Then it's unanimous.
Under no circumstances will the fashion club
accept applicants with stubby fingertips.
Stacy, what is the next membership qualification
on our agenda?
Weight guidelines, unless you want
to talk about something else.
If it's all right with you, Stacy,
I'd prefer to conduct this meeting in an orderly fashion.
That said, I move we scale back
the number of allowable pounds by three.
Um, Sandy, I think it's a really cute idea and all,
but it might make it really hard to find new members.
Obviously I'm the only one in this room concerned
with the burgeoning obesity problem
tearing apart the very fabric of our land.
Not the fabric.
If I must stand alone
in setting exemplary standards for others to follow,
so be it.
You're all overruled.
Next topic.
That's mine. Give it back.
Forget it, jerko.
Um, the next topic is eyelash density.
You suck. You suck.
Excuse me.
Oh. Ow.
Shut up, you little brats.
Give me the remote.
Oh.
Snap!
My leg.
It's broken.
Wow, you were right.
There really are more zoo zoo drops in a box
than juicy Joes.
I'm just grateful for the opportunity to enlighten.
Now pay up.
Give me a chance to win my money back first?
See Kevin over there?
I bet this five that within ten minutes,
he'll stun and amaze his friends by crushing a can to his head.
Nah, it's more of a "covering his eyes with pepperonis
and pretending he's blind" kind of a day.
You're on.
I'm blind. I'm blind.
Whoo-hoo. All right.
Yeah.
So many talents.
He really should run off and join the circus.
Or just run off.
And the doctor said Sandy's leg will be in a cast
for at least a month.
Poor Sandy.
Crutches don't go with anything.
That's the same thing those land mine victims
are always complaining about.
Damn it!
This article says
restaurants won't serve meat rare anymore.
Some crap about gastroenterological disorders.
But, Jake, you order well done anyway.
Once in a while, a man wants a slab of bloody red steak!
Isn't anybody listening?
Oh, hi, Quinn. Didn't hear you come in.
Fine; If no one cares,
then I'll just go to my room.
Quinn, come back.
Of course we want to hear about Stacy.
Sandy!
And then I said, "you can't wear sneakers to chez Pierre."
And he said he didn't know that.
You know, a guy once took me to a chain restaurant.
No. Tell us about it.
Really?
Hello?
Sandy, how are you feeling?
How do you think I'm feeling?
I can't even give myself a pedicure
with this stupid cast.
So then it's good that you can't go out.
Are you sure you don't want
to have this meeting at your house?
Yes, I'm sure,
unless it's too confusing for you
to follow what I'm saying from this speakerphone.
Don't be silly, Sandy.
Silly?
Gee, Quinn,
is there anything else you'd like to call me
while I'm not there to defend myself in person?
What I meant was--
Excuse me. I have a call.
It's cashmans.
I'll have to call you back.
Poor Sandy.
Too bad she's not here.
I've really missed her these past few weeks.
Uh, yeah.
Yeah.
Brittany, would you care to tell us
some of the factors leading up to the great depression?
Um, when people realized they had no money,
they got really depressed?
Brittany, explain something.
Do you perhaps harbor a powerful phobia
that it might actually hurt to think?
Um, I think that's pronounced phee-bia.
Would anyone else care to broadcast
their complete lack of education?
Bet you ten he'll say "imbeciles."
I'm gonna go with "morons."
I see.
Perhaps it's my own stupidity
that allows me to think I could actually impart wisdom
to a bunch of...
Say it. Starts with an "m."
Imbecilic morons!
You know, these little bets have cost you 40 clams so far.
If I had a self-image,
I'd think you were bribing me to be your friend.
Bet you the whole 40 I'm not.
Nice try.
Wait. Clams?
Guys, guys, Jackie is wearing green shoes with yellow socks.
I never did like her.
I don't believe it.
I know. I couldn't believe it either.
No. I mean, it's Sandy.
She's come back to school.
And she's...
Faaaaaat.
Gee, Tiffany, why don't you take a picture?
It'll last longer.
But I don't have a camera.
I mean, you can stop staring at me.
We weren't staring.
We were, um, looking at your skirt.
It looks really cute over that cast.
