We begin with a black screen, nothing but darkness filling the view. We slowly fade into a star field, a few of the points of light traveling across the background in the same direction. They travel right to left in some form of formation. After a few seconds, a trio of long, slender probes slides into view from the lower right corner. Other probes and sensors slide into view surrounding the first three as we pull back to travel along the length of a double headed, interstellar dreadnought. Docking ports, communication antennas, running lights, view ports, weapon arrays, and other bundles of equipment that we can only guess at fill the sides of the vessel as we pass down the length of it. Small groups of cruisers and destroyers keep pace along side the massive command vessel. A trio of fighters passes close to the dreadnought as the ship's engines come into view. Three silhouettes of Jimmy Neutron riding the bike version of Goddard line the back of the ship, a red circle with a line through it covering over each one.

The view changes into a ship's corridor. Enlisted types, their arms filled with tools, lights, pads and other equipment, rush back and forth engaged in their duties as officers walk past at a more dignified pace befitting their high rank. One officer pauses to brush some lint off his black on black uniform as members of the crew flow past on either side of him, nearly running into each other as they avoid the officer. A side door opens and the entire ship's crew, both enlisted and officer alike immediately halt and come to sharp attention as a black male steps into the corridor, the thick, solid golden braid on his sleeves designating his high rank. He pauses to review a datapad as he runs a hand across the closely cropped hair under his hat. He turns to walk up the corridor, members of the crew dodging out of his way as they come to attention. The officer continues down the passageway, down two flights of stairs and out onto the ship's bridge. Armored troopers, dressed in gray uniforms with black helmets line the walls while additional crewmembers, none daring to pause and give the officer a quick glance, staff each busy console. Runners fill the empty spaces between each bank as we continue to follow the officer as he continues across the bridge, pausing only to peer over the shoulders of some of the seated troopers. He turns to walk along an empty walkway off the bridge until he reaches a set of closed, double doors. A nervous subordinate interrupts him by shoving a number of paper forms into his hands. The more advanced officer looks down at the minor officer from under the brim of his hat as the subordinate turns a ghostly white and attempts to come to attention as uncontrollable shaking takes control of his body. The officer returns to the stash of papers taking a few moments to review and make notes on a couple of them. He nods to himself, passes the papers back to the subordinate without a look, and pulls out a badge out of his pocket. The subordinate beats a hasty retreat as the officer swipes the badge in a reader near the doors. He pauses as we hear the subordinate trip over something off screen in his hasty retreat. The bridge falls silent as he turns slightly to make an example of the officer. He pauses, shrugs, and walks through the double doors knowing there will be one less mouth to feed at mess call this evening. The bridge returns to normal as the doors close behind him.

The officer pauses to adjust his uniform as his eyes adjust to the low light of the darkened room. His eyes pass over the modern, electronic torture devices that fill the room. They sit empty and, with a quick glance, well used. He pauses to wipe away a small grease stain off one of the machines. He makes a mental note to talk to maintenance as he stands straight as a rod, takes a deep breath and walks with a sharp step across the room. He pauses behind a high-backed chair that faces a wall made out of glass. Red sparks from the other side of the glass temporary light up the room as the officer stiffens his spine even more as he comes to attention behind the chair. After a few moments, he looks down to the chair. All we can see is a thin, black gloved hand resting on the armrest. A fly buzzes near the arm.

The seated person: (A low, feminine, mechanical voice that sounds a bit familiar to us.) Is everything set, Admiral Galloway?

Admiral Galloway: Everything is in place, sire. We merely await your word to initiate phase two of the operation.

The seated person: (She pauses for a second to think as she begins to tap her hand against the chair arm. The fly buzzes nearer to her hand.) And our agent? Is he in place?

Admiral Galloway: His capture of the famous Daria fanfiction author went without a hitch. (A high-pitched scream makes its way past the glass as Admiral Galloway cringes at what he sees.) He has taken his place. No one suspects a thing. (Beat.) He appears to have gone into semi retirement, only appearing when he wants to make a small comment on one of their entertainment devices. I believe they call it an Internet message board.

The seated person: You briefed the agent yourself one last time before he left on his mission. (She pounds her fist into the chair. The fly buzzes away for a moment but then returns.) Nothing can go wrong! The plan must go correctly!

Admiral Galloway: (He pauses to run a finger around his collar as he checks his notes.) Our agent will wait until the opportunity presents itself and then he will act. After replacing all of the Daria authors and fans, he will move to other fanfic universes. After the Daria fandom has been subverted, he will move onto Star Trek, Friends, Harry Potter, Dragonball Z, and then those idiots who write stories about the M&M's characters in their commercials. Soon afterwards, we will move in with the rest of the subversion teams and get our revenge for all of humankind's insults towards our people.

The seated person: (Her black gloved hand snaps out to close on the fly between two fingers. Its wings beat hard trying to pull away as the hand pulls it in.) Excellent. (The hand slowly grinds the fly to pulp.) For years, I have watched the people of this puny planet forget about me. They go on with their measly lives as any thought about me is directed towards that damn upstart. (Beat.) Soon, I will have my revenge and they'll regret how they forced me out of their lives!

The two of them laugh evilly as we fade to black.

A rooster crows over the black screen. It crows again as the sun appears over a hill in the background. As it gets lighter, we see the front of the Morgendorffer house from about fifty feet off the ground. As birds chirp to welcome the new day, we begin to pull into a close shot of the front door. As the camera stops, the door opens and Daria, freshly showered and holding a travel mug, pauses to stop on the doorstep. She is wearing black jeans and a gray t-shirt with "Choices Wrap Party" on the front of it. She leans against the doorframe, yawns and takes a long sip of her coffee. She perks up slightly, shakes herself and begins to walk towards the SUV parked in the driveway, taking the keys out of her pocket. The SUV turns over on first try. The camera follows as she backs out of the driveway, showing us three silhouettes of cheerleaders crossed out with red on the bumper. We watch Daria drive through an empty, early morning Lawndale while she occasionally takes sips of her coffee. She finally pulls into the Lane driveway and honks her horn. She sits there drumming her fingers for a few seconds before honking again, this time a little longer then before. Trent opens the front door and waves to her suggesting that she should come over to the house. Daria turns off the SUV, climbs out, yawns, slips her coffee, and walks over to him. Trent's dressed in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants.

Trent: (Fully awake. Someone has to be that early in the morning.) Morning, Daria.

Daria: (Trying hard not to yawn again.) Morning, Trent. Where's Jane?

Jane: (From off screen. She doesn't sound too happy.) Tell Daria that I'm not going! It took him over a year to write the first version and he didn't even finish it!

Trent: (Chuckling softly.) When her agent called last night about the start of filming for the DVD version of Cynic Hood, she went into hiding under her bed. Last I saw her, she was trying to convert the cats into guard dogs, had blocked her door with painting supplies, and had built a crate so she could be FedExed off to Abu Dhabi.

