Original subtitles

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So then Sandi said to Mr. O'Neill,

"well, if you want to get technical,

"all writing is plagiarism

because you're using words that already exist."

And he gave her an "f" anyway.

Maybe she shouldn't have titled her story

Sandi Griffin's Dracula.

No hardtack tonight, lads.

We're going top rail number one.

Gee, is it family babble time already?

That's civil war talk, Daria.

What is that?

It's from my new civil war cookbook.

Civil war cookbook--

so you're serving us amputated leg?

Eww!

No, it's corned pork and cabbage.

Eww!

Good news, everyone.

If it's about us lads going top rail number one,

that's yesterday's broadsheet.

We finally settled the atc motors case

after a grueling month,

and at last, I'm going to get some time off

to spend with my family.

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

I mean it this time.

Eric's, um, exhausted

and is taking 28 days to, uh, recuperate.

All that Espresso he was drinking

really wore him down.

Espresso?

To say nothing

of those prescription amphetamine doughnuts.

Daria.

So he's in detox again? Quinn!

Oh, right. Espresso.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Rita.

Uh-oh, call the sibling rivalry SWAT team.

What? Erin and Brian are getting divorced?

Uh, you mean I spent the whole day

in that disgusting bridesmaid's dress for nothing?

No, you had to pay for it, remember?

Well, of course I'd love to handle it,

but it's not really my area of expertise, and--

Rita, there's no such thing as a simple divorce.

Beep!

Hang on; That's my call waiting.

Hello. Oh, mom. Hi.

Well, I was just now talking to Rita about that.

See, I just came off this backbreaking case.

You tell her.

Yes, I know this isn't easy for either of them,

but an attorney who specializes in divorce could--

well, I wouldn't say I'm the best lawyer in my firm.

Eric's--really?

Well, of course I want Rita in the most capable hands possible.

Don't worry about a thing. Bye.

Rita, I'm in.

Oh, god, Helen, no!

The way you and your sister fight,

a man can only take so much!

No, that was Jake. He says hi.

Well, if I can't say sandi Griffin's Dracula,

why does Brad stoker get to say Brad stoker's Dracula?

Um, I think that's bram stoker.

I don't. Perhaps not.

But anyway, he gets to say it because he made the story up.

Huh, Quinn, Dracula is

an internationally known celebrity vampire.

Made the story up.

Guys, how do you like my new dress?

You don't think the blue is too risque, do you?

Not at all,

and it goes perfectly with your cell phone.

Really? You're not just saying that?

Quinn's right.

For once, you have chosen a dress

that's not a complete embarrassment to the rest of us.

Oh, thank you, sandi.

Come on; Let's get to the cafeteria

before they run out of shredded lettuce.

Oh, no.

Tiffany is wearing your dress.

Now what are you going to do?

In this canine go-go bar,

the specialty of the house is--hot dog--

lap-dancing lapdogs next on sick, sad world.

What do you think, Daria?

Stonewall Jackson fed his men these johnnycakes

the night before the battle of chancellorsville.

Well, that explains why they shot him there.

All right, Rita.

I've gathered the necessary paperwork,

and we can go over it when you and Erin get here Saturday.

Actually, it'll just be Erin.

I'd come, but I promised Ralph--

you know the actor I've been dating?

I promised to take him to New York for his birthday,

maybe catch a play or two. Uh-huh.

But I'll call you when I get back.

Good luck.

Beep!

Well, that's just perfect.

Rita's not even coming.

Hey, that's great! No, it's not!

She's spending the money I'm saving her...

On a trip with her boyfriend to New York.

Johnnycake?

Hey.

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

Isn't your sister afraid her ear will grow over the receiver?

Actually, my mother's the one burning up the lines.

My idiot cousin is suing her husband for a divorce,

and mom got roped into handling it.

Ouch; Want to drive around the block

and give me the gory details?

No, I've already put a bitching session with Jane

on my calendar for tomorrow.

Okay, so just want to drive around the block

with no discernible goal?

It's probably not a good time for that.

Thanks, though.

No thanks necess--

sary.

So my mother gets caught up

in all this crap with her family,

and then our family has to suffer for it.

And you're not even looking forward

to having a ringside seat

at your cousin's gut-wrenching breakup?

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

All right, Stacy, Tiffany,

you may each deliver your prepared statement

about why you should have the dress...

