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Daria (season 3)

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Seasons: 1 2 3 4 5 | Main | Films: Is It Fall Yet? / Is It College Yet?

Daria is an American animated sitcom created by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn for MTV. The series focuses on Daria Morgendorffer, a smart, acerbic, and somewhat misanthropic teenage girl who observes the world around her.

Daria! [3.01]

[edit]
Trent: [answering the phone] Hello? No, Daria's not here. You want the Morgendorffers.
Jake: Gah! Aah! I am the Morgendorffers!
Helen: [takes the phone from Jake] Calm down, Jake! Hello? Trent? You haven't seen the girls?...Are your parents there?...Are they in town at all?...Have you done anything to prepare for this hurricane?...Yes, hurricane! Trent, I want you to come over and wait for the girls here. You'll be safer...Then put some on! And get over here now, young man! [hangs up] Doesn't anybody in this town wear pants anymore?

Daria: My parents are probably starting to worry.
Jane: I know mine would be, if they were in town.
Daria: What about Trent? I'll bet he's upset.
Jane: I'll bet he's snoring.

Through a Lens Darkly [3.02]

[edit]
[Amy's phone rings and she picks it up; split-screen between her and Daria]
Amy: Hello?
Daria: Aunt Amy?
Amy: Hey, my favorite niece.
Daria: Oh!
Amy: Who is this?
Daria: Um, it's...
Amy: I'm joking, Daria. How are you? Your mother hasn't had a stroke, has she?
Daria: Well, I haven't checked her in the last half hour. How was Hawaii?
Amy: Wish I were still there. What can I do for you?
Daria: Um, I wanted to ask your advice about something. I'm thinking of getting contact lenses.
Amy: Uh-huh. Sounds good.
Daria: It does?
Amy: Why not?
Daria: Well, isn't it kind of... vain?
Amy: Do you have mirrors in your house, Daria?
Daria: Yeah.
Amy: Do you look in them before you go out?
Daria: Yeah.
Amy: Well then, you're already going to hell, so you might as well get the lenses. You'll see the brimstone better.
Daria: What do you mean?
Amy: I mean, having contacts is no more vain than primping in the mirror. It just gives you different options about the way you look. It wouldn't change your personality, it wouldn't change your values, and it would set your parents back a couple hundred bucks. So, I don't see any downside at all.
Daria: Thanks, Aunt Amy.
Amy: I'd love to see how it turns out. Send me a picture, okay?
Daria: You want a picture of me with my contacts?
Amy: Either that or a shot of Ralph Fiennes. Whichever.

Jane: So now what, eagle eye?
Daria: Well, I can't wear my contacts until I see the doctor again, that's for sure. And if I bang into anyone else at school I'll be arrested for assault. So I guess it's back to the glasses tomorrow.
Jane: Or we go downtown and apply for a seeing eye dog.
Daria: I tell you the truth, this whole thing's got me very confused. I want my glasses back.
Jane: Are you still hung up on that vanity thing?
Daria: That's not it. Everyone already knows I'm vain.
Jane: Oh, yeah, you're one huge narcissist. So if not that, then what?
Daria: This is kind of hard to explain. It's like, I know my glasses set me apart. When I look in the mirror without them I can't see a thing. But when I put them on and look in the mirror again, I think...
Jane: Yeah?
Daria: I think to myself, 'Never mind glasses. You can see things that other people can't. You can see better than other people. So to hell with them and what they think of you and your glasses.'
Jane: You're not talking about eyesight anymore, are you?
Daria: No.
Jane: And you like that Daria better than the Daria who cares about her looks.
Daria: Um, yeah.
Jane: I don't blame you. Why settle for vanity when you can have pure egotism? You're a twisted little cruller, ain't you?
Daria: Yeah.
Jane: That's why I'm proud to be your friend.