Daria: Abu Dhabi?

Jane: (Still off screen.) Tell him to get Andrea to take my place. She needs the work.

Trent: I think she's still upset about the extra scene that Doctor Mike wrote in.

Jane: (They get paid less when they do their lines off screen so why not.) There's no way I'm doing a love scene in a Dr. Mike work. Or a musical number. He's demented! He's weird! He's... He's... He'll put me in a dog suit like Crazy Nutso did. I'll be the laughing stock of the Daria fan community!

Daria: (Under her breath.) Like that ever stopped her in the past. (With a sigh.) Well, we'd better go get her. If I have to relive this nightmare again, mind as well have some company to share the fun.

Daria and Trent disappear into the house. After a few seconds, we hear some scuffling, a few loud bangs, a cow moo, and a short scream from Daria. The front door opens again as Trent and Daria carry out Jane. Daria has Jane's hands while Trent has her feet. Jane's dressed in a black tee with black tights. Her hair is still very messy from sleep. She's pulling behind her something that looks like packing material that is caught up in the door.

Jane: (Struggling just a tad.) You know this is demeaning.

Daria: I can't believe you tried to take a bit out of my arm. Just for that, we're not stopping for breakfast on the way.

Jane: Look, I'm sorry I bit you but please don't make me go back to the set. I still have the nightmares from the first time. The late night sweats. The throbbing headaches. The fear that Dr. Mike will want to write just one more chapter!

Daria: He's not that bad, Jane.

Jane: I'd even participate in a Jane/ Ms. Li shipper first before taking on another Dr. Mike work!

Daria opens the back door one handed and closes it after she and Trent shove Jane into the back seat. Daria climbs back into the front, starts the SUV, and pulls off with a honk and a wave to Trent. We continue driving through Lawndale, Jane's face up against the window in a few shots. We pull into another driveway in front of a house that's in bad shape. It shows massive damage followed by someone trying to cover it up with a quick, poorly done purple paint job. The lawn looks like it hasn't been mowed in months and a large pile of trash and broken furniture sits near the curb. Daria shuts off the SUV and they both climb out. Jane tries to make a quick getaway but is grabbed by Daria as they walk towards the door. Daria reaches for the doorbell but stops as she notices a note pinned to the doorframe. She pulls it down and starts to read it.

Daria: (She smirks as she reads.) Well, you're not the only one trying to get out of this, Jane. Someone else is one step ahead of you though. (She passes the note to Jane who starts to read it.) I wonder if we can skip town also before he shows up. (They turn as a car horn is heard off in the distance.) Too late.

Jane: (She turns back to finish reading the note.) Someone's going to be very pissed. (Beat. She turns to Daria.) You know this will put us back a couple more months on this project.

Daria: Haven't we been working on Cynic Hood long enough now? We could have finished college and grad school by now.

(They turn as the horn sounds again. A pristine Hummer races up the street, hops the curb, and slams to a halt on the grass. Hey, I'm the author. I'll park where I want. If I want to tear up some grass, no one's going to stop me.)

Daria: Oh look. It's Dr. Mike.

Jane: And his Dr. Mike mobile.

Dr. Mike: (Getting out of the Hummer, he walks up with a huge stack of scripts under his arm. He drops a few, bends over to pick them up while dropping a few more until he finally retrieves the entire ragged pile.) Sorry I'm late but I was watching this interesting show on MTV at the hotel. (He stops as he looks around as if something's missing out of the conversation.) Seems like someone should have had a snappy comeback on that one. (Finally noticing that we're all still standing outside.) Why are we standing out here on the lawn? I would think you would be inside drinking all the coffee you can and waiting in line to use the bathroom.

(Jane smirks as she hands the note to Dr. Mike.)

Dr. Mike: (Reading.) To Dr. Mike if he ever learns how to read. God knows he can't write worth a... (He pauses to reread that bit again and looks up.) What a smart ass. Who the hell does she think she is? (He continues to read until he reaches a certain point in the note and his eyes go wide in shock.) They left town? Urgent business back in England? How are we suppose to finish Cynic Hood, The Jungle Series, The Cruiser, Cynic Beach, and Cynic in the Hood now? (He throws the note down and goes to peek in a window.)

Jane: (To Daria.) Whatever happened to Cynic with a Side of Mac & Cheese? And how about Cynic Pot Pie?

Daria: Not funny, Lane. And what's with all the food titles?

Jane: Remember? We didn't stop for breakfast. I'm hungry. (Walking off.) Well, I guess we can go home now. He's going to have to do another rewrite. We're stopping for food though. (Beat.) And coffee. Gotta have my coffee.

Daria: (Joining her.) I wonder how long another rewrite will take.

Jane: Forty bucks says it's less than six months but more then three.

Daria: You're on.

(Daria and Jane climb back into the SUV and buckle up. Daria pulls her keys out of a pocket but is stopped by Jane who nods out the front window at Dr. Mike still looking through the window. Daria and Jane look at each other, sigh, and climb back out of the car. They walk over to him.)

Daria: I know I'm going to live to regret this but is there anything we can do to help?

Jane: While doing as little as possible of course.

Daria: Of course.

Jane: (Smirking.) I bet if you ask real nicely, you can get Daria to remind you why you like red heads with glasses so much.

Daria: (The eyebrows dip.) Have I told you lately how much I hate you?

Jane: (Thinking about it.) No, not recently.

Dr. Mike: I just wanted to finish Cynic Hood finally and move on to something different. Seems like every time I finish another portion of it, something else comes up to block it. Work, relationships, more work, having to move, even more work after that. The list goes on.

Daria: Maybe you could get other characters to fill in the vacant slots. Either that or convince another author to take on a role.

Jane: (An aside to Daria.) As if he could convince anyone else to take a shot at acting in one of his works.

Daria: We do.

Jane: Hmmm, didn't think about that.

Daria: With what we get paid, it's not something I would expect you to remember.

Jane: You get paid?

Daria: Yes, and so do you.

Jane: But after he takes out for all the coffee I drink off the craft services table, there's not much left.

Dr. Mike: What the hell am I going to do?

Jane: (Holding her stomach.) You know what always makes me think better?

Daria: (As a loud aside delivered with a smirk.) A fanfic where you get some?

Jane: (Back at Daria.) I hate you. (In a normal tone of voice.) Breakfast. I think we should sit down and enjoy a nice, full breakfast. (In a bit of a forced voice directed at Daria.) Wouldn't you agree, Daria? I didn't have time for a nice, full breakfast this morning. My ride this morning was in a bit of a hurry.

Daria: (In a deadpan.) Yes, I think a nice, full breakfast would be a good idea (With a quick glance at Dr. Mike and then as an aside.) as long as we can charge it to the expense account.

