05x10 - Aunt Nauseam

[bunniefuu]

So, then Sandi said to Mr. O'Neill,
"Well, if you want to get technical, all

writing is plagiarism because you're
using words that already exist," and he

gave her an 'F' anyway.

Maybe she shouldn't have titled
her story Sandi Griffin's Dracula.

No hardtack tonight, lads.
We're going top-rail number one!

Gee, is it family babble time already?

That's Civil w*r talk, Daria.

What is that?

It's from my new Civil w*r cookbook.

Civil w*r cookbook. So you're
serving us amputated leg?

Eew!

No, it's corned pork and cabbage.

EEW!

Good news, everyone.

If it's about us lads goin' top-rail
number one, that's yesterday's broadsheet.

We've finally settled the ATC Motors
case after eight grueling months, and at

last I'm going to get some time
off to spend with my family.

Dad, who's that woman
in the business suit?

I mean it this time. Eric's, um,
exhausted, and he's taking twenty-eight days

to, uh, recuperate. All that espresso
he was drinking really wore him down.

Espresso?

To say nothing of those
prescription amphetamine donuts.

Daria!

So, he's in detox again?

Quinn!

Oh, right! Espresso...

Hellllooo? Oh, hello, Rita.

Uh oh, call the sibling
rivalry S.W.A.T. team.

What? Erin and Brian
are getting divorced?

Uh! You mean I spend the whole day in that
disgusting bridesmaid's dress for nothing?

No, you had to pay for it. Remember?

Well, of course I'd love to handle it, but
it's not really my area of expertise, and...

Rita, there's no such thing as a
simple divorce. Hang on, that's my

call-waiting. Hello? Oh, mom. Hi...
Well, I was just now talking to Rita about

that. See, I just came off
this back-breaking case...

You tell her!

Yes, I know this isn't easy for either
of them, but an attorney who specializes

in divorce could... Well, I wouldn't say
I'm the best lawyer in my firm. Eric's...

Really? Well, of course I want Rita in
the most capable hands possible. Don't

worry about a thing. Bye.

Rita? I'm in.

Oh God, Helen, no! The way you and your
sister fight, a man can only take so much.

Helen No, that was Jake. He says "hi."

Well, if I can't say Sandi Griffin's
Dracula, why does Brad Stoker get to say

Brad Stoker's Dracula?

Um, I think that's Bram Stoker.

I don't.

Perhaps not. But anyway, he gets to
say it because he made the story up.

Huh. Quinn, Dracula is an internationally
known, celebrity vampire. "He made the

story up."

Guys, how do you like my new dress? You
don't think the blue is too risqué? do you?

Not at all, and it goes
perfectly with your cell phone.

Really? You're not just saying that?

Quinn's right. For once, you have
chosen a dress that's not a complete

embarrassment to the rest of us.

Oh, thank you, Sandi!

Come on, let's get to the cafeteria
before they run out of shredded lettuce.

Uh!

Oh, no! Tiffany is wearing your
dress. Now what are you going to do?

In this canine go-go bar, the specialty
of the house is Hot Dog! Lap dancing lap

dogs next, on Sick, Sad World.

What do you think, Daria? Stonewall
Jackson fed his men these Johnny cakes the

night before the battle
of Chancellorsville.

Well, that explains
why they sh*t him there.

Alright, Rita, I've gathered the necessary
paperwork, and we can go over it when

you and Erin get here Saturday.

Actually, it will just be Erin. I'd come, but I promised Ralph
- you know, the

actor I've been dating
- I promised to take him to New York for his birthday,

maybe catch a play or two.

Uh-huh.

But I'll call you when
I get back. Good luck.

Well, that's just perfect.
Rita's not even coming.

Hey, that's great!

No, it's not! She's spending the
money I'm saving her on a trip for her

boyfriend to New York!

Johnny cake?

Hey.

You know, I can't get through on the
phone at all anymore. Isn't your sister

afraid her ear will
grow over the receiver?

Actually, my mother's the one burning up
the lines. My idiot cousin is suing her

husband for a divorce, and
mom got roped into handling it.

Ouch. Want to drive around the
block and give me the gory details?

No, I've already put a bitching session
with Jane on my calendar for tomorrow.

Okay, so, just want to drive around
the block with no discernable goal?

It's probably not a good
time for that. Thanks though.

No thanks nece...

... ssary.

So my mother gets caught up in this
crap with her family, and then our family

has to suffer for it.

And you're not even looking forward to
having a ringside seat at your cousin's

gut wrenching breakup?

I know. It's like I've
forgotten how to have fun.