A debate was such a great idea, sandi.

Followed by a rebuttal.

Eeww, that word.

Stacy.

Well, I think I should have the dress

because Tiffany looks good in anything,

whereas I don't,

due to a slight asymmetry in my shoulders

that is very painful for me even to mention

but which this particular dress minimizes

while setting off my eyes.

Very good, Stacy.

And now Tiffany.

Well, I think I should have the dress.

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

Yes.

Thank you, and god bless.

Perhaps a debate is not the way to go here.

Hmm, should I give Erin an after-you-dump-him makeover

or a newly single and sizzling makeover?

That depends. Which one involves boiling oil?

Now, while Erin's here,

I want you both to make her feel right at home.

She's family, and she needs our love and understanding.

I could kill that sister of mine!

Bring on the guest.

One fresh pitcher of martinis ready to pour.

Jake, Erin doesn't drink martinis.

I know that; They're for me,

just in case Rita calls.

That must be Erin.

Rita.

Rita, why aren't you in New York?

Ralph broke up with me.

Oh, if only mom had sent me to gstaad along with Erin.

Erin's in gstaad, Switzerland?

Mom thought she could use a week at a spa

to calm her nerves.

Wasn't that thoughtful?

That's mom:

Always thinking of her grandchildren--

one of them, anyway.

Um, Rita, you know,

it would be really helpful if Erin were here.

It is her divorce, after all.

We can always call her if we have to.

Um, Helen, I kind of arranged to have my house painted

while I thought I'd be in New York.

I hope you don't mind if I stay here with you this week.

Dear lord.

What a great idea!

Oh, hi, Erin.

Sorry about Brian.

I hate having to break up with guys I'm dating.

No, you're right.

Marriage isn't the same as dating.

Nobody ever gives you really nice appliances

just for going out with a guy.

Erin, why are you crying?

First of all,

Brian and Erin need to list all their assets.

That should be a breeze for him.

You know the government fired him

the day they got back from their honeymoon?

They've been living off her salary

while that clown tries to pass his real estate exam.

Well, good.

Then he has no real claim on her property.

Aunt Rita, um, Erin wants you to know

that she and Brian kind of signed a prenuptial agreement

that she kind of never told you about

to kind of split everything 50-50.

She's got to go. Bye.

What? Let me talk to her.

Damn.

Say, um, Daria, could you, um, help me

in the, um, kitchen with the, uh...

Johnnycakes? Yeah, the johnnycakes.

Smooth, Mr. Bond.

Lead the way.

That little weasel made her sign a prenup.

He knew she was gonna be the breadwinner.

We've got to fight this, Helen,

all the way to the supreme court, if we have to.

Rita, the supreme court doesn't handle divorces.

They're swamped with shoplifting cases.

Now, there's a junior associate in my office

with a ton of experience in matrimonial law.

I'll be happy to--

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

Rita, you said this was a simple divorce,

and it's not.

I'm really not qualified

to handle something this complicated.

Oh, I see; You're willing to help,

provided it doesn't take more than ten minutes of your time.

Well, I'm sure mom and I can figure out

some way to hire a lawyer who can.

All right! I'll do it.

I can't take it, Daria:

The fighting, the yelling,

and then always the crying.

Yours, you mean.

I got to get out,

at least until the dust settles.

Or the bodies stop twitching.

Now, we're gonna need a signal.

Okay, when I call, if Rita is still here,

say, "the eagle has landed."

And if they're fighting, say, "the crow flies at midnight."

But if she's gone, then "the pigeons are at rest."

Got that?

Is there any way to work in "hark, I hear the cannons roar"?

Good luck. Hi, Quinn. Bye, now.

Dad's leaving?

Only until mom and aunt Rita stop being sisters.

Hmm, maybe after my fashion club meeting,

we should just stay around the house

until aunt Rita leaves--

you know, to be, like, peacekeepers?

I'll cancel my dates.

You don't have any plans tonight, right?

Well, I was gonna go downtown

and count the cracks in the sidewalk.

Oh, Daria, surely that can wait.

Can I make you a carrot juice?

But, sandi, what if I agreed to wear my dress

only on odd-numbered days

and Tiffany agreed to wear hers only on even-numbered ones?

Stacy, days have names, not numbers.

Alternating sounds like a good idea.

