Episode # 1
Dead Batteries
(Pilot Episode)
By Steve Cross
FADE IN
(INTERIOR. DAYTIME. THE BLUM-DENKLER FAMILY’S GARAGE. The garage door is open, showing the morning sun. TIFFANY, STACY, QUINN, SANDI, and TIFFANY’S MOTHER, FRAN BLUM-DENKLER are standing next to the family station wagon. Tiffany is wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt with an American Flag on the front and the words “United We Stand.” Fran is a Caucasian woman half a head taller than Tiffany, with curly brown hair cut rather short. She is somewhat plump around the hips. Sandi and Quin are dressed in familiar "canonical" fashion, but Stacy's hair is up in a scrunchie.)
FRAN: Does everybody have a valid driver’s license?
(Tiffany, Stacy, Sandi, and Quinn add ad-lib something in the affirmative.)
FRAN: Good. Now, Tiffany, I’m lending you the family’s biggest car for the day, so you kids can go to the outlet mall over in Wappington. Your father and I have decided you’re mature enough to handle this responsibility. It takes about 2 hours to drive there and 2 hours to get back. I want you girls and the car back here by six o’clock on the dot. Is that clear?
TIFFANY: Yes, Mommy. (Sandi snickers.)
SANDI (whispers, to Stacy): Mommy?
(Cut to: INTERIOR. THE INSIDE OF TIFFANY’S HANDBAG. The display screen on her cell phone is blinking “BATTERY LOW.”)
(Cut to: INTERIOR. DAYTIME. THE GARAGE.)
FRAN: You have your cell so you can call us if anything goes wrong. (She hands the car keys to Tiffany) Here are the keys. (smiles) Have a nice time, girls. (She kisses Tiffany.)
TIFFANY: Thanks, Mommy. See you at six.
The girls get in the car, with Tiffany at the wheel. Stacy sits beside her. Quinn and Sandi sit in the back. Tiffany starts the car and backs down the driveway.
(FOCUS ON the girls in the car.)
SANDI: Gee, Tiffany, your “mommy” sure does have a lot of rules.
TIFFANY: Yeah, that’s why I’m glad she works, like, 70 hours a week. She’s an interior decorator.
(EXTERIOR. DAYTIME. THE HIGHWAY, WITH THE BLUM-DENKLER STATION WAGON VISIBLE IN THE TRAFFIC. Foliage on the trees indicates autumn.)
(FOCUS ON girls in the car.)
QUINN: This is the life, isn’t it girls? The open road in front of us, credit cards paid by our dads in our purses, and ahead of us, the Outlet Mall!
TIFFANY (still driving): Yeah, it doesn’t get any better than this. Too bad we can't, like, flunk our senior year three or four times.
SANDI: This is a lot better than trusting our parents to pick out our spring outfits for us and then get an ugly surprise at Christmas.
TIFFANY: Or Hannukkah.
SANDI (to herself): Christmas 2000. The horror, oh, the horror.
(INTERIOR. DAY. INSIDE THE OUTLET MALL. The four girls, laden with packages, walk past a table where two short-haired middle-aged women, CASSANDRA and BETTY, are seated. Betty is drawn to be somewhat older than Cassandra. There is a stack of brochures on the table. The sign in front reads, “AFGHANISTAN SCHOOL PROJECT.” Quinn stops a few feet from the table and looks back, interested.)
BETTY(to Quinn): Would you be interested in helping us start a school for girls in Afghanistan?
SANDI: Quinn, we’re here for our spring outfits, not to save the world.
QUINN (to Sandi, Stacy, and Tiffany): No, guys, don’t you see? This is patriotic. It’s about the war on terrorism. This is important.
TIFFANY: Quinn, I’m wearing my “United We Stand” tee-shirt.
SANDI: Which requires wearing two primary colors in the daytime. Just like my American flag pin. (She points to the flag pin on her blouse.)
TIFFANY: Yeah, that’s something we’d only do in case of a wartime emergency. (Cassandra slaps her forehead.)
SANDI: So you see, Quinn, we’re doing our part.
STACY (to Tiffany and Sandi): Let her hang out with them for a few minutes if she wants to.
SANDI: We’ll see you at the car, Quinn. Try not to take two long beating up those terrorists. (Tiffany, Sandi, and Stacy leave.)
QUINN: So, what’s this Afghanistan school need? A new gym? Football uniforms? (Cassandra slaps her head again.)
BETTY: Everything you can think of. They have an abandoned school building in Jellalabad, but that’s all. They need desks, blackboards, chalk, erasers, money for textbooks and teachers’ salaries, and, well, just about everything else. Your contribution is tax-deductible.
CASSANDRA: As you know, the Taliban allowed only boys to go to school.
QUINN: Yeah, what was that about? (Studies brochure, looks puzzled.) Wait a minute, is this a Reform School?
BETTY: No, why do you ask?
QUINN: It’s a school for just girls!