The Old and the Beautiful [3.03]

[edit]
Brittany: "As his fingers trailed sensuously down the nape of her neck to her... bow-dice... she tingled uncontrollably with the knowledge that tonight Jean Perrier would taste the fruit of the garden from which no man had ere picked produce before." Oh!
Woman #1: What a pretty voice she has. Do you think?
Woman #2: Oh, yes. She sounds just like Frances did when she was younger.
Woman #3: I always did have a lovely voice.
Brittany: Thanks!
Woman #2: And I looked just like you, dearie.
Brittany: Eep!
Kevin: Pow! Blam! Kablooey! Cool, this guy just swallowed his own teeth.
Man: Happened to me last Friday. Only they weren't my teeth, if you get my drift.
Kevin: Yeah. No.
Nurse: Daria, you'll be reading to Mrs. Patterson. I think you two will really hit it off.
Mrs. Patterson: What a pretty girl...
Daria: [upbeat] Oh.
Mrs. Patterson: ... that Brittany is.
Daria: [dejected] Oh.
Mrs. Patterson: Are you two friends? No, I don't suppose you would be. Never mind. Let's hear what you brought to read.
Daria: I hope you like poetry.
Mrs. Patterson: Oh, yes. My favorite birthday cards are the ones with poems in them.
Daria: "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. Starving, hysterical, naked. Dragging themselves through the negro streets of dawn..." [time passes] "... the soul is innocent and immortal. It should never die ungodly, in an armed madhouse--"
[Mrs. Patterson presses call button]
Nurse: Mrs. Patterson, can I get you something?
Mrs. Patterson: Get me my walker. And then hit her with it!

Brittany: Daria, this is my stepmom, Ashley-Amber. Do you recognize her?
Daria: I think so, but it's so hard to remember your childhood nightmares clearly.
Brittany: She was the poster model for St. Peter Girl beer.
Ashley-Amber: [from memory] "I'll cure what 'ales' you." [giggles]
Brittany: Ooh, isn't she great?
Daria: It's hard to believe she's real.
Brittany: Come on, I'll introduce you to my dad.
Daria: He's not the Maytag repairman, is he?
Brittany: I don't think so.
[Daria and Brittany enter Steve Taylor's study]
Brittany: Dad, this is my classmate, Daria.
Steve: Hey, Daria. Steve Taylor. Always glad to meet one of Britt's friends. [shakes hands with Daria] You like cosmetics? I'll get you into a focus group. The pay is a joke but there's free lip gloss out the ying yang. Good stuff, too. They try it on cats first. You meet my wife? Boy, was she a knockout when she was young.
[Brian runs through hall, laughing]
Brittany: My pompoms!
Steve: That's my Pebble Beach hat, you little turd! Gerald Ford sold me that hat!
[Brittany and Steve run after Brian]
Daria: Hi. How are you?

Depth Takes a Holiday [3.04]

[edit]
Daria: Cool thoughts... a river running to the ocean... far from here...
Cupid: [knocks on the window] So, you'll help us, right?
Daria: Why not? I'm obviously having some kind of nervous breakdown. I'll just ride it out and see where it takes me, Zelda Fitzgerald-style.
Quinn: Daria, something's wrong with Mom and Dad. Daria, who are you talking to?
Daria: Uh...my imaginary friend?
Quinn: [from her room] Okay, I'll come back.
St. Patrick's Day: The girl mustn't know about us!
Daria: Right, because you can't be seen by other mortals.
St. Patrick's Day: No! It'd be having to talk to the little twit that'd drive us crazy!
Cupid: You know, you're getting kind of heavy...
St. Patrick's Day: Shut up, you bloody...IDIOT!
[Cupid drops St. Patrick's Day with a loud thud]
Quinn: What was that?
Daria: My imaginary friend fell down.
Quinn: God, Daria. Even your imaginary friends are embarrassing.

Jake: You know, Quinn. It's been kind of nice having you around so much lately.
Helen: It has been nice. Very nice.
Quinn: [feels upset] Nice?! It's been the most boring, worst time in my entire life! Go ahead and have your stupid baby! I can't take this anymore!
Jake: You're pregnant?!
Helen: Of course not.
Jake: We can't have another kid, Helen!
Helen: Well, I'm not pregnant. And that's not a very nice thing to say, by the way.
[Helen and Jake begin to argue]
Daria: [comes in] Hey, what's going on?
Quinn: [angrily] Absolutely nothing, and I am sick of it! I can't continue to live my life like some kind of monk in a nunnery! [leaves angrily]
Daria: Actually...
Jake: Well, don't blame me!
Helen: Oh, oh, and you want to blame me!
Jake: Get off my back, Helen! Leave me the hell alone!
Daria: God bless us, everyone