Alright. Stacy? Tiffany? You may each
deliver your prepared statement about why

you should have the dress.

A debate was such a great idea, Sandi.

Followed by a rebuttal.

Eew. That word.

Stacy?

Well, I think I should have the dress
because Tiffany looks good in anything,

whereas I don't, due to a slight asymmetry
in my shoulders that is very painful

for me even to mention, but which this
particular dress minimizes while setting

off my eyes.

Very good, Stacy. And now, Tiffany.

Well, I think I should have the dress.

Um, Tiffany, is there
anything you want to add?

Yes. Thank you, and God bless.

Perhaps a debate is
not the way to go here.

Hmm, should I give Erin an "after you
dump him" make-over, or a "newly single

and sizzling" make-over?

That depends. Which one
involves boiling oil?

Now, while Erin's here, I want you both
to make her feel right at home. She's

family and she needs our love and
understanding. I could k*ll that sister of mine!

Bring on the guest! One fresh
pitcher of Martinis ready to pour.

Jake, Erin doesn't drink Martinis.

I know that. They're for
me, just in case Rita calls.

That must be Erin.

Rita!

Rita, why aren't you in New York?

Ralph broke up with me. Oh, if only mom
had sent me to Stadt along with Erin.

Erin's in Stadt? Switzerland?

Mom thought she could use a week at a spa,
to calm her nerves. Wasn't that thoughtful?

That's mom: always thinking of her
grandchildren. One of them, anyway. Um, Rita,

you know it would be really helpful if Erin
were here. It is her divorce, after all.

We call always call her if we have to.
Um, Helen? I kind of arranged to have my

house painted while I thought I'd be
in New York. I hope you don't mind if I

stay here with you this week?

Dear lord! What a great idea!

Oh, hi, Erin. Sorry about Brian. I hate
having to break up with guys I'm dating.

No, you're right, marriage isn't the
same as dating; nobody ever gives you

really nice appliances just for going
out with a guy. Erin, why are you crying?

First of all, Brian and Erin
need to list all their assets.

That should be a breeze for him. You
know the government fired him the day they

got back from their honeymoon? They've
been living off her salary while that

clown tries to pass
his real estate exam.

Well good. Then he has no
real claim on her property.

Aunt Rita? Um, Erin want you to know
that she and Brian kind of signed a

prenuptial agreement that she kind of
never told you about that kind of split

everything fifty-fifty.
She's gotta' go. Bye.

What?! Let me talk to her. Damn!

Say, um, Daria, could you, um, help
me in the, um, kitchen, with the, uh...

Johnny cakes?

Yeah, the Johnny cakes!

Smooth, Mr. Bond. Lead the way.

That little weasel made her sign a
prenup. He knew she was gonna' be the bread

winner. We've gotta' fight this, Helen,
all the way to the Supreme Court if we

have to.

Rita, the Supreme Court doesn't
handle divorces. They're swamped with

shoplifting cases. Now, there's a junior
associate in my office with a ton of

experience in matrimonial
law. I'll be happy to...

You'd put Erin's life in the
hands of a junior associate?

Rita. You said this was a simple divorce,
and it's not. I'm really not qualified

to handle something this complicated!

Oh, I see. You're willing to help provided
it doesn't take more than ten minutes

of your time. Well I'm sure mom and I
can figure out some way to hire a lawyer

who can.

Alright! I'll do it.

I can't take it, Daria! The fighting,
the yelling, and then always the crying.

Yours, you mean.

I've gotta' get out, at
least until the dust settles.

Or the bodies stop twitching.

Now we're gonna' need a signal. Okay,
when I call, if Rita is still here say,

uh, "the eagle has landed," and if
they're fighting say, "the crow flies at

midnight," but if she'd gone then,
"the pigeons are at rest." Got that?

Is there anyway to work in
"hark, I hear the cannon's roar?"

Good luck! Hi, Quinn. Bye now.

Dad's leaving?

Only until mom and Aunt
Rita stop being sisters.

Hmm, maybe after my Fashion Club meeting
we should just stay around the house

until Aunt Rita leaves. You know, to be
like peacekeepers? I'll cancel my dates.

You don't have any plans tonight, right?

Well, I was gonna' go downtown and
count the cracks in the sidewalk.

Oh, Daria, surely that can wait?
Can I make you a carrot juice?

But, Sandi, what if I agreed to wear
my dress only on odd numbered days, and

Tiffany agreed to wear hers
only on even numbered ones?

Stacy, days have names, not numbers.

Alternating sounds like a good idea.