Jane pulls Dr. Mike slowly over to the SUV as Daria trails behind pulling her keys out.

Dr. Mike: Think they'll have french toast?

Jane: With powdered sugar and chocolate chips and all the thick, sticky syrup you can pour on them. (She turns back to Daria, smirks, and starts to say something.)

Daria: (The eyebrows go down yet again.) Say it and die, Lane.

Daria looks on in slight amazement as Jane guides Dr. Mike to the driver's side rear door. Daria reaches out to open her door as she drops her keys on the ground.

Dr. Mike: (Reaching down. I'm always so helpful.) I'll get them.

Just as Dr. Mike bends over to pick up Daria's keys, Daria opens her car door which impacts the side of Dr. Mike's head. He's out cold as he flops to the ground and rolls over onto his back.

Daria: Congratulations. You just killed off a fanfic author. You fulfilled the hopes and dreams of millions. Well, maybe hundreds. You have earned your spot in the chronicles of history. (Beat.) Especially considering who it was.

Jane: (Bending down to feel for a pulse. At least I hope someone would.) Damn it. Not again.

Daria: (Surprised at this statement.) What do you mean 'Not again'?

Jane: (Ignoring the question.) He's just out cold. Help me put him in the back seat. This innocent, young girl can't do it all be herself.

Daria: You? Innocent? That's a shock.

They struggle to put the limp body of the well respected and much loved fanfic author into the backseat of the SUV. After a few minutes of struggling and after getting Jane out from underneath him after she somehow got stuck when Daria shoved at the wrong time, they slam the back door, climb into the front and are off once again. They pull off as we hear:

Jane: What do you mean I'm not innocent?

We change views to show Daria driving the SUV and Jane sitting in the passenger seat as they continue to drive thru Lawndale suburbs. They have stopped off somewhere and are now munching down on some type of breakfast sandwiches and drinking new batches of coffee. Hmmm, I wonder if they got me anything. Of course I'm still passed out in the backseat. See? You can see one of my arms thrown over the back of the seat. They were kind of rough with me so I guess I get to stay passed out. Daria pulls to a halt and looks both ways before making a right hand turn.

Daria: What were you talking about back then?

Jane: (Over her coffee cup.) Hmmm....

Daria: That bit about powdered sugar and chocolate chips on french toast. I know for a fact that you hate french toast.

Jane: Oh, I was going to suggest he invite you over one night, pour them all over you and slowly start...

Daria: (Interrupting with a warning tone in her voice.) Jane...

Jane: (With a bit of a smirk.) Adding to the allure that is Jane Lane?

Daria: You wish. More like give fanfic authors out there something else they have to keep in the back of their minds like you and your coffee addiction.

Jane: (Still smirking.) Don't forget my wonderful contract.

Daria: Don't remind me. (Stopping at a traffic light.) You still didn't answer my question.

Jane: I just want to make sure Dr. Mike... (She pauses as they both turn to look at him still knocked out in the back seat.) ...gets to finish Cynic Hood. (She pauses again for a sip of coffee and continues in low voice.) I heard that even Candabrit thought it showed potential.

Daria: (A bit of disbelief in her voice.) More like you just want to win the bet.

Jane: (Again with a smirk as she pauses in her coffee drinking.) That too.

(Daria pulls into the intersection and we travel for a bit.)

Daria: You realize that unless we take charge, he's going to be doing rewrites for another couple of years.

Jane: Then I guess it's up to us. (She reaches into the back seat and grabs a copy of the script.) Looks like we're going to have to find someone to replace the sheriff character at least. You can split her assistant's part between the 3 J's. They'll be happy for the extra work.

Daria: Who are you going to get to replace the sheriff?

Jane: I don't have a clue. (Beat. She continues while thinking.) Who can we get to replace her? We need someone who can play a cynical character, has red hair, glasses, no tits...

Daria: Hey!

Jane: ...and can learn the script real fast. (Beat.) You know if his ex, Angela, was still around, we could get her to do it. (Thinking.) What are we going to do?

Daria: How do you know about his ex?

Jane: (She shrugs.) He still keeps a picture of her on the desk in his office. (She leans back against the seat thinking.) Someone who can play a cynic...

Daria: ...has red hair and glasses...

Jane: ...no tits...

Daria: Why do you like bringing that up? Is there something you need to tell me, Lane?

Jane: (A slight smirk.) ...and knows the script.

Daria: (Shrugging.) Well, I can't think of anyone.

Jane: (Smirking and turning to Daria.) I can.

Daria: (Turning to look at Jane, it sinks in after a few moments. Down go the eyebrows.) No, Lane. I'm not playing both parts. Think how hard the fight scenes would be and we would still need a stand in which we don't have.

Jane: So, what are we going to do while we wait for Prince Charming to wake up? We could practice the script some again.

Daria: Practice the script again? Can I just give up a leg instead? It would be a lot less painful.

Jane: (Nodding in agreement.) I think I could read off the entire 300 page script from memory. (Beat.) You think he's noticed yet how we rewrote the script?

Daria: (Minor disbief.) Are our changes still in there?

Jane: (She shrugs.) I haven't removed them. (She starts to skim the script again.) They're still in here. He hasn't mentioned them either so I doubt he's seen them. (Beat.) I wonder if Dr. Mike's even read the script recently.

Daria: Come on. Even Dr. Mike's not that thick. He would have had to notice all the changes we made.

(They look at one another as we fade out into a flashback. We fade into Daria and Jane in Daria's room. Daria is sitting at the computer while Jane is digging thru her backpack looking for something.)

Daria: But when do you actually listen to anything Roger E. Moore says?

Jane: (Still digging.) I didn't listen. He made an interesting post to one of the Daria fan message boards. He wanted people to come up with the worst, dumbest, lamest scenes you could think of. And you know Dr. Mike's works are just chuck full of the worst... Ahh, found it. (Jane finds what she's looking for and pulls out a CD case from her backpack. She reads from the label on top.) Cynic Hood, the DVD version. Final edition. Version 3.1. Copyright 2000, 2004. All rights reserved. Void where prohibited or taxed by law. God save the queen. Do not remove under penalty of law. Void thirty days after date on check. Buy bonds. Do not include a self addressed stamped envelope for those residing in Vermont or Wyoming. Get your pets spayed or neutered. Objects in the mirror maybe closer...

Daria: (Interupting.) Um, Jane. Where did you find that?

Jane: I found it in Dr. Mike's back seat when I was trying to convince him to rewrite that scene.

Daria: Back seat, huh? What were you doing in the back seat?

Jane: I hate you. (She passes the CD over to Daria.)

Daria: (Looking at it.) So, what did you have in mind?

Jane: We could go thru and make a few corrections. (Beat.) We could also have some fun. (Beat. Daria looks up at her.) What?