BETTY: Afghan boys and girls have always gone to separate schools.
QUINN: But that’s crazy! How are they supposed to date?
BETTY: It’s a different culture.
CASSANDRA: If we don’t help the Afghans rebuild their country, the religious fanatics will make a comeback.
QUINN (skeptical): Tell you what. I’ll send your leaflet to my sister at college. She might be interested. (Betty and Cassandra ad-lib words of encouragement. As Quinn walks away, Cassandra slaps her forehead again.)
BETTY (to Cassandra): Must you slap your head like that, while they're standing there watching us?
CASSANDRA: Betty, they’re all such airheads! Did you hear the Asian girl? (Imitates Tiffany.) I’m wearing my patriotic Tee-shirt.
BETTY: When I was her age, I was into Bobby Sherman, so try to have patience.
CASSANDRA: Who on earth is Bobby Sherman?
BETTY: Trust me, you do NOT want to know.
(EXTERIOR. DAY. PARKING LOT OF THE OUTLET MALL. Beavis and Butthead are walking through the lot.)
BEAVIS: Hey, Butthead, there’s three chicks over there carrying lots of stuff. Chicks love it when guys help ‘em carry their stuff.
BUTTHEAD: Huh-huh, huh-huh, cool!
BEAVIS: This just might be our chance to score.
BUTTHEAD: Score? Huh-huh, huh-huh, cool!
(EXTERIOR. DAY. ELSEWHERE IN THE PARKING LOT. The three girls are walking through the lot, still carrying their bags. Sandi is in the lead. Stacy is in the middle. Tiffany brings up the rear. Her face is barely visible behind the boxes she is carrying in front of her. Beavis enters the scene and approaches Tiffany. Butthead singles out Sandi.)
BEAVIS (to Tiffany): Hey, can I help you carry your stuff?
TIFFANY: Thanks. Take something off the top. (Beavis takes a couple of boxes off of the top of the stack. Tiffany and Beavis get a better look at each other.)
BEAVIS: So, are you, like, Chinese or Japanese?
TIFFANY (annoyed): I’m Jewish.
BEAVIS (thinking himself very clever): That’s funny. You don’t look Jewish.
TIFFANY (NOT amused): Puh-leeze! I’ve heard that SO many times.
BUTTHEAD (to Sandi): Can I help you carry some of that? (Sandi takes the measure of Butthead at a glance.)
SANDI (scowling): No, thank you. (to Stacy) Activate primary weapon.
(Stacy puts down her boxes and reaches into her purse. This attracts Butthead’s attention.)
BUTTHEAD (starting to pick up two packages): Okay. I’ll take these.
(Stacy points her noisemaker at Butthead and pushes the button. A LOUD ALARM SOUND GOES OFF. Butthead’s entire body starts to vibrate, though he remains standing.)
BUTTHEAD: Wha-wha-wha-what’s ha-ha-ha-ha-hap-hap-pen-pen-pen-ing-ing to-to-to-to muh-muh-muh-muh-me-me?
TIFFANY (to Beavis): Give me back my stuff.
BEAVIS: But you just said - - -
TIFFANY (louder): Give me back my stuff.
(Butthead drop Stacy's two packages and staggers over to Beavis, all a-quiver.)
BEAVIS: Shut up, Butthead. I’m trying to score.
BUTTHEAD: He-he-he-help muh-muh-muh-me, Bea-ee-ee-vi-vi-vi-vis.
(Desperately trying to stop vibrating, Butthead takes Beavis by the shoulders. Beavis’ body starts vibrating also, in unison with Butthead. He drops the packages. Tiffany picks them up. Beavis and Butthead fall to their knees, still vibrating in unison and adlibbing noises.)
BUTTHEAD (to Beavis): Stuh-stuh-stuh-stop shay-shay-shay-shaking muh-muh-muh-me-me-me, ass-s-s-s-s-s-s-muh-muh-muh-munch.
SANDI: Now’s our chance. Quickly, but don’t run. Running away is geeky.
(Beavis and Butthead collapse onto the pavement, still vibrating in unison. Tiffany gets her stuff together and scuttles off, somewhat awkwardly, after her two friends.)
BEAVIS (to Butthead): Oh-h-oh-oh yuh-yuh-yuh-yeah? You-you-you-you’re-ruh-ruh-ruh shay-shay-shay-shaking muh-muh-muh-me-me-me.
(EXTERIOR. DAY. TIFFANY’S MOM’S STATION WAGON IN THE PARKING LOT. The girls get inside. Sandi takes the driver’s seat. Stacy and Tiffany get in the back. The right seat in the front is apparently reserved for Quinn. They lock the doors.)
TIFFANY: Don’t anybody open the door for anybody except Quinn.
SANDI: No problem. (rolls her eyes) What a bunch of re-tards those two losers were!
