The Plot in a Nutshell
(a Daria/Pinky and the Brain crossover)
By
Dr. Belch
[opening title sequence to DARIA--"You're Standing On my Neck" by Splendora--plays]
[Show opens with a shot of the exterior of Acme Labs, then dissolves to interior shot of PINKY and BRAIN inside their cage. PINKY, as usual, is running on his wheel. BRAIN is standing at the far side of his cage with his hands behind his back, facing the bars.]
PINKY: Gee, BRAIN, what'cha wanna do tonight?
BRAIN: The same thing we do every night, PINKY... [turns and faces audience, tiny fist in air and face in shadows]...try to take over the world!
[theme song swells and plays: "They're Pinky and the Brain", etc., etc.]PART ONE
ACT I, scene 1[Fade in on Acme Labs, interior. The scene is darkened but for quick sporadic flickers of light, as if from a TV in the BG. The camera plays over countertops covered with typical laboratory clutter: beakers, graduated cylinders, chemicals, a Bunsen burner, a test tube rack, etc. The title flashes at the bottom of the screen in white letters as BRAIN's voice--the deep, rich tones of Orson Welles--fills the silence. He speaks in careful, measured tones.]
BRAIN: The humble peanut. In Spanish, it is called el cacahuate. It is the pride and joy of both former President Jimmy Carter and of Dr. George Washington Carver, who discovered one thousand uses for this wonderful multipurpose legume. Tonight I, the Brain, have discovered the 1001st use--[voice rises a bit]--global domination! [The camera has panned in on BRAIN during this speech; he is standing next to a thick biography of G.W. Carver placed upright and open before him. He pauses, ponders over the book for several seconds, then turns.] PINKY, I need you.
PINKY [from his accustomed seat in front of the lab's TV]: I'm over 'ere, BRAIN. [Camera pans in on PINKY and the TV. The audience can now see what it is PINKY is interested in. BRAIN walks up behind PINKY and glances at the screen casually. The theme and logo of "Sick Sad World" is heard and seen briefly, then--]
ANNOUNCER's VOICE [superimposed over an image of a man seated in a chair, his face electronically distorted]: This man claims to be a high level paid assassin for the Clinton administration. Is there any truth to his claim?
[pan in on the MAN]REPORTER [off camera]: How many deaths have you been responsible for?
MAN [voice electronically distorted to sound like Ned from "South Park"]: I whacked Vince Foster and left his body in Ft. Marcy Park to make it look like a suicide. I arranged to have Ron Brown shot on that plane over the Middle East by a kamikaze gunman, had the plane crash and kill everyone aboard to hide the evidence and make it look like an accident, then burned the X-rays of his skull myself; I killed James MacDougal in prison. Heart attack, bull[bleep]. [distorted chuckle]
REPORTER: Who is next on your hit list?
MAN: Yo' mama. [another distorted chuckle]
ANNOUNCER: That's next up on "Sick Sad World"!
PINKY [thoroughly impressed, in a breathy voice]: Na-aa-arf!
BRAIN [thoroughly disgusted]: Turn that garbage off, please. Conspiracy theories are for small minds and left-wing whackoes.
PINKY: But, BRAIN--
BRAIN: I said now, PINKY. [PINKY reluctantly obeys, stepping on the remote with his foot. The TV clicks off.] Tonight's plan to take over the world has two parts, my friend. The first part involves a common, everyday household item with a multitude of purposes. It can be used for minor cleanup jobs, decorating trees and houses in childish Halloween pranks, and to augment the flat chests of prepubescent girls. Do you know what this marvelous invention is, PINKY?
PINKY [uncertain, tentatively]: Ummm...toilet paper, BRAIN? [winces in preparation for a blow to the head]
BRAIN [pleased]: Yes, PINKY. Correct. Perhaps you are not a complete and utter loss after all.
PINKY [overjoyed]: I got it right! I got it right!! [dances about] Heeheehahahaha! Zort!! [He gives BRAIN a rousing backslap, causing him to stumble. His forward momentum carries him facefirst into the book of Carver, which slams shut with BRAIN inside and hurtles over the edge of the table. PINKY runs to watch helplessly as the book hits the floor with a thud.]
PINKY: Poit! Oh...I've done it now! {scrambles hurriedly down the leg of the table and over to the book. He opens it and flips pages until he finds a very flat--and furious--BRAIN pasted to one of the even-numbered pages.] I'm sorry, BRAIN!
BRAIN [slightly dazed]: Did you know that this book has an entire chapter devoted to peanut butter recipes?
PINKY [interested]: Smooth, or crunchy? [peels BRAIN off the page and flaps him like a towel to pop him back into shape. BRAIN seizes PINKY's snout and glares angrily into his eyes.]
BRAIN: Thick and nutty...much like you, PINKY. [releases the nose in his grip and paces away a few steps, hands behind back. PINKY giggles stupidly and emits a "poit". BRAIN looks back at him.] But back to the plan. You see, PINKY, humans take toilet paper--a rather plentiful and relatively inexpensive commodity--for granted. They purchase by the roll, the package, the family pack. Six rolls for a dollar. A family pack for two-fifty. When administering it, some people use a basic wad-and-stuff motion; others prefer the "beehive" technique. But--[hand in air]--suppose there WAS no toilet paper?
PINKY: Egad, BRAIN! Brilliant! [going from excitement to confusion] But...um...'ow'll you pull it off?
BRAIN: From over the roll, my friend. [dry laugh]. Ha. Ha. Ha.
PINKY: Oh, BRAIN! You're funny! Troz!
BRAIN: I am not wholly devoid of the ability to make an off-the-cuff humorous remark. But I fear I digress. My point, PINKY, is that we shall make arrangements to buy out the word's supply of toilet paper.
PINKY: But 'ow?
BRAIN: Simple, my dense friend. We'll simply make a few phone calls to every major toilet paper and toiletry manufacturer on the planet and buy out their entire inventory...using my top secret world domination slush fund account.
PINKY: You mean that shoebox of cash you 'ave buried under the junk'eap in the alley behind the lab?
BRAIN [sighs]: Semantics aside...once we have purchased the goods, we shall store them in the abandoned concrete bunker under the facility. It was built during the Cuban missile crisis in the early sixties, but never used and eventually forgotten. It will be perfect for storage. And now for the second part of my plan. Do you know what that is?
PINKY: Er...ah....Yes! I do! We put on funny-looking rubber masks and sheets and then we run about going door-to-door ringing doorbells and asking for candy--and if they don't give us any, we T.P. their 'ouses! Narf! We'll T.P. the whole bloomin' country! We'll T.P. the WORLD!! Troz!!
BRAIN [exasperated and thickly sarcastic]: Yes. We'll cover the planet in T.P. And maybe we'll put a giant flaming sack of dog excrement on the White House lawn.
PINKY [anxiously]: Oh, BRAIN, can we? That's be so much fun-fun-silly-willy! Heeheehahahahahahaha!! Narf! Poit! Zort!!
[BRAIN can no longer restrain himself. He kicks PINKY in the butt and sends him flying. He flops down on the floor and rolls over, giggling idiotically.]
BRAIN: I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself.
PINKY [ceases laughing, jumps to his feet, and dusts himself off]: I try.
BRAIN: Once we have the world's toilet paper in our possession, we shall implement part two of the plan. There exist certain military satellites in space that are capable, if properly calibrated, aligned, and conjoined, of magnetically altering the orbit of the planet on its axis. Even a tiny alteration in the planet's revolution will affect global weather patterns--i.e. precipitation. More rain means that the crop yields will double--no, triple. But there is one crop that interests me more than any other. An opportunity, PINKY, to redeem yourself in my eyes. Can you guess which crop I refer to?
PINKY [ponders a second]: Um...one of them toilet trees you mentioned before?
BRAIN: Peanuts, PINKY. Peanuts. A very versatile and delicious foodstuff...but overconsumption of them can lead to excess water vapor collecting in the digestive tract, thus resulting in intestinal spasms, discomfort, and excessively liquid bodily excretions.
PINKY: You mean a right wicked case of the 'ershey squirts, BRAIN?
BRAIN [raises an eyebrow at PINKY's crude slang]: Ye-es, PINKY, in the vernacular. [clears throat.] Due to the plentifulness of peanuts, the low prices and peoples' own hubristic tendencies will lead them to consume them in excess...thus rendering themselves helpless with fits of explosive diarrhea. but without toilet paper to wipe themselves with, they will be trapped in their bathrooms experiencing foul and painful stomach discomfort until doomsday. With the world stuck on its collective toilet, everything will shut down. Schools...factories... transportation...government...the media. With no one around to run these institutions, we shall step in and commandeer the reins. This--[bumping the table leg to send a shelled peanut teetering over the edge falling into his arms]--precious little legume will be my key to ruling the world! [kisses the peanut. An aside:] Mmmm...salty. [comes back to himself] We stand on the crux of a new age, PINKY. Are you pondering what I'm pondering?
PINKY: Well, I think so, BRAIN. But if Othello was the Moor of Venice, who was the less?
[BRAIN hefts the peanut in his hands and clobbers PINKY with it, cracking the shell and sending the kernels flying. PINKY staggers, dazed, then giggles again. BRAIN tosses the split shell away and continues speaking]
BRAIN: No, my friend. The plan, much like you, is simple. Take away the world's toilet paper and render them completely helpless to their own bodily functions.
PINKY: Um--no, wait, wait. What if people decide to wipe their bums on the towels, BRAIN?
BRAIN [doesn't miss a beat]: Nonsense. People would never use the towels for the purpose of wiping themselves. It's socially impolite. you must understand that there are certain societal norms--
PINKY [interrupting]: Heeheehahahaha!! What a fun word you 'ave there, BRAIN! Mind if I pinch it for me vocabulary? [bugles in a thick, throaty tone] NORM! NORM! NORM!! Heeheehahahahahahahaha!! NORM!!
BRAIN [stands on tiptoe and looks him square in the eye]: Put a cork in it, PINKY, or I will be forced to beat you mercilessly. [PINKY gulps. BRAIN turns around with hands behind back and walks off. PINKY's attention turns to the peanuts lying on the floor, and he runs over to them and sniffs them, licking his lips. Zip pan to BRAIN, not looking at PINKY but seeming to have eyes in the back of his head.] And don't eat those. They'll upset your stomach. [Too late. Zip pan back to PINKY, whose cheeks are bulging and his mouth full of chewed-up peanut. He swallows.]
PINKY [in questioning tone]: Norm?
BRAIN {approaches him with a mean smile on his face]: You ate both those peanuts after I explicitly told you not to, didn't you?
PINKY: Er--no. [PINKY's stomach gurgles loudly, betraying him. It sounds like someone blowing air through a straw into muddy water or a clogged drain coming unstuck. PINKY suddenly clutches his stomach, whoops, and runs into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.]
BRAIN [pleased at this display, throws his hands into the air]: YES!!
act I, scene 2
[Montage shots of THE BRAIN walking across the pages of phone books, carefully consulting the listings; talking into the mouthpiece of a giant telephone with the reciever leaned up against some books, and making marks on a blackboard with a piece of chalk the size of his fist as he crosses names off a list. BG MUSIC: P&B theme, instrumental.]
[A black screen with large white letters: "4-6 WEEKS LATER". Dissolve to overhead shot of Acme Labs, where BRAIN is furiously pacing back and forth in front of the door, casting furtive glances every two minutes. PINKY is sitting a short distance away, playing with his toes and giggling.]BRAIN [grunts frustratedly]: Blast it all! The first shipment of toilet paper was due to be delivered days ago! Oh...I fear all those hours of consulting phone directories and endlessly dialing digits were for naught! [heaves angry sigh]
PINKY: You should have dialed 1-800-COLLECT. It saves up to 44% on the people you call most, anywhere in the United States, including Alaska, 'awaii, and Puerto Rico. Narf!
BRAIN: Can it with the inane celebrity testimonials, PINKY, or I shall have to--in the Negroid vernacular--break a cap inside your gluteus maximus. You're being a--
[BRAIN's rant is interrupted by the sound of letters tumbling through the mail slot, and he eagerly races over to the pile and proceeds to shuffle through it. PINKY joins him, holds up a letter, and squints at it, reading slowly.]
PINKY: "Nom...eavah...advebev...avawah...uahoha...Ha ha ha! Zort!! Look at this silly thing, BRAIN!
BRAIN [flatly]: Turn it right-side-up and read it, PINKY.
PINKY: Oh-hh! Ha ha! Troz!! [flips the letter over, looks at it, and gasps] 'ey, BRAIN! You might already 'ave won ten trillion dollars! But they right misspelled your name, they did. O-C-C-U-P-A-N-T.
BRAIN: Never mind that. [siezes a letter and tears it open with gusto] Why should human money interest me when, once the population is confined to their toilets, it shall be worthless as--as--
PINKY: Umm--toilet paper, BRAIN?
BRAIN [scowls]: I'll pretend I didn't hear that. {pulls the letter out of the envelope and reads it. A moment later he howls furiously, his eyes bulging and threaded with red veins.]
PINKY: Egad!! What is it, BRAIN?