Daria Dance Party [3.05]

[edit]
Quinn: Hi, guys. [guys greet Quinn eagerly] I was wondering if you could do me a teensy-weensy favor.
Guys: I can do it. No problem!
Quinn: Great! I need help planning the dance.
Jeffy: [clears throat] Quinn, we'd like to help but, uh, you know... we're guys.
Guys: Hey, Sandi.
Sandi: Gee, I hope everyone here isn't too busy to come to the party I'm having while my parents are out of town.
Guys: [cheering] Yeah, we're there!
Sandi: Quinn, I just want to say that I'm really sorry about our fight. I don't even care who was at fault. I just hope you're not still mad.
Quinn: I could never stay mad at you, Sandi.
Sandi: Good. So you'll be at my party next Saturday. I mean, it wouldn't be the same without you, Quinn.
Guys: [chanting] Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!
Quinn: Saturday? But that's the same night as the dance.
Guys: [chanting] Dance, dance, dance!
Sandi: You're kidding! I forgot all about the dance. Gee, that's too, too bad. I mean, I can't un-order all that free pizza.
Guys: Pizza? Cool!
Quinn: Well, I can't un-order, um, the free soda and tacos I was going to order.
Guys: Tacos? All right!
Sandi: Outdoor turbo-jet hot tub.
Quinn: Preferred seating for the popular.
Sandi: Green Bay on big screen!
Quinn: D.J. on dance floor!
Sandi: Miniskirt!
Quinn: Strapless!
Sandi and Quinn: [to guys] Well?!!
Jeffy: My head hurts!
Jamie: Mine, too.
Joey: Oh, man!

Daria: Let's do the math one more time. Your dance decorations were a huge hit.
Jane: Plus.
Daria: But my sister managed to take complete credit for them.
Jane: Minus.
Daria: We hung out with a couple of guys who weren't so bad.
Jane: Plus.
Daria: But they turned out to be carriers of the dreaded Ruttheimer gene.
Jane: Big minus.
Daria: So, we're more or less even on the night.
Jane: Darn. And it came so close to turning out semi-decent.
[snow begins to fall]
Sandi: [pounds on door] Come on, you little punk, open up! Open this door, you little brat!
Tiffany: Oh, my God, let us in! Hello?
[Stacy whimpers]
Daria and Jane: Plus!

The Lost Girls [3.06]

[edit]
Daria: As far as I can make out "edgy" occurs when middlebrow, middle-aged profiteers are looking to suck the energy--not to mention the spending money--out of the "youth culture." So they come up with this fake concept of "seeming to be dangerous when every move they make is the result of market research and a corporate master plan".

Val: So I said, "This is Val talking, not just some ordinary teen loser from Loserville."
Daria: Mmm.
Val: Anyway, I am through with famous guys. I'm sticking with fashion designers and studio heads, at least for the time being.
Daria: Mmm.
Val: Waterproof eye makeup is so important, Dar. And glitter -- I'm really into glitter these days. It makes everyone feel like a star. Are you getting this, Dar? Why don't you read me back your notes?
Daria: Okay. "What am I doing here? How am I going to get through this? Dear God, help me."
Val: Wow, you are so existential. But didn't you write down anything I said? [phone rings] Hang on. [into phone] You got Val, go. How can I not appeal to their demographic? They are so wack -- I am their demographic. They wouldn't know edgy if it bit them in the butt. Oh, confirm my hair color appointment and facial for tomorrow, would you? And work up a schedule for my girlfriend Dar's visit. Thanks for saving my life, helpmate. [hangs up] I'm zonked. Collaborating is hard, don't you think?
Daria: How would I know?
Val: Sorry about all those phone calls.
Daria: Oh, I just think of it as being a witness to history. Anyway, it isn't everyday your boyfriend dumps you for a starlet.
Val: I was NOT dumped! And I am much more famous than that pathetic, B-list, pseudo celebrity! Not that the suits who control the airwaves would know. Sometimes I feel like the whole adult world is against youth culture.
Daria: Except the adults making a nice fat living off of it.
Val: What do you mean?
Daria: What do YOU mean? What do you mean, pushing yourself as some kind of role-model when all you care about is how you look and what celebrities you know? Aren't teenage girls screwed up enough without you foisting your shallow values on them and making their lousy self images even worse?
Val: Now look here, missy. I mean, what are you, Dar, a teacher? I am a role model! I'm in touch with the teen within.
Daria: Why don't you get in touch with the 30-something without? Your readers aren't going to be teenagers forever, unlike you. A real role model would be teaching them stuff they can use.
Val: 30-something?! You know, I came here to do an article on a smart girl who's cool, because smart is cool. But cool is cool, too, and smart that doesn't get cool isn't so smart, is it? You can forget about New York, Daria. You know, deep down you're nothing but a... a...
Daria: A brain?
Val: You almost made me say it! [leaves, then sticks head back in] I don't really look like I'm 30-something, do I?

