Jane:

You owe me hugely for this, Morgendorffer.

Daria:

We agreed.  You get half the proceeds, plus a ten-dollar bonus because you met the parents.  We shook on it.

Jane:

We agreed on the monetary settlement, dear.

Tad:

I like having you here, Jane.  You’re fun to color with.

Tricia:

I never knew crayons could do neat things like that.

Jane:

It works better on an electric stove.

Tad:

Natural gas is a cleaner energy source.

Daria:

You both remember the rules from last time, right?

Tad and Tricia:

“We didn’t hear about it from you.”

Daria:

Where did you hear about it?

Tad and Tricia:

“The neighbor’s TV.”

Daria:

Very good.

The kids, resplendent in pajamas featuring various endangered species, jump into bed.

Tricia:

Could you tell us a story tonight?

Tad:

I want to hear Cinderella!

Tricia:

We’ve heard that a hundred times, Tad!  It’s Quinn’s favorite story.

Jane:

I suspect that the fate of Cinderella’s sisters plays into that.

Daria:

Or having a magical fairy help her dress for a party.

Tad:

I want to hear Cinderella.

Tricia:

Tad, we hear that story all the time!

Tad:

But I want to hear it the way Daria tells it!

Tricia:

Yeah!  Daria, could you tell us the real story of Cinderella?

Daria:

I told you last time:  Cinderella skipped the ball and asked her fairy Godmother to make her the first woman president.

Tad:

Come on, Daria, we know you can do better than that.

Daria:

(rolls eyes)  Jane?  Help me out here?

Jane:

It starts like this:  Once upon a time…

Daria:

Jane, I know where you sleep, and I can cut you.

Tad and Tricia:

Pleeeeease?

Daria:

Oh, okay.

Tad and Tricia:

Yay!!

Daria:

(VO) Once upon a time –

Jane:

(VO) Tuesday, specifically.

Daria:

– there was a kingdom nestled among green valleys.  Like most kingdoms, this one had an artificial class structure which pretty much determined from moment one of your life whether you’d be royalty, or whether you’d spend your days crawling in the dirt competing with rats for food.

Jane:

A tradition carried on to this very day in high schools across the nation.

Daria:

Our story concerns one of these dirt-scrabblers.  She lived with her stepmother and stepsisters, who had fallen prey to the stereotype that has plagued non-traditional families ever since by being mean and nasty to the poor girl.  Her name was –

Jane:

Quinnderella.

Quinn appears on the scene, lugging a bucket of water from the well.  She’s dressed very unfashionably in a plain maid’s dress.

Daria:

Jane, you’re on very thin ice.

Jane:

Come on, Daria, let’s have a little fun with this story.

Daria:

Just for that, I’m going to write a story where you and Kevin run away together.

Jane:

Anyway, Quinnderella was compelled to work like a slave from sunup until sundown so that her stepsisters could concentrate on being popular and fashionable.  Her stepmother was simply a lazy cow way past her prime.

Linda:

(OS) Quinnderella!  Get in here right now!

Quinnderella runs into the house, sloshing water all the way.

Linda:

Where the hell have you been, you little wench?  I’ve been waiting almost three and a half minutes for that water.  I was beginning to think you’d fallen in, but I knew I couldn’t be so blessed.

Quinnderella:

But stepmo-OM, it’s so far to the well and the bucket’s so heavy and my shoes are ruined from coming through that muddy garden –

Linda:

Stop that godawful whining!  Sometimes I really don’t know why we keep you around.  Now, get that water on the fire and start heating it to exactly ninety-seven degrees for my footbath this instant, or I’ll give you something to whine about!

Quinnderella:

Yes, stepmother. (sigh)

Linda:

And when you’re done with that, get another bucket in here so you can scrub up that mess you made with your muddy shoes.

Quinnderella:

Yes, stepmother. (quietly) Bitch.

