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It was an unremarkable weekend morning in the burbs. Jane had some math homework that she could be doing, but Art had sounded its clarion call. Her angst-ridden soul needed to be put to canvas (it was mostly mauve and mustard yellow this week). As she was just getting into her groove, there was a commotion in the hallway. Her masterpiece would have to wait, sorry Art.
"... Mom, I mean, it seems like they just did this." pleaded a perpetually groggy voice.
"Trent, this could be a great opportunity to really get organized. Order your space, order your mind. Feng shui, sweetie." sing-songed Amanda.
"Yeah, everything's always been real freakin' ship shape around here. If that ship was The Titanic." Jane mumbled to herself upon hearing her mother's platitudes to her brother.
"And," Amanda Lane struck a much more serious tone, "it NEEDS to be cleaned, your father found a raccoon in the house last night!"
Trent, ever focused, could only respond "Whoa! Dad was home last night?"
"He must've had to leave for his flight to the Scablands before he could say 'Hi.'" said Jane to announce her presence.
"Jane, I'm glad to see you, dear. Would you help move your brother's things before the cleaning people get here?" asked Amanda in that mom way that wasn't really asking because you didn't really have the option of refusing.
"Power scrubbing your room again, huh?"
Trent let out a defeated sigh, "Yeah."
Meanwhile, at Maison Morgendorffer, Helen was contemplating her living room.
Maybe a few more splashes of color? Or they could move the TV over there and the couch over there? Dammit, maybe Ruth was right about the drapes.
A loud ring interrupted her mental fussing.
"Hello!" answered Helen in her distinct way, "Oh, hi Jane, yes she is. Daria, Jane's on the phone!" she yelled up the stairs.
The moodiest Morgendorffer picked up the call in her own impeccably decorated lair.
"Hey."
"Hola, amiga. You feel like doing some heavy lifting today?"
"Are you making a sculpture out of Kevin's skull?"
"Daria, you know well and good all the air in his head would make it float." Jane then disengaged sarcasm mode, "They're doing a deep clean of Trent's room and we could use some help moving all of his crap."
"Wouldn't that destroy a unique ecosystem?"
"Can I make my offer more enticing with pizza and the likelihood that most of our 'help' will involve sitting around making smartass commentary about Trent's possessions?"
"I'll be right over."
As Daria finished descending the stairs, she heard "... think I will do a little redecorating!" Helen turned to face her older daughter, "Daria, would you like to join Quinn and I for some home decor shopping?"
"As much as I'd love to oggle chaise lounges with my sister, I already promised to help Jane with her own furniture emergency today."
"Well then, don't be bitter that you didn't get a say in the new family room."
"Just as long as you keep Quinn from turning the place into Barbie's Dreamhouse."
"You mean as opposed to Morticia Addams's Dreamhouse?" quipped Quinn as she sat on the boring old sofa, applying some pre-shopping mascara. She snapped her compact closed, "Besides anything has got to be better than this... greige nightmare."
"Is it that bad?" sighed Helen.
"Mo-o-om, the only people that decorate like this are realtors so that everything will be bland enough so that the people buying the house can picture what the real decor will look like." explained Quinn matter-of-factly.
"Wow Quinn, even I can't argue with that. Anyway, I'm off to Jane's. If I'm not back by dinner, assume I've been crushed to death under an avalanche of dirty underwear and empty Doritos bags."
As Daria approached Casa Lane, she saw the cleaning company's van parked in front of the house. Several cables snaked their way from the van into the half-opened door. They must have brought out the heavy duty machinery when they found out where they were going. Daria let herself inside and headed upstairs. Over the whirring of the scrubbers she could hear, "Can't we throw some of this trash out?"
"Janey, that's my favorite white t-shirt."
"Trent, this hasn't been either of those for a very long time." Jane said, holding up a yellow hole-ridden rag.
"I guess- Oh, hey Daria." Trent greeted, carrying one end of a mattress.
"Hey." Jesse said from the other end. "We got all the stuff out. You and Jane can help us move it back in when they're done."
"The hazmat suits those guys are wearing are pretty cool. Maybe Spiral should do a song that's like 'your love is so toxic- AAHG!" Trent yelped as he dropped the box spring on his toes.
"That's your best song yet, Trent." said Jane only semi-sarcastically.
Helen and Quinn had their carts at the ready in the home section of Lawndale's most infamous bigbox store.
"Hmm, I think we should each pick out some accents we like", she looked up at a hideous, circular faux-tarnished gold mirror, perfect for her lawyer foyer, "and meet back here."
Before she had finished speaking, there was the squeak and rattle of a shopping cart zooming away and back.
"Okay, I'm done!" announced Quinn.
Helen's eyes widened upon scanning Quinn's cart: a hot pink lamp with fuzzy fringes, a framed BoyzRGuyz poster, an inflatable pink chair, a springy popcorn lamp shaped like Hello Kitty, plastic beaded curtains, and a print of a big-headed fairy saying a playfully sassy stock phrase.
"Now Quinn", Helen began with mild annoyance, "the family room is for the family, not just you."
"Well, Dad doesn't care as long as the couch is comfortable and Daria doesn't care as long as there's a TV in front of it. And my friends will love it!"
"And my friends or, God forbid, my colleagues will think I've gone crazy!"
"Didn't that happen already?" Quinn muttered under her breath before piping up to ask "Then can I get this stuff for my room?"
"Put it back, Quinn!" demanded Helen, annoyance having gone from mild to spicy.
Quinn turned in a huff to return her finds. The Morgendorffer living room would remain un-cute.
"So, having a rabies vector in the house was the last straw for Mom." Jane explained.
"What an alarmist, it's only 100% fatal." responded Daria, pawing through Trent's CD collection. He had a pretty extensive library. Everything you'd expect: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Smashing Pumpkins, and... Eiffel 65?