BRAIN [breathing heavily and swallowing thickly, angry beyond belief]: Those blithering idiots at the post office have misplaced my mail! They were supposed to deliver it to THIS address--but they transposed the last two digits, and now some other party is recieving MY delivery! The world's entire supply of toilet paper is in the hands of--[consults the address]--HELEN and JAKE MORGANDORFFER of Lawndale.
PINKY [thoroughly amused]: Heeheehahahahahahaha!! [in a throaty tone] MORGANDORFFER!! Heeheehahahahaha!!
BRAIN {with a disapproving look and tone]: It isn't polite to make fun of people's names, PINKY. Stick to "narf" and "poit" and [winces]..."norm".
PINKY: All right, BRAIN. [giggles] Norm!! Norm!! [giggles again]
BRAIN: We must figure out how to rectify this situation. I can't have the most important part of my plan winding up in the greedy grasping hands of mindless suburban yuppies. [The camera pans on a closeup of BRAIN, his face in shadows, tapping his chin with his finger as he ponders. PINKY stands in the BG. Suddenly he raises his hand and begins to "ooh" and "Ah" like an impatient child in a classroom. BRAIN sighs.] Yes, PINKY?
PINKY: 'ow about we write Mr. and Mrs. MORGANDORFFER and tell 'em there's been some kind of mistake and that we want 'em to send us our toilet paper back?
BRAIN: That's absurd. There's no way that would work. I can't believe you'd say such a stupid--[suddenly brightens]--YES!!
PINKY [runs over to him]: Egad, BRAIN, what is it?
BRAIN: In your own unique fashion, my friend, you've hit upon the solution. [The next part of this dialogue is superimposed over an image of PINKY and BRAIN climbing into a large box full of styrofoam packing peanuts. The MORGANDORFFER's address is clearly printed on the exterior of the box and there are air holes punched in the side and lid.] We shall mail ourselves to this address, and, once there, reclaim what is rightfully ours and drag it back here to the lab.
[Pan in on close-up shot of PINKY and BRAIN inside the box, hip-deep in foam peanuts. BRAIN is holding one flap of the box lid, PINKy the other.]BRAIN: Once I have their precious toilet paper--[lids close behind PINKY and BRAIN, muffling their voices]--the world will be on its bended knee!
PINKY: But I thought they'd be squattin' on the 'opper with the squirts--not barfin', BRAIN. [muffled bopping sound] Ow! Narf!! [high silly giggle]
[P&B theme, instrumental, swells as scene fades to black.]
act I, scene 3
[Fade in on an exterior shot of Acme Labs with a mail truck out front, gunning its motor. The side of the truck is marked FED-UP: "It'll get there when it damn well gets there." The truck drives away from the Acme Labs building. Cue up P&B theme, instrumental, and hold throughout following montage.]
[A whirling montage of shots culled from old black-and-white/color file footage of things like the exterior of a post office, a line of mail trucks driving down a road, a line of mailmen with bulging mailsacks marching down a long hallway with their backs to the audience, people dropping letters and packages through those little slots in the P.O. marked "local", "out-of-town", etc.; a shot of the other side of one of those things showing all the mail dropping into the same big canvas cart, letters being sorted and filed by a giant machine that drops them onto a little slotted conveyor belt, some stock news footage of crazy postal workers blowing people away with semiautomatics, etc. Then we see the package containing our two heroes--looking like two people with muddy boots threw it on the floor, stomped on it, then pulled down their pants and passed gas on it--rolling down a long conveyor belt through a little window-type thing with those plastic strips dangling over the opening.]
[Cut to exterior of the MORGANDORFFER house and play a burst of "la la la la la"s over it. Cut to interior shot of QUINN's bedroom. QUINN is looking at her reflection in her three-way mirror and holding a pink button shirt over her chest, pondering it and turning to and fro for the full effect, with one sleeve folded and the other spread out along her extended arm. BG MUSIC: "Pink" by Aerosmith.]QUINN: Uck! Guh-ross! [tosses away the shirt] That's MUCH too salmon! I need something in coral...or at least a dusky rose!
[DARIA passes by her open door, munching a kiwi fruit, and looks into the room at her sister, who is preening furiously at the glass. T-shirts and stuff are strewn all over the bed and floor.]
DARIA: Hmmm...looks like a cyclone just whacked a Gap.
QUINN [gasps]: God! Don't even joke like that! [holding up another shirt--carnation pink--poses with it, makes a face, then tosses it away in disgust. Glowers at her sister.] What in hell do you know about fashion, anyway? That field jacket and combat boots ensemble went out after we kicked that So-damn Insane guy's butt in the Golf War back in the 80's! [Camera pans on DARIA, rolling her eyes off to the side sarcastically at ther sister's impressive grasp of history. Pan back to QUINN, arms folded over her ample chest, then back to DARIA.]
DARIA: Well, not much... [picks up a hot pink leather miniskirt draped over the top of a nearby chair and holds it aloft between thumb and forefinger]...but I know enough not to put on a skirt so short I need to have two hairstyles to wear it.
QUINN [after a few seconds--it takes her a bit to figure out she has just been insulted]: Oo-ooh!! [snatches the skirt out of DARIA's hand fiercely] Get out of my room! [shoves DARIA out and slams the door hard]
DARIA [staring at the door, with the camera at her back, the half-eaten kiwi in her hand. To the closed door]: And I was going to be nice and offer you a bite of my kiwi, too. [walks down the hall to her room, finishing off her fruit. Camera follows her down the hall to the door, then cuts to the interior of DARIA's bedroom, where we see the top of a wooden crate filling the lower half of the screen. DARIA enters, licking her fingers, and pauses with her tongue out and the tip touching her middle finger. She steps in for a closer look at this mysterious foreign object, putting her tongue back in her mouth and lowering her hand.]
Great. Is Mom using my room for storage again? [pushes the lid, which is loose and ajar, aside, and a bit of loose straw spills out on the floor. She reaches into the straw and fishes out a package of Acme toilet paper.] Wha--?
[A black and white stop-frame shot of BRAIN whacking PINKY with a peanut, with a chorus of "la la la la la"s sung to the tune of the P&B theme in the BG.]
[cut to commercial]
act II, scene 1
[The scene dissolves to the interior of JANE's room. Several days have passed since the end of the last scene. BG MUSIC: Bob Dylan's "Queen Jane Approximately" from stereo. JANE is reclining on her bed next to a dissection tray filled with a mixture of clay and of various colors of paint. She reaches into the tray, scoops up a handful of the mixture, rolls it up into a ball, and--closing one eye and putting out her tongue a bit--throws it. Zip pan to other end of room, where the ball strikes an easel placed there with a satisfying wet THWACK. The splattered remains of several other paint-and-clay balls decorate the board in a similar manner.]
JANE [pleased]: Stee-ee-rike!
[The phone on the nightstand jangles, and JANE siezes an old towel nearby to wipe off her hands--she has shmutz clean up to her elbows. She lifts the reciever to her ear.]
JANE: Y'ello.
DARIA's voice: This is DARIA. Can you get over here pronto? I've got something here you might be interested in.
JANE [hopefully]: A "Sick Sad World" marathon?
DARIA: No--even sicker and sadder than that. [The screen splits in two halves, diagnally, JANE at top half and DARIA at the lower.] You'll never guess what's been coming in the mail all week. Get this--crates of toilet paper.
JANE: Toilet paper? Could be somebody's trying to tell you something, if you catch my drift. [balances phone on her shoulder to free her hands for rolling another clay-and-paint bolus] T.P., huh? That's pretty darn sick and sad, all right.
DARIA: What do you make of it?
JANE: Sculptures, sometimes...little water, flour, salt, and a couple rolls of the stuff make great paper mache for--oh, wait, you mean what do I think about it?
DARIA: Yeah.
JANE: Dunno. Maybe QUINN and the fashion clubbers need it for a big bra-stuffing seminar this weekend. You try talking to your folks about it?
DARIA: Captain Oblivious and Persephone, Queen of Hell, you mean? Lotsa luck. Every time another shipment comes in, Mom has the delivery boys stash it in my room. I asked her about it the other night at dinner, and she gave me something about my room being the biggest space upstairs, mumbled the words "menstrual cramp" and "headache", then-- [JANE finishes rolling the ball and lets it fly. Full screen pan on her. DARIA hears the THWACK as it makes contact.]--what the hell was THAT?
JANE: Oh--my newest masterpiece is in the works. I'm trying a new thing...lobism.
DARIA: Lobism?
JANE: You get a bunch of clay, squirt some paint in there [gives the goop in the tray a squirt of cadmium yellow, grabs up a handful, and rolls it as she talks] and [THWACK] let it fly.
[Screen splits again vertically--DARIA on right, JANE on left.]
DARIA: And people go for that kind of stuff?
JANE: Shoot, yeah. I just heard about a lobist who got $37,500 for a piece. Green paint and mud thrown at a canvas. Called it "The Tragedy of the Rain Forests".
DARIA: The tragedy here is that those artsy-fartsy types'll buy anything if they think it's uplifting and helps fund their pet causes.
JANE: You mean enslaving the populus and corrupting our kids' minds?
DARIA: Bingo. Look at the guy who took a piss in a jar and stuck a crucifix in it. What was he trying to say with that?
JANE: "Hey, look at this really cool kidney stone I just passed?"
DARIA: My point exactly. Why not just puke all over a canvas and sell it to some poor sucker?
[cut back to full screen of JANE.]
JANE: Oh, you mean bulimism. They don't sell for much more than fifteen, twenty grand--mostly because they're a bitch to keep up, especially on hot days. I heard of this one called "World Hunger" that was displayed during some show in New York City during July, right smack dab in the middle of this heat wave. Wooo!! [waves her hand in a damn-that-stinks motion] The smell cleared out the joint toot sweet, and a couple of the arts-and-croissants crowders fainted and had to be dragged out on stretchers. All in all, not worth wasting the price of a good meal on making one of those babies.
[Split screen again horizontally, DARIA at top and JANE on bottom.]
DARIA: You don't say.
JANE: Oh, I say. Last year, some guy came out with this new thing called "nasalism". He would chug down a swig of paint and then blow it out of his nose onto the canvas.
DARIA: Sounds like a charmer. Where'd you hear about that joker?
JANE: "Sick Sad World" documentary on art. His name was Pinkasso. Crazy little guy with a cockney accent, always giggling and saying things like "narf" and "poit". His manager was this dude with a big frigging head. They tried to pull off a scam to sell more paintings by claiming that Pinkasso was dead. Turns out he was very much alive all along, and when the artsy types figured it out, they ran both their asses out of town on a rail. A big riot kicked up, and they both just vanished. [makes spooky music with her mouth]
DARIA: Yeah...him and Jimmy Hoffa. [sighs, holds up a roll of toilet paper, and begins to toss it in one hand] So how do I make a ton of tushie dissue just disappear?
[cut back to JANE, full screen]
JANE [wryly]: I can think of several ways right off the bat, but none of them are fit to print.
[cut back to DARIA, full screen]
DARIA: Just get cleaned up and get on over here. I've got the goods stashed in the spare shed out back, by the compost heap.
[cut back to JANE, full screen]
JANE: Good palce for a load of T.P.--right next to a big pile of crap.
DARIA's voice on phone: Cut the quips, Gracie. Just be here in twenty. Bye.
JANE: Adios. [phone clicks. JANE places reciever back on cradle and begins to wipe her hands on her towel, her eyes closed and her head lowered. Then she stops and looks up suddenly, eyes wide.] Tushie tissue?!?
[Cue "SSW" theme in BG to connect the end of this scene with the openingof the next one.]
act II, scene 2
[Cut to MORGANDORFFER house, interior. "SSW" theme is thudding away as the scene opens. DARIA is seated on the sofa waiting for JANE and watching TV...although it seems her mind is elsewhere because her facial expression is blank and distant--well, more than usual, anyway. Camera moves to DARIA P.O.V. shot of TV, which is showing--natch-- "Sick Sad World".]
TV ANNOUNCER: Is the new revised television ratings system actually a secret code designed to give marching orders to liberal conspiracy group operatives working on college newspapers across the country? [show image of a college campus with a newspaper front page covered with TV ratings blocks superimposed over it] That's next up on "Sick Sad World"!
[closeup of the show's rating--TV14--appearing in the top left corner. Camera on DARIA.]
DARIA [to herself]: And I thought the whole shebang was just a plot to give America free eye exams. [tosses remote into the corner of the sofa]
[QUINN, wearing a lavender button shirt open over her baby tee, bell-bottom jeans with big pink hearts stitched on her back pockets, and the same atrocious coral lipstick she had in "Pinch Sitter", breezes in, passing behind the sofa.]
QUINN: Did I hear Johnnie Mack's car outside?
DARIA: You mean the guy you've been talking dirty to over the phone every night for the past six months and have pledged your undying love to forever and a day, even though this is the first time you've ever met face to face?
QUINN [chipper, not missing a beat]: Yeah. If fives didn't look so much like sixes on a push-button phone in a bad light, I might never have gotten to know him at all. Is he here?
DARIA: Not yet. I'll call you when. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do, little miss I-can-get-three-fingers-between-my-legs.