Jane:

But, as awfully as Quinnderella was treated by her stepmother, it couldn’t compare to the treatment she got from her stepsisters.

Daria:

Because everyone knows, parents can push you only so far.  Real torture requires a sibling.

Sandi:

Quinnderella!  Quinnderella!!!  Ooh, she’s going to pay for this one.

Stacy:

What did she do this time?

Sandi:

It’s my shoes!  They’re supposed to be lined up in order from pinkest to not-pinkest, and they’re clearly lined up according to how blue they are!

Tiffany:

That is sooooo wrong…

Sandi:

Tell me about it.  Just wait until I get my hands on her.

Quinnderella:

(coming up the stairs)  I’m coming!  I’m coming! (bursts into the room, hanging onto the doorframe for balance) What – pant – what is it, dear stepsister?

Sandi:

Quinnderella, just look at the mess in this closet.

Quinnderella:

What’s wrong with it?

Sandi:

Stacy, please enlighten Quinnderella as to what is wrong.

Stacy:

(consults notes) Ummm… Sandi thinks that her shoes aren’t sorted right.

Quinnderella:

But I did sort them, Sandi, I swear!

Sandi:

Quinnderella, I distinctly remember what I asked you to do with my shoes.  Perhaps you weren’t paying attention at the time.

Quinnderella:

But I did, Sandi, I sorted them from pinkest to non-pinkest just like you said!

Sandi:

Are you implying, Quinnderella, that I can’t tell when my shoes are sorted properly and when they are not?  Or are you suggesting that there’s a better way to sort them?

Quinnderella:

Oh, Sandi, I would never suggest that!

Sandi:

Then perhaps you could explain what you see in the closet that somehow my sisters and I are unable to see?

Quinnderella:

I sorted them with the very pinkest shoes here on the left side, and all the way down here on the right side are the very not-pinkest shoes… see?

Sandi:

Mm.  I see.  Well, that explains it then.  (Sandi tips the large shoe rack over so that the shoes are spilled all over the floor)  I would prefer to have them go right to left, if you don’t mind.  Make sure it’s done by tonight, I have an important rendezvous tonight with Lord Schuyler.

Quinnderella:

Yes, Sandi.  (she gets on her hands and knees and begins to pick up the shoes)

Tiffany:

I’m having a rendezvous too… make sure my blue dress is ready for me…

Quinnderella:

Of course, Tiffany.

Stacy:

Uh… Quinnderella, if it’s not too much trouble, I… could-you-do-my-hair-for-me-tonight-thank-you.  (Stacy leaves the room to join Sandi just outside)

Sandi:

Stacy, what have I told you about keeping Quinnderella in her place?

Stacy:

I’m sorry, Sandi!  I’ll try harder, I promise!

Sandi:

See that you do.

Tiffany:

Yeah…

Stacy:

Eep!

Quinnderella:

-sigh-

Jane:

This was pretty much a typical day for Quinnderella.  But it wasn’t a typical day for the rest of the kingdom.

Daria:

You see, The King was getting ready to retire, having been worn out from years of comfort, elegance, rich food and wine, luxury, and the responsibility of running the kingdom.

Jane:

He was ready to move on to the comfort, elegance, rich food and wine, and luxury and let someone else handle the hard part for a while.

Daria:

Just so you know in advance, Jane, if you make Trent the Prince, I will kill you with your own putty knife.

Jane:

Set up Quinn with Trent?  Please, he has more taste than that.

Daria:

Anyway, the King –

Daria:

– called his sons to him to inform them of their upcoming responsibilities.

DiMartino:

WHERE are those WORTHLESS little MORONS that I somehow managed to SPAWN?

O’Niell:

(approaching from behind) Your Highness, please consider your royal blood pressure!  The young princes will be along in a moment, I sent the Captain of the Guard after them not half an hour ago… Oh dear, that is rather a long time, isn’t it.

DiMartino:

Let me get this straight.  You sent WHO to get my IDIOT SONS?