(EXTERIOR. DAY. HIGH ANGLE VIEW OF THE PARKING LOT. Beavis and Butthead are still on the ground, convulsing in time with each other. Quinn, carrying her packages, approaches the station wagon from a different lane. A row of cars keeps her from seeing Beavis and Butthead. Sandi unlocks the passenger door for her.)
(EXTERIOR. DAY. THE STATION WAGON ON THE ROAD. Sandi is driving. Quinn is in the shotgun seat. Tiffany and Stacy are in the back.)
STACY: Did you hear the way they were laughing? (Imitating Butthead.) Huh-huh. Huh-huh. We’re gonna score. Huh-huh. Huh-huh.
TIFFANY (showing right profile, imitates Beavis): Heh-heh. Heh-heh. Heh-heh. Heh-heh.
SANDI: Children, children! Those two losers were not, are not, and never will be funny.
QUINN (to herself): Beavis and Butthead? No, no way. What are the chances of that?
SANDI: What’s that, Quinn?
QUINN: Nothing.
(EXTERIOR. DAY. OUTLET MALL PARKING LOT. Beavis and Butthead stop vibrating and gibbering and comes to their senses.)
BEAVIS: That was awesome!
BUTTHEAD (still quite dazed): Did we just score?
BEAVIS: No, we still have our clothes on. But was that a rush or what?
BUTTHEAD (head clearing): Yeah, that was intense. Which one of those chicks did that?
BEAVIS: Probably the Chinese chick.
BUTTHEAD: Yeah, those Oriental chicks, they know all kinds of kinky stuff.
BEAVIS: We need to get back on the road, Butthead.
BUTTHEAD (scratches head): Got any idea where we parked?
(EXTERIOR. DAY. INTERSTATE HIGHWAY INTERCHANGE. The Interstate is packed with cars moving 5 miles an hour, when they’re moving at all. FOCUS ON the station wagon, headed towards the INTERSTATE OVERPASS and the exit to get on the Interstate.)
QUINN: We need an alternate route, Sandi. (She opens the glove compartment.) I’ll get the roadmap. (Suddenly, A LOUD BLAST sounds from the back seat, then rapidly fizzles out. The car swerves for a second or two. Then Sandi regains control.)
SANDI: Gee, Stacy, thanks for almost killing us. (The car stops at a traffic light near the exit ramp.)
STACY: I didn’t do anything.
TIFFANY: I’m sitting on something. (She checks under herself, and pulls out Stacy’s alarm.) I was sitting on Stacy’s noise-thing. Sorry, guys.
STACY: Funny how it quit so soon.
TIFFANY: Yeah, the battery must be out.
SANDI: No problem. We’ll probably never see those geeky guys again.
STACY (taking her alarm from Tiffany): Tiffany, I think this thing runs on compressed air.
TIFFANY: I was gonna get batteries for something today. I can’t remember what it was.
STACY: Probably nothing important.
(Cut to: INSIDE OF TIFFANY’S PURSE. Tiffany’s cell phone blinks “Battery Low” several more times, then goes completely dark.)
(INSIDE THE CAR. DAY. Quinn is studying the road map.)
QUINN: I’ve got another way home, Sandi. Keep straight under the underpass, go three miles, then turn left on State Highway 169.
SANDI: State Highway? How many lanes?
QUINN: Two lanes.
SANDI: This is gonna be slower than the Interstate.
STACY: It’ll be way faster that THAT Interstate is moving.
TIFFANY: Must be a wreck or something.
SANDI: The decision makes itself. State Highway 169.
(EXTERIOR. DAY. THE STATE HIGHWAY. A two-lane road winding through rural countryside: Pastures with grazing cattle, fields with rolled-up hay.)
SANDI: This isn’t so bad. We’re making better time than I thought ‘cause there’s so little traffic.
(EXTERIOR DAY. FURTHER ALONG ON THE STATE HIGHWAY.)
(SUPER; THIRTY MINUTES LATER. The road is straighter now. Nothing but trees stand on each side of the road. There is virtually no other traffic.)
TIFFANY: We’re in the middle of no place.
QUINN: Don’t worry, Tiffany. This road will take us all the way to Lawndale.
(Suddenly the car swerves out of control. It shakes violently, especially on the side where Stacy is sitting. Boxes and bags are thrown back and forth. Sandi, Stacy, and Quinn scream.)
TIFFANY: Shma Yisrael, yada, yada, yada!
(The station wagon glides to a halt, jackknifed across the road at an angle, blocking both lanes.)
QUINN (shaken): That was SO scary.
SANDI (crossing herself): We’re lucky to be alive, girls.
QUINN (noticing Sandi crossing herself): Sandi, I didn’t know you were Catholic.
SANDI: You never asked.
STACY: We just blew out a tire. The right rear one, I think.
QUINN (looks back at Tiffany): What was that thing you were saying, Tiffany?
TIFFANY: It’s called the Shma (pronounced Shmah). It’s a Jewish thing you’re supposed to say when you’re about to die. Or you’re afraid you might die.