You can hardly tell you've gained...
A cast.
Hi, guys.
Quinn, you spoke to us.
Can I walk you to class?
No, me. No, me.
Come on, Jeffy. Guys, look who's back.
Sandy.
This can't be happening.
I'm ruined.
Why me? Oh, god, why me?
Sandy wasn't in Mr. O'Neill's class either,
so she must have left school.
Gee, I hope it doesn't have anything to do with--
well, you know.
Not that she looks that bad.
I know; She looks really good for a fat person.
She could inspire fat people.
Stacy, I don't think we should use the "f" word
when talking about Sandy.
Right; She could inspire
the thinly challenged everywhere.
Like, travel around the world in a winnebago
and show people you can be fat-- differently weighted
and still have great color sense.
Um, Stacy, hold that thought.
Sandy.
Sure, I'll be right over.
Quinn? Quinn?
But, Quinn, I didn't say "fat."
Quinn, you're so lucky you have your thinness.
Oh, Sandy, you're not that not that thin.
It's sweet of you to say that, Quinn.
Thank you for being my best friend.
Sandy, i--
and as my best friend,
I want you to be the first to know that out of respect
to the fashion club's stringent obesity policy,
I am resigning the presidency.
Sandy, you can't resign.
Please, Quinn, this is painful enough as it is.
All I ask is that after you assume the presidency,
you'll try to remember me as I used to be.
Me? President?
I'm just grateful I'm being replaced
by someone who truly excels in accessorizing.
Sandy, I could never replace you.
Really? Of course not, you're--
Quinn, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me,
refusing the presidency
out of respect for our friendship.
Uh, what I mean is,
I couldn't do the job just like you.
You don't have to explain.
If I live another 20 years,
I'll never be able to express the gratitude I feel
for your unwavering devotion.
I humbly accept your resignation.
Um, don't mention it.
Meet the psychic Nazi hunter
who says the fuehrer has been reincarnated
as a madcap leggy blonde.
There's something about Hitler tonight
on sick, sad world.
How much do I owe you now?
Still 40.
Clams? Simoleons.
Try to keep up.
You're not gonna believe what happened.
You're right. Save your breath.
Sandy resigned from the fashion club because she's fat,
and then I had to resign to show Sandy my support,
although I didn't really mean to resign.
And now I don't know what's going to happen
because there's no way there could even be a fashion club
without me and Sandy.
Um, Quinn, it's me, daria.
Did I hear right, the death of the fashion club?
Then at last, the people shall be free.
Not likely.
That club's like a hydra.
You cut off one airhead, two more grow back.
Hmm, care to put a wager on that,
say, 40 piasters?
Make it spondulicks.
Damn it, daria.
Special orders my foot.
Medium, medium, medium.
Our freedom of choice is gone.
Quinn, dad's here,
and he wants to hear all about Sandy.
Before we begin the meeting, I have an announcement to make.
Sandy has resigned from the fashion club.
Quinn, that's terrible.
Not that we shouldn't respect her decision.
Yeah, that's awful.
Oh, well.
She says she can't even come back to school
because it hurts too much to walk in her cast.
So if you're the vice president,
and Sandy's resigned,
then you must be the new president.
Congratulations.
Well, actually--
so what's the first item of business, president Quinn,
the best president ever?
Long live the Quinn.
Hey.
Guys, stop it.
I'm resigning too.
What? Oh, no.
Was it something I said, something I did?
No, Stacy.
See, I kind of had to promise Sandy I'd resign.
Tiffany, I guess you're the president now,
and, Stacy, you're vice president.
Quinn, you can't go.
What will we do without you?
You're gonna carry on the fashion club mission.
You'll stop the vertically challenged
from wearing really fat stripes,
point out icky fibers to icky fibers wearers,
and fight frosted shadows wherever you go,
unless it's at a costume party.
You'll hold yourselves up to the highest standards possible,
no ankle boot too pointy,
no chartreuse too chartreuse-y,
and no mock turtleneck too mocky.
And finally, you will never, ever date
anyone less attractive than you are,
although equally attractive is okay.
My sources tell me that, though diminished by half,
the soldiers of style battle on.
Huh? The fashion club still exists.