Kevin:

(in full captain’s uniform with shoulder armor) Hey, did I hear someone call for me?  I’m the Captain.

DiMiartino:

I assume, Captain, that your total lack of CONCERN over your own PERSONAL WELL BEING indicates that you’ve CARRIED OUT my Prime Minister’s INSTRUCTIONS – and brought those three CRETINS who were, by some chance, born with royal BLOOD (eye pops out fiercely) in their veins???

Kevin:

Umm… nope.

DiMartino:

Captain… let us PRAY that our kingdom is never ATTACKED by anyone, thus COMPELLING you to actually LEAD an ARMY into BATTLE to DEFEND US!!

Kevin:

Sure thing, King!  Hey… that rhymed!  Cool.

O’ Niell:

(Before DiMartino can have a stroke) Oh, here they are, your majesty!

sound of breaking glass offscreen.

Princes:

(arguing together) Hey, that was probably expensive!  Well, you knocked it over!  No I didn’t it was him!!  I didn’t go near the thing!

DiMartino:

SONS!!  Get OVER here!!

Enter - Joey, Jeffy, and Jamie, each wearing typical 15^th century royal outfits, with fencing swords at their sides.  Each of them has hair something like Prince Valiant – meaning Jamie actually doesn’t look any different than usual.

Jeffy:

Hey, Dad, did you need something?

Joey:

Only can you make it quick, ‘cause, like, there’s some milkmaids in the back garden waiting for us.

Jamie:

Hot ones, too!

DiMartino:

Boys – surely it hasn’t escaped your ATTENTION, limited as it may be, that you’re all about to turn EIGHTEEN this year.

J’s:

Yeah!  Cool!  Rocks!

DiMartino:

AND, by the LAW of the LAND, you must each be MARRIED by your EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY!!

J’s:

Aw, man!  No Way!  Bummer!

DiMartino:

SO… have ANY of you chosen a prospective WIFE yet??

J’s:

Ummm… Well… Errr…

DiMartino:

ARRGH!   I’ll be stuck running this kingdom FOREVER at this rate!!

O’Niell:

Um… Your Majesty, I have a suggestion…

DiMartino:

(Fixing a rabid-dog glare on O’Niell) WHAT!!

O’Niell:

Eep!  I mean, Sire – it strikes me that what your sons need is to get to know the women of the kingdom, and build close, nurturing relationships with the women they may choose – women from outside the castle walls.

DiMartino:

(a little calmer – just a little, though) AND?

O’Niell:

Oh!  And, so why don’t we arrange a ball!  And invite all the maidens of the kingdom to attend.  Surely, with your entire kingdom to choose from, they can find suitable brides.

DiMartino:

(sits back and thinks) Prime Minister, you may be ON to something!

O’Niell:

Wonderful!  I’ll have invitations printed right away.  Captain?

Kevin:

I’m the Captain!

O’Niell:

See to it that the word is spread throughout the land:  There will be a ball a fortnight hence here at the castle.  All marriage-eligible maidens must attend.

Kevin:

Huh?

Joey:

Invite all the babes in the kingdom to a party.

Jeffy:

In two weeks.

Jamie:

At our place.

Kevin:

Cool! (leaves)

DiMartino:

Explain to me again exactly WHY he’s in charge of ANYTHING around here?

Daria:

Naturally, the obvious solution to all the troubles in the kingdom was to throw a party.  So, The Brave Captain of the Guard set forth to spread the word to all the fair maidens of the land.

Jane:

He traveled far and wide, over hill and dale, through forest and plain.

Daria:

Until he found his way back to the castle, asked for directions, and set out toward the village instead of away from it.

Brittany:

Prithee, noble sir, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?

Kevin:

Hey babe, wanna go to a party?

Brittany:

Oooo, a party!  I can’t wait!  But, with whom shall I go to the ball?

Kevin:

You can go with me, Babe!  I’m the Captain of the Guard!

