03x11 - The Lawndale Files

[bunniefuu]

Settle down, young people! Now,

before the varsity interpretive
dance team begins its performance,

"History, We Are You",

we have a brief announcement from
some special guests, agents...

- No names.
- No credentials.

Student, we'll be brief.

We've received some disturbing
reports from this school,

and we're asking for your cooperation.

Keep your eyes open. Watch
for people who are different.

They know who they are.

And with your help, kids, so will we.

"Different," eh?

I wonder what I get if I turn you in?

More free time to spend
with Kevin and Brittany.

Curse you different ones
and your insidious logic.

From outer space to in your
face! Aliens walk among us!

A Sick, Sad World exclusive.

Oh, look, they're going to
explain the return of disco.

The aliens aren't coming.
They're already here.

They could be your friends, your family.

They act almost normal,
but something's off.

Yes, the TV.

If there were any aliens smart enough to come
here, they wouldn't be stupid enough to come here.

There goes my trick ear
again. What was that?

Let's say I'm an alien and you're you.

Part of this better be hypothetical.

Now, why would I, a being from the
highly advanced planet Zippotron,

travel light-years just to take
over your body and go to high school?

Because Wednesday's Jell-O day?

Exactly. Wouldn't it make more sense
to rig up some remote system of control?

Neck implants or something?

Then they could make you
do stuff like go to the mall

or think about hair without
actually having to do it themselves.

Makes more sense than a
full-scale infiltration.

Oh, yes. Much, much more sense.

All right, then.

What is that music?

I don't know. It's been
going on for two days now.

You don't know how much I want you
to tell me that isn't Trent playing.

You don't know how much I wish I could.

maybe there's something to your
remote control theory after all.

Come on, Daria. Something interesting
must have happened yesterday.

Hmm... nope.

How about that friend of
yours? What's new with her?

Not much.

What about the newspaper? Read
anything interesting lately?

I did see an article
by an efficiency expert

who claims one really intense
conversation with your child over breakfast

is worth a whole week
of unfocused parenting.

Did you catch that article?

Well... how about TV? Seen
anything good recently?

Just the usual crazy guy claiming
aliens are walking our streets.

Well, of course they are.

Many of them can't afford
a car. No shame in that.

Hmm... what?!

I'll get it! Jake, keep up the momentum.

Ten-four. Heck, Daria,
your mother's right.

We were all aliens at one
point or another, right, kiddo?

Hellooo?

We were all aliens?

Quinn, telephone!

I'll take it up here!

Why didn't she come down for breakfast?

Daria, is anything wrong with Quinn?

If this weren't a school day, I might
have the time to begin answering that.

Morning!

Morning, sunshine.

Why, look at your hat.

What's with the new look, daddy-o?

New look? What new look? I'm dressed
like I am every day, more or less.

Neck implants or something?

Makes more sense than a
full-scale infiltration.

Well, of course they are.

Many of them can't afford a car.

We were all aliens at one
point or another. Right, kiddo?

You know that spending too much time
with your family makes you hear voices.

Get out! Well, me, oh
my, look at the time.

I'd better get to school. Bye!

Well, that was odd.

Quinn, is anything wrong with Daria?

If this weren't a school
day, I might have time...

It's not like her to act so
prejudiced against immigrants.

What?

All of a sudden, she
doesn't like aliens.

Who does?

Aliens impregnate you

and then they pop out of your chest and
k*ll you while you're trying to eat lunch.

What's to like? Gotta go! Bye!

What exactly are they teaching
about immigration at that school?

I don't know, honey, but that sounds
like a fascinating topic for a discussion!

Oh, Jake, give it up.

No, I'm not saying Quinn's
an evil space creature.

Oh, go ahead. It sounds so cool.

I just think it's strange that
she's suddenly covering up her neck.

When was the last time you saw
Kevin without his neck thing?

You're talking implants?

I heard that, and it's not true!

I guess she thought
you meant her U.F.O.s.

U.F.O.s?

Have you two been watching
The X-Files? I know I have.

And that's good.

But you know what's interesting?

Why do you encourage him?

All this creepy science fiction is just
a throwback to the old Cold w*r paranoia.