Daria: Can't have fun. That would require facial expressions.

Jane: (Starts counting off on the fingers of her hand.) Daria, he made me do a morning scene with a cat. (Another finger goes up.) Drink lots of coffee. (Another finger.) Eat Snake. (Another finger.) And stale doughnuts. (The thumb.) Sing with muppets. (Next hand with a finger goes up.) Pick up other characters. (She shows Daria her fully extended hands.) Strained my back out for a week. Even Crazy Nutso with his dog suit wasn't that bad. I was still waiting to see what else he wanted me to do with it. (She shutters with the memory.)

Daria: Where ever you're getting your coffee in the mornings, you need to lay off. They're putting something in there. (Beat.) So what you're saying is that you want...

Jane: A little revenge?

Daria: (She looks at Jane with a raised eyebrow.) A little revenge?

Jane: (Smirking.) A little revenge.

Daria: (She thinks for a second.) But won't he catch on?

Jane: (Pulling over a second chair so they can share the computer.) We'll just have a little fun with him. It's not like we're really going to trash the script. Well, not anymore than it is now. Once he figures out something's different, we just bring out the real scripts.

Daria: But what happens if he doesn't get a clue?

Jane: (Taking the CD from Daria, Jane inserts it into the computer and starts bringing up the files.) Come on, Daria. Even Dr. Mike's not that thick.

(For the next few scenes, we will come back to Daria and Jane at different times as they pour over the script. The script I worked my fingers to the bone so that you wonderful readers could enjoy. Oh, the horror. Entrust the work that I sweated blood and tears on to these two innocent girls and there they sit going over line by line...)

(First visit back. They still sit together in front of the computer.)

Daria: Didn't you once say puppets made anything funny?

Jane: Wow, someone actually remembered something from one of the first season shows.

Daria: First season? I thought it was from the third season.

Jane: After five years, they all run together.

Daria: (Busy typing.) Puppets, hmmm. Maybe if we changed this scene...

Jane: I don't think that that's how you spell puppet, Daria.

Daria: (She pauses to reread what she's typed. She smirks.) Even better.

Jane: You're a sick, sick woman, Morgendorffer.

(Next trip back. Daria's typing at the computer while Jane sits on the floor rolling a ball back and forth.)

Daria: (She pauses as an idea comes to her.) How about some time travel?

Jane: Even we're not that bad.

Daria: (Resuming her typing.) Ok. No time travel. Got it. (Beat.) Pity though. We could go back three years, give him the finished script and skipped all the rest.

(We return again. Jane stands behind Daria munching an apple.)

Jane: (She takes a peek over Daria's shoulder.) Naked Gun movie material?

Daria: Yes, it is. (She turns to look at Jane.) You've not going to let me live that down, are you? I was sick that weekend.

Jane: With this crew, I doubt it.

Daria: (She turns back and begins to type.) I think I can work something in. It's under his name anyway. Not mine.

(I can't watch anymore....)

Daria: You know for a Robin Hood rip off, there aren't that many Robin Hood references in there.

Jane: Where are the hippos? We need more hippos, damn it.

Daria: (Typing away.) More hippos...

Jane: Hippos make anything funny.

Daria: (She sighes.) Trust the wonderful world of Disney to muck up classic, historical literature for the masses.

(Speaking of revenge...)

Daria: (Smirking.) We've got to include Jane's dog suit.

Jane: I hate you.

Daria: One dog suit...

Jane: I really hate you, Morgendorffer.

Daria: (She smirks again.) ...for Quinn.

Jane: (Thinking about it.) That'll work.

(Jane's now typing while Daria looks on.)

Daria: Singing?

Jane: Yes, it is. (Beat.) Ok, so you're not the only one to ever watch the Naked Gun movies. And what's wrong with a little singing?

Daria: With your voice? About ten to twenty.

Jane: Hey, I can sing. I did fine in "Daria, the Musical."

Daria: I've always wondered about that. Plus Dr. Mike never writes songs for his works. That'll be what makes him realize that we pulled something on him.

Jane: Didn't you say you wanted to sing the "Lumberjack Song" at least once?

Daria: It's up there with my pink taffeta dream.

Jane: (Typing away.) "Lumberjack Song." I think we can work that in somewhere.

Daria: (Leaning in.) Um, Jane. You need to work on your typing.

Jane: I'm just changing it slightly. Wouldn't want to get Dr. Mike in any legal trouble.

(They look at one another and scoff.)

(Daria's back at the keyboard while Jane's flipping thru the television stations.)

Daria: What else?

Jane: Think we can ditch the sex scene? (Beat.) Please?

Daria: You've been going on and on about that one scene. What's wrong with it? (Beat and then with a slight smirk.) A little nervous?

Jane: You haven't seen it yet, have you?

Jane smirks, picks up a script, finds a section, and hands it to her. Daria scans the page, her jaw drops and her eyes go wide.

Daria: I thought we finally got past that. (She flips a page and continues to read, a disguested look now no her face.) Argh, this would even make Nemo Blank drool. (She turns to the computer but we hear a beep and see a 'File Transmitted' message on the screen.) Damn, it's already gone to the printers. Well, maybe we can talk him into changing it on the set.

With a final click of the mouse, the printer starts shooting out pages. Daria takes the top page off of the pile on the printer. The camera pulls in to show:

theApparatus.daria

In association with

The Dovet Memorial Fund

and

Dr. Mike Productions

Very proudly presents:

Cynic Hood

(I swear it's the final version this time)
(Really, I do.)

- or -

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Green.

Written and Directed by:

Dr. Michael Wendell, D.Su.

The script's cover fades into a webpage viewed on a computer monitor. The camera pulls back a bit and begins to pan around to the right across the room. We see a live version of Daria's room. As the camera passes over the worn padding on the walls, we hear the occasional clicking of a computer mouse. The camera passes over the heart model, cheese wedge, the poster of the skeleton, and the other stuff along the floor that gives Daria's room that unique, um, charm. It finally stops to show a real life Jane reclining on Daria's bed reading a book. She's dressed in an oversized black sweat suit with white block writing on one leg and a picture on the shirt front. The camera pulls back to also show a real life Daria sitting at the computer surfing the web. She clicks on a new page, reads something on the screen, and makes a face.

Daria: Number 1 in the hood, G? Crazy isn't a good enough adjective for him.

Daria smirks and returns to reading different webpages, clicking every few moments. She arrives at one site, reads something off the screen to herself, makes a face and starts banging her head on the screen.

Daria: Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Jane: (Not looking up.) Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as you're making it sound.

Daria: This coming from a woman dressed in clothing with cartoon characters on them.

Jane: What? I like this stuff. It's comfortable.

Daria: Lane, you're a walking billboard.

The real Jane stands up to show us that she's wearing a black sweatshirt with a big picture of the cartoon Jane's face on it and a black pair of sweatpants with the word 'Lane' written down one leg.