Brittany:

Sounds great!  (she grabs him and starts sucking face)

Daria:

And so, the Captain of the Guard –

Kevin:

That’s me!

Daria:

distributed invitations to all the people in the kingdom.

Sandi:

So, it’s agreed.  In order to present the finest possible appearance, we will cinch our corsets an additional quarter inch.

Tiffany:

Doooes this corset make me look faaaat?

Sandi:

Of course not, Tiffany.  The entire point of a corset is to make you look thin!

Tiffany:

Ooohhh.

Stacy:

Um… Sandi, it’s kind of hard to breathe as it is.  Don’t you think we’re taking this a little too far?

Sandi:

Let me show you something.  Quinnderella!

Quinnderella:

(Looks up from her scrubbing) Yes, dear stepsister?

Sandi:

Stand up for a moment.  (she does)  Now, take a look sisters.  Here we have an excellent example of what happens when you let yourself go.  Notice the dishpan hands, the droopy expression, the muddy shoes.  And, most importantly, the lack of a proper corset.

The girls look Quinnderella up and down.  Standing in her plain maid’s dress, her hands dripping with soapy water, she’s not exactly at her best.  She does have bouncy hair, however.

Sandi:

Do you want this to happen to you?

Stacy & Tiffany:

No! (Stacy looks a little guilty about it)

Sandi:

All right then.  Quinnderella, I believe you have some important scrubbing to do?

Quinnderella sighs, gets back on her hands and knees, and continues scrubbing.

A knock on the door perks her up.

Linda:

(Walking in from offscreen) Now, who could that be.  Quinnderella, I don’t hear scrubbing!

Linda opens the door to reveal Kevin.

Kevin:

(ducking) Don’t hit me!  Er, I mean, Good day, my lady.  Are you the mistress of this household?

Linda:

What do you want?

Kevin:

I’m the Captain of the Guard!

pause

Linda:

And…

Kevin:

Oh!  And, I need to invite all the maidens in the house to a huge party at the castle.

(sound of many feet coming to the door.  Sandi, Tiffany, and Stacy poke their heads around the doorframe expectantly)

Sandi:

Party?

Stacy:

At the Castle?

Tiffany:

Cooool…

Kevin:

Why, yes, my ladies.  I have invitations here for all of you.  See, the princes need to get married, or something, and they want to check out all the babes in the kingdom to decide who they want to shack up with.  The King told me to invite everyone! 

Stacy:

Even the unpopular maidens?

Kevin:

I don’t know, do you have any?

Linda:

(snatching the invitations and talking quickly) No, no one else here at all, just me and my three girls.  Well, I’m sure you’re busy, ta-ta, see you at the castle! (she starts to close the door)

In a rare moment of clarity, Kevin catches a glimpse of red hair beyond the door.

Kevin:

Hey, who’s that chick?

Quinnderella turns to see what all the commotion is about.

Linda:

Oh, that’s just the maid, she can’t go to the ball.

Kevin:

I don’t know… the King said to invite everyone…

Linda:

I’ll invite her for you.  Go away.  (she slams the door in Kevin’s face)

Kevin:

(muffled, coming from outside) Oww!  Man, this job sucks!

Quinnderella:

Who was that?

Linda:

Quinnderella!  Scrubbing!

Sandi:

Mother!  All my dresses are hideous!  They are, like, so last season!  I can’t go to the ball in any of these!

Stacy:

I can’t do a thing with my hair!

Tiffany:

Does this dress make me look fat?

Linda:

(looking over her shoulder) Ix-nay on the all-bay, girls…

Quinnderella:

(enters, pushing a broom around)  Did I hear something about a ball?

Stacy:

Well –

Linda:

Yes, there’s an enormous dustball behind the china cabinet.  Off with you now, get it cleaned up!

Quinnderella departs.

Linda:

(smacks Sandi on the back of the head) What’s the matter with you?  Do you want more competition at the ball?