Oh, sure, until our enemies spread the rumor

that Stacy and Tiffany are trading off a single garment,

the only possible scenario more horrifying

than owning two of the same dress.

Oh, god! Oh, god!

I'm sorry, Teresa, but we must return these dresses.

Here are the receipts.

Oh, no.

Um, guys, you bought these dresses over two weeks ago.

It's too late to return them.

Surely those silly rules don't apply

to your most valued customers.

I'm really sorry.

I can give you some free shopping bags, if you want.

I can't believe you bought my dress.

Excuse me. You bought my dress.

Guys, guys! Stop the madness.

Is a dress really worth destroying the sacred bond

between fashion club member and fashion club member?

Stop your fighting before it's too late.

Quinn, are you all right?

Knock it off, you little brats!

Who is this? Rita?

Must have the wrong number.

Damn it.

Now, prenup or no prenup,

with a little creative accounting,

I think we can get Brian to take a fairly modest lump sum.

God, I hope so.

He's certainly old enough to be earning his own money.

Tell me about it. What's that supposed to mean?

Oh, hi, Erin.

Uh-huh.

What? That's great! Bye.

Guess what. The divorce is off.

But we were having so much fun.

Come on, let's tell mom and aunt Rita.

Just admit that employment

has never been one of your strong suits.

Mom, aunt Rita.

Excuse me, but I had more important things to do,

like raise Erin.

Erin's 24, Rita.

Listen!

Brian flew to Switzerland to make up,

and they're having a second honeymoon.

On mother's credit card, no doubt.

You know, Jake and I barely had a first honeymoon

because we had to pay for our own wedding.

And that's supposed to be my fault?

Well, if you hadn't gone over budget

on your wedding six months before--

Your first wedding.

Hey, how's it going?

$4,000 for a lighted dance floor!

Helen, disco was king.

Oh, just fine.

Mom broke every rule of parenting,

the way she favored you.

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

Oh, when will it stop? When? When?

Care to step away from the crossfire?

What the hell is going on in there?

Look, it's bad enough I have to listen to it all day.

I don't want to have to talk about it too.

Um, sorry.

So...

I'd better go.

Mom may need an eyewitness

or someone to hand her the murder weapon.

Daria. What?

Nothing.

Hello.

Daria? Thank god it's you.

So, um, has the eagle landed, or is it the crow?

Aunt Rita's still here and--

Daria, is that your father?

No, no, no, no!

A large pizza with extra cheese.

Got it. Thanks for calling pizza prince.

Beep!

You're up.

Aww.

Where is your father, anyway?

Johnnycake fest 3000.

Great. Now Jake's run off.

Did you ever think that he might stick around more

if you weren't so preoccupied with work?

Excuse me.

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

Hello. Hi, aunt Amy.

Rita, we need to talk.

Relax, I'm going home to the paint fumes.

And don't worry.

Erin and I will never bother you again.

Look, I think we both said things we shouldn't have.

But for once, let's not go away angry, okay?

I don't know, Helen.

I've got an idea.

Let's Bury the hatchet and, um, bake some cookies.

What do you say?

Cookies? From scratch?

More or less.

Chocolate chip or peanut butter?

The chips are already in it, right?

Of course.

I think.

Aunt Amy?

Daria called for reinforcements.

Have your mother and Rita killed each other yet?

Actually, they're in the kitchen making cookies.

No. Really?

You're cutting those slices too thick.

The package says 1/2 an inch.

That is 1/2 an inch.

Okay, I just hope you like your cookies undercooked.

Here. You cut it.

I'm sure you could do a much better job

than little old useless me.

Oh, please. You weren't even trying.

You know, if you ever put your mind to anything--

why can't they just get along?

Environmental factors.

They were both exposed to each other as children.

Come in.

The cavalry has arrived.

Oh, speaking of soldier junk, Daria,

gone with the wind is on tonight.

We should watch it.

It has that civil war in it

you and dad are always talking about

plus this really big fire.

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

You don't have to decide right now.

Oh, and did I tell you

your hair doesn't look that bad today? Bye.

I know she wants something.

So update?

Okay.

Mom and aunt Rita are on the brink

of mutually assured destruction,

Quinn's obviously having a nervous breakdown,

and dad's on the lam.

Gee, reminds me of my childhood.

You holding up okay?

Well, much as I couldn't care less about Erin,

I can't say my 24-year-old cousin's near divorce

has left me exactly optimistic about life's possibilities.