QUINN [shocked]: Oooh!! Have you been listening to my private phone conversations?
DARIA: No. I would never do anything so horrible. [pause, slight smile] I had JANE listen to them and then run down all the juicy stuff for me.
[Camera zip pans to QUINN, who is trembling furiously. Zip pan back to DARIA, holding the TV remote up and clicking to another channel. DARIA P.O.V. shot of screen to see FLIP WILSON dressed as Geraldine.]
FLIP WILSON [in a high piched voice]: What you see is what you get! [laugh track plays] Ooooh! I'm gonna get Killer after you! [laugh track]
[QUINN takes a deep bosom-heaving breath and prepares to yell for her mother, but then stops and turns her head when the doorbell chimes.]
DARIA: Ah...that old familiar bing-bong.
QUINN: I'll get it. [starts to head for the front door]
[Cut to outside of the house. JANE is standing on the porch holding a small and rather dog-eared package in her hands, turning it over and over and examining it. Camera pulls in for a close-up of the package. Dissolve to interior shot to show BRAIN and PINKY, amongst a nest of styrofoam peanuts, sliding about and bumping into the sides.]
BRAIN [colliding into the left side and nearly buried in foam peanuts]: By the food-stained beard of Copernicus! What in the devil is going on out there? I--
PINKY [off-camera]: 'eads up, BRAIN!
BRAIN: What? [grunts sharply as PINKY collides sharply with him and the two are covered in foam peanuts]
[Cut back to close-up of JANE peering at the package in her hands, trying to see into the air hole. QUINN opens the door suddenly, startling her and causing the doorknob to knock the package out of her hands. It hits the step and then bounces into the air, landing on the sidewalk. The sound of PINKY and BRAIN grunting as the box impacts on the concrete is heard twice.]
QUINN [disappointed]: Oh, it's just you. [suddenly furious] And don't go blabbing to my sister how many fingers I can get into my bodily orifices! [kicks the package violently, sending it flying into a tree. A muffled "oof" and a "narf" are heard upon impact.]
JANE [a bit perplexed at this outburst]: What bug crawled up YOUR butt, miss pert 'n' perky?
[QUINN opens her mouth and heaves another figure-enhancing breath, preparing to let JANE have it, then hears a car horn honk from off-camera. QUINN P.O.V. shot of a red Dodge Viper across the street, a shadowy figure waving from the driver's seat.]
QUINN: Ooh! That's my ride! Bye-eee! [skips off, passing by the tree where the package is lying and steps on it in her exhuberance. Pan down the drive to QUINN entering her date's car and on the car as it peels out.]
[Cut to interior of MORGANDORFFER house, with DARIA still watching TV on the sofa. HELEN breezes by, talking rapidly into her cell phone.]
HELEN: Okay, Eric. I'll be at the office in twenty minutes. Fifteen, if I make all the lights. [brief pause] Don't worry, Eric, I'll have the research on the Schittana Shingle Corporation suit wrapped up and on the big guy's desk by dinnertime. [pause] Yes, the usual drill. Cancel all my other appointments, route all my incoming phone calls to the outer office, order in Chinese--Double Happy, extra egg roll, plenty of soy sauce. Got it covered? Oh, Eric, you know me so well. [titters girlishly] Bye. [clicks off phone. To DARIA:] Okjay, honey. There's TV dinners and a big jug of Kool-Aid in the fridge for you, QUINN, and your father. Microwave the dinners for one minute, take them out of the oven, turn the mashed potatoes with a fork, put them back in, and let it cook for two more. You know the drill. Buh-bye. [kisses DARIA on the top of her head. Her face remains unchanged. HELEN goes to the window to wait for her carpool, tapping her foot impatiently.]
[JAKE breezes in a moment later, half in and half out of his suitcoat, his tie loose, his shirt-tail untucked, and slurping coffee from a mug.]
JAKE [to DARIA]: Got a big client to meet with today, kiddo, so I won't be home in time for dinner. Sorry. There's TV dinners and Kool-Aid in the fridge for you and your sister. Nuke 'em for one minute, stir the potatoes with a fork, and let 'em cook for--
HELEN [by the window, not looking around]: I already gave her the cooking instructions, dear.
JAKE: Oh. Okay. [throws back his head and slurps down the last of his coffee. A car horn honks outside; he turns his head and asks in a hopeful tone:] Is that my carpool?
HELEN: It's mine, JAKE. [another honk] That's yours.
JAKE: Gotta go! See ya later, kiddo. [ruffles her hair with his left hand and puts his empty mug in her hands with his right. DARIA's eyes show her contempt for this, though her face remains blank.] He and HELEN nearly bowl JANE over on the porch, causing her to step out of the way abruptly and nearly tumble into the bushes. The camera pans along, following them across the yard (going stage right), and in the rush HELEN tramples on the package by the tree, then JAKE steps on it. A few seconds later BUDDY (the gritty-voiced canine from "Spring Break in Hell"--boy, when he gets out of the yard and runs off, he REALLY runs off!) dashes in from stage right (to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel" played on the harmonica, tempo prestissimo, in the BG), steps on the package, looks behind him furtively, then bolts out of the scene going stage left. A moment later a grotesquely obese dogcatcher with a huge flabby beer belly and a net in one hand enters stage right, steps on the package, pauses, then resumes the chase, heading stage left. By now the package containing PINKY and BRAIN resembles a tattered, filthy accordion. JANE enters stage left, picks up the package, and takes it into the house. Cut to interior.]
JANE [holds package in right hand, closes door with left]: Where're the parental units off to in an all-fired hurry?
DARIA: I don't know. [sets JAKE's mug on the table] Mom said something about drilling her boss on her desk, covering him in Double Happy, and turning him over with a fork after one minute.
JANE: And your old man?
DARIA: I think they're letting him watch. [notes package] What's that?
JANE: It's for you. [hands it to her] Ipassed the mail truck on the way over here, and the mailman asked me if I knew this address. I told him I was headed that way, so he asked me to see it got to you. So here ya go.
DARIA [reads the red stamped address on the box's side]: "ACME LABS". Hmm. Funny. My samples of anthrax virus weren't due to be delivered for another couple of weeks. [shakes package, hears a rattle]. Looks like it went through hell to get here.
JANE: Must have been another postal strike. Damn unions.
DARIA: Mm-hmmm. [puts her ear on the package, eyebrows raised] That's the damndest thing.
JANE: What?
DARIA: Thought I heard a noise. [presses her ear closer. Pull in for a close-up of the box and dub in muffled-sounding voices from within.]
BRAIN [groaning in pain]: When...does...the hurting...stop?
PINKY [oddly chipper]: Oh, I think it's stopped now, BRAIN. Wasn't that ride just fun-fun-silly-willy? Narf!
BRAIN: Yes, PINKY. Now...please do me a favor and push that broken rib protruding from my anal orifice back into place, would you?
PINKY: Oh, it's not so bad in 'ere, BRAIN. [chewing] And these peanuts are great! Poit! And these don't make my stomach feel all goo-ooo-oo-ooshy like them others did!
BRAIN: Those are styrofoam packing peanuts, PINKY. I've told you that before. Now please stop the shenanigans and try to focus on our mission.
[Cut to shot of JANE and DARIA, staring at the package in astonishment.]
JANE: I'll be damned! A talking box!
DARIA: Give me your penknife. I'll cut it open.
[JANE produces a Swiss army knife from her back pocket and depresses the button in the handle. A four-inch blade pops out. She passes it to DARIA, who draws her arm back and plunges the knife into the package. Cut to interior shot of the box, where BRAIN and PINKY are pressed against the side of the box in terror, staring wide-eyed at the probing metallic intruder and looking for all the world like a bit in a "Three Stooges" short film. The blade draws back, and a torrent of light pours in as there is a thick, loud ripping sound--the lid tearing open. Cut to exterior shot of DARIA lifting the box up, turning it upside down, and pouring out a shower of foam peanuts, as well as BRAIN and PINKY, who hit the surface of the table and bounce like little rubber balls.]
JANE [surprised]: Eww! Rats!! [siezes a nearby telephone book--a big thick one--and slams it down on top of them. She lifts the book to show BRAIN and PINKY squashed flat on the table.]
DARIA: Who in hell would want to send me a box of rats?
JANE: Early birthday present from Grandma?
[Closeup of BRAIN peeling himself up off the table with one hand, making a thick noise like Velcro tearing, and popping back into shape. The shot shifts angles to show the girls' faces towering over BRAIN, whose back is to the camera. They change from bland regard to twin wide-eyed looks of surprise as BRAIN speaks.]
BRAIN: We are not rats, madame. We are two genetically-enhanced laboratory mice who have delivered ourselves parcel post as part of an intricate scheme to take over the world!
[JANE and DARIA turn their heads and stare at each other with looks of "Do you believe this shit?"]
[A black and white stop-frame shot showing a four-way split-screen of images of QUINN, HELEN, JAKE, nd BUDDY trampling the package in their haste, with a chorus of "la la la la la"s to the tune of the P&B theme in the BG]
[cut to commercial]
act III, scene 1
[Scene opens exactly as it closed out before, fading in to show DARIA and JANE staring at BRAIN and then at each other. Note that all through this scene the camera angle should switch back and forth as it cuts to show shots of both the girls and the mice.]
DARIA: I'm going crazy. Did I just hear that mouse talk?
JANE [raises phone book]: Want me to whack 'em again?
BRAIN: That won't be necessary, madame. My companion and I have simply come in search of something that was sent here by mistake.
JANE: What's he talking about?
DARIA: Maybe he's come for QUINN. Maybe after fourteen years, the stork realized there was a clerical error in the shipping department, and this is his repo guy.
BRAIN: I'm afraid I don't know what in blazes you're talking about. I'm afraid you've been recieving misdirected mail that rightfully belongs to me, and I need it back desperately.
DARIA: I don't suppose you mean a few thousand rolls of Charmin.
BRAIN: Yes! Where is it?
DARIA: In the shed out back. But why--?
BRAIN: No time. Come, PINKY. [siezes PINKY's hand and tugs it, popping him back into shape, and prepares to scurry off, but JANE nimbly seizes BRAIN in her left hand and PINKY in her right.] Ugh!! You unwashed savage! Release me this instant!
JANE: Not until you tell us what the score is, Bobby Big Head.
BRAIN: The name is BRAIN, madame.
JANE: Don't call me madame. The name's JANE LANE.
PINKY [singsong]: Egad! JANEY and BRAINY, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-E-I-E-I-O! Narf! Zort! Heeheehahahahaha!!
BRAIN: Move me closer to my associate, please, Miss LANE. [JANE moves her left fist closer to her right. BRAIN frees his hand from inside her fist, bops PINKY a good one in the noggin, then tucks his fist back inside hers.] Thank you. That was quite...cathartic.
JANE [squints at PINKY]: You look familiar to me. Hey...wait a sec--! DARIA, this is Pinkasso, the guty I told you about!
DARIA: The guy who blew paint out of his nose and called it art?
PINKY [embarassed giggle and snort. Modestly]: Actually I called it a big mess. Poit! BRAIN called it art when 'e needed money to fund 'is scheme to put two big speakers at the ends of the earth and torture the world with the sound of a big drippy faucet.
BRAIN: No, that's what I started that ritzy nightclub in Vegas for. I stated nasalism to fund my scheme to stick mirrors in the surface of the moon and turn it into a giant disco ball.
PINKY: I thought that's what you became leader of the Rhennish clan of Minnesota to do.
BRAIN: No, you're confused. I led that quaint and backwards lot of people in an attempt to mine a rich load of sinusite for my plan to render the world helpless with fits of sneezing.
PINKY: So we could break into Ft. Knox and steal all the gold to fund a plan to buy a giant magnet to throw off the world's gravity.
BRAIN: No,no. I wanted to steal the gold to render the nation's economy helpless, and I used a special pollen derivative I cooked up to render the guards sneezing and helpless. I went on a game show to earn the funds for the magnet.
PINKY: Which you used to bring the earth to life to do your bidding.
BRAIN [impatient sigh]: No, that was an accident you caused through your bungling with one of my devices, a machine that harnessed the aura of inanimate objects and gave them life.
PINKY: Like the statue of Abe Lincoln in the Washington Monument.
BRAIN [angry sigh]: The Lincoln Memorial, PINKY. And no, that was us hiding under the statue pretending that President Lincoln had come back to life. Honestly, you have the short-term memory of a piece of fecal matter.
PINKY [touched]: Oh...thank you, BRAIN. You too.
JANE [shakes her head sharply to clear it]: Wait. Hold it. I'm all mixed up. How often do you two goobers try to take over the world?
BRAIN: To date, there have been nearly 100 attempts.
JANE: Like...every single night?
PINKY: And twice on Saturdays. [BRAIN scowls sharply at him; he flinches and pulls back, with an apologetic grin.] Troz?
BRAIN: Ahem. Yes. My associate and I have suffered a few...setbacks. In fact, that is why we're here. The misappropriated toilet paper you've been recieving was supposed to be sent to Acme Labs...but there was an error in shipping due to the last two digits becoming switched.
DARIA: And now I'm the proud owner of enough toilet paper to sop up Lake Michigan?