Sandi:

Oww!  Mother, she’s just the maid!  What difference could it make if she goes or not?

Linda:

Two words:  Bouncy hair.

Tiffany:

Ooh, she’s right, Sandi.  Quinnderella does have really bouncy hair.

Linda:

But that’s not the point.  The point is, we have a really good chance of scoring one or more princes here, and I don’t want that little wench messing things up.

Stacy:

But, I need Quinnderella to fix my hair!

Sandi:

I need her to adjust my dress!

Tiffany:

I need her to… um…

Sandi:

Finish your sentences?

Tiffany:

Um…

Linda:

Fine, use her however you want.  Just make sure she doesn’t go to that ball!

Daria:

Unbeknownst to the scheming step-people –

Jane:

– but, entirely beknownst to us –

Daria:

Quinnderella was hanging on every word in the next room.

Jane:

And she was bound and determined to go to that party.  She just needed a loophole, maybe some information from someone not terribly bright who might let something slip in a careless moment.

Stacy:

So I told him, like, I am not that kind of maiden!  I don’t care if he’s the Duke of Earl, I don’t raise my petticoats for any old Sir Loin of Beef who comes along!

Pull out to reveal Quinnderella doing Stacy's hair.

Quinnderella:

Gee Stacy, you really put him in his place.

Stacy:

Gosh, Quinnderella, do you really think so?  That’s so…  so… but you know what the worst part is?  Two weeks later, I saw him courting Sandi!  I can’t believe he would dump me for her!

Quinnderella:

Oh, Stacy, you’re way cuter than Sandi is.

Stacy:

Do you really think so?

Quinnderella:

Well, duh!  And after I finish with your hair, you’ll be the cutest maiden in the entire kingdom!

Stacy:

Oh, I hope so.  After all, all the maidens in the kingdom are going to be at the ball.  I need to make a really great impression.

Quinnderella:

Oh, come on, I don’t think all the maidens will be there.

Stacy:

It’s true!  The invitation said that the king ordered all the maidens in the kingdom to come to the Ball.

Quinnderella:

(evil smirk) Oh… really?

Quinnderella:

But Stepmo-OM, the King ordered all the maidens to come, and I couldn’t disobey the King, could I?

Sandi:

Gee Stacy, I wonder where Quinnderella could have found out something like that?

Stacy:

Eep!

Tiffany:

Um… finish my sentences?

Sandi:

Oh, learn to keep up, Tiffany!  Mother, she can’t go to the ball!

Linda:

But, dear, the King has ordered it.  And we must do what the King says.

Sandi:

But Mother –

Linda:

Oh, come now, Sandi, don’t you think Quinnderella will look wonderful in a flowing satin gown and tiara, all dressed up properly for the ball?

Quinnderella:

Um, stepmother, I…

Linda:

You do have a gown to wear to the ball, don’t you dear?

Quinnderella:

Well, I was kind of hoping I could borrow one…

Linda:

Oh, but Quinnderella, that would never do!  I really don’t think you would fit into any of the other girls’ gowns.  Besides, they’d have the wrong hemline for someone of your body type.  It must be your own.

Quinnderella:

Er…

Sandi:

(finally catching on and smirking wickedly) Of course, you could always wear what you have on.  I hear stable-muck brown is making a comeback.

Jane:

Despite these words of discouragement, Quinnderella was undaunted.

Daria:

It takes a lot more than a few discouraging words to daunt her.

Daria:

Finally, the day of the ball arrived.

Jane:

Nowhere was the ball more eagerly anticipated than the home of Quinnderella.

Sandi:

(offscreen) Quinnderella!  Where the hell are you?  I need you to take in my ball gown!

Quinnderella:

-sigh- Coming, dear stepsister…

Sandi:

Thank goodness Master Cashman at the marketplace had this gown.  Green suits me so well, don’t you think?

Quinnderella:

-yawn- Yeah, whatever.

