04x04 - m*rder, She Snored

[bunniefuu]

I never thought I would say this,
but the grades on these tests were

miraculously above my low expectations.

I like a teacher with no
ambitions for his students.

Yeah, high standards only give
us something to strive for.

Yes! I passed and I got the extra point!

All right!

Kevvy? What's that "A"
doing on your paper?

Why, Brittany, that's the most
intelligent question you've asked all year.

Thanks!

Kevin?

I have an "A" because...
I got a hundred?

That's right, Kevin. In fact, almost the
entire football team, despite repeated

cranial trauma and a chronic inability to
solve the maze on a cereal box, got a hundred.

Go, team, go!

Only Mr. MacKenzie got a "B".

Go, Mack, go.

Forgive me my suspicions, but it's obvious
that someone ... Kevin ... got a hold

of the test beforehand ... Kevin ...
which would account for the jimmied lock on

my filing cabinet ... Kevin!

But who does he really suspect?

That Jimmy guy?

Perhaps you would like to share with
us your knowledge in this matter?

But I don't know anything.

Can't accuse him of lying there.

I think you do know something about
the incident, Kevin. I think that if you

didn't steal the test yourself, then
you know who did, and is it not true that

you needed an "A" to get
off academic probation?

Nah, the coach said he'd fix
my... I mean, hey, I studied!

Kevin, who were the principle
players in the Teapot Dome scandal?

The New Orleans Saints?

Teapot Dome, Kevin, not Superdome!

Teapot... the New England Patriots!

How many teams are there in the NFL? I want
to know if this is going to run into lunch.

Where were you Monday afternoon?!

Um, hanging out with the team?

Before you run off to your next class
for your naps, know that unless the guilty

party comes forth, everyone will receive
an "F" on the test! Do I make myself clear?

This sucks. The first
time I get a , too.

Funny, from here, it looks like an .

I grade myself on a curve.

Everyone knows you took that test, so would
you just admit it so we all don't fail?

becoming a pro cheerleader will be ruined,
and that will give me a permanent headache!

So get one of those really
big bottles of aspirin.

I mean, Kevvy, that I'll have a
headache next time we're alone.

Oh! So, you want me
to bring the aspirin?

But, babe, I didn't steal the test!

You just copied
it word-for-word.

Fine, Mr. and Mrs. Jealous-baby! Now
I know what it's like to be hated just

because you're a brain!

Did you hear that? You're no
longer the only brain in the school.

Hmmm... I guess I'll have to k*ll him.

Aw, don't k*ll him; you two
can start a support group.

Sorry, all my support groups
have a one member limit.

Damn idiot prima donna crybaby clients.
That's it, Helen! I'm changing careers!

Mm-hmm, and they made that
offer with a straight face?

Hey, kiddo, how was your day?

Fine. I heard a new voice inside my head
and Kevin stole a test, so everyone's

getting an "F."

That's great!

Daria, you were just kidding
about the voice, right?

Relax... we don't have to answer that.

Daria, if you need to talk, I...

I know! It's a clear-cut
case of neglect.

Can too many carrots make your head grow
leaves? Uh, what's that, doc?! In one

With the Brains and Beauty Butt
Buster, you too can have a rounder...

We're gonna round up the
posse, round up the posse...

What are we going to do? Serena's
inside the house with that m*rder*r.

We've got to save her before he
finds out she's a private eye.

What do you have to say
for yourself now, detective?

I knew the stolen microfilm had to be
sewn into the bikini, but I didn't count

on falling in love with you.

I'm surprised Ms. Li hasn't made Kevin
confess by now. You don't think she's

actually waiting for evidence?

No, she just doesn't want him to admit
anything until she's finished building

her new interrogation room.

Hmm. Questioning a suspect is
more fun with a cattle prod.

What isn't? Anyway, half the
class already wants to k*ll him.

They're just saying
that to get our hopes up.

Ouch.

When did my locker get so big?

Cyanide.

Must have come from the cafeteria.

Remind me to send my
compliments to the chef.

Wow, he doesn't look so good.