BRAIN: I am the rightful owner of the commodity in question, Miss MORGANDORFFER--
DARIA: DARIA. Please.
BRAIN [impatiently]: --and I must ask you to return it. It's of no use to you. I must have it stored away under Acme Labs before I can commence with the second part of my plan.
JANE: Swipe everyone's soap so they can't bathe either?
BRAIN: No, that would be ridiculous. [grandly] I plan to increase the world's peanut crop in order to confine the population to their toilets with explosive diarrhea!
JANE: Um-hmmm. And that's NOT ridiculous?
DARIA: What I can't figure out is how a lab rat--
BRAIN [indignant]: Mouse!
DARIA --mouse managed to buy up all the toilet paper on the planet.
BRAIN: Very simple. I made a phone call to every bathroom goods manufacturer on the seven continents and asked them to send me their entire stock C.O.D., A.S.A.P.
PINKY [whispers]: Um...I think these girls know 'ow to spell, BRAIN.
[BRAIN growls at PINKY savagely, who flinches and "poit"s apologetically.]
DARIA: So they just gave you what you asked for, no questions asked?
BRAIN: Yes. Humans are extremely gullible, trusting creatures.
[JANE's fist suddenly closes around BRAIN, producing a cracking sound and making his eyes bulge out. She releases the pressure, and he emits a hacking cough.]
BRAIN [weak, pained]: Present...company...excluded, of course.
[JANE smiles self-satisfieddly.]
PINKY: Oh, yeah. They sent 'im everything they 'ad--just like the time me and 'im built a life-size model of the world out of paper-mache, and BRAIN 'ad to order all them newspapers. Poit! 'e ordered a few thousand copies of every newspaper in the world....well, except the Arkansas State University 'erald, of course.
BRAIN [sniffs]: Well...I do have my standards, after all.
PINKY [leans closer to JANE and whispers]: BRAIN 'asn't been the same since they got rid of 'is favorite columnist. Oo-oooh! Troz!!
BRAIN: [grandly]: They shall regret their mistake and rehire him...mark my words.
PINKY [sigh}: Right, right. Whatever you say, BRAIN.
DARIA: A life size model of the world? You mean Chia Earth?
BRAIN: Yes!
DARIA: I saw an expose about that on Sick Sad World a couple of years back--right before my family and I packed up and moved out of Highland and came to live here in Chia Lawndale. Lots of new Chia people, nice Chia house, plenty of available Chia jobs.
JANE: Nice Chia pitch. You should get a job with Chia Century 21.
DARIA: Have you ever noticed that when you say a word over and over again like that, it just starts to sound silly?
JANE: No. Can't says I have. Hmmmm....Highland... Highland...isn't that where those two guys you were telling me about lived?
DARIA: Oh, yeah...those two. They died right before I left the old neighborhood, right before the comet trashed the old world.
JANE: I dunno...I heard on "Sick Sad World" that it was all an elaborate hoax pulled by two deviant masterminds.
DARIA: I don't know about that. But it's possible that the comet got them.
JANE: We can only hope.
[Cut to scene of BEAVIS and BUTT-HEAD's house, interior. They are watching TV together on their threadbare sofa. Both are wearing "I LOVE CHIA WORLD" T-shirts.]
BUTT-HEAD: Uh...Chia World sucks.
BEAVIS: Heh,heh. Heh,heh. Yeah. Gimme the Chia remote, BUTT-HEAD.
BUTT-HEAD: Like, no way...Chia buttknocker.
BEAVIS [screaming]: Don't call me Chia buttknocker!
[The two fall to the floor, fighting violently, kicking and punching and hollering.]
[Cut back to DARIA's house, interior. JANE is still holding BRAIN and PINKY in her fists.]
DARIA: So how do you and Trent like Chia World so far?
JANE: We haven't told him yet. My folks and I just picked up and moved everything to Chia Lawndale...including Trent. He slept right through the whole move. He doesn't know the difference.
DARIA: And the giant half-finished paperwad in the sky didn't tip him off?
JANE: What can I say? Boy don't get out much.
DARIA: Mm-hmmm...so let me get this straigh, Mr. BRAIN. You made about ten zillion phone calls to the newspaper companies as part of a plan to slap together a model of the world and get every human being on the planet out of the way. Now you're making ten zillion phone calls to the toilet paper plants as part of a plan to give the world the runs and get every human on the planet out of the way.
BRAIN: Well...yes. I fear repetition is the scourge of genius, my dear
DARIA. [DARIA scowls slightly at this epithet, but says nothing.]
JANE: Maybe you just need new writers.
PINKY: Oh...'e tried that, too, JANE. Right after 'e tried to 'arness steam power to give every bloke in the world tight, tingly 'ats, but about the same time 'e used these steam-powered legs to dance out a 'ypnotic message to control everybody at the World's Fair.
JANE: Damn, I'm confused. Did he build Chia Earth before or after he brought the planet to life?
PINKY: Oh...before that. 'e brought the world to life just after 'e dressed up as Cher to get into a pro-am golf tournament to win this right smart metal golf club 'e wanted to use as a needle to tattoo "PROPERTY OF BRAIN" on the planet. Of course, before BRAIN made Chia Earth, 'e tried to take over France by pretending to be Napolean Boney-parte, and before that, 'e tried to start up 'is own country in order to get a big fat aid check from the government. But then the 'ole bloomin' island went up in a bi-ii-ig volcano! Bang! Zoom! To the moon, Alice! Zort! And then there was this one time 'e wanted to around the world in seventy-nine days to beat out this bloke what looked like David Niven, 'e did, and 'e'd 'ave made it too, except we 'ad a bit of trouble with this cab driver in New York what looked like Latka from Taxi and we couldn't figure out 'ow to speak 'is language. [laughs, snorts] And then there was the time....[prattles on nonsensically]
JANE [murmurs]: My ears are bleeding. Make the hurting stop. Please.
BRAIN [weary sigh, interrupts PINKY]: Thank you, Mr. Exposition. It's comforting to know you keep a record of all my past snafus.
DARIA: Why not just throw in the towel and give up this obssession with taking over the world?
PINKY: Oh--'e did that, too. Tell 'er, BRAIN.
BRAIN: Very well. I created a device to see into the future, and what I saw, I didn't like. I was old, grey, senile, and still trying to take over the world even though I could barely recall my own name. In the throes of a midlife crisis, I had a heart-to-heart talk with my neighbor--
PINKY [interrupts]: --that nice Mr. Sultana, who accidentally got our red rubber nub in the mail that one time, remember, BRAIN?
BRAIN: Yes, PINKY--and it's interesting to note that the mail service hasn't changed a bit since then. [glowers nastily at JANE and DARIA, then continues]--with my neighbor, Mr. Sultana. He suggested a change of life. I consulted with an expert, who suggested that I had the sufficient aptitude to become a--[shudders]--ski instructor.
JANE: What happened with that?
BRAIN: I nearly died in an avalanche. If it hadn't been for PINKY and that accursed future-seeing gadget--
DARIA [finishes]: --you'd have been a frozen treat for a cat.
BRAIN [raises eyebrow]: Ye-es...something along those lines. Now if this little detour down menory lane is concluded [wiggles out of JANE's grip and hops down onto table. PINKY follows his example.], I have some business to attend to.
[JANE's hand comes down and blocks BRAIN's escape off, forming a wall between him and the table edge.]
JANE: Not so fast, Speedy.
BRAIN: You have me confused with another mouse, madame.
JANE: How's a little squirt like you going to move a couple of thousand pounds of squeezably soft goodness? Eat a can of spinach?
[BRAIN's eyes widen as he realizes he failed to calculate this part of the plan. In a flat, defeated tone:] PINKY...she's right. Are you pondering what I'm pondering?
PINKY: Well, I think so, BRAIN. But I don't think my tongue is long enough to lick myself all the way down there.
BRAIN [angry grunt]: No, PINKY. Don't you get it? We can't possibly transport all that toilet paper from here to the lab alone. We lack the physical strength and stature for such a Sisyphian task. We require assistance.
JANE [raises her hand]: We'll do it.
DARIA [raises her eyebrow]: We will?
BRAIN: Excellent! [eyes narrow suspiciously] What's the catch?
JANE: No catch, Shorty. When you and Slim take over the world, just don't forget to cut off a slice of the pie for us. I've got dibs on Hollywood and San Francisco. Always wanted my own freak show. DARIA?
DARIA: Well...I have always like the shape of Baja California. Looks like we're peeing on Mexico.
BRAIN: Done. It's yours. In addition to your labor, my assistant and I need a neutral base of operations from which to launch out attack, and the lab is too much of a hot spot. Any ideas?
JANE: Why not right here?
DARIA: Right where?
BRAIN: Very well. I'll require a new identity, however, to be able to move about inconspicuously.
JANE [sotto voce, to DARIA]: A talking mouse is worried about other people figuring out who he really is?
DARIA [sotto voce, to JANE]: How often do you see a mouse who can talk? He's short, articulate, crabby, abusive, and has a head like a casaba melon. He could pass for Danny DeVito.
JANE [snaps her fingers]: I've got it. Hasn't your mom been looking for a tutor for QUINN?
DARIA: Yes...she's been flunking Spanish class really badly lately. All she can seem to remember is what she's picked up standing in line at Taco Bell...and she can barely get that right.
BRAIN: That's excellent. I do have a working knowledge of the language as a result of being forced to listen to a series of "Schnookered on Phonics" tapes as part of an experimaent on subconcious linguistic second language acquisition.
JANE: Does Slim there speak Spanish, too?
BRAIN: No...I fear PINKY was used for the tests of a rather unsuccessful prototype of the company's other language series, "Schnookered on Ebonics".
PINKY: Poit! Yo, yo, yo! Pink-Daddy is in the his-ouse! Bust a move and bust a rhyme and pump up the jam, homeboy, home slice, mack-daddy, befo' I bus' a cap in yo' skank ass, you punk motha'[bleep]ers! Narf! Zort! Heeheehahahahaha!! [dances about like M.C. Hammer]
BRAIN: You do the honors...I insist.
[JANE brings down her fist sharply on PINKY and withdraws it, showing PINKY flattened like an accordion on the tabletop.]
JANE [massages her fist with her hand]: You're right. That IS cathartic.
BRAIN: Then it's agreed. I shall pose as a live-in Spanish tutor as a cover while we transport the world's supply of toilet paper to the bunker below Acme Labs. And once that's done, we can commence with part two of the plan.
DARIA: Which is?
BRAIN: No...I've said too much as it is. I shall tell you when the time is right. [extends hand] Agreed?
DARIA [sotto voce, to JANE]: Are you sure we're doing the right thing, going along with Rizzo the Rat in taking over the world?
JANE [sotto voce, to DARIA]: Don't sweat it, kiddo. If nothing else, it'll make a great term paper for DiMartino's class. That bulging eye of his'll pop right outta its socket. And taking over a planet always looks good on a college application. [DARIA scowls] Besides, if we don't like the way Mickey here is doing things, we'll give him to Brittany's little brother to play with. No sweat.
BRAIN [hand still extended]: Well?
DARIA [to BRIAN, with a resigned sigh]: Agreed. [offers hand]
[Close up of Brain shaking tip of DARIA's index finger. Fade out on this image, with the P&B theme, instrumental, tempo prestissimo, in the BG.]
act III, scene 2
[Dissolve to MORGANDORFFER kitchen, interior, following evening. The family is together around the table, with DARIA at the head, QUINN seated to her right, and JANE and HELEN at her left. They are in the middle of dinner--lasagna, as usual, with corn-on-the-cob and ruffle-cut french fries smothered in melted cheese on the side. Dinner is a silent affair, with nothing but the sound of clinking flatware and nervous fidgeting. HELEN's sickeningly sweet voice breaks the silence.]
HELEN: So-ooo-oo-o, QUINN....how was your lunch date with Jimmy Ray?
QUINN: Johnnie Mack, Mom. And it was terrible! He had, like, this big unibrow [indicates it by running index finger across forehead] from here to here! Uck! Guh-ross!
DARIA [murmurs]: Maybe you should have shown him your three-finger trick. That'd impress Mr. Cro-magnon. [QUINN gasps and shoots her a dirty look.]
JAKE [chipperly oblivious, as usual]: A trick, eh? I once dated this girl who could do tricks. She could shuffle tarot cards with one hand and pull coins out of your ear with the other. Ooh-hoo-hooo! And with her tongue, she could--
HELEN [sharply]: JAKE!
[JAKE falls silent.]
QUINN [gasps, flounces]: I don't do tricks, Dad.
DARIA [murmurs]: Most guys around here can't meet her price.
[QUINN makes an absolutely horrid face--like the one she made in "Pinch Sitter" (after DARIA called her "unbelievably deceitful and shallow")--at her sister, arching her eyebrows and putting her tongue out. When her parents look at her, the face is gone and she's all peaches-and-cream again.]
[The doorbell rngs from the direction of the living room.]
DARIA: Yep. That's the old familiar bing-bong.