QUINN: So that’s where yada-yada-yada came from. I thought Jerry Seinfeld made it up.
STACY: Let’s get out and look at the damage.
TIFFANY (anxious): Mommy’s gonna kill me.
SANDI (snickering to herself): Mommy?
(They get out of the car and walk around to the right rear, led by Stacy. The tire is indeed flat.)
SANDI (angry): Great! Just great! First the geek attack, then the traffic jam on the Interstate, and now this!
TIFFANY: That needs fixing.
(Sandi strikes the roof of the station wagon with her fist.)
SANDI: Gee, Tiffany, you think maybe you could pick up the remote and (shouts) TURN OFF THE STUPID CHANNEL?
(Tiffany begins to cry, bawling like a baby. She collapses into Quinn’s arms.)
STACY: Sandi, you need to apologize to Tiffany. Now!
SANDI: Tiffany, I’m sorry I said that. (two beats) I’m very, very sorry. (three beats) I’m mad at the situation. It was wrong of me to take it out on you. (Tiffany lifts her head from Quinn’s shoulder, and looks pitiful, but says nothing.) Tiffany, your friendship is valuable to me. What do I have to say? (Sandi sees the grim expressions on Quinn’s and Stacy’s faces.) Okay, Tiffany, you’re not stupid. When he had a Fashion Club, you were our Clothes Coordinator. You were the one who made sure our outfits didn’t clash. I would never have given you that important assignment if I thought you were a stupid person. You’re not stupid, Tiffany. I’m sorry.
TIFFANY (softly): Okay, Sandi. (Tiffany steps away from Quinn, and briefly hugs Sandi.) We’re friends again.
STACY: We’re blocking both lanes here. We need to get this car out of the middle of the road.
SANDI (to Quinn): Will you do it? I’m a bit too shaken to drive right now. (Quinn gets in the station wagon, and slowly pulls it out of the middle of the road, bouncing on the rim, onto the shoulder.)
TIFFANY: We’re in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but trees on both sides.
STACY: Looks like the rim is in good shape. We can change this tire, if we have a spare and a jack.
QUINN: Are you out of your mind, Stacy? We’ll get all perspire-y.
SANDI: And break our nails.
TIFFANY: Yeah, and the perspiration will ruin our makeup.
SANDI: Stacy, changing tires is one of the reasons God created guys.
QUINN: Yeah, some nice stranger will come by and do it. We don’t have to get all perspire-y or anything.
TIFFANY: Yeah, somebody will come along.
STACY: We need to get this tire replaced and get out of here as quick as we can. Don’t you see the danger we’re in? There could be serial rapists just down the road. (She points back the way they came from. Quinn, Sandi and Tiffany gasp. Tiffany throws both hands across her chest, forming an ‘X’ with her arms, like she did in the Daria episode “Fire” when Sandi mentioned stalkers.)
QUINN (frightened): Oh, dear, rapists!
TIFFANY: Cereal rapists! I hope they don’t use oatmeal. Ew!
QUINN (hands Stacy the keys): Okay, Stacy, if it’ll make you feel any safer, you can get the jack out and work on this.
SANDI: We are going to be SO late. Tiffany, call your mommy.
(Tiffany gets the cell phone out of her purse. The display screen is blank.)
TIFFANY: Uh-oh. The battery must be dead.
SANDI (sarcastic): Wonderful! What else could possibly go wrong?
(Stacy gets out the jack and lugwrench and starts to jack up the car.)
(EXTERIOR. DAY. STATE HIGHWAY, THE SAME WINDING ROAD WE SAW EARLIER. FOCUS ON Beavis’ and Butthead’s car. Butthead is driving. Beavis is holding a box of cereal labeled “WHEATY CORNY CHEX” and trying to eat them by tossing them and catching them in his mouth. He succeeds about one-third of the time.)
BUTTHEAD: What are you doing, Beavis?
BEAVIS: This is the best way to eat cereal, dude. Right out of the box.
BUTTHEAD: You’re throwing it, like, all over the car.
BEAVIS: Throwing food in the air and catching in your mouth impresses chicks.
BUTTHEAD: Beavis, this is why you’ll never get laid.
(Ignoring him, Beavis tosses another piece into the air, tries to catch it in his mouth, and misses.)
(EXTERIOR. DAY. THE STATION WAGON. With much huffing and puffing, Stacy finishes jacking up the car. The other three girls are standing nearby.)
STACY (breathless): Now we're ready to take the flat tire off. The lugnuts unscrew counter-clockwise.
SANDI: Stacy, you can stop explaining how to do it. We're not going to change the tire. Somebody will stop and help.
(A bird flies overhead, letting out a plaintive bird call, reminding the girls how isolated they are. Quinn looks up at the bird, then down the road in the direction they came from, and then at Stacy struggling with the lug wrench.)