Jane: It's comfortable. If I have to waste more than eight hours a day in that hell we call high school, I want to be comfortable.

Daria: But you wear that stuff all the time like you're a character from a cartoon done with a low budget on some back water, basic cable channel.

Jane: I do not.

Daria: Jane, what were you wearing yesterday?

Jane: A black sweat suit set.

Daria: And the day before that?

Jane: Um, a black sweat suit set. But it was different.

Daria: They looked the same to me. And the day before that?

Jane: (With a smirk.) Pink taffeta? Oh wait. That was in the dream I had that night.

Daria: Jane...

Jane: OK, I just have a couple sets of them.

Daria: How many, Lane?

Jane: (Looking away.) Just a couple.

Daria: Do we need to run over to the Lane mansion, open up your closet, and expose any and all dark secrets to the world?

Jane: Um, I think a dozen sets.

Daria: A dozen?

Jane: (Crossing her arms and defending herself.) Strange. This coming from a woman who owns a half a dozen green jackets.

Daria: At least I don't wear them every day.

Jane: You don't? (She sits back down on the bed and returns to her reading.) Seems like it to me.

Jane continues to read while Daria returns to her web surfing. After a minute, Jane lifts her head up.

Jane: What were you banging your head about anyway?

Daria: I'm just looking at one of these damn Daria fan sites...

Jane: (Interrupting.) How come there aren't any Jane fan sites on the net? (She pounds a fist into the bed.) Damn it! We need more Jane fan sites out there.

Daria: (Reinterrupting.) ...and I came across an announcement on Doctor Mike's site, The Daria Jane Conspiracy.

Jane: But I like Doctor Mike's work. He lets me have fun. (Beat.) Well, my character gets to have fun. I could never understand why you have such a problem with Daria fans.

Daria: How would you like it to have your entire life plastered all over television for everyone to see? (They pause to look at one another, down at Jane's clothing, and then back at one another.) Oh wait. I forgot. You like it.

Jane: It's fun to have an imaginary life and to have so many people involved and interested with it. Ever since we caught those two Hollywood types climbing thru your window, life's gotten interesting.

Daria: (She sighs and returns to her screen.) He's rewriting Cynic Hood.

Jane: (Thinks for a minute.) That one he never finished? Daria and the rest of the cast relive the Robin Hood story line, they have to organize the women of the forest to stop Ms. Li. and that Lynn character gets painted green?

Daria: That's right. He says he's going to finish it...

Jane: I liked reading that one.

Daria: ...throw in a couple of other fanfic authors who wanted parts...

Jane: Biggest thing he had every written.

Daria: ...and add a few scenes...

Jane: Be nice to read the finished product. (Beat.) As if he would actually finish a work.

Daria: (Leaning into the screen to read a specific section.) ...including a descriptive sex scene involving Jane.

Jane: Excuse me?

Daria: ...a descriptive sex scene involving Jane. That's what it says.

Jane: I don't know how to feel about that.

Daria: (Smirking.) What's the matter, Lane. Don't want your imaginary equal getting more action then yourself?

Jane sits there for a moment thinking about what this would mean to her.

Jane: We can't have that.

Daria: I'm so glad you agree, Lane. So what are we going to do about it?

Jane: Well, we need to put a stop to this. Is there anything your mom can do about it?

Daria: Doubt it. All she sees are the royalty checks we're receiving.

Jane: Then I guess it's up to us.

The two girls look at one another for a few moments.

Daria and Jane: (Together.) Road Trip.

We begin listening to some upbeat music piece that suggests road trip music as the scene changes to outside of the Morgendorffer home. Jane is shoving a suitcase into the nearly filled trunk of the Lexus that's parked in the driveway. She's dressed in clothes that we're used to seeing on her from the television show. She turns to watch Daria steps out of the house with her own two suitcases. Daria instead is dressed in a hooded gray sweatshirt, black pants and her normal boots.

Jane: So how did you get the Lexus away from the parental units?

Daria: (Shoving her bags into the backseat.) I told them we wanted some time to go off and look at colleges. They jumped at the chance as Quinn also wanted to go away for the weekend to some fasion extravagance a couple of states over. (She slams the rear door shut and they both climb into the front. Daria starts the engine and they begin to pull out.) Dad thinks his car will show the schools how successful the family is. Of course it will also show how much money the family has and will ruin any chance of scholarship money but I didn't want to point it out to them. If we're going to drive halfway accross country, we should be comfortable. How did you get away from your parent, Jane?

Jane: What parents? Dad's off on some photo expedition to the South American jungle, Mom's somewhere out west looking at Indian ruins and who knows where Trent and the band are. (Beat.) Hopefully no one will need bail money wired to them in a hurry.

Daria: South American jungle? That sounds familiar.

The camera pulls back as we watch Daria drives the Lexus out of the neighborhood.

Jane: (We can hear the smirk in her voice.) Are we there yet?

Daria: Don't start, Lane, or you'll be walking the entire trip.

We start with a black screen. The number '1192' appears along the bottom of the screen as very loud religious chanting in a Middle Eastern language is heard, filling the speakers. A view of a Middle Eastern city from over a hundred feet in the air fades into view as the chanting grows in strength. We begin to slowly slide forward through the air finally coming to rest about twenty feet away from a tall prayer tower. A Jewish monk stands facing towards the east on the narrow walkway that surrounds the tower. He bellows the morning prayers over the city.

Int. View: A dark, damp stone stairwell lit only by a single torch, a heavy wooden door stands at the top. Sand covers every flat surface accumulating in the corners. A small rodent hurries across a stair stopping to sniff at a possible tidbit. Over the sound of the chanting, the tinkle of keys is heard, as the heavy door is unlocked and slammed open. A large brute of a man descends the staircase kicking the door shut with his foot. He drags along a prisoner dressed in a simple sack as a tunic with another covering the head. The brute yanks on the chains that bind the prisoner's hands together as he drags the prisoner through the endless passageways past more torches and locked doors. The hands of a few unseen prisoners jut out here and there. One of those hands snags the brute as he walks by, catching him off guard. He spins around, almost tripping to the ground. He regains his balance, turns, throws out the length of his whip and lashes out in a strike against that hand. We hear a loud scream as the brute recovers his whip and continues along the passageway dragging the prisoner along. By now we notice that the prisoner is nearly unable to stand and the brute is dragging him or her along. They continue on until reaching a large, iron barred, wooden door at the end of the passageway. The brute reaches out with and raps hard against the door using the end of the leather whip. He pauses for a moment. Receiveing no response, he bangs against the door harder.

Voice 1: (Through the door.) Heh heh.

Voice 2: (Also through the door.) Shut up, Butt Munch.

The Brute: (Yelling through the door.) Open this door.

Voice 1: Heh heh.