Dying can be harsh on
a person's appearance.

Who would do such a
thing... so thoroughly?

If I may offer a small observation,
it's a well-known fact that murderers

frequently return to the scene of
the crime to admire their handiwork.

You're not suggesting
that one of us did it?

If the shoe fits, Ms. Lane.

Wow, this is just like Cinderella.

Yes, and you've turned
into two pumpkins.

Huh?

Save your breath, people. I think I know
who's responsible for this heinous crime.

Ms. Morgendorffer, it is my duty to
inform you that you are the number one

suspect in the m*rder of Kevin Thompson.

What?!

It's always the quiet ones.

Ms. Morgendorffer, just answer as
truthfully as you can. Yeah, right.

Can't I just skip the investigation
and go straight to solitary confinement?

Sorry. No one is going to deprive me
of the opportunity to r*fle through the

personal property of individuals totally
unconnected to this case. Oop! I mean,

deprive you of your right to
justice. Now, nail her to the wall.

Oh, dear.

Well, well, well... Ms. Morgendorffer,
where were you Monday afternoon!

Hmm... after watching frustrated faculty
members squander yet another day trying

to teach the unteachable, I went home
and studied so I won't wind up in a job

that combines the stress level of a
neurosurgeon with the pay scale of a video clerk.

Your transparent attempt to derail my line
of questioning with sarcasm has been noted.

What Mr. DeMartino is trying to say,
Daria, is that a more positive attitude

might make this informal rap session more
pleasant for all of us. Would you like

a soda?

Isn't it true that you were furious at
Kevin for causing your "F" and the black

mark on your permanent record?

In other words, Daria, is it at all
possible that perhaps you were just a teensy

bit frustrated that a fellow student's
alleged transgressions cancelled out all

of your hard work?

Actually, I believe you gave me the "F."

Cookies? They're chocolate chip.

Quit avoiding the issue and
admit it, Daria! You hated Kevin!

What Mr. DeMartino is trying to say...

That's it!

I can't work with this amateur! He's
screwing up my delivery! Do we have to do

good cop, bad cop?

Anthony, it sounds like
you have issues about...

Out!

Eep!

Now... about your hating Kevin.

Why would I hate Kevin? Just because he
was destined to go pro and make millions

of dollars endorsing his own line of
odor-eaters? Because he had his whole life

in front of him...

Damn him.

Because society rewards brain-dead
athletes with cash prizes and RV dealerships

while the most you can hope for is a
car roof that doesn't leak when it rains?

I should've wrapped my hands around
his oafish young neck and... Daria, quit

changing the subject.

Mr. Pibb?

Arggghhh!

Daria, how was school today?

Well, let's see... no one talked to me
at lunch, and I'm the number one suspect

in the m*rder of Kevin Thompson.

Good for you! Say, Daria, what would
be an exciting new job for a youngish,

still vital self-starter who
can bring a lot to the table?

Waiter at Pizza Forest?

Daria, you were just kidding about
lunch, right? Damn! Where's that abstract?

Mom? I was wondering if you could give
me some advice on the legal system, or

just teach me how to summon
guards with a tin cup.

Sure, honey, but right now I'm late for
my meeting so it'll have to wait till I

get back.

Okay. If I'm not here, I'll be
starring in the prison rodeo.

Have fun!

Great.

Can I help, honey?

Not unless you're a detective.

Detective... oh, yeah!

Oh, no.

And if I don't find out who k*lled
Kevin, I'm watching Sick, Sad World in the

prison weight room. You try yelling "down
in front" to someone with head staples.

Look, Daria, I'd like to help, but
I've got another crime to solve.

I sure hope Tom hasn't been kidnapped.

Didn't I tell you? Trent's dead.

What?

Come on, I'll show you.

Trent...

I found him like this yesterday. I
haven't had the heart to move him.

I can't help but think that a one-armed
man is somehow involved. I guess you two

will never know what might have been.

Oh, hi, Daria. Just catching up on a
little sleep before it gets dark. Oh, hey,

Janey, can I have my back scratcher?