QUINN: I'll help you, Stacy. The more of those leggo nuts we get off, the nearer we'll be to the end when some nice man does stop by to help.
SANDI: Quinn, you'll get all perspire-y.
QUINN: So I'll get all perspire-y. I can take a shower later.
SANDI (to Tiffany): What has happened to Quinn's values?
(Quinn walks over to Stacy.)
QUINN (To Stacy): Let me know when you're ready to quit. We'll rotate.
STACY: Thanks, time me. We'll take five minutes each.
(CUT TO: Quinn tugging at a lug nut. SUPER: TEN MINUTES LATER.)
STACY: Your five minutes are up.
QUINN (frustrated): That's fine, Stacy, 'cause I'm fed up with this crappy piece of crap. (She throws the lugwrench on the pavement.) We'll never get those leggo blocks off! (A bird calls from above. Quinn shakes her fist at the bird.) You stay out of this! What do you know? You're just a stinkin' bird.
STACY: Quinn, you need to inhale. You're starting to sound like your Dad.
QUINN (calmer): Yeah, I'm really startin' to lose it, aren't I? Sorry, guys.
(Tiffany is adjusting her makeup. She sees her reflection in the mirror. Her reflection TURNS INTO HER MOTHER'S FACE.)
FRAN’S FACE IN MIRROR (V. O.): Tiffany, you are responsible for the car.
TIFFANY (to Stacy): My turn comes after Quinn's.
STACY: Cool, Tiffany. I appreciate that. (She picks up the lug wrench and hands it to her. Tiffany begins struggling with the lugnut.)
SANDI (with great reluctance, to Stacy): My turn comes after Tiffany. If we're gonna do this, we might as well share the load.
(CUT TO: Tiffany handing the lugwrench to Sandi. SUPER: FIVE MINUTES LATER. Sandi begins struggling with the first lug nut.)
SANDI: It's starting to move! It's coming off! (Sandi removes the lug nut. Then she looks at the wheel.) Only four more to go. (Resumes working.) We'll be home just in time --- (grunts as she pulls) uh! --- for school Monday. Seriously, Monday morning.
QUINN (looks down the road): Guys! Guys! I see a car coming. (She waves to the ONCOMING CAR.)
STACY: Cool! We're as good as home.
TIFFANY (looks in compact mirror): I hope it isn't cute boys. My makeup is starting to smear.
(Beavis and Butthead's car draws to a stop. The boys get out.)
STACY: Oh, no, Quinn! Not those guys again!
QUINN (dismayed, shouts): Butthead! Beavis! I thought I’d seen the last of YOU guys!
BUTTHEAD (approaching Quinn): Hi! Having some trouble with a flat? (He recognizes Quinn.) I know you! You're Diarrhea's sister. Oops, I mean - - -
QUINN (disgusted, interrupts): Diarrhea? Ew! Butthead, get back in that car and get out of here. I know for a fact you guys don't know HOW to change a tire.
BUTTHEAD: Okay, I'm sorry I got your sister's name wrong, but - - -
QUINN (angry): Go away, Butthead.
(Beavis approaches Sandi working on the tire. The cereal box is stuffed in a pocket of his hooded jacket. Stacy and Tiffany adlib their frustration to each other at seeing these turkeys again, and hover protectively over Sandi. Sandi, looking up from her work, sees Beavis.)
SANDI (to herself): Dear God, no. It can't be.
BEAVIS: So, need some help with the tire? Let me try.
(Suddenly, Sandi turns on Beavis and hits him on the kneecap with the lugwrench. Beavis collapses on the ground, howling with pain and thrashing about. Suddenly he switches to his alternate personality.)
BEAVIS (Cornholio voice): I am Cornholio! Are you threatening me? I need tee-pee for my bunghole!
TIFFANY (disgusted): Bunghole? Ew!
(Beavis adlibs some more gibberish about his bunghole.)
STACY (frightened): This guy is crazy!
(The box of cereal in Beavis' coat pocket works its way loose and flies out onto the ground. CLOSE UP OF THE CEREAL BOX. It is labeled WHEATY CORNY CHEX, Now Fortified with EXTRA SUGAR! Tiffany sees the box, and panics.)
TIFFANY (screaming): There's the cereal! They're cereal rapists! (Tiffany begins to cry.) We're all gonna die. (Tiffany flees toward the woods.)
SANDI (in a rage, to Butthead): If you guys don’t get in that car and go away right now, Butt-Face, you have two minutes to live! (She raises the lugwrench to strike him. Quinn catches it. They struggle.)
SANDI: Quinn, what do you think you’re doing?
QUINN: Don't cripple both of them, Sandi. One of them's gotta drive their car out of here.
SANDI (calmer): Okay, that makes sense. (To Butthead) Take your deranged buddy and get out of here!
(Stacy, recovering her composure, approaches Beavis, who is now limping back and forth around the area, still babbling adlibs about his bunghole. The hood is now up over his head. Stacy takes Beavis by the arm and leads him toward the car.)