Voice 2: Um, we're not home right now. So, um, go away.

The Brute: (Annoyed now, he pounds on the door shaking it.) Open this door, you sons of camel dung! I know you're in there.

Voice 1: Heh heh. He said dung. Heh heh.

Voice 2: Heh heh. What's the password?

The Brute: We don't have any password. Now open up!

Voice 1: Heh heh.

Voice 2: Heh heh. Pull my finger and I'll open up.

Voice 1: (Getting excited.) Heh heh. Pull! Pull! Pull!

The Brute pounds on the door again and it finally opens. He looks annoyed as he drags the prisoner through the door.

Int. View: A small dungeon room. Prisoners dressed in filthy sackcloth line the edge of the room, sitting on rough stone benches or on the sandy, hard floor. They are linked by chains, which are attached to a large ring set into the wall. One jailer, wearing a leather tunic with the word 'Metallurgical' written across it, stands in the middle of the room, a bullwhip in his hand. The other jailer, also wearing a leather tunic but with the words 'Camel Power' across its front, shuts the door and moves to stand by his partner. The Brute drags the new prisoner into the room and stops.

The Brute: I have another one of those English swine for you to play with. (He smiles showing his missing teeth as he yanks at the prisoner's chains.) This one's a sow. Maybe you can milk her like the swine that she is.

Jailer 1: (Formally Voice 1.) Heh heh. We're going score!

Jailer 2: (Formally Voice 2. He leans over and whacks the first jailer.) Shut up Butt Munch. You don't know how to score.

The Brute: (He shoves the prisoner into the hands of the two jailers.) Just keep her alive so we can cut off her head later. (He reaches across to the prisoner to pull the hood off.) That's what we do to English scum like you.

The hood is jerked off and we see a full head of messy black hair with some glasses sticking out. After a second, he nearly tumbles to the ground. The sudden movement moves the hair away from the prisoner's face and we now see a very dirty and still very unconscious Dr. Mike. He slowly comes around and begins to look around the set.

Dr. Mike: Where am I? (He lifts a hand to his head.) And why does my head hurt so much?

The Brute: You're a English pig dog and will soon die at the hand of our glorious leader!

Dr. Mike: (Looking around real quick.) I must be dreaming my own work. Nothing to do but go with the flow. But it's been so long since I read Cynic Hood, I don't know if I can remember all of it. (He turns to the brute. In a very fake English accent dripping with sarcasm.) Um, Thank you for your wonderful hospitality. I hope to see you again. (Beat.) At the end of my sword as I impale you on it. (Beat.) Or something like that.

The Brute backhands Dr. Mike hard across the face. He would fall to the ground if not for the chains around his hands, which are still held by Jailer 2.

Dr. Mike: (Rubbing his cheek with a hand.) Damn, that hurt. I thought you couldn't get really hurt in a dream...

Jailer 2: (Impressed.) Whoa.

Jailer 1: (Getting excited.) Hit her again! Hit her again!

Dr. Mike: Hey, can we watch the pronouns, please?

The Brute: (Looking down at Dr Mike who is glaring back, the mark of his hand on his cheek.) Just take care of him. (He spits on the ground near Dr. Mike as he leaves the room.)

Dr. Mike: (Under his breath and still rubbing his cheek.) See if you ever work in this fantasy world again.

Jailer 1: (Getting ready to drop his tunic.) I'm going to score! I'm going to score! (He pauses as he gets a good look at Dr. Mike.) Wait a minute. Where's Diarrhea?

Jailer 2: Heh heh. Diarrhea.

Jailer 2: Heh heh. You said Diarrhea. Heh heh. I said Diarrhea.

Jailers 1 and 2: (Together as a chant.) Diarrhea, cha-cha-cha. Diarrhea, cha-cha-cha. Diarrhea, cha-cha-cha. Diarrhea, cha-cha-cha. Heh heh. Heh heh. Heh heh.

Jailer 2: Wait, Butt Munch. He doesn't have any thingies.

Dr. Mike: I should hope not. (Spitting out some blood and standing back upright.) You won't have any thingies either if you try anything.

Jailer 1: I want thingies!

Jailer 2: Ummm, maybe we should lock him up or something.

Jailer 1: (Still excited.) I'll get the chains! (He starts to go off.)

Jailer 2: Um, Butt Munch, she's, um he's already chained up. Let's put her, um, him, next to that, um, Scarlet chick. She doesn't have any thingies either. (Beat.) Damn, this acting's hard. Heh heh.

Jailer 1: Heh heh.

Jailer 2: Heh heh. Hard. You said hard. Heh heh.

Jailer 1: Heh heh.

They drag Dr. Mike across the dungeon to a waiting bench next to the wall. A young, dark-haired woman also dressed in dirty sackcloth sits on one end of the bench while a pile of something red and hairy sits at the other end. Both prisoners keep their heads down, their hair covering their faces. The jailers attach Dr. Mike's chains to the wall over the center of the bench and walk off. We can hear them in the background.

Dr. Mike: (Looking around at the grime as he uses the back of his hand to wipe off the blood on his chin.) Honey, I'm home. (He yanks hard at the chains.)

A head comes out of the pile of red hair. The creature's eyes go wide as we see it's Animal from the Muppets.

Animal: Home! An-i-mal home! Aah!

Dr. Mike: Um, yes. Animal home. Very good.

The Female: (Still with her head down. She speaks with another bad English accent but better than Daria's.) It is of no use. These chains are but solid links and unbreakable.

Dr. Mike: (Turning to look at the other companion.) Is it not the duty of all prisoners to escape from their jail?

The Female: I have tried since I have been thrown in here. It is of no use.

Dr. Mike: Well, we shouldn't give up.

Dr. Mike goes back to pulling at his chains and looking around for an escape. His eyes fall again on the female and he sits there thinking for a minute.

Dr. Mike: You could help.

Animal: Animal help. Animal big help. (He bits the chain and begins an attempt to snap it with his mouth.)

Dr. Mike: Um, I think, Animal, you've done enough. (He turns to face the other prisoner.) You could help as well.

The Other Female: (Shrugs.) I could...

Dr. Mike: I heard the jailer call you by the name of Scarlet. Is that your name or do you have the fever?

The Other Female: No, it 'tis my name, Scarlet. (She finally lifts her head so that we can see it is a very dirty Jane. She brushes the hair out of her eyes.) Jane Scarlet. I am but the world's best minstrel.

Dr. Mike: Yea, right. World's best minstrel? Next you'll be telling people...

Jane: (Gives him a look.) Let's just keep on with the script. Remember. You're not paying us for adlibs anymore.

Dr. Mike: What brings you here to this dark dungeon?

Jane: (Stretching a bit.) Oh, it was just a small misunderstanding.

Dr. Mike: You pissed someone off with your singing, didn't you?