Oh, sure! Until our enemies spread the
rumor that Stacy and Tiffany are trading

off a single garment, the only possible
scenario more horrifying than owning two

of the same dress.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

I'm sorry, Terresa, but we must return
these dresses. Here are the receipts.

Oh no. Um, guys, you bought these dresses
over two weeks ago. It's too late to

return them.

Surely those silly rules don't
apply to your most valued customers.

I'm really sorry. I can give you
some free shopping bags if you want.

I can't believe you bought my dress.

Excuse me, you bought my dress.

Guys! Guys! Stop the madness. Is a dress
really worth destroying the sacred bond

between Fashion Club member and Fashion
Club member? Stop your fighting before

it's too late!

Quinn, are you all right?

Knock it off, you little brats!

Who is this? Rita? Must
have the wrong number!

Damn it!

Now, prenup or no prenup, with a little
creative accounting, I think we can get

Brian to take a fairly modest lump sum.

God, I hope so. He's certainly old
enough to be earning his own money.

Tell me about it.

What's that supposed to mean?

Oh, hi, Erin. Uh-huh
WHAT?! That's great! Bye!

Guess what? The divorce is off.

But we were having so much fun.

Come on. Let's tell mom and Aunt Rita.

Just admit that employment has
never been one of your strong suits.

Mom! Aunt Rita!

Excuse me, but I have more important
things to do, like raise Erin.

Erin's twenty-four, Rita.

Listen! Brian flew to Switzerland to make
up, and they're having a second honeymoon.

On mother's credit card, no doubt.
You know, Jake and I barely had a first

honeymoon, because we had
to pay for our own wedding.

And that's supposed to be my fault?

Well, if you hadn't gone over-budget
on your wedding, six months before. Your

first wedding...

Hey, how's it going?

Four thousand dollars
for a lighted dance floor!

Helen, disco was king!

Oh, just fine.

Mom broke every rule of
parenting, the way she favored you!

It's just like you to declare
the rules for everyone else!

Oh, when will it stop? When?! When?!

Care to step away from the crossfire?

What the hell is going on in there?

Look, it's bad enough I have to listen
to it all day. I don't want to have to

talk about it, too.

Um, sorry. So...

I better go. Mom might need an eyewitness.
Or someone to hand her the m*rder w*apon.

Daria... ?

What?!

Nothing.

Hello?

Daria? Thank God it's you! So, um, has
the eagle landed? Or is it the crow?

Aunt Rita's still here, and...

Daria, is that your father?

No, no, no, no!

A large pizza with extra cheese. Got
it. Thanks for calling Pizza Prince.

You're up.

Awww...

Where is your father anyway?

Johnny Cake Fest .

Great! Now Jake's run off.

Did you ever think he might stick around
more if you weren't so preoccupied with work?

Excuse me? The only work I've been
doing around here is for you, damn it!

Hello?

Hi, Aunt Amy.

Rita, we need to talk.

Relax. I'm going home to the paint fumes.
And don't worry. Erin and I will never

bother you again.

Look, I think we both said things we
shouldn't have, but for once, let's not go

away angry. Okay?

I don't know, Helen.

I've got an idea. Let's bury the hatchet
and, um, bake some cookies. What do you say?

Cookies? From scratch?

More or less.

Chocolate chip or peanut butter?

The chips are already in it, right?

Of course! I think...

Aunt Amy?

Daria called for reinforcements. Have
your mother and Rita k*lled each other yet?

Actually, they're in the
kitchen making cookies.

No, really?

You're cutting those slices too thick.

The package says half an
inch. That is half and inch.

Okay. I just hope you like
your cookies undercooked.

Here. You cut it. I'm sure you can do a
much better job that little ol' useless me.

Oh, please. You weren't even trying. You
know, if you ever put your mind to anything...

Why can't they just get along?

Environmental factors: they were both
exposed to each other as children.

Come in.

The cavalry has arrived.

Oh, speaking of soldier junk, Daria, Gone
with the Wind is on tonight. We should

watch it. It has that Civil w*r that you
and dad are always talking about, plus

this really big fire.

Frankly, Quinn, I don't give a crap.

You don't have to decide right now.
Oh, and did I tell you your hair doesn't

look that bad today? Bye.

I know she wants something.

So, update?

Okay. Mom and Aunt Rita are on the
brink of mutually assured destruction,

Quinn's obviously having a nervous
breakdown, and dad's on the lamb.

Gee. Reminds me of my
childhood. You holding up okay?

Well, much as I couldn't care less about
Erin, I can't say my twenty-four year

old cousin's near divorce has left me
exactly optimistic about life's possibilities.