There you are, honey. Look! I'm a
detective. I'm ready to solve your case.

Enjoy prison.

Sacre bleu! Your face! It's so big!
What about me? Is my face big, too?

I don't believe this. There's only one place
left for me to turn, and it's not pretty.

Angels, I've got some bad news. Star
quarterback Kevin Thompson has been m*rder*d!

Oh, no! But he was so cute.

How come they never
k*ll the ugly people?

Or the people who wear
sandals with socks?

You tell me, Angels. You're the detectives.
Now, the chief suspect in the case

has hired us to prove her
innocence. A Ms. Daria Morgendorffer.

Oh, no...

Eww. Upchuck, she's so... unpopular.

Hey, Quinn. Isn't she, like,
your family's cabana girl?

Actually, she's our cabana girl's
cou... our cabana girl's adopted cousin.

So, we'll accept the case?
She's willing to pay up front...

Well, I could use a matching case for
my g*n. You know, with a pearl handle and

a built-in makeup mirror.

Yeah, and my holster is so pre-Glock.

This is so wrong. My
thighs are all bulgy.

Tiffany, dear, what are you doing here?

I just thought I'd check and see if any
of you is quitting to go into movies so

I can be the new angel.

We're in, Upchuck.

Good work, Angels. I
knew I could count on you.

Feisty!

The first thing we should do is
find out where the body was dumped.

Well, not to jump to conclusions, but
the crime scene tape might be a clue.

Really? I was going to
say the pool of blood.

Look, a chalk outline.

I wonder if it belongs to anybody.

I hope not. It's so fat.

I know. Don't they have
chalk outline workouts?

Tiffany! You're not even supposed to be here
until Quinn leaves over creative differences.

What?

Sorry.

Quinn, you want me to erase
the chalk outline for you?

No, me!

Me!

No, come on, man!

Guys, you're smudging it.

Two, four, six, eight. Kevin's on
his final date. Go! Mr. O'Neill!

I'd like to say few words about the
dearly departed. Kevin was... Kevin! We

hardly knew you.

Come on, let's go grill the merry widow.

I wish they'd get the funeral over with.
This cemetery is kind of depressing.

Maybe they should get rid
of all the dead people.

Good idea, but they should bury
them somewhere else, don't you think?

Brittany, how were you and Kevin
doing before his untimely death?

We weren't doing anything! I swear!

A likely story. He was going
to break up with you, wasn't he?

Say, for another girl with
bendable legs and a Malibu house?

Daria! Jane! I can't believe that
you're trying to find out if Kevin's

available. I mean, hitting on
a dead guy... that's really sick.

What can I say about Kevin? That he
was, well, he was, um... he never made

anyone feel stupid. Thank you very much.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Thanks. It's funny, but I still can't
believe I'll never see Kevin again.

It must've been tough being around Kevin
day in, day out. What was that name he

used to call you? Mack Mama,
Mack Brother, Macarthur...

Mack Daddy! Mack Daddy! I hated
that name! Hated it, do you hear me?

I would just like to say that I'm glad
Kevin is dead. I wish all males were

dead. Thank you, and go Lions.

Lawndale High is proud to announce
the establishment of the Kevin Thompson

Memorial Foundation, which will oversee
public service projects in the spirit of

Kevin. Like, um, or, uh... so in
conclusion, I'd like to announce the

dissolution of the foundation and remind
everyone that the pep rally starts in

one hour.

I can't help but think that there's something
in here that Upchuck's Angels overlooked.

Wow, that's a stretch. Probably just
some incriminating piece of evidence that

Ms. Li will jump all over
as proof of your guilt.

Right on schedule.

Ms. Morgendorffer, you're under arrest
for the m*rder of Kevin Thompson. Book

her: m*rder one.

Dad? I thought you'd become a detective.

I got deported. Lousy
immigration officials!

Jake! Would you please act like you're
the law on these streets. Honey ... I mean

you lousy, two-bit punk ... do you
have anything to say in your defense?

No, except that Kevin d*ed of
everything except a g*nsh*t wound.