Jane: (Shrugs.) How would I know they would be offended by Christmas carols? (She looks over to Daria.) So?

Dr. Mike: Um, Dr. Mike. Dr. Mike of, um, Lawndale. (Beat.) I guess that'll work.

Jane: What brings you to the armpit of the universe?

Dr. Mike: (Shrug.) I'm on a vacation?

Jane: That's a new one to me. Usually it's a quest or something. Always something heroic. (She looks at Dr. Mike closely.) Are you sure you're not on a quest?

Dr. Mike: What for?

Jane: The normal stuff. A grail or two, some shroud, maybe tickets to a George Burns show?

Dr. Mike: Beats me. My king showed up on my front doorstep a few months ago, mentioned something about me needing a vacation, sticks me on a leaky boat, my horse gets sick, they lose my luggage, I get into a huge fight at the docks with customs, and here I am in some dungeon in the middle of nowhere. Next time, I'm going to Rome for my vacation.

Jane: I hear Rome's nice this time of year.

Dr. Mike: Is it?

Jane: (She nods.) In the fall, they start running out of prisoners and slaves to throw to the lions so they pull foreigners off of the street and start chucking them in. (Beat.) Great for the locals but hell for the tourist industry.

Dr. Mike: So, how are we going to get out of here?

Jane: (Looking around.) Not a clue.

Dr. Mike: (Looking around also.) Been here long?

Jane: Long time. Ages and ages. I've tried escaping a couple of times but no luck. (Dr. Mike sits there looking at her again.) OK, just a couple of days. Seems longer though. Seems like I've been doing this one scene for three years now.

Dr. Mike: (Turning to look at the two jailers.) They look kind of stupid.

Jane: (Also looking in that direction.) Very. (Beat.) Must be government employees.

Dr. Mike: (Taking a closer look.) They look kind of familiar...

Jane: (Thinking.) If we could just get them to unchain us...

Dr. Mike and Jane look at each other and smirks appear on their faces.

Jane: (Calling him over.) Hey, Butt Munch!

Both jailers walk over.

Jailer 1: Heh heh.

Jailer 2: Um, we're like armed so don't like try anything.

Jailer 1: Heh heh.

Jailer 2: Um, like what do you want?

Jane: Oh, we're just bored.

Jailer 1: Heh heh.

Jailer 2: You won't be bored when they chop off your heads.

Jailer 1: (Beginning to get into Cornholio mode.) Heh heh. CHOP! CHOP! CHOP!

Jailer 2: (Whacks him another one.) Settle down, Butt Munch.

Jane: (Sounding suggestive.) Oh, I don't know. I know we have a few days left until our necks stretch and I'm young. (She takes a bare foot and starts rubbing it up against Jailer 1's leg.) Think of all the things that we haven't done yet. (Looks over to Dr. Mike and winks.) Right, Dr. Mike?

Dr. Mike: (Looks very uncomfortable.) Um, right. (He sticks his foot out and starts trying to run it up Jailer 2's leg but doesn't have the hang of it. His foot falls.) I think we can skip this part.

Jailer 1: (He's gone.) We're gonna score!

Jane: (After a quick look at Dr. Mike.) We think we would like to give you two a nice, big...

Both of Jane legs come up hard on the jailer's crotches.

Dr. Mike: (With a pained look.) Ow, that's gotta hurt.

The two jailers go down on the ground, holding their privates, moaning. Jane bends over the prone figures, yanks out the keys, and quickly unlocks their shackles. She throws the keys over to another prisoner as Dr. Mike retrieves the scimitars from the two jailers. Dr. Mike and Jane look on as the two jailers are dragged away by their former captives.

Jailer 1: (Off screen.) Wait! Wait! I need those!

Jane: (Looking off screen with a smirk.) Not any more you don't.

Dr. Mike: Um, so how do we get out of here? I forgot this part of the script.

Jane: (Begins to wave her hands around.) I've got this big plan. We'll all get weapons, storm the front gate...

Dr. Mike: (Pointing to a grate set in the wall.) You know I think I remember something about this grate allowing us to escape this prison.

Jane: Well, that will work also. (Beat.) You're no fun.

Jailer 1: (Off screen.) Don't touch my wiener!

Dr. Mike: (Thinking.) It would be better than a direct escape out the front door.

Jane: (She yanks hard at the grate but it does not budge.) See anything to knock it open with?

Dr. Mike: (Looking around. He picks up a large hammer and hands it to Jane.) Will this do?

Jane: Yup. It's a thousand miles to England. We've got a pair of scimitars, wearing sackcloth, it's dark and we have no shoes.

Dr. Mike: Hit it.

Jane starts pounding the grate with the hammer.

Ext. View: A dark alley with a few lights coming from windows high up on the walls. We can hear the sounds of guards in the background. Jane and Dr. Mike run down the alley banishing swords, both bloodied. Jane is holding her side where blood seeps around her hand. She stops and leans up against the wall, out of breath. Dr. Mike runs by but stops a bit further down. He looks back at Jane, turns to scan the area for any threats and quickly returns to her side.

Dr. Mike: We mustn't stop. They will be on us shortly.

Jane: (Still breathing hard but not enough to ham it up a bit.) Go on. (Pant.) I'm wounded. (Pant.) I'll (Pant.) I'll hold them off.

Dr. Mike takes a long look at Jane who lifts her sword in an offensive position and smiles but grimaces as the pain shoots through her body. She nearly falls but the wall supports her. Dr. Mike shrugs, lifts his sword, and begins to walk off.

Jane: Excuse me? Where do you think you're going?

Dr. Mike: But you said...

Jane: You suppose to act heroic and drag me with you to the harbour.

Dr. Mike: (He shrugs, puts his arm around Jane and lifts her upright.) Well, I guess I'm not leaving you. (Beat.) So now I have a minstrel as a friend. It could be worse. I could have a crush on one that sleeps all day long. (He pauses thinking about what he just said.) We're going to have to work around that. (Beat.) Where do you play?

Jane: I've been around. I have traveled the length and breath of Europe playing for many.

Dr. Mike: You any good?

Jane: (Smirking.) Wouldn't you like to know. (Back to her lines now. Enough flirting.) They sit there and grind their teeth at me. (Dr. Mike looks at her.) In some places, that's a complement.

Dr. Mike: If you say so...

Jane: Like when they throw fresh fruit at me. (Beat.) Well, it's usually fresh.

They stumble off together. The camera lowers to the ground where a trail of blood mixes in with their footprints in the dirt.

Ext. View: The docks of the city. Daria and Jane stumble into view looking at the names on the ships. Daria is still supporting Jane, but they both have their scimitars out ready for action.

Dr. Mike: Damn, I don't recognize the names of any of these ships.

Jane: (Breathing very hard.) I know of one where we can find safety. The Esteemer. Captain O'Neill will hide us.