It Happened One Nut [3.07]

[edit]
Tiffany: You're that girl from Quinn's house.
Daria: Are you getting counseling, too?
Tiffany: [trance-like] I'm the counselor. It's volunteer work... to help the socially... challenged.
Daria: You're going to counsel me? Of course. It's some kind of cosmic payback for being too ironic. Okay. Is this going to take long?
Tiffany: [begins reading very slowly] "You... too... can learn to... make..."
Daria: Yes?
Tiffany: "... friends. Making... friends..."
Daria: Why don't I read that to myself? That way, we can both be out of here before we graduate.
Tiffany: "Making friends... is..."
Daria: [taps foot impatiently] Fun? Interesting? Impossible?
Tiffany: "... important. Friends can be... very..."
[clock ticks from 3:00 to 3:01]
Daria: Useful? Supportive? Purple? What?!
Tiffany: You made me lose my place. [grunts softly in frustration] Let's see... "Making friends... is... important..."

Jane: Mrs. Morgendorffer? This is Jane, Daria's friend.
Helen: Jane, do you need an attorney? I don't do criminal work but I'll get you someone. Don't say anything to anyone until we get over there.
Jane: No, no. I'm looking for Daria.
[split-screen between Jane and Helen]
Helen: Daria? Why are you calling here?
Jane: She told me she was going to talk to you about the way they're treating her at work.
Helen: Really?
Jane: They probably haven't let her off yet. I bet she's still in the back room, bagging nuts.
Helen: What?! In the back room? How is she going to improve her social skills there?
Jane: Yeah, that's the thing. She's the senior employee at the nut stand, and the most qualified, but for some reason her male co-worker is the one they've got behind the counter.
Helen: What?! I knew I shouldn't have trusted one of Jake's sleazy contacts. [groans in frustration]

Lane Miserables [3.08]

[edit]
Helen: Jane, since you're staying with us and all I thought... well, you're Daria's best friend, and she's, she's so hard to talk to these days...
Jane: Maximum of 3 questions. No betrayals. Immunity from prosecution.
Helen: Agreed. Drugs?
Jane: Nope. Unless you count TV.
Helen: Depressed?
Jane: No, just realistic.
Helen: Sex? Oh, that's too obvious. Can I have another one?

Jake: Say, uh, Jane... I know you're Daria's best friend and... well, she's so hard to talk to these days. I was wondering...
Jane: Maximum of three questions. No betrayals. Immunity from prosecution. And, uh, talk your wife into finding a new speed-walking route.
Jake: Done! Age?
Jane: 17.
Jake: Uh... height?
Jane: 5 foot 2.
Jake: Mm-hmm. Favorite color?
Both: Black.
Jake: Oh, that's too obvious. Can I have another one?

Jake of Hearts [3.09]