So things are not going well

with that guy you've been seeing?

Huh? That's going fine,

except he won't stop dropping by

during this multigenerational family crisis.

He refuses to accept the fact

that I don't have time for him now.

Hmm, maybe he's trying to offer his time to you.

Huh. Maybe.

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

Even if I did have a job,

I'm sure it couldn't possibly meet with your approval.

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

Ah, another Kodak moment with the barksdales.

Amy. What are you doing here?

Oh, I thought I'd drive a few hours, drop by,

and see if you guys were having the same fight

you've been having for 40 years.

How would you know?

You spent the whole time barricaded in your room,

reading those weird Russian novels.

It was better than getting caught in the nonstop crossfire.

Oh, please.

You just used us as an excuse

to avoid any family responsibility whatsoever

so you could do whatever the hell you pleased.

At least I didn't nurse a childhood grudge

well into adulthood because Rita was mom's favorite.

I did not!

I was not. You are too.

She's right. I don't need your help.

Maybe mom would get along better with both of you

if you ever bothered to pick up the phone and call.

Um, mom--

why should we, when she's never offered us

the slightest bit of encouragement or appreciation?

That's right! I don't need your help.

Encouragement?

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

you didn't make us look lazy enough.

You wanted encouragement to do more?

What are you laughing at?

She's got a point.

She can laugh if she wants to.

Oh, so you think that--

you're always picking on me.

Hey!

Gee, Rita, are you ever gonna get a job?

Why should I, Helen, when you won't pay attention to mother?

And you, Amy, who asked you?

Yeah, you had a dance floor at your wedding!

You're a showoff and a know-it-all.

You just hide in your room like a Kermit.

Mom likes you better.

That's because I call her better.

Oh, Rita. Helen.

I'm sorry.

Me too. Ohh.

Ohh.

Why are you here, Amy?

Daria asked me to come mediate,

although perhaps that's something

she's better at than I am.

Oh, Amy. Come here.

I blame you for this.

Did you decide about gone with the wind?

So then, after aunt Amy arrived to save the day

and within three minutes, it totally regressed

into the same preschool encounter group as her sisters,

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

Wow, growing up in a repressed household

is so boring next to this stuff.

We always have to pretend problems don't exist.

Gets pretty inconvenient when there are odors involved.

Yes, and speaking of pretending problems don't exist,

sorry for giving you the short end of the stick this week.

Hey, you were busy refereeing.

I understand.

Actually, I think my cousin's little marital crisis

made me feel weird about the boyfriend-girlfriend thing.

Does that freak you out and scare you?

No, I guess I could see that.

Thanks.

Anyway, what about a movie tonight?

I can't.

I promised Quinn I'd watch gone with the wind with her.

Okay, that freaks me out and scares me.

Pray for me.

As president of the fashion club,

I am putting you both on suspension

for failing to do a wardrobe check before leaving home

and thus appearing in the same dress on the same day.

But, sandi, you can't suspend me.

It's not fair!

My dress--it's ruined.

Oh, Tiffany, I am so sorry.

It was an accident.

Sure it was, Stacy.

She'll never get that grape soda out.

This calls for severe disciplinary action.

But I didn't mean to. I swear!

I'll give you my dress to prove it.

You'd do that for me?

Of course. You're my friend.

Oh, Stacy.

Oh, that wasn't a good idea.

That movie was so sad.

I know it made me feel like crying.

Um, Quinn, there's something bothering you

other than the saga

of our fair nation being torn apart, isn't there?

No.

I only ask because I finally realized

all that stuff going on here this week

was making me act strangely toward Tom,

so maybe you're having a similar unanticipated reaction,

such as, oh, wanting to spend time with me?

Hello. Oh, hi, dad.

The pigeons are at rest.

Daria, you don't think we'll end up

having the same fight over and over again

for the rest of our lives,

the way mom and aunt Rita do, do you?

No, we'll use weapons.

Don't say that.

I'll make you a deal.

The only weapon I'll use against you

will be my winning personality,

and the only weapon you'll use against me

will be your merciless silent treatment.

Silent treatment? I never--

hah. Deal.

"The pigeons are at rest."

That means it's safe, doesn't it?

No, "the eagle has landed" means it's safe,

or was that a condor?

Damn it, I can't sleep in here again tonight!

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