that that's what you told her, and she was worried.
QUINN: I would never cheat, Mom!
HELEN: I believe you.
(She strokes Quinn's hair, and Quinn exhales shakily, her shoulders relaxing. Helen, however, cannot keep her growing concern at bay.)
HELEN: All the same, I think I'll give Mr. Phelps a call.
QUINN: Why?!
HELEN: Because I want to trust him the same way. Besides, I'm long overdue for another talk with him, and what kind of mother would I be if I didn't keep tabs on your teachers?
(Quinn's expression turns stony. She leans back so that Helen can no longer touch her.)
HELEN: Honey, I don't blame you for feeling upset -- but I'm doing this to help you, not punish you. And I'm pretty sure that if you asked Daria, she would tell you the same.
(Quinn leans all the way back, so her back is against the mattress and she faces the ceiling.)
HELEN: Just give it some thought, would you?
(She waits for a reply, and when she doesn't get one, sighs quietly and leaves the room. Alone, Quinn stares at the ceiling with pained, searching eyes.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 4 (Phelps's house, evening)
(Shot of the outside reveals a two-story gray-stoned house surrounded by several trees, quiet enough to suggest that it is a bit removed from a typical subdivision.)
PHELPS: (V.O.) Mrs. Morgendorffer, I can assure you...
(Cut to shot of Phelps seated in an upholstered chair in his private office. He has papers spread out before him, but his attention is on the phone call. He presses his lips together, barely able to contain his impatience.)
PHELPS: Mrs. Mor-- Mrs.... Yes, I understand. Yes.
HELEN: (from the phone) Then you'll understand that I take threats against my children very seriously!
PHELPS: I was just surprised by her request and my temper got away from me. You know how that goes. But I meant nothing by it --
HELEN: (O.S.) I expect a full apology first thing tomorrow.
PHELPS: Yes, yes, and I'll say right now that I am deeply sorry my intentions were so misunderstood. I --
(Phelps finds himself cut off and taps a pencil against the arm of his chair.)
PHELPS: Mathletics problems? (Pause) The ones I gave Quinn were just accurate examples, not the problems themselves. I couldn't possibly know --
(Cut off again, he beats his pencil against the chair harder.)
PHELPS: Practice problems or statistics sheets, I assure you that I would never give my students work that wasn't completely legitimate.
(Cut to shot of Helen in the Morgendorffers' kitchen, the phone to her ear. She stands over the stove, emptying a bag of peas into boiling water.)
HELEN: Then you wouldn't mind faxing a few statistic sheets to my office tomorrow so I can take a look at them. My fax number is 555-3455 -- that's 555-3455, not 555-3454. I will not have another situation where that Lindsay Pearlman can read my private materials. He turns every little thing into a huge disaster, and -- well I'm sorry your pencil broke, go find another one.
(Quinn walks down the stairs, overhearing this last bit. She cringes -- this isn't exactly the "talking" she had expected.)
HELEN: And while we're on the subject, Quinn has fallen behind in several of her classes and my phone has been ringing off the hook with teachers calling to complain, so I strongly suggest you put a stop to these extra assignments until she's caught up -- you do know she has six other classes?
(Daria reads at the table. Over the rim of her book, she sees Quinn walk slowly over to her chair. Their eyes meet for a moment; then Quinn sits down, her expression subdued, but not unfriendly.)
(Cut to shot of Phelps in his office, beating a new pencil to ruin.)
PHELPS: I'm of the old school, you see, Mrs. Morg-- (Cut off again, he tosses his pencil aside and takes a blank sheet of paper.) Where I'm from, students in their teens immerse themselves in a few select subjects for their A-level exams. I still think that is the best approach, but for Quinn's sake, I'll allow her to catch up in her other classes. All right? (He listens and tears off a scrap of paper.) Very good, then. (Pause) Yes, you, too. (Pause) And yes, once again, I apologize for speaking so harshly to your older daughter. (Pause) I certainly will from now on. (Pause) Have a pleasant evening.
(He lays the phone down hard in its cradle and puts the paper aside. He then runs his hands across what remains of his hair and, for a few moments, stares stonily at the open door in front of him.)
PHELPS: Marshall. (louder) Marshall.
(After a few beats of silence, a quiet pattering is heard in the hallway, and Marshall Winsett pops his head in the doorway.)
MARSHALL: Did you want something, love?
PHELPS: Could you come in here for a moment, please?
(Marshall walks in and moves to give him an affectionate embrace and kiss on the cheek, but notices that his partner isn't reciprocating.)
MARSHALL: You look a bit frightened, Alfie. What's the matter?
PHELPS: (draws away) I had a very interesting meeting with a student earlier today.
MARSHALL: Really? What about?
PHELPS: She told me that she knew about my past. The parts I wouldn't want made public.