JAKE [rises from table]: I'll get it. [exits stage left]
[Cut to shot of living room interior. JAKE enters stage right and heads for door. The old familiar bong-bong does its thing twice more.] JAKE: Dammit, I'm coming, I'm coming! Keep your drawers on, fella! [reaches door, opens it. Camera angle switches to exterior shot of doorway to show JAKE's confused face. He sees no one on the porch.]
voice of BRAIN, off-camera: Down here, sir.
[JAKE P.O.V. shot as camera pans down to two diminutive figures on the porch--PINKY and THE BRAIN. BRAIN is smartly dressed in a three-piece suit cut to fit him, with accomodations for his tail. He wears tiny pince-nez spectacles and a fake black beard. PINKY is dressed head to toe in a tiny uniform of the sort favored by Catholic schoolboys--tiny jacket with a crest on the pocket, white starched shirt, shorts, knickers, shiny black shoes, and a knit cap, which he doffs respectfully.]
BRAIN: Allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Don Juan Montgomery Braindulce, and this is my protege, Ignatz Pfutzenreuter Rembrandt III--known as "PINKY" to his schoolchums.
JAKE: I see. What can I do for you, Professor Braindulce?
BRAIN: It is what I can do for you, Mr. MORGANDORFFER. I was told you had a daughter whose performance in her Spanish class is less than stellar. I was referred her by one Mrs. ANGELA LI.
JAKE [bluffing]: Oh...oh, yes, of course! I--ah--remember my wife telling me that. Please come in, Professor.
PINKY: Egad! We're in, BRAIN! Narf!
JAKE [eyebrow raised]: Narf?
BRAIN: Eh? Ah...yes. Er...that is an all-purpose greeting native to the dialect of certain parts of northern Spain...high up in certain remote mountain villages. It signifies both "hello" and "goodbye"--like "aloha" or "ciao".
JAKE [believing every word]: Oh! Ha! Ha! Ha! [makes a Vulcan sign with his first two digits] Narf to you, young man! Live long and prosper, and may the force be with you! Ha! Ha! Ha! [turns and heads in the direction of the kitchen. BRAIN siezes PINKY's nose in his grasp and looks him square in the eye.]
BRAIN: Control your moronic outbursts before you get us both thrown out of here. Understand? [PINKY nods]
[Cut to interior of kitchen. JAKE enters, grinning from ear to ear.]
HELEN: Who was at the door, dear?
JAKE: A new Spanish tutor for QUINN, honey! Isn't that great!
QUINN [sulkily]: I don't need a Spanish tutor. It's not like I'm ever going to Spain or something.
HELEN: Now, honey...you know that a foreign language requirement is a law according to the school board in this state.
QUINN [being snotty]: Well, you're a lawyer! Why don't you change it?
HELEN: Nothing doing, QUINN. JAKE, bring in the tutor.
[JAKE steps aside to admit BRAIN and PINKY. PINKY looks about the kitchen with a dopey look on his face. BRAIN bows deeply.]
BRAIN: Greetings, Madame. I am Don Juan Montgomery Braindulce, the Spanish tutor your daughter's school sent over.
PINKY: And I am Igneous-um-something-something-poit-whatever-shire-the third...or something! Narf!
JAKE [goes up to HELEN and whispers in her ear]: That means "hello" in Spanish.
[Fast cut to DARIA, who is drinking milk, and we see her eyes rolling over the rim of the glass.]
HELEN: Forgive me for asking, but is that boy all right?
BRAIN: Yes. you must forgive young PINKY. His English isn't very good.
PINKY: But I speak English fine, BRAIN.
BRAIN [grits teeth]: You speak English very poorly, PINKY.
PINKY: Oh! right! Zort! I speak English right poorly, so I do! Narf!
[QUINN's face is the dreamy expression of a girl having some delicious orgasmic fantasy. She leans her head on her palm and her elbow on the back of her chair as she tilts her head to get a better look at PINKY. QUINN P.O.V. shot of PINKY, superimposed over a hazy pink background. BG MUSIC: strumming harps and twittering birds.]
QUINN [breathy, dreamy voice]: PINKY....
[DARIA gags and chokes, spewing milk out of her mouth all over the table surface. No one bothers to show concern or pat her on the back. She scowls slightly at this lack of sympathy.]
[Cut back to shot of QUINN, still with that orgasmic look on her face.]
[Cut to half-screen, QUINN on left, credits on right. Dissolve to character morphs over left side. END CREDIT MUSIC: "Tiny Montgomery", Bob Dylan and the Band, "The Basement Tapes", 1975.
VOICE CAST:
TRACY GRANDSTAFF................................................Daria
WENDY HOOPES.......................................Quinn, Jane, Helen
MIKE JUDGE..........................................Beavis, Butt-Head
MAURICE LAMARCHE................................Brain, "SSW" reporter
ROB PAULSEN.....................................................Pinky
JULIAN REBELLEDO.................................................Jake
JONATHAN M. SWEET...........................man in chair, Flip Wilson
?....................................................."SSW" announcerSESQUIPEDALIAN
____________________
USING BIG WORDSDARIA voiceover: Last week on "Daria"--
[clip #1-- BRAIN: ...we shall make arrangements to buy out the world's entire supply of toilet paper!
[clip #2-- JANE: And that's NOT ridiculous?
[clip #3-- BRAIN: Peanuts. A very versatile and delicious foodstuff....]
[clip #4-- BRAIN kicks PINKY in the ass.]
[clip #5-- BRAIN whallops PINKY with peanut.]
[clip #6-- BRAIN: ...but overconsumption of them can lead to excess water in the digestive tract....]
[clip #7-- JANE whallops PINKY with phone book.]
[clip #8-- QUINN slams door in DARIA's face.]
[clip #9-- JANE's fist whallops PINKY.]
[clip #10-- DARIA spitting milk on the table.]
[clip #11-- ...thus resulting in intestinal spasms, discomfort, and excessively liquid bodily excretions.]
[clip #12-- JANE's paint-and-clay bolus striking canvas.]
[clip #13-- BRAIN bopping PINKY in JANE's fist.]
[clip #14-- PINKY backslapping BRAIN into book.]
[clip #15-- PINKY: You mean a right wicked case of the 'ershey squirts, BRAIN?]
[clip #16-- BRAIN: YES!!]
[clip #17-- DARIA: And I thought the whole shebang qas just a plot to give America free eye exams.]
[clip #18-- BRAIN looking at letter and howling furiously.]
[clip #19-- BRAIN's voice superimposed over shots of HELEN on the phone and JAKE half undressed, saying, "The world's entire supply of toilet paper is in the hands of HELEN and JAKE MORGANDORFFER of Lawndale."]
[clip #20-- BRAIN and PINKY in package. BRAIN is saying, "We shall mail ourselves to this address (superimpose voice over shots of package getting kicked, trampled, and cut by giant switchblade) and, once there, reclaim what's rightfully ours....]
[clip #21-- PINKY and BRAIN fall out of package onto table.]
[clip #22-- BRAIN: We require assistance.]
[clip #23-- JANE: We'll do it.
DARIA: We will?
[clip #24-- BRAIN and DARIA shake hands.]
[Fade to black.][opening title sequence to DARIA--"You're Standing On my Neck" by Splendora--plays]
[Show opens with a shot of the exterior of Acme Labs, then dissolves to interior shot of PINKY and BRAIN inside their cage. PINKY, as usual, is running on his wheel. BRAIN is standing at the far side of his cage with his hands behind his back, facing the bars.]
PINKY: Gee, BRAIN, what'cha wanna do tonight?
BRAIN: The same thing we do every night, PINKY... [turns and faces audience, tiny fist in air and face in shadows]...try to take over the world!
[theme song swells and plays: "They're Pinky and the Brain", etc., etc.]
PART TWO
ACT I, scene 1[The following morning. BG MUSIC: P & B theme, instrumental. Dissolve to extreme closeup of the surface of a chalkboard. Then a tink pink hand gripping a big piece of chalk writes in a large blocky style the letter E. The camera pulls back in oder to reveal THE BRAIN standing in the chalk tray of a giant chalkboard holding the ckalk in both hands. His name--PROF. BRAINDULCE--is written in neat caps at the bottom of the board. Camera pans over a shot of QUINN's room, with the addition of the chalkboard and two classroom-style desks. QUINN is seated at the left; PINKY, perched atop a pile of books, on the right. P & B are both in their disguises. QUINN is making goo-goo eyes at PINKY.]
BRAIN: Greetings, class, and welcome to Basic Introductory Spanish I. I am your teacher, Professor Braindulce. Today we shall be examining the differences between "ser" and "estar", conjugating a few simple "-ar" and "ir" verbs [PINKY starts waving his hand in the air and "ooh ooh"ing excitedly. When BRAIN fails to notice him, he starts waving both hands and "ooh"s louder], and, if we have the time, we may examine masculine and feminine noun endings and how they correlate to the endings of their respective adjectives-- [he notices PINKY at last and breaks off with an impatient sigh] Yes, PINKY. What do you want?
PINKY: Poit! May I go get a drink of water, BRAI--er--Professor Braindulce?
BRAIN [sighs]: Yes. You may.
PINKY: Woo-hoo! Zort! [leaps off the pile of books onto the floor and races happily out the door. QUINN starts raising her hand and "ooh"ing for attention.]
BRAIN [sighs again]: Spit it out, QUINN.
QUINN: I don't think I need Spanish in my life, Professor Braindulce. I mean, I have all I need to get by.
BRAIN: Oh, really? If life were all about getting by, my child, then that would be all well and good. But it isn't. Tell me--just how much Spanish do you know?
QUINN: Um-- [counts on fingers]--taco...enchilada...chimichanga... guacamole...burrito grande...lasagna....
BRAIN: That's Italian, QUINN.
QUINN: Oh. I meant to say...crepe sousette.
BRAIN: That's French.
QUINN: Schnitzel?
BRAIN: German.
QUINN [gasps]: God! I am so out of it!
BRAIN: Perhaps it would help to figure out where your interests are.
QUINN: Oh...that's easy. One, clothes. Two, bouncy hair. Three, boys. Four, school. [ticks off each on her fingers]
BRAIN: Are you sure you don't wish to pause and reconsider your priorities?
QUINN: Mmmm...nope.
BRAIN: Very well. From what you've told me, and from what I see here [noticing QUINN's overstuffed closet], you are very interested in haberdashery. Correct?
QUINN: No...just clothes.
BRAIN: Yes...well...suppose you purchased a garment that had a label saying "Lavar en lavador en agua tibia con colores similares. Secar en secadora a tempertura baja." What would you do?
QUINN: Get a salesgirl to translate for me.
BRAIN: Forget the salesgirl. There is no salesgirl available.
QUINN: Find the label instructions in English.
BRAIN [exasperated]: There are none! [sighs] The garment is made of 100% "algodon"...cotton. What would happen if you washed it in hot water?
QUINN: The shirt would shrink up and pinch my boobs! Duh!
BRAIN: Yes. The washing instructons clearly say "Machine wash in warm water with like colors. Tumble dry low." If you can understand how to read the label instructions in another language, you can avoid having your -- ah -- mammaries constricted by a confining garment.
QUINN: Oooh...I think I'm going to like this class.
BRAIN: Okay...now...the Spanish word for "a shirt" [writes it on the board] is "una camisa". Repaeat that, please. "Una camisa".
QUINN: Una camisa.
BRAIN: Now..."los pantalones" [writes it] means "pants". Repeat that, please.
QUINN: Los pantalones.
BRAIN: Good. "Los zapatos" [writes it] means "shoes". Repeat, please.
QUINN: Los zapatos.
BRAIN: Excellent! "Underwear" is "la ropa interior".
QUINN: La ropa interior.
[Fade out with image of BRAIN and QUINN in silhouette, the P & B theme instrumental in BG.]
act I, scene 2
[Dissolve to JANE's room, interior. DARIA is sitting on the floor next to JANE's bed, looking a bit more down than usual. JANE enters the room with a sleeping bag and spreads it on the floor.]
JANE: Hell, it's no four-post queen, but it'll do. Did the Dragon Lady really give PINKY and THE BRAIN your room?
DARIA: Yep...QUINN offered to let PINKY bunk with her, but my dad got that bulging vein thing in his forehead, and Mom's like [imitating HELEN's syrupy voice] "not in my house, little missy", so they decided to let those litle rats crash in my room for the next week or so. I actually don't give a crap as long as they don't start chewing the padding off the walls and pooping under my bed. So, anyway, here I am. Mom said it was all right if I bunked here with you. You sure it's OK?
JANE: It's cool. Unless [wry smile] you'd like to spread your bag on Trent's floor for the night. I warn you, though--he snores like a buzzsaw, and you don't want to be around him after he eats a batch of that five-alarm chili he makes. Gets so bad sometimes you can actually see a heat shimmer around his butt.
DARIA [nose wrinkled]: Thank you, Barbara Walters.
JANE: Anytime. So...we start moving the goods manana?
DARIA: Yepper...Acme Labs is just a half-hour's drive from here. We'll need to make a lot of trips to get all that T.P. unloaded...is The Tank up to it?
JANE: We gave it a pretty good workout on the way to Athens...but Max said it's up and running again. He gave me a lot of technical talk and mechanical mumbo-jumbo...but it all boils down to the same thing...gumwads and Scotch tape under the hood.