Give me my 40 George ws.
Daria, please.
These girls aren't the swiftest boats in the current.
Give them some time to realize that they've broken up.
You're not trying to weasel out of paying me?
No, just making sure you don't think
I'm buying your friendship.
Mmm.
Come on, Tiffany. You're the president.
Start the meeting and pick a topic already.
Topic?
You know, like Sandy used to.
She'd say something like nail decals,
and Quinn would say they're passe,
and Sandy would ask Quinn if she knows the difference
between passe and retro,
and Quinn would explain what she meant to say,
and then Sandy would move on to the next topic.
Hmm, topic.
I know.
How about fashion?
Um, maybe if we tried begging Quinn to come back.
But, Quinn, you have to return to the fashion club.
We need you.
Really need you.
Guys, I would if I could, but I can't
'cause I promised Sandy.
But she doesn't have to know.
Please?
Okay, I'll think about it.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Quinn.
Or is it 16 times to the right?
Brittany, let me ask a hypothet--
make-believe question.
What would you do if you found out Angie
went on a date with Kevin?
But Angie would never do that to me.
She's my friend.
And friends don't go behind other friends' backs,
do they?
I knew this girl who went behind her friend's back
and felt so guilty about it,
she ended up in an insane asylum,
and they made her wear drawstring pants
and a big plastic bracelet.
Serves her right, the backstabber.
Anyhoo, thanks for straightening that out for me.
Ooh, I can't believe kevy cheated on me with Angie.
Wait till I get my hands on him.
Stacy, I want to come back.
But I just can't wear drawstring pants.
Brr. What?
I mean, I can't betray Sandy.
You'll just have to find some new members.
Beep!
Oh, god, what if that's her?
Got to run.
I guess we're on our own.
Anyway, I thought up some topics,
if that's okay with you.
Sure.
Let's begin with the debate on crew necks.
Now, I think people with long necks
look really good in them
because they make their necks look long.
Do you think I look good in crew necks?
Of course. You look good in anything.
But what about the color?
I think I prefer pastels.
Do you think I look good in pastels?
Um, yes, Tiffany.
Anyway, I don't care how long her neck is.
I can't believe she dated Matt Damon.
Do you think I'd look good with Matt Damon?
Quinn's right.
We need more members.
You can't let Gina into the fashion club.
Her teeth are thick.
Heidi with the clogs?
Gee, I guess there really aren't any suitable girls at school.
Maybe the club should break up.
Stacy, stop crying.
Stacy.
Ice cream out of the carton?
You're gonna end up like Sandy.
I suppose your friendship is over
now that she can't squeeze into a size zero.
Daria, I am not shallow.
Besides, it's not like Sandy's gotten ugly or anything.
Wow, I've really misjudged you.
I never realized you'd be willing to sacrifice
your own popularity for the sake of friendship.
What do you mean?
Well, you and I both know
how society discriminates against the overweight,
even to the point of shunning them.
The old Quinn might even have done it herself.
But this new Quinn,
willing to stick by her friend no matter how heavy she gets
even if it costs you your own status,
wow.
Simply, wow.
Um, yeah.
Some more shallow friend
might try to make Sandy lose weight
so she could rejoin the fashion club
and return life to normal, but not you.
You accept her as she is.
Kudos to you, Quinn morgendorffer.
Uh, thanks.
Got to go.
Sandy, open up.
It's an emergency.
Quinn.
I told you little creeps, no visitors.
Go ahead. Laugh at my disfigurement.
I would never laugh at you, Sandy.
Besides, you're not disfigured.
You're beautiful on the inside.
That's all that counts.
Then what are you doing here?
I'm gonna make you fit to go out in public again.
What?
Now that your cast is off,
I'm here to help you lose weight.
Oh, Quinn, can't you see that it's too late?
My life is over.
Sandy, you're not 30.
Now, let's get started.
I know it's hard to believe,
but I once weighed over 100 pounds.
What's wrong, Sandy?
Nothing.
It's just--oh, Quinn.
I love you so much.
Oh, Sandy.
I love you too.
Quinn's right.
There just aren't any girls up to the fashion club's standards.
If only looks weren't everything.
I know; Too bad we can't let boys in.