Aliens in the sky,
communists under the bed.

Exactly, Daria! And accusations
flying, all because of atomic jitters.

You're a communist! You're an alien!

Trade you Cuba for Jupiter.

One stood for the other
in those old movies.

Now tell us about the time
before microwave popcorn.

Oh, gosh, does that take me back!

Quinn, if you refuse to
explain your strange outfit,

I'm afraid the Fashion Club
will have to consider sanctions.

I'll tell you later, I promise!

I swear! It's not an
anti-fashion statement.

Very well. But we have
only your word to go on.

Hey, Quinn, Mr. O'Neill says that girl
from your house is an atomic communist.

Yeah, and her friend's an alien.

Gross.

I knew it!

It's just like I thought when they made
us have pep rallies for field hockey.

We're being invaded by communists!

Bro! Daria and Jane are communists planted
here by the government to wreck team sports.

Remember that game when
you fell on your head?

Remember how you thought Vince Lombardi
was sending you plays from hell?

Heaven, bro! Vince
Lombardi did not go to hell.

But... if Quinn's cousin is
an atomic communist from Mars,

shouldn't she have a
more interesting outfit?

Stop it, Tiffany! You're scaring me!

Yeah, yeah, I heard it, too.

Two of my favorite luscious ladies out
to enslave Earth males and end gym class?

Someone's been reading my dreams.

A lot of weirdness around here lately.

Yeah. I won't be sorry
to see this day end.

You say that every day.

Oh, yeah.

Although this one was especially
strange. But the worst is over now.

Remove these restraints!
Governmental thugs!

This isn't Stalingrad!

You're damn right, pal.
And it isn't going to be.

You can't do this. I'm an educator!

Say it again! It only makes it easier.

Um, the worst is over now?

Don't bet on it.

Quinn, I'm so happy
you're still one of us.

Really.

Well, God, Stacy, what did you think?

Quinn's right, Stacy.

Just because she was acting completely weird and
not confiding in her dearest, most loyal friends

is no reason to decide she'd finally given up her sad
charade and revealed herself as a two-faced, little...

Um, let's resume
discussing... plaids... later.

Plaids?

Yes, Stacy. Plaids.

Okay, plaids.

I'll see you to the door and,
you know, open it and stuff.

Quinn, I'm so happy
you're still one of us.

Would you stop with the voices already?

Come on, not even aliens would
give the planet to the Fashion Club.

You're getting paranoid.

I'm not talking about aliens.

But there's something out
there. Something stupid.

You get rattled too easily.

By the way, can you
come over here right now?

I'm really scared.

I see. And to what do
I owe this mood swing?

It's Trent's song. You gotta listen and
tell me if it's getting more cheerful.

Now who's paranoid?

Come on, I'll order a pizza.

And don't tell your
folks where you're going.

I don't want your mother
getting all... motherly.

Hey, kiddo! Going out?

Yeah, I'm going for, um... a power walk.

A power walk?

Helen, Helen, it's Daria!

She just went for a walk!

That's encouraging.

Encouraging?! Don't you see?

Daria's turning wholesome
and Quinn's a beatnik.

What's going on?

Well, it's simple. They've
switched personalities.

They have?!

It's a joke, Jake. Geez!

Oh, Quinn! Hi, honey!

Your mother and I couldn't help noticing
you and Daria have been acting a little...

different lately. Is there
anything we should know?

Uh, let me think.

Today Mr. O'Neill said that
Daria is some kind of communist

and she's out to destroy
the American way of life.

Okay, I'm going to Sandi's. Bye!

Oh, my God! Did you hear that?

Oh, Jake, that man
O'Neill has a screw loose.

Besides, communists
like downtrodden aliens.

I remember now. He said
she was an atomic communist.

Okay, see you!

Gak! An atomic communist!

Jake, if you want I'll
call that Mr. DeMartino.

He's a bit high-strung but
he's a fixture at that school,

and he can tell us if
anything odd is happening.

Oh, yeah, and Mr. DeMartino was
led off in handcuffs. Toodle-oo!

God!
G-g-g-g...

Oh, my.