So, things are not going well
with that guy you've been seeing?

Huh? That's going fine, except he
won't stop dropping by during this

multigenerational family crisis. He
refuses to accept the fact that I don't have

time for him now.

Hmm... Maybe he's trying
to offer his time to you.

Huh, maybe.

Come on. Let's see how goes the battle.

Even if I did have a job, I'm sure it
couldn't possibly meet with your approval.

I guess we'll never
find that out, will we?

Ah, another Kodak moment
with the Barksdales.

Amy! What are you doing here?

Oh, I thought I'd drive a few hours,
drop by, and see if you guys were having

the same fight you've been
having for forty years.

How would you know? You spent the whole
time barricaded in your room, reading

those weird Russian novels.

It was better than getting
caught in the non-stop crossfire.

Oh, please. You just used us as an
excuse to avoid any family responsibility

what-so-ever, so you could do
whatever the hell you pleased.

At least I didn't nurse a childhood
grudge well into adulthood because Rita was

mom's favorite.

I did not!

I was not!

You are too.

She's right.

I don't need your help.

Maybe mom would get along better with
both of you if you ever bothered to pick

up the phone and call.

Um, mom?

Why should we when she's never offered us the
slightest bit of encouragement or appreciation?

That's right!

I don't need your help.

Encouragement? You, with your grades,
and your extra credit, and your awards?

You didn't make us look lazy enough,
you wanted encouragement to do more?

What are you laughing at?

She's got a point.

She can laugh if she wants to.

Oh, so you think that...

Hey!

Gee, Rita, are you ever gonna' get a
job? Why should I, Helen, when you won't

pay attention to mother?
And you, Amy, who asked you?

Yeah! You had a dance
floor at your wedding!

You're a show-off
and a know-it-all.

You just hide in your
room like a kermit!

Mom likes you better!

That's because I call her better!

Oh, Rita...

Helen...

I'm sorry.

Me too. Oh...

Why are you here, Amy?

Daria asked me to come mediate.

Although, perhaps that's something
she's better at than I am.

Oh, Amy...

Come here...

I blame you for this.

Did you decide about Gone with the Wind?

So, then, after Aunt Amy arrived to
save the day and within three minutes had

totally regressed into the same
pre-school encounter group as her sisters,

Quinn and I had to take
matters into our own hands.

Wow. Growing up in a repressed household
is so boring next to this stuff.

We always have to pretend problems don't
exist. Gets pretty inconvenient when

there are odors involved.

Yes. And speaking of pretending problems
don't exist, sorry for giving you the

short end of the stick this week.

Hey, you were busy
refereeing. I understand.

Actually, I think my cousin's little
marital crisis made me feel weird about the

boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Does
that freak you out and scare you?

No, I guess I could see that.

Thanks.

Anyway, what about a movie tonight?

I can't. I promised Quinn I'd
watch Gone with the Wind with her.

Okay, that freaks me out and scares me.

Pray for me.

As President of the Fashion Club, I am
putting both of you on suspension for

failing to do a wardrobe check before
leaving home, and thus appearing in the

same dress on the same day.

But, Sandi, you can't
suspend me. It's not fair!

My dress. It's ruined.

Oh, Tiffany, I am so
sorry. It was an accident.

Sure it was, Stacy. She'll never get
that grape soda out. This calls for severe

disciplinary action.

But I didn't mean to. I swear!
I'll give you my dress to prove it.

You'd do that? For me?

Of course. You're my friend.

Oh, Stacy...

Oh, that wasn't a good idea.

That movie was so sad.

I know it made me feel like crying. Um,
Quinn? There's something bothering you,

other than the saga of our fair
nation being torn apart, isn't there?

No.

I only ask because I finally realized
all that stuff going on here this week was

making me act strangely toward Tom.
So maybe you were having a similar,

unanticipated reaction? Such as,
oh, wanting to spend time with me?

Hello? Oh, hi, dad.
The pigeons are at rest.

Daria? You don't think we'll end up
having the same fight over and over again,

for the rest of our lives, the
way mom and Aunt Rita do, do you?

No. We'll use weapons.

Don't say that!

I'll make you a deal. The only w*apon
I'll use against you will be my winning

personality, and the only w*apon you'll
use against me will be your merciless

silent treatment.

Silent treatment? I never... Ha! Deal.

"The pigeons are at rest." That means
it's safe, doesn't it? No, "the eagle has

landed" means it's safe. Or was that a
condor? Damn it, I can't sleep in here

again tonight!