Burger Tag sucked. It sucked so much that the suck carried around all the way across the world and actually started blowing.

-o-o-o-

The bus ride to school the next day was oddly quiet, as both Beavis and Butt-head were far too busy catching up on all the sleep they missed the night before. They'd spent their time debating extremely important matters like which bands were and weren't cool, which got them into a fight; what the best sexual experience would be; and what would be the best crime to commit to get Todd's attention and possible initiation into his gang. They spent hours watching music videos and talking as they often did, but this was one of those rare instances where they were so engrossed in the conversation that they actually forgot to go to sleep.

When the bus stopped, the jolt from the brakes woke Butt-head up and he had to smack Beavis to get him to do the same. Mumbling, groaning, really any type of complaining there was to do, the two stepped down the aisle. And the stairs. And the curb. And more stairs. And then they went straight into their classroom, eager enough to quiz Daria on her knowledge of skin and the discoloration thereof to deal with the pain of public education.

Lucky for the demented duo, today was a movie day. The class was set to learn about the functions of the endocrine system and much to everyone's dismay, yes—there was a worksheet to fill out. Beavis and Butt-head, of course, pushed theirs to the side and forgot about it until the opportune moment to ask Daria about what they had seen the day before.

"Hey, Dia—" Butt-head stopped himself. She'd probably ignore him if he chose not to address her by her actual name. That would suck. "Uh, Daria." The girl turned her head to acknowledge that she was listening, but her pencil stayed over her worksheet in case an answer came along. "Hey, c'mere, we hafta ask you something."

"We're in the middle of the video," she responded, lowering her eyebrows.

"It's like, important."

"Look, I'll talk to you after—" she paused, groaning when she missed an answer. "After the video, okay?" She turned back towards the screen and left Butt-head to stare into nothingness for the remainder of the film. Beavis had been long gone within the confines of sleep, and wouldn't even wake up when Mr. Van Driessen flicked the lights back on. However, Daria was still in her seat, eyes down at her paper, head not moving even once. She said she would come here, why wasn't she doing it? It had been minutes. A lot of them.

Butt-head, irritated, flicked his pencil at her and hit her right on the back of the head. It didn't hurt, as the pencil had lost momentum mid-air, but it still hit her.

Now Daria, also irritated, turned around and gave them the death glare. "Will you hold on? I'm trying to fill in the answer that you made me miss, which you're also making me miss again. Give me five minutes and I'll tell you everything you ever wanted to know—so it shouldn't take very long."

Butt-head scoffed and didn't even care to come up with a rude response. I mean, this whole bruise-from-the-mouth thing; this was pretty important. Daria just didn't understand.

You know…if Butt-head ever sighed, then no one was ever around or awake to hear it. But that's exactly what he did as he waited for Daria to supply him with some damn information. He looked over to Beavis, still passed out on his desk and his paper dangerously close to falling to the ground. Butt-head raised a hand so that he could smack him awake, but Daria called his name before he could follow through. Instead, his hand just kind of sailed past his desk and the gust of air knocked Beavis' paper to the ground.

The girl marched up to Butt-head's desk, hands promptly at her side, and asked what the hell it was that he was just so eager to learn.

"Where do bruises come from?" he asked, followed by a short chuckle.

Daria didn't think it was possible for her shoulders to stoop lower than they had, but they did. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Uh. No."

"Oh, god. Well, a bruise is what happens when a blood vessel is ruptured, but the skin isn't broken. It usually results in discoloration that fades over time."

"Uhhh…the King's English, please?"

"It's like getting a cut through everything but your skin."

"Okay but like, can you get a bruise from your mouth?"

"You mean like a hickey?"

"What the hell is a hickey?"

Daria could not believe her ears. For someone who knew pretty much every sexual term that one could create a term for, this little virgin didn't know what a hickey was? After a few moments of thoughtful processing, she realized hey, it's not his fault. She supposed hickeys were a bit more personal than the blowjobs and breasts they were probably used to seeing in their spare time, so she tried not to give him too hard a time.

Holding back a grin, Daria explained. "I'll tell you what. You guys have enough bruises to last a pro-wrestler a lifetime. Why don't you go home, try to form yourselves a hickey or two, and if you come back with one, I'll letcha know if it's real."

"Damn it, you could've just said no!" he responded, annoyed that most of the information had gone over his head. A hickey was probably just a fancy college-kid word for bruise. What, so he and Beavis had to figure out a way to give themselves hickeys? Fine. No problem. They'd go home and be covered with hickeys the next day; it wouldn't be hard. That'd show Daria.

-o-o-o-

breakin' the law breakin' the law