[edit]
Helen: [into phone] Well, actually, Eric, would you mind if we wrapped this up tomorrow? Oh, no, that's okay, no, fine. It's just that my family was just... no. Yes, sure, of course. Not at all. Anytime -- never!
Jake: Nothing like Taco Tuesday, eh, girls?
Daria: If I recall correctly, Taco Thursday was pretty similar.
Quinn: I was on the radio today. Bing and the Spatula Man invited the Fashion Club to critique the outfits of some less stylish students.
Daria: Marconi would be so proud.
Quinn: That Spatula Man is funny!
Daria: As are most men named for kitchen utensils.
Jake: Helen, you're going to miss out on all the guacamole! [taunting] Mom's going to miss the guacamole, Mom's going to miss the guacamole...
Helen: Enough with the guacamole! [into phone] No, not you, Eric!
Quinn: I think Bing has a crush on me. Daddy! You're using all the cheese!
Jake: [starts blushing and sweating] "What did the doctor tell you about cheese, Jake? What did the doctor tell you about cheese, Jake?" Why can't a man come home from a hard day's work and enjoy a lousy taco without it turning into...hey, you know, it's the darndest thing! I can't feel my arm! [starts wheezing]
Daria: Dad?
Jake: Blurk! [passes out in the guacamole]
Quinn: Daddy?
Jake: [picks his head up from the bowl] Mom's...gonna miss...the guacamole... [passes out again]
Helen: [turns around, drops phone] Jakey!

Jake: [shrieks] The bats of death! They've come for me!
Daria: Don't worry, Dad. It's just the bats of bad TV.
Helen: Oh, Jakey! I promise, the girls and I will take good care of you from now on.
Jake: What's the catch?
Helen: There's no catch, Jake. That's just your medication talking.
Daria: Assuming he's on any medication.
Helen: This book will tell us what we need to do now that we have a heart attack survivor in the family.
Quinn: And guess what, Daddy? I'm going to study to be a doctor!
Jake: Hey, that's great.
Daria: Dr. Quinn, medicine moron.
Quinn: A heart doctor. If Dad died I would've been freaked out for, like, years.
Jake: That's the spirit, sweetie. Avenge my death.
Daria: You're not dying, dad.
Jake: Avenge me!
Helen: Jake, you're going to give yourself a... never mind. Honey, is there anything we can get for you?
Jake: Yipe! [EKG machine beeps] I want my mommy.

Speedtrapped [3.10]

[edit]
[Daria struggles to drive on a busy freeway]
Quinn: Tense?
Daria: No, there's a lot of stuff going on. You have no idea how complicated driving is.
Quinn: It's not that hard.
Daria: How would you know? [a tractor-trailer whizzed by blowing it's horn at her] Dah! A giant truck!
Quinn: Pull over, Daria.
[Daria pulls over and Quinn starts to drive]
Daria: I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm letting you do this. I can't believe we're doing this. Hey, when did you learn to drive?
Quinn: God, Daria, what do you think people do on dates?
Daria: Aren't you terrified?
Quinn: It's all about attitude. You're too timid, Daria. I could do this all day.
Daria: Actually, I wouldn't mind if...
Quinn: Your turn. [pulls car over]
Daria: But you just started. [sees hitchhiker approaching] No way! We are not picking up some insane, murdering serial killer. How reckless can you get?
Quinn: He's not a killer. I recognize him. It's... Sandi's cousin from Memphis.
Daria: Mom and Dad would crucify us.
Quinn: [sarcastically] Right, but taking the car out for a hundred-mile joyride won't bother them at all. Face it, Daria, you're already accessorizing.
Daria: You mean, I'm an accessory?
Quinn: Whatever. Look, lighten up. You drive and I'll keep him from murdering us.
Travis: Howdy! I sure do appreciate this.
Quinn: You're not going to murder us, are you?
Travis: Shoot, no.
Quinn: See? All you have to do is ask.

Travis: Well, that ornery bull caught sight of my red shirt and that was about it. He must have chased me around that pasture ten times before I could climb over the fence.
Quinn: Wow, Travis, what a great story!
Daria: Yeah. It was just as good as the first time I saw it... on Little House on the Prairie.
Travis: Heck, Dareeah, we could go find that bull right now. The pasture's only 20 miles away.
Daria: We have to get to Fremont and bail out the band.
Quinn: Come on, Daria. Stop being timid.
Daria: Stop being reckless.
Travis: Band? Hey, what a coincidence! I'm a musician, too.
Daria: Well, bust my legs and call me Shorty.
Quinn: Play us something, Travis.
Travis: Do you like country music?
Quinn: It's practically the only music I can listen to.
Daria: Wait, I thought...
Quinn: Shut up, Shorty. Go ahead and play us something, Travis.
Travis: Here's a little tune from Mr. Conway Twitty. Hope you like it. [plucks guitar]

The Lawndale File [3.11]

[edit]
Jane: Did we just see a U.F.O.?
Daria: You're getting paranoid. It's probably just an informal get-together of local stalkers. You know, hang out, swap stories, try out each other's skeleton keys.
Jane: But only an idiot would go stalking with a flashlight.
Daria: Come on. This is Lawndale.
Jane: Oh, yeah.

