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720.

Here we are, a week later. But I needed to sort out my thoughts.

I will leave all the general postmortems and feelings about the show and about it ending for another post. This will be a recap. The last one. I feel some kind of a way about this, too.

Goodbye, Riverdale. As series finales go, this one... wasn't. Not really. It was a season 7 finale. With a macabre doze of "and here's how all of your beloved characters died." It took a form of looking back/taking stoke, yes, but, again, only for season 7. What happened in the other 6 didn't matter in the end. Tiny bits of it got a shout-out in a truly epically terrible Archie poem. It's kind of fitting for what this show has become.

It doesn't mean it wasn't a little bit effective at making me feel something. Even if it was mostly nostalgia and sadness for the tremendous wasted potential. Still, I got sad and slightly misty-eyed here and there.

Anyway. Good news: There's an afterlife. Bad news: You get to spend eternity as an anxious, hormonal teenager. With the people you went to high school with. Like, all of them. Forever. You get to be a high school junior. Forever. You get homework. Forever...

Follow, for the last time, for the most important information we were all dying to learn: the fate of Uncle Frank. Under the cut.

Apologies for the length of this. It's the last one, it got away from me.

We open to the sound of Jughead's narration and his clicking typewriter. (It's an interesting sound, suggestive). And to the sight of a yellow house with white trim, gently swathed in pink tree blossoms. Jughead (narrating): Sixty seven years have gone by. It's the present day. Since our last chapter, teenagers have become adults. (I should hope so, in 67 years).

We pan into an aggressively old-fashioned room. We are talking wood panelling, dark, flowery wallpaper, tasseled lamps (I have counted 10 lamps in this room, including wall scones, so far, uh?)... And if you judge by the nicknacks and other decor, it belongs to someone still in high school in the 1950s. All the photos are high-school photos (except for Polly Amorous, which is also from that time). There are posters from sock-hop dances. There's an actually, honest-to-goodness pennant with "team spirit" on the wall... This is the 86-year-old Betty's room... Are they trying to visually telegraph to us that she is senile?

Jughead (narrating): ...got married, raised children of their own. Many have taken their last breaths. This story tonight is about saying goodbye to a town that was once lost in time. (We pan to a Welcome to Riverdale postcard). But also goodbye to the people who once lived in this town. It starts near the end, with a woman named Elizabeth Cooper. She is 86 years old now, resting in a small room in her granddaughter's house.

We see 86-year-old Betty (they found an actress who, alarmingly, looks like a weird amalgamation of aged-up Polly and Alice), sitting in bed, reading a newspaper. I desperately need to know (and the damn show won't tell me) if the granddaughter just assumed her grandma would want this room decorated like that? Based on the reminiscences she's heard? Did she, like, went through Betty's "old stuff" closet and found all these photos and paraphernalia... and lamps? Is the entire house like that or did she track down the old-timey wallpaper on Etsy specifically for this room? I really, really need to know! I also really want to know where the daughter is. Is she alive? Does she live too far away? Why is Betty living with the granddaughter and not with her? (Yeah, we are not gonna know any of it.).

Jughead (narrating): She checks the obituaries every day. I see. So, if she does, and this is not a senile moment where she's been checking the same edition of this newspaper every day for TWO YEARS, we got ourselves another trademark "Riverdale Writers Can't Count or Remember Their Own Established Shit" moment. Because the headline Betty's looking at reads "Jughead Jones, Prolific Editor of Jughead's Madhouse Magazine, Dies at 84." If it's this day's paper, that makes Jughead two years younger than Betty. Which we know he was not. If this is a two-year-old newspaper, that makes this scene even more dark and depressing than it already is.

Granddaughter: You knew him in high school, didn't you, Grandma Betty? Seems like he was an interesting person. Octogenarian Betty: He was. We get a brief flash of Jughead in the 1950s whoopee cap and a blue S T-shirt.

Memoriiiieeeessss...

Octogenarian Betty: We all were. We had such marvelous adventures. Oh, you would't have believed it, Alice. Okay, one: her granddaughter is named Alice. I am assuming the daughter was pandering. Two: No, Betty, she won't believe it. No one who haven't sat through 7 seasons of Riverdale would. Octogenarian Betty: Well, that's it. That means I am the last of them. Alice, honey. I want to go back. To Riverdale. One last time, before it's too late. I am forgetting more and more every day, and I want to go back before I forget everything. Granddaughter promises that, if Octogenarian Betty feels well enough tomorrow, they will take a trip to Riverdale. Octogenarian Betty falls asleep with Riverdale 1957 Year Book.