Come on now. Aliens
don't hide in the bushes.

It's probably just a stalker.

Yes, a stalker out to plant
a teen in a shallow grave.

Perfectly normal. I
feel much better now.

But, Kevvy.

Kevvy!

Didn't you say we were going to follow
her and save the world and stuff?

Oh, yeah. But...

I don't think we have to save
the world right this second.

Great!

Que passionato!

Hey! We're trying to
save the world here!

And I'm trying to find
the space maidens' ship

so they can take me back
and make me their love sl*ve.

Oh, cool.

Well, you were right.
Everyone has gone crazy.

I knew you'd try something, Kevin.

I figured I owed it to the team to
keep you from humiliating yourself.

Mr. O'Neill? Don't tell me
you're hunting communists, too?

I wouldn't call it hunting.

I heard a rumor about secret police kidnapping
educators and spiriting them off to the gulag.

But me? No.

I frequently go for walks with a, um,
flashlight in case the streetlights go out.

These reds come red-hot from the red
planet itself. We're talking Mars.

Charles, I think you mean Marx. Darn!

There goes my flashlight again!

Where'd you drop it?

You made it. Cool. I
was starting to... whoa!

Found it!

Great. Now maybe you
can answer our question.

Why are we all sneaking
around with flashlights?

Did we just see a U.F.O.?

You're getting paranoid.

It's probably just an informal
get-together of local stalkers.

You know, hang out, swap stories,
try out each other's skeleton keys.

But only an idiot would go
stalking with a flashlight.

Come on. This is Lawndale.

Oh, yeah.

You're right, Jodie. We've
all been acting very foolish.

Hey, man, speak for yourself.

Oh! Sorry, Kevin. But I wonder if
maybe a rally might be in order.

You know, something before
classes to promote understanding,

remove the fear, and increase the peace.

That's when we have practice! He's trying
to destroy football. He's one of them!

Who?

Um... I thought you knew.

Well! Is that song getting happier
or am I just getting more miserable?

It's verging on bouncy, all right.

But please, continue with
your delightful presentation.

Okay, looky.

You've got these government types at school
telling us to watch out for weird behavior.

Then the alien nut on
TV says the same thing.

Meanwhile, your parents are weird,

your sister is weird, and all the
kids at school look at us funny.

That's not new.

Yeah, but now there's
respect. And that song?

Maybe it's the alien signal and
Trent's beckoning to the U.F.O.

Ah, but the U.F.O. went away.

Well, maybe aliens don't like sucky music
and he's actually trying to save humanity.

When do we get to the crop circles?

Uh-oh. The music stopped.

Hey... what's going on?

Nothing.

- Nada.
- Not a thing.

Um... that's some song you're
working on. It's different.

Nothing different about
it. Nothing at all.

I gotta go and, uh, practice
my same music that uh...

isn't any different from
the other stuff I play.

What was that?

You're starting to get
weirded out, aren't you?

No, absolutely not.

Pizza!

Could you hurry up?

I got other pizzas to deliver, and if I
don't get them there on time, they're free.

I really gotta go.

On your way over here,
you didn't see any,

lights in the sky or anything, did you?

Oh, no! They're back?!

I hope they don't plan to
experiment on me this time.

I was a mess the last time.

See, they replace your skin with synthetic skin
that stretches real tight on your head in the summer.

That's why they come at night.

It makes it easier to steal your dreams.

They got this big, big
suction device that...

...and anyone who tells you aliens
are taking over their body is nuts.

All they want is our skin 'cause
your skin remembers what it feels.

Hey, you ever written any lyrics?

Fired again? Man, this
happens all the time.

Ever since my encounter
with those darn aliens!

We've got to face it,
Helen. We're the enemy!

We're the people we marched against!

That's why Daria has turned communist!

That's why we've lost our little girl!

Jake, Daria's never once called us capitalist
pigs or running dogs for the bosses.

This is probably just her way of
engaging in some kind of social activity.

Socialist, you mean!
What's happened to us?

The house, the cars,
my relaxed-fit pants!

All these things, all this relaxing?

We've got to recapture that hard
moral core and get back to the soil.

