He was in metal shop, one of Bell's "burnouts," and he loved to make bongs, roach clips, power hitters and big elaborate hookahs. His main purpose in attending dear old Lawndale High was the "high" part. Rick Zavaleta strutted down the pristine halls of Lawndale High, checking out the girls and giving all the guys the fish eye. Wondering when he was finally going to disintegrate all together, she decided to get some more health insurance. Rubbing her temples, Helen thanked God that they hadn't had sons. Toughen up Jakey! Real men don't cry, Jakey! Ghaaaa! I WAS ONLY SIX, YOU ROTTEN OLD BASTARD! BURN IN HELL! BURN IIIIN HEEEEELLLLLL!" Hard, tight packed slush-balls, mercilessly hitting me! Then when I was crying, he stuffed the freezing cold things down my pants and back! Can't take it, Jakey? Let me rub some in your face, Jakey. We ought to move somewhere that has a real winter. First snowfall of the winter, first snowfall of the winter, that's got it. Dammit! I hate the freezing blue shitty ocean! He just picked me up by the back of the shirt and threw me in, right off of the pier, shoes and all! I almost drowned! He said it was the best way to learn. Jake was a competitive soul, and it galled him. She'd out-earned him again, in spite of his hard work, and it had hurt his pride. Get control of your anger!" Helen sighed. Why won't he hang out and party with us anymore?" Max had forgotten what he was talking about. You know, that girl that Trent always talks about." "Daria who?" Jesse took a bong hit of his own. "Hey, dude, wasn't that Daria's dad?" Max, steering the tank with his knee, coughed, and exhaled a thick stream of blue smoke. He stuck his head out the window and shouted, "Damned punks, get a job!" Jake, cut off in mid argument, glared back at Helen, and barely missed sideswiping an oncoming van that was trailing a cloud of smoke. "These Cloverdale school shootings just have everyone feeling too paranoid, including you." Helen stared at him, silently daring him to bring it up again. What are her qualifications, anyway? Her first name is probably 'Doctor.'" Helen lowered her voice, soothingly. She's not a ticking bomb, no mater what Dr.
I'm not going to force Daria into therapy. "Oh, for Christ's sake, Jake, just drop it.
DARIA RESTORATION PROJECT SPECIALS FULL
Why is she so different from Quinn? She's almost eighteen, has no boyfriend, hardly any friends, no outside interests, just mopes around in that padded cell full of fake bones and writes that violent-" "Because she's a writer, Jake." Helen shook her head at his lack of understanding. He felt like he'd gotten a telling point in.
"You didn't read that stuff, Helen! Melody Powers kills everyone! Why would she write something like that?" Jake looked over at his wife. She wished that she could get him to hire an assistant and take it easy for a while, or at least drop some of his less profitable clients. The stress of managing so many different contracts was really tearing at him. I know what that ridiculous radio therapist said, but Daria isn't on drugs, isn't a lunatic and doesn't have a violent bone in her body." Helen looked at her husband, worriedly. THIS STORY IS VIOLENT AND CONTAINS FOUL LANGUAGE! It may however be copied, distributed and posted freely in unaltered form, so long as the author's name and email address remain on the work. This story is copyright 7/2000 by Nemo Blank and is not to be sold or profited from.
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