Dr. Mike: The Esteemer? It doesn't sound like a ship I want to caught on.

Jane: Would you rather go back and tell that to the guards? (Dr. Mike just looks at her and they stumble on.) Um, thanks for saving my life back there.

Dr. Mike: Not a problem.

Jane: (She starts speaking more slowly and holds a hand to her chest.) No, I'm serious. I owe you my life. (She drops her sword and faints dead away over doing it of course. Dr. Mike catches her and stands there with his arms wrapped around Jane. He takes a look down at her, a look at the camera with an eyebrow raised, a quick look around, gets a better grip of his new friend, and then continues to look for the Esteemer.) Move your hands, Dr. Mike.

Dr. Mike: Um...

Jane: I said move them. (Dr. Mike pulls one hand away so he's only supporting Jane with one hand.) Now, the other one.

Dr. Mike: But if I take my hand...

Jane: I said move the hand.

Dr. Mike: But if it's a dream...

Jane: Not even in a dream am I going to let you put your hand where it is now, Dr. Mike. Move. Your. Hand.

Dr. Mike looks up at the sky, shrugs, and lets go of the other hand. Needless to say, Jane falls flat on her face while Dr. Mike walks off the set. Jane stands up, blows some hair out of her face, and readjusts her clothing while throwing an angry glare off stage. She follows after a moment.

Ext. View: An overhead shot with a longboat under sail somewhere in the ocean. The camera passes over the ship and we hear some tortured sounds coming from a mandolin.

Jane: (Singing.) "I'm leaving on a long boat."

The tortured crew of the ship: SHUT UP!

Jane: Are we there yet?

We change scenes to show the deck of the sailing ship near the stern. Dr. Mike is bent over the rail, um, doing his impression of Upchuck if you know what I mean. Jane stands near him. She looks at the camera, looks at Dr. Mike's back, back and forth a couple more times and then turns back to the camera. She lifts an eyebrow up, smirks and makes a motion to shove Dr. Mike overboard. Luckily for me, Captain O'Neill comes up to prevent the action. Jane shrugs, smiles and leans up against the rail watching, um, what comes up next. O'Neill leaves. Dr. Mike turns back away from the sea.

Jane: Feeling any better?

Dr. Mike: Well, I can give up no more to the sea. I hate boating. (He spits over the side in an attempt to rid himself of the taste in his mouth. He starts to turn back to Jane but pauses. He runs a hand over the rail.) You know. I don't remember anything about my characters being out at sea.

Jane: (Butt covering.) Sure you did. You wanted to explore more of the relationship between your two, main characters.

Dr. Mike: (Looking up at the mast and holding his stomache at the same time.) I still don't remember adding this part though. Of course I can bearly remember any of the script.

Jane: (Looking away.) Really? We hadn't noticed.

Dr. Mike: O'Neill's still the captain, right?

Jane: Yes, but he has a first officer now as well.

Dr. Mike: A first officer?

A door to below slams open to show First Officer Gonzo decked out in a first officer uniform that can only be described as overkill. He struts over to our twosome, ducking once when a mast swinging through the scene attempts to knock his lace captain's hat off.

Gonzo: Ahoy my honored guests. It is I, First Officer Gonzo, ready to protect you from any swash buckling typhoons or hard blowing pirates.

Dr. Mike: That doesn't sound right.

Jane: (Snicker.) Sounds pretty good to me.

Gonzo: Rest assured that...

A gypsy dressed female chicken slides into view. She's not too happy as she glares at Jane.

Camilla: Cluck-cluck?

Gonzo: (Defending himself.) Camilla, my desert beauty. I was just introducing myself to...

Camilla: (She's pissed. Feathers fly up.) Cluck-cluck! Cluck! Cluck-cluck!

Jane: (She sighes.) Oh, young love. Ain't it sweet? (Camilla turns and takes a few sharp pecks at Jane. I guess Jane's reputation has proceded her.) Hey, watch where you peck with that thing! I know how to make chicken pot pie!

Gonzo: (Trying to get between them.) Camilla, my sweet. You know I only have eyes for you.

Halfway through a peck, Camilla turns sharply at Gonzo's words, gazes longingly into his eyes and throws her body up against him in a passionate embrace.

Camilla: (Lovingly.) Cluck-cluck.

Camilla: (Lovingly again.) Cluck.

Jane: (Smirking. To Dr. Mike.) They say that the love that a man has with his chicken is...

Dr. Mike: (Interrupting.) I have no idea what is going on. (Beat.) And I don't think I want to know.

O'Neill: (Coming back on deck.) First Officer Gonzo. It's time to lead the men in a song! Gather the troops. We must keep their spirits up on this long voyage.

Gonzo: (He salutes.) Right away, Captain O'Neill. (He drops and salue, turns and bellows.) Men!

(A large number of pirate dressed male pigs, penguins and chickens slide into the shot from both sides of the screen. We shoot off with a rousing musical number while Captain O'Neill, Jane and Dr. Mike stand in the backgound. Gonzo sings lead. During the number, the penguins are seen jumping off the plank into the sea below.)

Where can you find pleasure,
search the world for treasure,
learn science and technology?

Where can you begin to make your dreams all come true on the land or on the sea?
Where can you learn to fly, play in sports or skindive, study oceanography?
Sign up for the big band or sit in the grand stand when your team and others meet.

In the Navy, yes, you can sail the seven seas.
In the Navy, yes, you can put your mind at ease.
In the Navy, come on now people, make a stand.
In the Navy, can't you see we need a hand.
In the Navy, come on, protect the motherland.
In the Navy, come on and join your fellow, man.
In the Navy, come on, people, and make a stand.

In the Navy, in the Navy.
They want you! They want you!
They want you as a new recruit!

We repeat the chorus a couple of times in the background while we pan up along the mast until reaching the crow's nest. Statler and Waldorf, the two old guys from the Muppet show sit and, um, admire the number.

Statler: I thought you got us third class tickets.

Waldorf: I did.

Statler: Then what passage are they travelling?

Waldorf: No class!

Both men quack up laughing as the camera pulls down back to the deck as the musical number continues.

If you like adventure don't you wait to enter the recruiting office fast.
Don't you hesitate, there is no need to wait; they're signing up new seamen fast.
Maybe you are too young to join up today but don't you worry 'bout the thing for I'm sure there will be always the good Navy protecting the land and sea.

In the Navy...
They want you! They want you!
They want you as a new recruit!
They want you! They want you!
They want you as a new recruit!

The number ends, the singers take a few bows as they return to work, and the camera pulls in on Jane and Dr. Mike. Jane stands there thinking.

Jane: I just have one question though.

Dr. Mike: (A bit lost.) What's that?

Jane: (Thoughtful.) So, how do you have sex with a chicken?

Huh? What? Sorry, no notes. Remember, this is all a dream...