Kevin: So, there aren't any atomic communists?
Jane: I wouldn't say that.
[Points to the Fashion Club, who are all wearing black turtle necks and berets]
Quinn: Don't say anything.
Tiffany: We're dressed this way for Fashion Club solidarity.
Sandi: One of us has a problem. That's all you need to know.
Mr. O'Neill: Oh, dear! What kind of problem?
Sandi: A private problem.
Stacy: It's a neck zit!
Quinn: Stacy!
Tiffany: Don't worry, Quinn. They still don't know it's you.
[Quinn screams and runs off]
Stacy: Uh-oh.
Tiffany: Did I say the wrong thing?
Sandi: Don't worry about it.

Just Add Water [3.12]

[edit]
Daria: Let's find someplace we can nap in peace.
Jane: All right. But first, let's gamble all our chips away in one grand, magnificently pointless gesture.
Daria: That's the only kind of gesture I make.
Mr. O'Neill: [voiceover] Give away the chips.
[Daria places chips on number 13]
Jane: Hey, wouldn't it be ironic if we won?
Dealer: Number 8.
Daria: So much for irony.
Mr. DeMartino: Daria, take my chips.
Daria: Excuse me?
Mr. DeMartino: You know, as a thank you for making me want to kill myself a little less than the processed sausages who call themselves your classmates.
Jane: You're not one of those "young people are our greatest hope" guys, are you?
Mr. Demartino: Then you take them, Jane. For being so...
Jane: Yes?
Mr. DeMartino: ...angular.
Mr. O'Neill: Hello, everyone. Hope there aren't any "card sharps" here. [chuckles]
Jane: Hmm. It is tempting. Especially with Mr. O'Neill about to sit down at the poker table.
Daria: I bet he has a good poker face.
Jane: But I'd rather be sleeping. Thanks, anyway.
Mr. DeMartino: "Give the chips away..." "Poker face..." Aah! Poker!

Quinn: So... now that Sandi's been dumped, she won't dare bring up Marco. [Daria and Jane fall asleep on Quinn's shoulders] EWW! GEET OFF ME! [pushes them away]
Helen: Not now, Quinn. I'm talking to your father. You just had to interfere.
Jake: Oh, yeah? Well, none of this would've happened if you hadn't left me with that... that nympho!

Jane's Addition [3.13]

[edit]
Jane: I have a good feeling about this multimedia thing, teammate.
Daria: That's the nastiest name anyone's ever called me.
Jane: If we get anything above a "C" I'll get off academic probation and not have to worry about taking language arts over... and Daria Morgendorffer does not get "Cs."
Daria: Well, I could make an exception.
Jane: Come on! This is going to be fun -- you doing words, me pictures. It's exciting.
Daria: Oh, yeah. Very exciting.
Jane: I know what would make it exciting.
Daria: We do the whole thing while walking over hot coals?
Jane: How about we add a little music to the mix?
Daria: What's so exciting about that?
Jane: What's exciting is the particular musician I have in mind.
Daria: Oh, no.
Jane: Come on, Daria. Trent'll love doing some computer music. It'll satisfy the secret techno dance freak hiding beneath that cool alternative exterior.
Daria: I don't think I want to meet that techno dance freak.
Jane: Sure you do. We'll ask him at the Mystik Spiral gig tonight.
Daria: This dance freak doesn't wear spandex, does he?

Trent: Listen, I got to get to rehearsal. I'm late.
Daria: How do you know? You don't wear a watch.
Trent: I'm always late. That's why I don't wear a watch. They depress me.
Daria: You know, Trent, somehow that makes perfect sense.
Trent: Sorry again about you know... everything.
Daria: That's okay.
Trent: All right then, Daria. [kisses Daria on the cheek and leaves] See you around.
Daria: See ya.
[edit]
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