Hey, can I see that cool g*n?! I mean, I
think I should examine the w*apon for clues.

Guess you won't be
dusting for fingerprints.

Huh?

Look, I don't mean to interfere with
your rush to judgment, but if you give me

ten minutes, I think I can prove
who's responsible for Kevin's death.

Go on, Ms. Morgendorffer,
but be quick about it.

Round up the suspects.

Right, chief. I always
wanted to say that.

Buck up, Skinny.

I just can't stop
thinking about poor Kevin.

Sure, you can. Yah!

Daria, I can't believe you're
still talking about this.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah.

That is so yesterday.

The reason I've gathered you all here
is that one of you k*lled Kevin Thompson,

and no good deed should go unpunished.

Is this going to take long? Because with
poor Kevvy gone, I need to find a date

for Saturday.

Maybe I should've been a video clerk.
At least I would've gotten some free

movies out of my lousy job! "Hello,
sir. Will that be one night or two?"

Ms. Morgendorffer, get to the point.

On the morning of Kevin's m*rder, I,
by chance, coated my locker with an

invisible, time-activated paint. Anyone
who came in contact with that locker

will notice that their hands
are turning a bright pink... now.

See? Innocent.

Me, too.

Actually, I believe that you are all
guilty. You see, I made up that story about

the paint, knowing that only the
guilty parties would check their hands.

Huh?

All right. I did it, but I had just
cause. I worked all my life for that and

he just came and took it away, dammit.

I was meeting Tom for lunch and didn't
want to reek of gunpowder, so I decided

to swipe Trent's cyanide. He and the
band are saving it in case they don't make

it by the time they're fifty.

I went to the cafeteria and waited for
Kevin to perform his daily lunch dance

offering to the gods.

I'm a bull with a runny
nose! Get it? Running Bull.

And then, I slipped the cyanide into
his nutty-butter and banana sandwich.

But that was it. I didn't strangle him
or sh**t him with an arrow or even club

him. You've gotta believe me. I
draw the line at physical exertion.

Well...

Wait a minute. I was
nowhere near that locker.

Too late.

Damn!

Oh, all right. So I might have hit him
a little hard on the head with my club,

but only because I wanted him dead.

Really? Me, too.

Uh, I told Mom no almonds.

Later.

Et tu, Mack Daddy?

I told you to not to call me that!

I hope this arrow thingy works.

A paperboy gets more respect than I
do. Better Christmas presents, too.

It's going to be a good day.

Your ridiculous portrayal of a corpse is
an insult to widows and orphans and me!

Oh, yeah! This is really
working for me. Mmm!

And then she said she doesn't even care
if V-necks make her shoulders look slopey.

No?!

We'll finish this later,
Kevin. Don't go anywhere.

This is all very well and good, Ms.
Morgendorffer, but I'm afraid it still

doesn't explain the g*n in your locker.

There's my antique water p*stol. Excuse
me, but I need this. The photographer is

here to sh**t my calendar.

What the heck! Let's execute her anyway!

Sorry, sweetie. I mean,
you low-life weasel.

Yeah! Hope things work
out for you in the beyond.

Wait. Don't I get a say in this?

Too late. I already ordered the electric
chair with your height specifications,

and I'd be wasting valuable school
funds if I didn't put it to good use.

Don't worry, I'll take care
of your bone collection.

Can't get auto insurance because no one in
their right mind will write you a policy?

Wow, that's some dream. It was nice of
you to take the rap for k*lling Kevin.

You know ... good cause.

Just as I predicted, the cowardly
guilty party has refused to come forward.

However, I've decided not to automatically
fail the rest of you, this time.

Those with plummeting scores on this new
test will be under great suspicion, as

will any individuals I just don't like.

Doesn't that more or
less cover everyone?

I'm dying! Dying.

Oh, look, Lord Olivier has arrived.

Just kidding, guys.

Just kidding?

Ugh. Hey, Mr. D... that kind of hurts.

Try winning the Heisemann
Trophy without a throat!

Maybe dreams do come true.

It could happen to you.

Mr. D? You can stop now. Mr. D?