Ten minutes of snide commentary and gustatorial abuse later, Jane finally pushed her lunch tray. "Urg, I don't know how you can do it, Morgendorffer. This mystery meat is institutionalized torture; emphasis on the 'institutional', of course" she panned, gesturing to include the whole of Lawndale High.
"Our textbooks don't cover the Geneva Conventions, so why should the nutritional guidelines?" Daria shot back. "But in my case, years of Mom's microwave lasagna and Dad's culinary experiments have built up my tolerance. Pizza Prince after school then?"
"Never thought I'd see the day anyone could out stomach one of the latchkey Lanes. Sure, I'll meet you there," responded Jane, standing up. "I'm going to go get a quick run to unwind before math."
"You exercise too much, Lane; it'll kill you yet."
"Heh, we'll see who's laughing come PE, 6th period," Jane drawled with an evil grin. "I hear Ms. Morris is planning another of her special 'focus' events, complete with mandatory volunteering."
Thump. Daria let her head fall to the table, narrowly missing her plate of...um. Well, missing her plate, anyways. "Kill me now."
"And deny myself the fun of seeing you suffer and die later?" Jane asked with a smirk. "'Til then," she said jauntily over her shoulder as she turned to leave.
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