(Marshall's expression remains unchanged, but he stands up straighter and moves to face his partner.)
PHELPS: Assuming she was telling the truth, I tried to think of who might have tipped her off, and knew of only one person still living in the area. (expression hardens.) Marshall, did you speak to a Ms. Daria Morgendorffer recently?
(Marshall doesn't speak for a beat or two. Then his shoulders sink.)
MARSHALL: (soft) I just wanted to find out what she knew. Very little, it turned out.
PHELPS: So you decided to fill her in?
MARSHALL: Please don't look at me that way, Alfred. As far as she knows, they're only rumors.
PHELPS: "Rumors"? (He laughs softly, angrily.) As if that made any difference at all. You don't know this girl, Marshall. She's extremely self-righteous and invested in her version of the truth. Now that you've encouraged her, she'll keep digging until she's found something incriminating. Why in God's name did you tell her anything?
MARSHALL: I wasn't going to, but something about her struck a chord inside me. She sounded so concerned.
PHELPS: If I didn't love you, I would be phoning my lawyer about now.
MARSHALL: She's Quinn's sister, isn't she?
(Phelps's cheeks color at the sound of her name.)
PHELPS: Yes, she is.
MARSHALL: I thought so. I couldn't remember Quinn's last name, but knew it was similar. When her sister mentioned that she didn't want someone close to her to get hurt, I made the connection. And I wondered... what exactly are you doing with this girl, Alfred?
PHELPS: Her sister -- concerned? (Again, he chuckles with disgust.) You have no idea what sort of family Quinn comes from. A mother who, a few days every month, remembers that she's supposed to be a parent. A father so self-absorbed and ignorant that he can barely keep track of his children's ages. And a sister so invested in being right, so sure of her own brilliance, that she regularly insults Quinn's intelligence to keep her under control. The only thing she was concerned about was having her own prejudices confirmed.
MARSHALL: She seemed sincere enough when I met with her.
PHELPS: Yes, well, you always were a soft touch. Believe me, the only thing I'm doing is giving Quinn a sense of the possible that she never got at home.
MARSHALL: So you're not...?
(Phelps stares at him, hurt and anger clouding his expression.)
PHELPS: You don't trust me. You've never trusted me, not since...
MARSHALL: Please, Alfred, I've tried to trust you. It's just that for the past several months, I've felt as though you're keeping things from me. Your attentiveness to that Quinn girl just reminded me...
PHELPS: (pained smile) How can I convince you that things are different now, that I've changed?
MARSHALL: By telling me the truth. Not that you aren't, just that if you found yourself in any sort of trouble, you would tell me.
PHELPS: I'm your partner, Marshall, not some stupid, wayward child to be kept in line. If we don't have basic trust between us, we don't have anything.
MARSHALL: Please, Alfie, I didn't mean it that way.
PHELPS: From the moment you asked me to, I've stopped siphoning money. I've shown you the balance sheets -- all of my foreign accounts with their zero amounts. I got a fresh start at Lawndale and you still won't let it rest. I feel as though nothing I do is ever good enough for you, Marshall.
MARSHALL: Oh darling, please.
PHELPS: I finally found some peace, a renewed sense of purpose, and you had to go dredge up the past.
MARSHALL: Alfie, I love you! I've been with you for fifteen years -- do you really think one instance of theft is going to change that?
PHELPS: I love you, too. But your meeting with that Morgendorffer girl has really rattled my faith. How do I know that you won't meet with her again, or her mother, or whomever else she drags into the mix?
MARSHALL: She doesn't know my relation to you, and no one was with her when we met. If she comes snooping about some more, I'll just deny I said anything.
PHELPS: Marshall, I want to believe you... (He looks at him probingly, then turns his face away.) ...but I know you. You still want to turn me in to the Fielding board to satisfy your conscience.
MARSHALL: I would never... you said you had stopped, so...
PHELPS: Of course, if you did, they would want to know why you, a Fielding administrator, have kept it under your hat for so long. That could lead to quite a scandal. The honorable Mr. Winsett, one of the Winsetts of Highbury, standing by while the gay lover he never mentions stole money from Fielding parents.
(Marshall's face loses some expression.)
PHELPS: Imagine your colleagues, all of the students with whom you've worked, what they would say. And your family -- aside from the stain on their reputation, they would finally learn that you're "that way." (lips curl a little.) You would finally have to tell them.
MARSHALL: I told you I love you, Alfred. I'll stand by you.
PHELPS: Thank you, Marshall.
(Marshall walks toward the door, then pauses and looks back at Phelps.)
MARSHALL: You say that you love me, too. Yet sometimes...
PHELPS: What?
MARSHALL: Never mind.
(He leaves. Phelps watches after him, his mouth slightly ajar, as if preparing to ask a question. He finally closes it and looks at the door with a mixture of wariness and sadness, then stands up and walks over to one of the shelves.)