DARIA: As long as loading that first roll of tushie tissue doesn't completely blow the shocks, then I'm satisfied.
JANE: Great. All signs point to go, then. [momentary pause, then to herself] Tushie tissue? [Fade out on quick burst of "You're Standing on My Neck", instrumental, electric guitar.]
act I, scene 3
[Dissolve to QUINN's room, nearing the conclusion of QUINN's Spanish lesson. Scene opens very similar to as it did in scene one, except QUINN's progress in Spanish has notably improved.]
BRAIN: QUINN...What would you say to the salesgirl if you purchased a pair of trousers that were too tight for you?
QUINN: "Perdoname, senorita, pero esos pantalones me demasiadan apretato."
BRAIN: And if your shirt had a stain on it?
QUINN: "Mi camisa es sucia."
BRAIN: And if you wished to look at a pair of brown shoes?
QUINN: Brown shoes? Uck!
BRAIN: Very well. Red shoes, then.
QUINN: Oh! OK! "Me deseo a mirar a los zapatos rojos, por favor."
BRAIN: Excellent! Excellent! You've done very well today, QUINN.
PINKY [raising hand]: Oh! I've gotone too, BRAIN! Ahem! "Puedes tu poner el sopa en mi bolsillo y vomitar en mi sombrero?" Narf!
BRAIN [an exasperated sigh]: PINKY, you just asked me if I could put the soup in your pocket and vomit into your hat.
PINKY: Oh...well...could you? Poit?
[QUINN claps her hand over her mouth and tries to stifle giggles.]
BRAIN: Okay, class. Before we wrap this session up, we shall learn one more useful phrase. [taps chalkboard with chalk, indicating a phrase written there in block caps] "Estas creando que yo estoy creando?" it's something to ask another person to determine if the two of you are in agreement. It means "Are you pondering what I'm pondering?" QUINN [tilts head, smiling]: I think so, Professor Braindulce, but calling it a flea market! I mean, what were they thinking?
PINKY [high silly giggle]: Narf!
QUINN [high, girlish giggle]: Narf!
BRAIN [sotto voce, an aside]: Damnation...they're multiplying. [aloud] Well, that will be it for today, class. Tomorrow we shall begin our look at irregular verbs and properly conjugating several basic tenses. "Adios, clase."
QUINN: "Adios, Profesor Braindulce!" [gets up and skips out of the room, her shoulder bumping the board and sending it revolving on its hinges, catching BRAIN in its revolutions and sending him whirling and screaming in terror, a prisoner of inertia. Then he is sent hurtling through the air and abruptly comes to a stop smack into the wardrobe door. He slides down the wooden surface, groaning. PINKY, concerned, runs over to him.]
PINKY: Zort! Poit! Are you all right, BRAIN?
BRAIN [dazed, singing off-key]: Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon? Or let the eagle tell you...where...he's...been? [gives a hacking cough and flops in an unconcious heap. P & B theme, instrumental, tempo prestissimo,. Fade to black.]
act I, scene 4
[Dissolve to a montage sequence illustrating the coming week as it passes by. DARIA and JANE are using The Tank to help implement THE BRAIN's plan and transport the incoming deliveries of toilet paper to Acme Labs' concrete bunker. Meanwhile. QUINN's lessons continue, and she and PINKY are becoming quite close.]
[BG MUSIC for the sequence alternates between Aqua's "Barbie Girl" for the PINKY/QUINN scenes and "Sixteen Tons" for the DARIA/JANE scenes.]
[The montage shots are thus: BRAIN, as Braindulce, asks a question (we only see his lips move) followed by a fast cut of QUINN raising her hand and answering it (again, only mute lip movements), then a fast cut back to BRAIN, smiling and nodding; a faraway shot of The Tank with two tiny figures--DARIA and JANE--wheeling upright pushcarts loaded with boxes from the van's rear to the front doors of the lab; QUINN and PINKY seated cross-legged on the grass while PINKY strums a tiny lute and sings mutely (probably the "Greensleeves" song from "Spell-Bound") and QUINN listens enthralled; an overhead shot of DARIA and JANE wheeling the loaded pushcarts up a ramp through open double doors; QUINN cross-legged on the grasas with a bottle of bubble solution, dipping the stem into the bottle and blowing a stream of soap bubbles into the air as PINKY gleefully chases them; a shot of JANE depositing her load of crates next to a growing stack, then doubling back for a second load as DARIA dumps her load--here the camera pulls in for a closeup as she wipes her sweaty brow with the back of one hand--; a shot of QUINN and PINKY skipping hand in hand (PINKY is in the air giggling soundlessly) through a flowery meadow; kicking up blossoms that shower around them--then they pause briefly in the BG and watch with puzzled expressions as BUDDY bolts into the frame from stage left with the dogcatcher hot on his tail (a tempo prestissimo instrumental of "Pop Goes the Weasel" plays over Aqua briefly during this bit). Pan in close on them as they look at each other, shrug, and continue skipping; DARIA and JANE each holding one end of the final crate of toilet paper as they carry it into the bunker and place it in front of a monumental stack of boxes. BRAIN is atop the uppermost crate, grinning broadly. He hops down the pyramidal pile, looking a bit like Q-bert in his movements, bouncing empahtically from the tops of the crates. He stands atop one of the crates on one of the loermost tiers, high enough to address the girls from over their heads. The BG music fades out and then disappears.]
BRAIN: I thank you girls for your efforts. I would have never done it without your help.
JANE: That's nice. You gonna pay us or what?
BRAIN: Oh...yes...of course. [he reaches down behind a crate and produces a roll of T.P. in each hand, which he tosses down into each girl's waiting cupped palms.]
JANE: All that work for this? I'm underwhelmed.
DARIA: Maybe we should look into becoming union thugs.
BRAIN: I assure you, this is a more than generous recompense. When I sieze control of the planet and reduce every man, woman, and child on earth to sniveling incontinent wrecks, these rolls of tushie tissue will be worth their weight in gold!
JANE: Gold toilet paper, eh? [tosses roll from hand to hand] I bet that's cut you up something fierce. [pauses, murmurs] Tushie tissue?!
DARIA: Okay...now what happens? [folding arms over chest]
BRAIN: Part two of my plan is ready to commence. Gather round, ladies. I am about to--in the vernacular--lay it upon you. [camera pulls back to show the backs of DARIA and JANE as they crowd closer to BRAIN, who murmurs his plan to them as the instrumental P & B theme swells in the BG.]
act 1, scene 5
[Dissolve to MORGANDORFFER kitchen, interior. The family, as well as BRAIN, as Braindulce, is gathered about the dinner table. It is evening, the evening meal is lasagna, hot and fresh. BRAIN sits to DARIA's right, atop a stack of books to give him height. QUINN, obviously distracted, is playing with her food at DARIA's left. JAKE is addressing BRAIN.]
JAKE: So, Braindulce, how is my little princess doing with her studies?
BRAIN: Quite well, Mr. MORGANDORFFER. I believe I've made quite a bit of progress with her. The secret to reaching a problem student is to try to relate to them...to talk to them on their level.
JAKE: I've always said that.
HELEN: I've never heard you say any such thing.
JAKE [a touch wounded and defensive]: I say a lot of smart things you never hear me say. [looks about for support, finds none] Realy. I do.
HELEN [insincere]: Yes, honey. [to BRAIN] Professor, where is PINKY? I haven't seen him all evening.
QUINN [dreamily]: PINKY....
DARIA: Last time I saw him, he was in the bathroom sucking on his toes.
HELEN: Sucking his toes?!
JAKE [hastily]: Maybe it's a quaint Spanish custom where he's from, dear.
HELEN: I don't know. Sounds terribly inhygenic to me.
BRAIN: Yes...well...[hops down off of books]...I'll go fetch him and let him know that his dinner is getting cold. [exits kitchen]
HELEN: Hmmm....QUIN, Professor Braindulce just said you were getting along very well in your lessons, Say something in Spanish for me, dear.
QUINN: "Ah, mama, yo estoy mucho enamorata de Rosadito. Me desea el mas que vida si mismo." [Subtitles at bottom of screen: "Oh, Mom, I am very much in love with PINKY. I desire him more than life itself."]
HELEN [looks at DARIA]: What's she saying, DARIA?
DARIA [understands perfectly but plays dumb]: Um...she said pass the salt, please. [HELEN smiles and hands QUINN the salt shaker. She doesn't notice.]
DARIA "Ay, demonios." [Subtitle reads: "Dammit."]
[Cut to interior shot of MORGANDORFFER bathroom, upstairs. PINKY is standing in front of the mirror, balanced atop a couple of paper cups on the sink, admiring his reflection and using both hands to run a black pocket comb through his hair. He is humming "Greensleeves", with a "narf" and a "poit" interspersed in the music here and there. The door opens, stage left, and BRAIN enters. Camera angle slants over PINKY's shoulder on him.]
BRAIN: What, may I ask, what are you doing?
PINKY: Oh! Poit! I'm gettin' ready for my big date with QUINN tonight.
BRAIN [aghast]: Big date! Don't be ludicrous! You can't possibly be serious about going on a date with that ditzy bottle-blonde slattern.
PINKY: Oh, no, BRAIN, you're wrong. She's not a slattern. I think she's a Lutheran.
BRAIN [sighs, face in hand]: PINKY...you're a mouse. She's a human girl. I--
PINKY [gasps]: BRAIN! Don't tell me you're prejudiced!
BRAIN [a bit taken aback]: Well, no--I--I--
PINKY [a bit miffed]: You're nothing but a 'umanist!
BRAIN [puzzled]: I'm a what?
PINKY: You know, a 'umanist! A racist 'ates people of another race. A sexist 'ates people of the other sex. What does a 'umanist 'ate? 'umans! Zort!!
BRAIN [exasperated]: Can the George Carlin schtick, PINKY, and listen to me. Tomorrow night you and I will be implementing the second half of our plan for world domination. This house is a perfect base of operations not only because it was the point of delivery for the toilet paper, but because it is located conveniently within 50 miles of the Bainks military complex, which is where the supercomputers that control the military satellites I require are housed. You and I must infiltrate the base and get our hands on the special keys that are needed to arm the satellites, thus combining their strength to pull the earth off its axis. Can't you remember anything?
PINKY [uncomfortable]: You know I do, BRAIN...but I'm not sure my 'eart is in it. Not after I've met the girl of my dreams. [sighs. Pan in slowly on PINKY's face.] It's like this, BRAIN. I don't 'ave all that much in life--'cept you, and the labs, and trying to take over the world every night...but now I 'ave 'er. And I don't want to 'urt 'er or get 'er all mixed up in this mess. I'm going out on my date tomorrow with the girl I love, and even though you're my best friend, I won't let you stand between me and my 'appiness. '[sadly] Troz! So promise me that you'll give up the whole idea of giving the world the 'ershey squirts, BRAIN. For 'er...and for me. Poit!
BRAIN [rather moved]: PINKY...old friend...I had no idea how you felt. Very well--the mission is aborted. [BRAIN's right hand is behind his back. Camera pans around to rear view to note that his fingers are crossed.]
PINKY [believes him with the wholehearted faith of a child]: All right, BRAIN! Now...what do you think about my outfit? [turns around in a circle to give him the full effect, humming a snatch of "Greensleeves"]
BRAIN: PINKY, you're naked.
PINKY: Oh...right...[giggles, snorts]...zort! I thought this fabric breathed pretty well for a natural fiber.
BRAIN: You look fine, PINKY. Now put on your uniform and come down to dinner. It's lasagna...double cheese, just how you like it.
PINKY: Yippee! Narf!! [hops down off of sink and races out of the bathroom. BRAIN hangs back, sighing, feeling very much like a rat--for lack of a better word--for fibbing to PINKY, then slowly exeunts.]
[Cut to MORGANDORFFER kitchen, interior. The family is just finishing dinner as BRAIN and PINKY, in his school uniform, enter. HELEN leaps out of her chair and siezes PINKY, crushing him to her bosom in a bruising hug.]
PINKY [strangling]: Urr-rrkk! Narf! Poit!
HELEN [gushing]: Oh, I'm so happy! QUINN just told me the good news, PINKY darling! I'm so happy for you two!
JAKE: So am I, precious! And--[takes out his wallet]--I have a little something in my wallet to give you that you might need later on if your date goes well there, sport!
HELEN [snapping]: JAKE!
JAKE [hastily]: I-I was giving them some money, dear. Honest.
HELEN : Oh. Ha, ha! Never mind.
JAKE [passes PINKY a folded wad of bills and whispers to him, bending down] There's a little something special wrapped up in there for you too, champ. [winks and clicks teeth]
PINKY: Oh...that's right nice of you, Mr. MORGANDORFFER.
JAKE: Ha! Ha! Why so formal? Call me JAKE--please-I insist!
PINKY: All right, Jake--please--I insist! Narf!
JAKE [giving Vulcan finger sign]: Narf to you too, m'man!
DARIA [sets her knife and fork on her empty plate and rises]: I'm almost sorry I had to leave in the middle of all this bonding, but I might as well head over to JANE's now. If I'm late, they'll start the orgy without me.