Tiffany, that's a great idea.
What? About the boys.
Boys? Where?
Hey, guys, are you doing anything this afternoon?
'Cause Tiffany and I would really like it
if you could come over to my house for sodas.
Quinn'll be there, right? Yeah, Quinn.
Uh, no.
There'll be a free form discussion on swimwear.
A discussion?
Um, I mean, we'd want to show some girls in bikinis.
Babes in bikinis. Babes in bikinis?
All right. We're there.
So Jamie, Jeffy, and Joey
are going to Stacy's to talk style.
Jocks on frocks--
sounds like a fashion club meeting to me.
Trust me. It'll be the last.
Uh-huh.
Care to double our bet?
It's your wampum.
Prepare to kiss your moolah good-bye.
Let's see the bikinis, man. Yeah, bikinis.
Um, that's not till later.
Right now, we're gonna discuss tank tops.
Tanks are cool.
Yeah, like in that movie, world war blood.
Um, I didn't see that movie.
What color were the tank tops?
Green. What do you think?
You want the enemy to spot your tank?
Well, yeah.
That's kind of the whole idea.
But what about the element of surprise?
You surprise them by looking really hot.
He's talking about war.
So am I.
No, you know, conceal and surprise.
You think I need concealer?
Um, where are the bikinis anyway?
Yeah, bikinis. Yeah, where are the bikinis?
Right here.
Whoo-hoo. Excellent.
Which fabric do you like best?
Fabric?
We've got to go... Do something.
Yeah. Yeah.
Yeah, prior engagement.
The fashion club is falling apart.
What are we gonna do?
Hmm, I do need concealer.
You make me say
hoo-hoo
you make me say
la-la-la-la-la
from dusk to dawn
you turn me on
Can't... i...rest?
Did Cleopatra rest when she was inventing mascara?
Did nefer-iti rest when she was posing for statues?
Did Helen of Troy rest when she was doing
whatever it was she did?
Beauty never rests.
Now, swim, you cow, swim.
What?
Sorry. Coach talk.
You think we should tell her it's easier to speak
if you open your mouth?
Stacy, what time is the fashion club meeting today?
There is no meeting.
How come? How come?
Because I can't take it anymore.
I'm sick of doing all the work while you just sit there.
I tried my best,
and even if it wasn't as good as Sandy's or Quinn's,
a chain is only as strong as its weakest round thingy.
And you refuse to lift one fricking finger.
I'm through running the fashion club all by myself--
While you stare in the mirror
and talk about yourself
and i--i--i quit!
Hmm, maybe I should quit too.
You saw it here first.
The fashion club is dead.
Pay me my 80 smackers.
Don't look now,
but I think the guy with the balloon animals is back.
It's Sandy.
And she's thin.
>> You make me say
hoo-hoo
From dusk to dawn, you turn me on
Then it's agreed.
Applicants can't have stubby fingertips
or nails shorter than 1/4 of an inch.
Oh, definitely. Oh, you're so right.
Weight requirement.
I move that we review maximum allowable weights
on a case-by-case basis.
That's a great idea, Sandy.
Yeah, absolutely. Yeah.
Let's move on to eyelashes.
Um, Quinn,
as president of the fashion club,
I believe it is my job to decide on the topic
for membership guidelines,
unless there was a change of protocol in my absence
that allows the vice president to switch topics at whim.
But, Sandy, how would I know that?
I resigned after you resigned because you were,
well, you know, not yourself,
not that I wanted either of us to resign.
Remember?
Right.
Moving on.
I say no one with a low eyelash count
is to be admitted, no exceptions.
But, Sandy, with all the thickening mascaras available,
you can always make it look like you have more eyelashes
than you really do.
So is the actual number of lashes really that important?
Quinn, are you proposing artifice?
I agree with Quinn.
Me too.
Fine.
But any eyelash-deficient applicants
must agree to wear mascara at all times.
Finally, a place that still respects
good old freedom of choice.
Behold the beef and cake triple Patty burger,
served medium rare, just like jakey ordered.
Beef and cake?
I guess their refrigeration problems must be over.
Damn gastroenterological disorders!
La-la, la, la-la
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la, la, la