PHELPS: (soft, musing) If she won't stop... someone will have to stop her.
(He reaches above his head and pulls down one of several file folders, then fingers the newsprint inside.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 5 (Lawndale High, the next day)
(Daria and Jane walk down the hallway, between classes.)
JANE: So Helen's sweet talking paid off, did it?
DARIA: From the way she was ranting, it was hard to tell, but I think he's going to stop giving Quinn extra assignments.
JANE: Then why the extra-thick air of gloom?
DARIA: It just felt so easy. Too easy.
(They turn a corner in the direction of O'Neill's room -- and run smack into Ms. Li.)
MS. LI: Darierrr... just the person I wanted to see.
(Daria looks at Jane, then at their principal.)
DARIA: Regarding?
MS. LI: We'll discuss that in my office. Come with me.
(She motions for Daria to follow and Daria does so slowly, with more fear than she would have guessed possible. Jane watches her with concern.)
(cut to: )
SCENE 6 (Ms. Li's office)
(Daria sits across from Ms. Li, who holds up an underground newspaper.)
MS. LI: Does this look familiar to you?
DARIA: They pass it around school twice a month.
MS. LI: You wrote for this paper, didn't you?
DARIA: Who told you that?
MS. LI: I'm not at liberty to divulge my sources.
DARIA: Just tell me if it was a student.
MS. LI: What did I just say, Ms. Morgendorffer?! The point is that you were fingered as one of the writers for a paper that has made some scandalous charges against Lllllawndale High.
DARIA: Were they true?
MS. LI: No, they were not true! What sort of banana republic do you think I run here?! (As Daria opens her mouth.) Don't answer. I don't need to hear any of your smart-mouthed comments. I just want the truth!
(Daria feels a chill. She thinks about the fates of her former peers on the underground and, after her encounter with Phelps, the way total truth could be used against her. At the same time, she is convinced of her innocence and that she shouldn't have to act like she has something to hide. She finally heaves a sigh.)
DARIA: Yes, I wrote for the underground newspaper. My articles were carefully researched, and I left before the paper started printing most of the inflammatory items you mentioned.
MS. LI: And you never knew of any wrongdoing?
DARIA: Only one article, but I wasn't involved.
MS. LI: Then whyyyy didn't you turn this delinquent in to the proper authorities??
DARIA: The writer wasn't a student here.
MS. LI: Is that really an excuse?!
DARIA: I thought the article was clumsy, but I didn't know it was wrong. I wasn't in charge of editorial decisions.
MS. LI: So you just let these callous and untrue comments cirrrculate the school without repercussion?!
DARIA: Instead of firebombing the newspaper pile, like I should have?
MS. LI: This is no joke!
DARIA: Neither's the sight of two hundred students running for their life from a raging inferno.
MS. LI: Ms. Morgendorffer, these articles over the past year have been the greatest threat to Llllllllllawndale High ever. Forget random lawsuits for discrimination or a possible murderer running for class president -- this is a concerted effort to undermine the school and all who hold it dear.
DARIA: In order to do what? Establish a biker bar in its place?
MS. LI: I should think you would know that answer. I'll have you know that I won't sit idly by while miscreants try to drive me out! Drastic situations call for drastic measures, which I am more than prepared to take.
DARIA: You're acting as though I ran the paper myself. I didn't even decide which articles went beneath the masthead. Why should I be responsible for an article that I had no part of, which wasn't even written by a student here?
MS. LI: And how am I supposed to know that?
DARIA: (eyes narrow) Ask Damien Crawley. He could tell you.
MS. LI: Yes, well, that may be. But how do I know you had nothing to do with any of the other libelous articles printed here?
DARIA: My pen name is Erasmus. Look it up for yourself.
MS. LI: I'll just do that. And until we get to the bottom of this, Ms. Morgendorffer, I have no choice but to suspend you.
DARIA: What??
MS. LI: You may be innocent of all charges, but your association with this sordid rag says deeply disturbing things about your character. I therefore can't trust you to be around other students.
DARIA: (growing angry) Why not? They just ignore me, anyway.
MS. LI: And might I say I'm surprised at you, Darierrr. I had you pegged as a disgruntled misfit, but not a bomb thrower. Clearly my psychological evaluations need to be revamped.
DARIA: I told you, I didn't do anything wrong.
MS. LI: So for one week, starting tomorrow, you are not to come anywhere near the premises.
(Daria feels another shiver, remembering Andrea.)
DARIA: And then what?
MS. LI: And then maybe you'll think twice about your rehhhckless behavior. (groans with disgust.) Stay right there while I phone your parents.
(Daria remains still, assessing her punishment.)
DARIA: Just one week?
MS. LI: Keep talking, and it will be more.
(Daria watches her dial the phone, feeling both anger and relief.)