STACY: You heard what Sandi said. On your way. We're not interested in your (disgusted) bung-hole.
BUTTHEAD (flipping the girls off): You girls suck!
SANDI (flips him one right back): That is a service we will NEVER perform for YOU.
(Butthead gets in the car, behind the wheel. Stacy hustles the limping, gibbering Beavis back into the car and slams the door loudly. The boys drive away.)
QUINN (shaking fist): You guys will never get any!
SANDI: Gee, Quinn, it was really nice of you to set us up for a second assault by the Geek Patrol.
STACY: And you even knew who they were! Quinn, why?
QUINN: I didn't get a good look at them until their car stopped. I wasn't expecting ever to see them again. They live, like, a thousand miles from here.
STACY: We need to go find Tiffany.
SANDI (pointing towards the woods): She ran off that way. (Sandi forms a megaphone with her hands and calls out.) Tif-fan-ee! Tif-fan-ee!
QUINN (calling): They’re gone, Tiffany! You can come out.
STACY (pointing): There she is!
(Tiffany’s face appears cautiously peering from behind a tree. She sees that Beavis and Butthead have left, and comes back to join her three friends. Walking back, she notices Beavis' box of cereal, lying by the side of the road. Sandi sees it also, and picks it up.)
TIFFANY: Those guys will be less dangerous now. They left without their cereal.
SANDI: Good, there's, like, half a box of it left. If we get hungry, we can snack on this.
TIFFANY: There's way too much sugar in that stuff for me.
STACY (handing Sandi the lugwrench): Back to work, Sandi.
(Sandi groans, and takes the lugwrench.)
(INTERIOR. DAY. MORGENDORFFERS' LIVING ROOM. Helen is idly reading a magazine on the sofa when Jake sticks his head in the door.)
JAKE: Helen, shouldn't Quinn be back from her date by now?
HELEN: It wasn't a date, Jake. It was a road trip to the Outlet Mall in Wappington. They were supposed to be back by six o'clock. (She checks her watch.) It's 6:15. I hope they’re Okay. I'll give Tiffany's mom a call. (She punches a number on her cell phone. SFX: SCREEN SPLITS. Helen on the left. Fran at her office desk on the right, studying a catalog.)
FRAN: I have so many clients with absolutely no taste. Ikea furniture in an orhtodontist's office? Puh-leeze! (Fran's cell phone rings. She answers.) Denkler Interiors. This is Fran Denkler speaking. Hello?
HELEN: Fran Denkler? This is Helen Morgendorffer, Quinn's mother.
FRAN: Oh, yeah, Quinn's mom from the PTA, hi! How've you been? (concerned) Is this about the girls?
HELEN: Yes, wasn't Tiffany supposed to have the girls back to your place by six?
FRAN: Yes, she was. (Checks watch.) Oy! Where's the day gone to? She was supposed to phone the minute she got back. Earlier, if there was a problem. She has her own cell. It's not like Tiffany not to call.
HELEN: Fran, I'm starting to worry.
FRAN: Me too. Helen, I'll call the Highway Patrol and give them a complete description of Tiffany and the car.
HELEN: Good idea, Fran. Try to describe Quinn, too, if you’ve met her.
FRAN: Quinn, let’s see. Slim, about five foot five, curly brown hair, large hoop ear-rings, has a---uh---very frank way of expressing herself. Am I right?
HELEN: No, that’s Sandi.
FRAN: Okay, I’ll try again. Slim, about five foot four, long red hair, extremely charming.
HELEN: That’s her, but the hair is strawberry blonde.
FRAN: Gotcha. I’m calling the Highway Patrol right now.
HELEN: Thanks, Fran. Call me when you hear something.
(SFX: End of Split Screen. FOCUS ON Helen on the sofa.)
HELEN (to herself): I’m glad somebody remembers me going to all those PTA meetings. I know I can’t.
(INTERIOR. DAY. FRAN BLUM-DENKLER IN HER OFFICE.)
FRAN (dialing her phone): If anything happens to that car - - - What am I saying? Poor Tiffany! My precious baby girl!
(EXTERIOR. TWILIGHT. THE STATION WAGON AT THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. SUPER: 7:45 PM. The sun is almost down. Stacy is taking her turn at the tire. Quinn is holding a flashlight over her and timing her. Tiffany and Sandi are sitting in the front seat of the car, with the dome light on. Sandi is munching on some of Beavis' cereal and holding a bottle of water. She swallows a mouthful.)
SANDI: Sure you don’t want some cereal?
TIFFANY: No thanks. Sugar is fattening. But save me some water. (Tiffany pulls a tall pill bottle out of her purse.) I gotta take my pill.
SANDI : Your pill? Oh, yeah, that fat blocker pill you take. (Sandi hands her the water bottle.)