All right, Jake, no
more coffee after dinner.

Back from your power walk, sweetie?

Um... oh, yeah.

So you're walking for power,
is that it? Want to take over?

Kick over the whole apple cart?

Well, let me tell you, young lady,
if it's a group you want to join,

there's a little bunch I know called
the human race, and it ain't half bad!

Yeah. Thanks, Dad. That's
tremendously helpful.

Let's just make that no
more coffee for you ever.

Yeah.

So that's why I say :
commies aren't team players,

so keep them out of
team sports. All right!

Yay, no commie team!

Um, thank you, Kevin.

But actually, the communist
is your ultimate team player.

The team is all; the
individual, nothing.

Well then, never mind. All right!

Go, commies, go!

Good morning.

As you know, we're here to clear up
some misunderstandings and suspicions

so we can all feel better
about each other and ourselves.

So without further ado,

I present to you a work in
progress, a solo performance I call:

"Nothing to Lose But His Chains: The
Life of Karl Marx." The year is .

Oh, dear, that's my exercise tape.

Anthony! You weren't kidnapped!

All right!

I finally convinced those glorified dogcatchers
from Immigration that I am not an illegal alien.

But now I have a question.
Who told them I was?

Oh, anyone can make a mistake. Damn it!

Maybe it was the mind control babes from
space, Mr. D., trying to create a distraction.

Who?

Them.

Um, I hate to wreck a perfectly good
lynching, but you're the ones acting weird.

Us? Mr. O'Neill said you're
out to destroy football.

No! I was telling them about how
communists and Martians are the same.

That'll clear things up.

So there's no communist unfiltration?

And there's no alien takeover?

Oh, I don't know. How
do you explain that?

Don't say it. Let them k*ll us.

We're dressed this way for
Fashion Club solidarity.

One of us has a problem.
That's all you need to know.

Oh, dear! What kind of problem?

A private problem.

It's a neck zit!

Stacy!

Don't worry, Quinn. They
still don't know it's you.

Did I say the wrong thing?

Don't worry about it.

I liked it better when they
were under alien control.

It was so much more believable.

So you see, everyone?

Mr. DeMartino's disappearance, all
these communist and alien worries...

simple misunderstandings, all of them.

What do you say we cement our newfound unity by
joining hands and singing "Man in the Mirror"?

Oh, dear.

See? Look! What'd I tell you?

Secret hush-hush gatherings
right out in the open!

What is going on? I didn't
approve any assembly.

- This is a serious breach of discipline.
- But I...

People, people... how
do you get this to work?

Disperse immediately.
Damn piece of crap.

Kids are half deaf from
their damn music, anyway.

This assembly is unauthorized...
oh, the hell with it.

Hey, can I try that thing?

So you finally convinced your
dad that you're not a communist?

Yeah, I'm showing him how much I love money
by hitting him up for it every chance I get.

Hey, it's Trent's hell music!

So that's why he was acting strange.

He was writing a jingle.

If you don't have a car
or your present car sucks,

go to Happy Herb with
a few thousand bucks.

Then you can drive here,
you can drive there,

drive where you want,
Happy Herb don't care.

It won't make you better
or smarter, that true,

but you can drive around when
there's nothing else to do. So...

Go buy a car, buy a damn car, hit the
road to nowhere in your Happy Herb car.

I'm Happy Herb, and I
sell cars, so come on down.

So now you know.

Oh, um, nice jingle.

You don't have to tell me.
I'm a complete sell-out.

But I really needed the gig.

What's the going rate for
an artist's soul these days?

bucks, an hour of free
studio time and a set of tires.

That's it?

They're new tires.

Hey, look, it's that guy.

And what unspeakable acts did
the space beings perform on you?

They took my flesh and replaced
it with an alien synthetic skin.

A skin capable of sensations
you can't even imagine.

But that's not the worst of it.

he's gonna get his
skin wet and shrink it.

They used me, and then
they made me lose my job.

You saw it first on Sick, Sad World.

Alien love goddesses are depriving
Americans of their skins and their jobs.

Hey, cool.

We should be upset, right?

I don't know. Those
outfits look pretty good.