PINKY: Oh, I love orgy! Remember when I took up orgy that one time you and me were trying to get that foreign aid check from the government, BRAI--er--Senor Braindulce?
BRAIN: No, PINKY, you're thinking or origami, the ancient Japanese art of paper-folding. An orgy is a wild and uninhibited sex party that often involves multiple partners of both genders.
JAKE [outraged, bolts upright form his seat and slams his fists on the table]: Wild sex party? Multiple partners?! Dammit, DARIA, not in htios house you don't!
QUINN [coolly]: Of course not Dad. She's going to do it at her kooky artist friend's place.
PINKY [giggles stupidly]: Narf!
QUINN [gigggles girlishly]: Poit!
JAKE [hammers fist on table]: Arggh!! Dammit!!!
HELEN [soothing]: Now, JAKE, she's only joking. Be careful not to get your blood pressure up. Remember what your doctor said--
[JAKE pounds his fist on the table and howls in pain and outrage as DARIA exits kitchen and heads into the living room, a satisfied little smile on her face. A blast of "You're Standing on My Neck", instrumental, plays in the BG. Fade to black.]
act I, scene 6
[Cut to exterior overhead shot of Chez Pierre, the little French bistro QUINN frequents with her dates. BG MUSIC: soft, slow dinner music with piano and violin accompaniment. The time is about eight in the evening. Pan in on the front door where we see two figures walk in. Cut to interior and show QUINN, resplendent in a rose petal-pink floor-length gown and her coral lipstick, and PINKY waiting for the maitre'd--a weaselly-looking Frenchman with a big ass and a stuck-up nose. He wears a toupee resembling a handlebar mustache precariously balanced on his high head. He carefully looks up their names in a thick reservation book on a lectern before him, running a thin finger over the columns of names.]
MAITRE'D: ...Moffat...Moreley...Morgan...ah, MORGANDORFFER. So nice to see you again, madame. [points to PINKY] The gentleman will have to dress for dinner, of course. This is a black-tie establishment. [stoops and puts a black necktie, which is ridiculously long and lies in folds on the floor, about PINKY's neck.] Walk this way. [The MAITRE'D leads QUINN and PINKY to their table, walking with an effeminate little shuffle. PINKY, taking the man literally, imitates his gait. He trips on the edge of his too-long tie, falls on his belly, giggles, "narf"s, then picks himself up and follows QUINN and the MAITRE'D, the tie dragging between his legs behind him. The three stop, and the MAITRE'D helps QUINN with her chair, pulling it out and in for her. He then delicately lifts PINKY, with thumb and forefinger, by the scruff of the neck and sets him in a booster chair similar to the ones used in "Brain's Night Off". He exeunts.]
QUINN [leaning her chin on her hands and gazing amorously at PINKY]: You know, I think my dad likes you the most of any of my dates.
PINKY: Poit! Oh, I like 'im too! 'specially since 'e gave me plenty of money for tonight--and a little pack of gum. [smacks lips] Tasted kinda like rubber, though.
QUINN [picks up menu]: Maybe we should get ready to order before the waiter gets back. [consults her menu]: Hmmm....I'd like the petite d'faus gras, with broccoli rosettes in hollandaise, canard a'la orange, and chocolate mousse for dessert. How about you?
PINKY: Troz! Oh, I don't think I could eat a 'ole blinkin' moose by myself--but I will try one of these whores devours.
QUINN [giggles, reaches out and gives PINKY's hand a playful brush]: Stop! you're incorrigible! It's pronounced "hors d'oeuvres"!
PINKY: Oh. Right. Well then [looks at menu], I wonder 'ow the steak tartar-ay is cooked?
[NOTE: For those who don't know, steak Tartare is served uncooked. Yummy yum.]
[FURTHER NOTE: Throughout this scene, time doubles back on itself, going back and forth to accomodate both halves of the action, then comes together during the time lapse indicated by the wall clock in Chez Pierre. Hopefully this thumbnail guide will help eliminate any further confusion.]
[Cut to shot of the outside of a plain, whitewashed military-type building, seen through a chain-link fence, set against a night sky. The time is around two in the morning. There is a shadowy figure--a guard, no doubt--observable in front of a small guardhouse with the gate up. Hold to this image during next few lines of dialogue.]
JANE [in a loud, hoarse whisper]: This is the joint we're busting into? Don't look like much.
DARIA [same type of whisper]: This is what you get when you cut the military budget to fund socialized medicine.
JANE [still whispering]: It's a young program. Just give it a chance. That's all I ask. Yo, Knothead, you ready yet?
BRAIN [low tone]: Yes.
[There is a loud whirring sound, then the noise of heavy footsteps thundering. A dark shadow passes over the chain-link fence. Pan back to show JANE and DARIA, covered in shadow, craning their necks to see what is approaching. Sweep pan to see BRAIN towering over their heads in the robotic suit he first used in "Win Big", clad in a khaki military uniform with medals and everything. DARIA and JANE step cautiously over to admire the suit, fingering it gently.]
JANE [in a British accent, imitating a character from "Are You Being Served?"]: Now the pants might be a bit long, but don't worry, sir, they'll ride up with wear.
DARIA: I've heard clothes, make the man...but this--?
BRAIN: If you poor man's Harry Blackwells are quite finished critiquing my wardrobe [takes several whirring steps forward], then let us proceed. Just let me open this gate first. [tries to gently open the doors to the fence, but suddenly the suit's arms reach out and tear them off their hinges, wad them like a beer can, and toss them aside. BRAIN is frustrated. The girls are astonished.] Blast...I knew I should have pauses to properly calibrate the thrust shafts and decreased the torque output after my ill-fated stint in Japan as a Sumo wrestler.
JANE [with a note of fear in her voice]: Dammit! Smokey comin'!
voice of GUARD: All right! Hold it there, Sampson! Don't make a move! Who goes there?
BRAIN: I am not Sampson. [steps forward] I am five-star general Stormin' Norman Schwartzkopf! [salutes smartly, bopping himself in the head with suit hand. BRAIN looks dazed; birds twitter.]
GUARD [who looks and sounds eerily like Barney Fife from "The Andy Griffith Show"]: "Stormin' Norman"!! [snaps a fast salute, then looks closer at BRAIN, squinting] Pardon my French, sir, but what the hell happened to your head? It's all shrunken up!
BRAIN [grimly]: Old war wound. I don't like to talk about it much.
GUARD: Oh. I get it. [sniffs, puts thumbs in belt loop and hitches up trousers] Strong silent type, huh? Yep--me too. [sniffs again and chuckles] One time I took a bit of flak right here on a police target range [pats hip]. But did I cry and moan about it? No siree, Bobarooski. I stitched it up m'self with a piece'a thread off'n m' uniform and was back t'work the next day. [chuckles and sniffs]
BRAIN [disinterested]: Fascinating...but please step aside. I have need of this facility...and the satellites.
GUARD: Oh! Sure thing there, General. [snaps another brisk salute, then notices DARIA and JANE. With a sappy smile on his face, he sniffs, hitches up his pants again, and chuckles] Well, well! What have we here?
DARIA [thinks quickly]: We're a couple of WACs from D.C. I'm General Schwartzkopf's secretary.
JANE: Ye-eah...and I'm her secretary. [getting nervous] Yeah--I'm the undersecretary to the secretary of the General. And I have a secretary too--undersecretary to the undersecretary to the General. I'm just here to--
DARIA [nudges her sharply and hisses in her ear]: Dammit! Shhh!!
GUARD [steps over to the door of the facility]: Normally, I wouldn't do this for just anyone--but, hell, you're the guy who whupped ol' Uncle Saddam's whacky Iraqi ass, so I guess it's OK. You'll need the special keys with the decoder codes on 'em to activate them satellites up 'ere [points upwards with finger]. I'll fetch 'em for ya. [stoops and lifts up the corner of a welcome mat on the porch to reveal six golden keys, scoops them them up in his hand, and places them in BRAIN's robotic suit hand.]
JANE [sotto voce, to DARIA]: The keys to the most powerful military hardware on earth are under a doormat?
DARIA [sotto voce, to JANE]: Told you--budget cuts.
BRAIN: Thank you. You've done your country a great service. [takes the guard's hand, forgetting the strength in the suit's fingers, and nearly crushes it in his grip while shaking it. The GUARD's face bulges grotesquely in pain, and he pulls his hand out of BRAIN's grip. It is swollen, red, and throbbing.] Oh...pardon. me. Sometimes I don't know my own strength.
GUARD [grunts, then grins]: Quite all right there, sir...no harm done. Carry on. [tries to salute with wounded hand, winces. BRAIN, DARIA and JANE pass him and enter the Bainks complex building. GUARD exeunts.]
[Cut to interior shot of Chez Pierre, around nine PM, QWUINN and PINKY's table. QUINN is having the petite d'faus gras, broccoli, and duck; PINKY is sitting in his booster chair taking a bite out of a large cheeseburger with fries next to it on the plate.]
QUINN: So how long have you been studying under Professor Braindulce?
PINKY [mouth full]: Oh, I've known him for years. [swallows] We met in the lab during an experiment on gene splicing, and we've been good pals ever since. Poit!
QUINN: Yeah. It's nice to see a student and teacher as close as you and he are. [runs her finger along the inside of the rim of her glass] He seems a little high-strung, though. Like he needs a girlfriend or something. PINKY: He had one once--poit! A right nice little thing named Billie, she was. BRAIN--er--dulce was 'ead over 'eels for 'er...but she didn't like 'im that much. Called him "Egg'ead". 'e tried to impress 'er with a big metal doughnut and everything, but it didn't work out.
QUINN: Two different worlds, huh?
PINKY: Er...no. I think they're both from the same one BRAIN's tryin' to take over. [QUINN chuckles, thinking PINKY's making a joke.] And after she got into this right koo-ooo-oo-ooky experiment and got all smart and stuff, 'e dumped 'er.
QUINN: Oh! That's horrible! I hate guys who can't deal with a smart woman! Just because she tried to, like, better herself and stuff, he leaves her! What a rat!
PINKY: Ooh, no. 'e 'ates to be called a rat. 'e's a mouse.
QUINN: I don't care how nice and sweet he is. That poor woman!
PINKY: Don't worry your 'ead, QUINN--it came out all right. 'e forgot all about 'er and went back to tryin' to take over the world...till one day she came back into 'is life and told 'im she found a new bloke...BRAIN's former best friend and now bitterest arch-enemy Snowball.
QUINN: The prof really threw himself into his work to forget her, huh? God, I hate guys like that. Insensitive jerks who never bother to call a girl after he takes her out, always thinking about work, work, work--did you say she dated Snowball?
PINKY: I think so...why? Troz!
QUINN: I think I went out with him once too. They called him that, you see, 'cuz, that's, like, what he likes to do with girls.
PINKY: Play in the snow?
QUINN: No, silly--snowball. See, that's when a girl, like, blows a guy, right, and then after he gets off in her mouth she spits it down his throat while she kisses him.
PINKY: Oh...well, I don't think I'd like that. Poit!
QUINN: Was he a tall guy with long blonde hair and a bright red goatee?
PINKY: Oh, no. 'e was a little 'amster with a big fat head who wanted to take over the world before BRAIN did.
QUINN: Oh! Must be a different Snowball, then. That one sounds like a real jerk, too. Both he and Braindulce don't think about anything but work and beating out the other guy for some big fat stupid promotion. I hope Billie dumped him, too.
PINKY: Oo-ooo-oo-ooh--zort! She did dump 'im...and then she said she wanted to 'ave ME for a boyfriend! She was going to give me my very own water park with a bi-iii-ii-ig slide and everything! But I told 'er thanks but no thanks, sister--'cuz I couldn't go off with 'er and leave my best pal BRAIN behind! [reflecting, to himself] Even if that WAS a right nice waterslide...poit!
QUINN: Oo-oooo-ooo-ooh...that's so sweet! You're so loyal to him--even though he's such a grouch!
PINKY: Yeah. Troz! I'd miss 'avin' 'im always tellin' me 'ow stupid I am and boppin' me on the head.
QUINN [gasps]: PINKY! No! How could you say such a thing about yourself? You're not stupid. You...you're like me. Sweet...and nice...and caring. [takes his hand] I think you're the only person I've ever met who really understands me...that I can talk to without feeling like a total moron. [pan in slowly on QUINN] My family doesn't understand me, my friends are, like, sometimes so boring the way they just go on and on about clothes and guys and shopping and stuff, like that's all there is in life, but I know there's more, 'cuz there's just got to be, right? And my boyfriends--God! They're always pawing at me and trying to get me into the sack!
PINKY: Ummm....paper or plastic?
QUINN [doesn't seem to hear, going on faster and faster and slowly increasing in volume]: I mean, my sister DARIA, right? She and the prof would probably get along great together--but I bet she'd dump him because of her attitude of something! She's all like, "QUINN, you're such a ditz" and "QUINN, you're too into clothes and boys and stuff"--but I'm not! Really! And...and all the guys I go out with tell me that I'm too flighty and teasing and a real pain in the ass sometimes...but you...[her voice lowers to a husky, sexy tone]...you're different! You're not like anyone else I've ever been with! [A snooty waiter passes by the table and looks at the couple with a "sister-you-don't-know-the-half-of-it" look on his face.]