"Uhh!" screamed Trent, snatching the disk from Daria's hands, "This must be one of Wind or Summer's. You know, Janey, I think you're right, let's throw some of this stuff out." And he was off to dispose of the offending artifact.
"Now I wonder what's got him blue?" asked Jane in mock-confusion.
"Dabba dee." responded Daria.
"Speaking of lyrical genius, look what we have here." Jane picked up a battered notebook from a pile of filthy shorts.
"Oh, God."
"Wanna sneak a peek?" asked Jane, already flipping through pages, "Check this out-"
"If it's about the heat-proof kitchen glove, I've already wept at its stunning poetry."
Before they could be exposed to anymore of Trent's tortured soul and metaphors, they realized the droning whir of machinery had stopped.
"Alright, we'll send you the bill in the mail." said a hazmatted man while another hauled their tools back down to their van.
"Sure, Marty. See you next year, huh?" Trent said casually.
Marty shuddered "Man, sometimes I envy my buddies in crime scene cleanup." and briskly exited Casa Lane.
"So, you want all your stuff back where it usually is?" Jane asked her brother.
Trent and Jesse awkwardly blocked the door to the newly sanitized room. "Um, I guess, but..."
"But?"
"But, um, I kinda wanted to do a little painting in there first."
"The perfect activity to do after it's just been cleaned." remarked Daria.
"And where the hell do you think you're getting the paint?" Jane asked, arms crossed.
Trent made his best puppydog face at his sister. His best goateed, stoned puppydog face.
"Ugh, fine. But you have to use that cheap crap that grandma gets me for Christmas. You need any of my artistic guidance?"
"No, we're good. Right, Jesse?"
"Yeah, why don't you two get lunch or something?"
"Fine with me. Pizza fumes instead of paint fumes." Jane answered before her and Daria headed to the kitchen to order.
Helen massaged her temple, "Alright, how about we agree on a main piece and pick out accoutrements to compliment that?"
"Just like how to coordinate a perfect outfit." said Quinn, knowing this had to be obvious to all but the most aesthetically- challenged. "I think you'd like that", she pointed to a beige loveseat, "with that", she gestured to an even beiger end table, "and this." she picked up the beigest lamp.
"Why Quinn, I think your tastes are maturing-"
"I just picked whatever looked like it belonged in a dentist's waiting room."
Helen deflated. Did her sense of decor really embody the look of a dentist's office? No, it was more like it belonged in... a law office! Her professional determination and work ethic was so strong it had infiltrated her personal tastes! She felt reinvigorated! Imagine if Eric and the other partners came over to her house and saw that she was so dedicated it even rubbed off on her home decor!
Daria and Jane sat in the Lane kitchen, chowing down on a greasy pizza that had been speedily delivered by a familiar delivery guy. He was even speedier to leave, babbling about seeing men in hazmat suits, which could only mean that "they" had crashed and the government knew there were biohazards and toxic chemicals "just like in Flatwoods".
"Think we should save some for the guys?" asked Daria.
"Why not? They worked hard today, I think they've earned their artificial preservatives." Jane opined.
"Okay." Trent announced, marching into the kitchen with Jesse, a few stray paint flecks on their faces, "It's ready."
The four headed up, Trent proudly presented his room, Daria and Jane entered, and
"Wow, an empty room." deadpanned Daria.
Trent smiled slyly, "Look up."
The girls craned their necks and saw that in the smack dab of the ceiling, was Mystik Spiral's logo. Surrounding it were various other phrases that made zero sense to someone not in the know and little sense to those that were.
"It's all the other names we thought of changing Mystik Spiral to. It symbolizes that, like, no matter what we're called, we'll always be the same Spiral." Trent explained.
"Yeah, like, the more things stay the same, the more they stay the same." Jesse mangled the saying.
Among the potential names was "Something Something Explosion".
"At first, I couldn't remember what I wanted to be before 'explosion', but then 'something something' really grew on me." said Trent.
"Helpful Corn?" read Daria.
"Yeah, yeah, you were there for that one, Daria!" reminisced Jesse, "Remember? When we were gonna go to Alternapalooza and you had to pee behind those trees?"
Daria groaned.
"We didn't go with that one 'cuz we were worried people would think we were trying to start beef with Korn." Trent said.
"Yeah, like, if we called ourselves 'Helpful Corn' that meant we thought they were, like, 'Unhelpful Corn'." Jesse elaborated.
"Mmm, Korn'd beef." Daria monotoned.
"'Blisterine'?" even Jane couldn't remember that one.
"We only called ourselves that for one show. We even gave out bottles of mouthwash we made ourselves with tap water and some leaves we found." explained Trent.
"Some 'leaves' that you 'found', huh?" Jane leaned toward Trent, suspicious.
"Come on, Janey, I wouldn't just hand out weed. For free." reassured Trent.
"People at the club said it really hurt their mouths." Jesse recalled.
"Then I guess it did what it said." Daria could barely imagine drinking allegedly known substances at that place, let alone mystery fluid.
They were regaled with the tales of more of the ridiculous, speculative band names as they put Trent's furniture back into place. Despite the exhaustion from work they were hoping they wouldn't put in, Jane walked Daria home. At least the evening breeze might sweep away some of the sweat they were drenched in.
"Let's see if my mom could stop Quinn from turning the living room into a Lisa Frank binder."
Daria slowly opened the door and revealed the interior looking as it did when she left, save for Quinn pouting and Helen yapping on her phone.
"I'd love to throw a dinner party, Eric! I think you'll feel quite at home. Thursday would be fantastic!"
Daria and Jane turned to each other. The bespectacled friend echoed, "The more things stay the same, the more they stay the same."