TIFFANY (fondly): Thinno-Pepsin, my life saver since ninth grade. Until Thinno-Pepsin came into my life, I was fat.
SANDI (checking to make sure the cereal box is empty): Maybe I should start taking it. (Tiffany takes the pill and a swallow of water.)
TIFFANY: When I miss my pill, I can actually feel myself getting fat.
SANDI: Yeah, I can imagine. Your clothes feel tight.
TIFFANY: Worse than that. I start shivering, but I also get perspire-y. (Sniffs herself.) More so than now, I mean.
SANDI (disturbed): Oh.
(A HIGHWAY PATROL CAR pulls up. TWO PATROLMEN get out.)
STACY: Cool! Here's the third nut coming loose. Only two more to go.
QUINN (noticing the patrolmen): Stacy, we’re saved. (to the patrolmen) Over here, officers. Would you mind helping us with this stupid flat tire?
(Patrolman #1, heavier and older than his partner, shines his flashlight on the station wagon's license plate.)
PATROLMAN #1: We’d be glad to, miss.
(The flashlight shows a custom license plate on the station wagon that says “FRANZVAN.”)
PATROLMAN #2 (to his partner): That’s the license plate, Lew.
QUINN (jubilant): We're saved!
PATROLMAN #1 (to Quinn and Stacy): We got a report of a missing station wagon and four teenage females. Is Tiffany Blum-Denkler here?
STACY (greatly relieved): Tiffany's in the front seat. Thanks SO much for coming. (She drops the lug wrench.) And thanks for help with the tire.
(Quinn and Stacy step away from the flat as Patrolman #2 starts working on the fourth lugnut. Patrolman #1 walks toward the front of the car.)
QUINN (fretful, to Stacy): I'll be SO late for my date. Serge will think I stood him up or something, and my serious reputation damage will result.
STACY: I don't have a date tonight.
QUINN (quietly): No date on a Saturday night? Your secret is safe with me.
(Patrolman #1 shines his flashlight into the front seat on the driver's side, where Sandi is sitting.)
PATROLMAN #1: Which one of you is Tiffany Blum-Denkler?
SANDI (pointing to Tiffany): She is, officer.
TIFFANY (alarmed): I didn't do anything wrong! I paid for all that stuff!
SANDI: Tiffany dear, we're being rescued.
INSIDE THE STATION WAGON. NIGHT. (Quinn is driving. Sandi sits beside her in the front. Stacy and Tiffany sit in the back. FOCUS ON the four girls inside.)
QUINN: All-right! We’re finally on the road again and headed home to Lawndale.
SANDI: This is not to rain on your parade or anything, Quinn, but I’m sitting here in intense perspiration mode, and I have grease under my nails. Just like the rest of you! And for what? We didn’t do anything the state troopers couldn’t have done. Gee, Stacy, that was a great idea you had, having a bunch of girls fix a tire.
STACY: Sandi, if we ever have to change a tire, now we know how.
QUINN: Sandi, six months ago I would’ve agreed with you. I almost didn’t help with the tire tonight. But you know what? We got three of those leggos off, and saved that nice cop some time. I’m proud of what we did, so stop picking on Stacy.
TIFFANY (pronouncing her words carefully): I feel empowered and validated by this experience.
STACY: Besides, Sandi, if it was such a bad idea, why did you help?
SANDI (uncomfortable): Because solidarity with each other has always been the watchword of Fashion Club.
QUINN: Sandi!
SANDI: Sorry, I mean our little circle of friends. (She thinks of something.) Besides, we wouldn’t have been stranded for so long if Tiffany hadn’t let the battery on her cell go dead.
TIFFANY (angry): The tire blew out when you were driving, Sandi.
(Quinn, Stacy, and Sandi are all surprised at this sudden assertiveness on Tiffany’s part, but Stacy is also concerned for another reason.)
STACY: Sandi, Tiffany, that’s enough finger-pointing. We had a flat, but that’s nobody’s fault. These things just happen.
QUINN: Stacy’s right. Both of you guys need to apologize.
TIFFANY: Sorry, Sandi.
SANDI: Sorry, Tiffany.
TIFFANY: You’ll make a great Mom someday, Stacy.
STACY: Thanks!
QUINN: Let’s look on the bright side of this. We got some great outfits and accessories today. Let’s not let Beavis and Butthead and the flat tire ruin the whole day for us.
STACY: Can't we, like, joke about the way they talk? (imitates Butthead) We’re gonna score. Huh-huh, huh-huh, huh-huh, huh-huh.
TIFFANY (imitates Beavis): Heh-heh, heh-heh, heh-heh, heh-heh.
SANDI (groaning): That is SO not funny.
INTERIOR. NIGHT. QUINN'S BEDROOM. (Quinn is on the phone. Sound from A SMALL PORTABLE TV IN QUINN'S ROOM can be heard in the background. SFX: SCREEN SPLITS. Quinn on the left in her bedroom. Daria is in her dorm room on the right, lying on her bed. She has the same hair style and glasses, but she's wearing a black T-shirt with the slogan, "Future Unemployed English Major." She's also wearing jeans of a dark color. She is barefoot and her toenails are painted violet.)