PINKY: I-I don't know what to say. Poit!
QUINN: I-I do. [swallows] You're special to me, PINKY. I-I-I think I lvoe you.
[Pull in for a close-up of QUINN and PINKY as there is the sound of gagging and a tray of dishes hitting the floor by a shocked waiter.]
[Cut to overhead shot of a linoleum-floored chamber with smooth, circular walls lined with computers, maps filled with pushpins, and star charts. It's about a quarter to three in the morning. Three small figures--DARIA, JANE, and BRAIN--enter stage left through a sliding door that resembles something right out of "Star Trek", their bodies throwing long shadows over the floor.]
BRAIN: There they are, ladies--the supercomputers. [Cut to closeup shot of BRAIN, in his robotic suit, one of the keys gripped in the suit's hand.] Now...insert the keys into these locks [camera follows BRAIN's pointing finger to a computer console with six large raised keyholes on it] and, on my signal, turn them simultaneously. Any questions, PINKY?
DARIA: Yes...why did you just call me "PINKY"?
BRAIN [fumbling]: I-I didn't.
JANE: I heard it too. I'm no Freudian, Jughead, but I think you wish PINKY were here taking over the planet with you instead of a couple of high school kids.
BRAIN: Nonsense. I could care less about that...that Judas. How dare he put his own happiness and emotions over the mission. It's...horribly unprofessional. It's...just...[Pan in slowly on BRAIN's face, looking sad and reflective, ears drooping. Ripple dissolve to bathroom scene, in flashback form. PINKY's voice seems to echo.]
PINKY: You're nothing but a 'umanist! What does a 'umanist 'ate? 'umans! Zort! [echo] Zort! Zort! Zort! Zort!
[Ripple dissolve fades out; we see BRAIN's face. He raises his head slightly. He seems on the brink of tears.]
BRAIN [quietly]: PINKY....
[Ripple dissolve again to bathroom scene.]
PINKY: I don't 'ave that much in life, BRAIN, except you, and the lab, and trying to take over the word every night...but now I 'ave 'er...and I don't want to 'urt 'er or get 'er mixed up in this...So promise me you'll give up the 'ole idea of giving the world the 'ershey squirts,
BRAIN. [echo] Promise me, BRAIN...Promise me...Promise....mise....[The ripple dissolve disappears quickly with a popping sound as a pair of fingers in close-up snap loudly in BRAIN's fave, bringing him back to reality. Pan back to see JANE, looking concerned, trying to bring BRAIN out of his temporary lapse.]
BRAIN: Eh?...Oh...pardon me...I-- [comes back to himself with a shake of the head--it makes the sound of water sloshing] For God's sake, get your damned fingers out of my face! They reek!
JANE: Sheesh! Sor-RY! Just got a little worried when you drifted off to La-La Land there, small fry. [sniffs her fingers, says in a slightly sulky tone] And lay off. I had a couple of tuna-and-mayo sandwiches for lunch and didn't scrub up too good after I ate, that's all.
BRAIN: Your personal hygiene aside, Miss LANE... [steps forth in his suit, with a whirring sound] ...the time has come. Insert your keys. [cut to shot of BRAIN's suit hand inserting his two keys into their locks. A machine somewhere hums slowly to life.]
[Cut to resturant, interior, 9:05 PM. QUINN's little confession has left PINKY stunned and at a loss for words.]
QUINN [softly]: Did you hear me, PINKY? I said I love you.
PINKY: I-I-I [gulps] I don't know what to say.
QUINN [pleading] Tell me you love me.
PINKY [confidently]: All right! Poit! I love you! [looks shocked at what he just said]
[Cut to chamber, interior, 2:47 AM. DARIA and JANE glance briefly at each other. JANE shrugs. DARIA steps over to the computer, to BRAIN's left. Pan to a closeup of the second set of keyholes, then DARIA's hands as she inserts her two keys. A second machine hum joins the first.]
[Cut to restaurant, interior, 9:07 PM. Pan in on QUINN and PINKY's table.]
QUINN: Have you ever told a woman you loved her before?
PINKY: Once Idid...I met 'er at the oceanography lab where me and BRAIN was workin' one time. I first saw 'er while she was swimming in the ovcean, and I watched as the sun gleamed off her dark sleek skin when she came up for air, and I fell madly in love with 'er. BRAIN told me to forget about 'er and focus on our plan, because she and I were just to different to make a relationship work. But I wouldn't listen. I tried to tell 'er I loved 'er-- [starts making noises like a sea lion barking--for here he describes his love affair with the female sea lion in "Operation: Sea Lion", although QUINN thinks he';s talking about an actual girl--and causes people to turn their heads and stare at him. Pan on their concerned faces, then on QUINN's, looking so moved she might break into tears]--but I couldn't speak 'er language. I think I scared her away. [sadly] Poit!
QUINN: Oh, my God--that's so sad. You and she had communication problems, so she left you. [takes his hand] I'm so sorry it didn't work out between you two.
PINKY: Oh--poit! That's OK. BRAIN was right anyhow. We could never have 'ad anything lasting between us noway--seeing as I can't swim, and I don't bloody well like raw fish. [QUINN's head tilts a bit, a perplexed look on her face.]
[Cut to chamber, interior, 2:48 AM. JANE's hands insert the final two keys. A third mechanized hum joins the first two in a deep-throated crecendo.]
[Cut to restaurant, interior, 9:09 PM. Pan in for closeup on PINKY.]
PINKY: I met my first girlfriend at the track. Gorblimey, she was right 'andsome. Long legs, dark black mane, smooth back, right nice tail on 'er. [He is referring to the racehorse in "Jockey for Position", but again, oblivious QUINN thinks it's a real girl.] I wanted BRAIN to put 'is money on 'er, but 'e went right for Daddy's Little Angel. Poit!
QUINN: That cheap little bastard! Won't even pop for a night out on the town for you two, then tries to set you up with some two-bit daddy's girl floozie. [squeezes his hand] You shouldn't let him boss you around and control your life and make you feel inferior. He's not your dad, you know. Stand up to him. Let him know just how you feel. [PINKY lowers is head and "poit"s softly as he ponders this.] What was her name?
PINKY: Who?
QUINN: The girl. Long legs, dark hair, nice tail.
PINKY: Oh. Farfignewton.
QUINN: Wow! What an exotic name! Was she German? Scandinavian?
PINKY: Er--no, I think she was an Arabian.
QUINN: Oo-ooo-oo-oh! An interracial affair! Very chic these days!
PINKY: Well ,I don't know about shieks...but she had a right nice jockey.
QUINN: A girl wearing men's underwear! Very alternative, without being overly gauche!
[Now it's PINKY's turn to look confused.]
[Cut to MORGANDORFFER house, interior, 9:10 PM. HELEN and JAKE are sitting on the couch relaxing. JAKE is in comfortable pants and a polo shirt, with a martini in one hand. HELEN, in cutoffs and a T-shirt, sits to his left. Her face has the complascent, half-dreamy expression of a woman who has just gotten laid. The TV is playing in the BG, athough neither HELEN nor JAKE is really paying attention to it.]
TV: Rare, never-before-seen footage of a hamster-worshipping cult in the jungles of darkest Africa--next up on "Sick Sad World"!
HELEN [seems to come back to herself--perhaps the "SSW" reference stimulated her brain and made her think suddenly of her eldest daughter]: Mmmmmm...do you think we ought to call up mandy lane and check up on DARIA, dear?
JAKE: Nah, I doubt it. The girls are fine. I bet they're sitting around doing each other's hair, eating pork rinds, and talking about boys. [sips his drink] DARIA's a good girl. It's not like she'd ever stay out late doing anything horible and earth-shattering...am I right?
HELEN: Mmmm...yes, dear, you're right. I suppose I'm worrying over nothing. It is nice to see DARIA pal around with someone her own age who has similar interests. To tell you the truth, honey, I was worried when we first moved out here that she wouldn't fit in.
JAKE: I know what you mean. It's always difficult moving to a new town, making new friends. [sips drink] Especially for an introverted girl like DARIA...not at all like her sister.
HELEN: I know. Sure, she didn't show it, but I could tell she was heartbroken over leaving Highland. Especially her two little schoolchums--Booger and Braindead.
JAKE: Charming boys. Real bright futures ahead of them. Especially that blonde-headed boy Booger. He really knew how to laugh at life. This country needs more fine upstanding boys like them.
HELEN: Yes. it's a pity they died so young.
JAKE [stops short, glass to lips]: They died?
[Both HELEN and JAKE pause to reflect on this silently.]
[oven timer dings]
HELEN [smiling]: Oh, goody! My pudding is ready!
[Cut to restaurant, interior, 9:15 PM. Pan in on QUINN.]
QUINN: PINKY...I-I want to be a hundred percent honest with you, too. You told me about all your old girlfriends...now I want to come clean and tell you about all the guys I've been with. [takes deep breath][Pan up to clock on the wall over their heads with the hands at 9:16. Dissolve to show time elapsing, hands now read 2:49. PINKY and QUINN are the only two people left in Chez Pierre. The waiters are extinguishing the candles on the tables, turning the chairs upside down on the tabletops, getting ready to close the joint down for the night. QUINN is still talking.]
QUINN [her voice sounding slightly hoarse from talking so much]: ...um...and that's it. I'm so glad we were so honest with one another, PINKY.
PINKY [giggles, snorts]: Narf! Oh...me too. I feel so cleansed and squishy inside. Zort!
QUINN [hoarsely]: Yeah, me too. [drinks the last of hewr water to restore her voice]
PINKY: So...now what do we do?
QUINN [smiles]: This. [leans in closer to PINKY and begins to pucker.]
[Cut to chamber, interior. BRAIN, DARIA, and JAKE have just inserted their keys. Machinery hums in the background,]
BRAIN [excitedly]: Now! Turn the keys!!
[screen splits threee ways to show all six of their hands turning their keys simultaneously. There is an echoey click. The humming increases in volume, and the chamber lights dim.]
[Cut to shot of outer space. BG MUSIC: The Darth Vader theme from "Star Wars". A satellite turns slowly in it's orbit, making a whirring sound, to its right. Cut to a second satellite whirring and turning to its left. Cut to a third satellite, shown from below, turning upwards. Cut to a fourth satellite, shown from overhead, turning downwards. Rapid cuts to all four satellites, now in position, firing bright red lasers, then cut to show all four lasers meeting at a point, then as those four beams are joined by other beams, which spread out into a meshlike net and begin to swallow the earth.]
[Cut to shot of QUINN and PINKY edging closer together, QUINN's eyes closed and PINKY's half-shut, for their kiss.]
[Cut to shot of the earth in its red meshlike force field, starting to tremble with a rumbling noise as it begins to shift in its orbit ever so slightly to the right.]
[Cut to shot of QUINN and PINKY as their lips meet. BG MUSIC swells to a crecendo. QUINN angles her head slightly, and--is she using her tongue? Oh, my God!!!]
[Cut to close-up of the planet, engulfed in a red shell, perceptably moving, seeming to creak and groan in its orbit.]
[Cut to shots of city streets with their streetlights and the lights inside houses flickering, garbage cans tipping, cars screeching to sudden stops, cats yowlin, dogs barking. Cut to interior shot of chamber, with the lights flickering madly. DARIA and JANE look concerned; BRAIN is gleeful. Cut to shot of the MORGANDORFFER house, interior,which seems to be trembling. HELEN and JAKE cling tightly to their bowls of pudding so as not to drop them; the pudding wobbles violently i nthe bowl. Cut to a shot of Trent asleep in his cluttered-looking room--a stock footage shot from "Arts & Crass"--that is trembling as if in the throes of a bad earthquake. Trent sleeps straight through it.]
[Cut to shot of QUINN and PINKY still in their liplock. The building is shaking, lights flickering, chairs and candleholders falling off tables, spooked waiters running about in panic. Neither one notices, their eyes are shut and they are breathing slowly, in tandem. Their lips part eventually, and both look as if they'd been drugged.]
QUINN [low, sultry]: Mmmmmm...I felt the earth move. Did you?
PINKY [same low tone]: Na-aaa-aa-arf... [suddenly snaps out of it] Poit! Egad! The earth moved!?! Zort! BRAIN!! No-oooo-ooo-oo-o!!! [leaps out of his seat onto the floor, starts running, trips on his tie, falls down, picks himself up, and dashes out the door, crying, "BRAIN!"]
QUINN [shouting]: PINKY! Where are you going? I-I love you! Don't leave me!! [throws her arm up into the air, her lips skinned back from her teeth. Tears stand out in her eyes. She sobs.] I love you.
[A black-and-white stop-frame shot showing DARIA and JANE talking to the guard outside the Bainks military complex building, with a chorus of "la la la la la"s to the tune of the P&B theme in the BG.]
[cut to commercial]
AUTHOR's NOTE: Due to the upcoming summer break and the pressing need to work on other important projects, the author must take a temporary hiatus from this project. Hopefully it will be resumed and completedby September or October at the latest. Thank you for your patience.