Sandi:

Quinnderella!

Quinnderella:

Huh?  What?

Sandi:

Pay attention to what you’re doing!  I said, green suits me so well, don’t you think?

Quinnderella:

Hmm?  Oh, Sandi, you look good in anything!

Sandi:

That’s what I thought.

Tiffany:

(offscreen) Quinnderella!

Tiffany:

Pull it tighter, Quinnderella.  I don’t want to look fat.

Quinnderella:

How’s this? (Quinnderella plants a foot on Tiffany’s back and pulls the cords out about three feet.  Tiffany goes red in the face almost immediately.)

Tiffany:

(strained) …perfect…

Quinnderella smiles a bit, then winces as she hears…

Stacy:

(offscreen) Quinnderella!

Stacy:

Oh, that’s not right either!  Sometimes, I wish I could just put it in a pair of braids and be done with it.

Quinnderella:

(quietly) You and me both.

Stacy:

What?

Quinnderella:

Oh, nothing.  -yawn-  Say, I’ve got an idea…

Linda:

Well, we’ve waited nearly a full minute for Quinnderella.  Obviously the ball’s not very important to her.  Shall we go, girls?

Quinnderella:

(offscreen) Wait!  I’m coming!  I’m ready!

Everyone looks back in astonishment to see Quinnderella coming down the stairs.  She’s dressed in a pink-and-white gown, her hair pulled back and around by Stacy’s clip.  Even hurrying down the stairs, she looks stunning.

Linda:

(astonished) Where – where did you get that?

Quinnderella:

Oh, this old thing?  I just threw it together.

Sandi:

(livid) I know where she got it!  That’s the dress I wore to the Devonshire Ball two years ago!

Stacy:

Hey!  That’s my hair clip!

Sandi:

Give that back!  It’s mine!!  (she grabs the front of Quinnderella’s dress and rips it.  Quinnderella stays mostly covered by the corset)

Tiffany:

Hey… I think that’s my spare corset… (for once, Tiffany’s face attains an actual expression, and it’s not a happy one)

Stacy:

I want my hair clip back!  (she snatches the clip off Quinnderella’s head, and the complicated hairstyle falls apart.)

Tiffany:

(advancing on Quinnderella) Take off (gasps for breath) my corset!

Quinnderella covers herself in terror.

Tiffany:

(appraising the situation)  Nah.  Keep it.  It makes you look fat anyway.

Linda:

Come on girls, we’re off to the ball.

Quinnderella:

But… what about me?

Sandi:

Why don’t you just make a dainty garland for your head and sing?

Everyone leaves except Quinnderella, who looks heartbroken and devastated.

Quinnderella:

God, this is, like, so UNFAIR!  Why don’t I get to go to the ball?  I’m so cute!  (She catches her reflection in a window – hair disheveled, dress ripped, makeup smeared)  Okay, so I’m having a bit of a crisis moment.  Oh, this sucks!

Quinnderella sits down on a wrought-iron bench and pouts.

Quinnderella:

I wish I got to go to the ball…

Helen:

(offscreen, and with an echo)  Then so you shall, Quinnderella…

Quinnderella looks in surprise behind her, and sees Helen emerge from a sparkling cloud of special effects.  She looks like nothing so much as Glinda, the witch of the North from the Wizard of Oz.

Quinnderella:

Who are you?  And why are you wearing that sequined gown with lacy straps?  That is so fourteenth century!

Helen:

I’m your Fairy Godmother, Quinnderella!  And I’m here to see to it that you get your wish to go to the ball.  Nothing shall stop me from fulfilling your dreams – (a ringing sound interrupts her) – one moment… (she flips out a cell phone, the antenna of which ends in a little star like a magic wand)  Hello?  Yes?  The Snow White case?  Dammit, that was supposed to be settled! (pause) Look, I don’t care if we’re facing a countersuit from the damn dwarves, I’m working on something really important right now! (pause) Well,