QUINN: And Serge was very understanding. When he heard on the radio I was missing, he called to take a rain check on our date.
DARIA: That was very considerate of him. This wouldn’t be that obsessive gamer, Serge DuPont, would it?
QUINN: Daria, he hasn’t been that way in, like, two years. He’s tired of games now.
DARIA (sarcastic): That’s a healthy attitude. I hope it spreads.
QUINN (missing Daria’s sarcasm, giving her characteristic laugh): Oh, Daria, you're not gonna believe who stopped and tried to help us change the tire. Here's your clue: Highland.
DARIA: Mr. Van Dressen?
QUINN: No.
DARIA: Mr. Anderson, veteran of six World Wars? Or so it seems.
QUINN: No.
DARIA: You have me at a disadvantage. My previous life is melting away like a boring dream in the harsh glare of collegiate intellectual pretentiousness and post-modernist politically correct gobbledygook.
QUINN: Here's another hint. (She imitates Butt-Head.) We're gonna score. Huh-huh. Huh-huh. Huh-huh. Huh-huh.
DARIA (startled): Beavis and Butthead tried to help you with that flat tire?
QUINN: Yeah. It seems funny now, but at the time I was so frustrated by the whole scene, I wanted to kill them.
DARIA: A wide-spread sentiment. As for those two showing up out of nowhere, a thousand miles from Texas, and try to change a tire---again---that's something that could only happen in real life. In a TV show, for instance, it would be completely unacceptable.
(Quinn notices what's on the TV.)
QUINN: Speaking of TV, Daria, could you hold up a sec?
SICK SAD WORLD ANNOUNCER'S VOICE (from the TV): An over the counter fat blocker pill keeps thousands of teenage girls thin, but it’s also addictive, and turns them into air-headed fuzz-brains. Thinno-Pepsin, curse of the shrinking class, coming up next on Sick, Sad World.
QUINN (notices the TV): Daria, could I call you back? This show I like to watch is about to start.
DARIA (surprised): Quinn, you’re watching Sick, Sad World, aren’t you?
QUINN: Yeah, Sandi got me interested in it.
DARIA: Oh, yes, Sandi. I can’t imagine who else could have given you the idea. Good-bye for now, Quinn. We’ll talk again later.
QUINN: Good-bye, Daria. (Quinn hangs up the phone. Daria’s half of split screen disappears. Quinn speaks to herself.) Poor Tiffany! She’s on drugs! We’ve got to do something.
INTERIOR. SANDI IN HER BATHROOM.
SANDI (looking in bathroom mirror): Is this a mean person I see looking back at me? (She shakes her head.) No, I apologized to Tiffany. Twice! Everybody loses it once in a while, especially with Butt-Face around. (shrugs) What do people want from me, anyway?
INTERIOR. NIGHT. STACY'S BEDROOM. (Stacy, barely visible in the dim light, is lying on her left side, dreaming. In Stacy’s dream, A MALE HAND closes over hers, giving it a squeeze.)
STACY (talking in her sleep, affectionately): Hey there, you big powerful manly stud.
(In the dim light, we can see the silhouette of Butthead's head.)
BUTTHEAD: Huh-huh. Huh-huh. I just scored. Cool!
(Stacy awakens, screaming, as the silhouette of Butthead disappears.)
INTERIOR. NIGHT. TIFFANY'S BEDROOM. (Unable to sleep, Tiffany in her nightie sits on her bed, watching a videotape of her bat-mitzvah on her TV. Tiffany on the videotape at age 13 is 25 pounds heavier, even though she's also 2 inches shorter than the Tiffany we know. The voice is the same, except for being more expressive and slightly faster. A Rabbi stands beside her.)
TIFFANY ON TV (Reading Hebrew, nervously): Vyomer Adonai el-Mosheh - - - (to Rabbi) Oh, Rabbi, I lost my place. Can I start over?
RABBI ON TV: You don't have to. Here's your place.
TIFFANY ON TV: Thanks, Rabbi. (She resumes reading the Hebrew text, slowly but steadily.)
TIFFANY (to herself): I knew the Hebrew. I was just nervous. (She picks up the remote, and presses rewind.) Why was I even watching this? I hate the way I looked in those days. I was fat, and I had no friends except Stacy. But that fat girl on the tape was smart! Well, maybe not super-smart, but smarter than I am now. (She looks down at the remote.) Now all I do is watch the Stupid Channel. What went wrong? (A tear appears in her eye.) What went wrong in my life?
(Cut to: A close-up of the bottle of Thinno-Pepsin on Tiffany's nightstand.)
(The music playing over the credits is “I Want To Be Sedated” by the Ramones.)
FADE OUT