She wakes up when a night light shaped like an angel—the same one from her childhood—goes on and there's a sound of a little bell... (The "little Betty is scared of the dark" night light: nostalgic and kind of creepy.). Betty looks toward the foot of her bed and there sits OG Jughead, beanie and all.

The lamp count in this room is now up to 13. This has got to be some inside joke from the props department.

Octogenarian Betty (acting like seeing teenaged Jughead from the original timeline is perfectly normal. Feels like it maybe isn't the first time she has visions/dreams/hallucinations of him?): Ah. I must have fallen asleep. I was going through our Yearbook. Trying to remember... Jughead: Remember what? Octogenarian Betty: Oh, everything, I suppose. I am going to Riverdale tomorrow. My granddaughter is taking me. Going through these pictures... I just wish we could go back to... How it was. How we were. Jughead: You can, Betty. You can pick a day and I'll take you. Though it might be painful for you. Octogenarian Betty: Why should it be painful? Jughead: Because you won't just be living that day. You'll be seeing yourself live it. Octogenarian Betty: Still. If you say we can... I want to go back to the day I missed. The day everyone got their yearbook, senior year. I had the mumps and I had to stay home, and... I never got my yearbook signed. I always regretted that. Jughead: Then we'll start in the morning. You'll just have to walk through that door. (A door appears that didn't seem to be there before, marked "Betty's bedroom."). And you'll have your day.

Next we see Betty, not Octogenarian but 1950s one, walk into the 1950s Betty's bedroom. 21st-century Jughead with the beanie is sitting on the window pane. Betty: Oh my goodness, it's my room! It's exactly how I remember it! Hello, room! (Looks at herself at the full-length mirror) Is that what I looked like? Jughead (with hearts eyes) nods.Betty: There were so many things I wanted to change about myself back then. Why? I was perfect! Me: You also hated that word once upon a time, with good reason, but okay. Betty: We were all perfect! My window! How many sunrises I've seen out of this window! How many moons. (Sees Archie in his room) How many times have I looked out of this window into Archie's? Jughead: In the thousands, at least. Me: I mean, that's what you see any time you look out of this particular window, but sure. Jughead: Archie is about to have a big talk with his mom, about what he's going to do after graduation.

We switch to Archie, which is weird. It's the only scene in this "Betty-hallucinates-a-day" episode that doesn't have Betty in it. Who's hallucinating this one? Anyway, Archie is perusing another pamphlet called "Building America's Highways" (his whole life is shaped by advertising pamphlets he reads, in this timeline or the previous ones). Mary comes in. Archie: Mom, I don't want to be a pest, but I gotta let Vic know by tomorrow if I'll be joining his crew on Monday. Mary: It's just doesn't make sense to me! Driving around the country, with some dusty road crew? Pouring concrete, digging ditches... Archie: Well, it's like President Eisenhower said on the news, I'll be building the highways that help connect people and places, from coast to coast, all the way to California. It'll give me something to write about. Mary: But you've written so many wonderful poems here, in Riverdale. Me: Oh, no. Archie: Mom, it's only gonna be three months. And then I'll be back. Mary: No, Archie. No. You'll take one look at the Pacific Ocean and forget all about Riverdale. Archie: Forget Riverdale? Fat chance! This will always be my home. Our home! Mary: You are just like your father. He was full of wanderlust. He always dreamt about settling in the West. He never did. But maybe you will. Anyway, Mary gives her reluctant blessing and they hug.

Betty: I don't remember what happened to Mrs. Andrews. Jughead: She bought a dress shop. Another one? Or did she not own the one she worked in all season? Unimportant details to these writers, I'm sure.Jughead: And then one day a woman named Brooke came in. They started a conversation, and then, a few weeks later, she moved into the Andrews house. Some conversation!Jughead: They stayed together to the very end.

Postmortem #1: Mary Andrews. Profession: Owned a dress shop. Relationship/Family: In a relationship with a woman who was lucky to get a name: Brooke. Died: no info, presumably of old age.

Betty: Mrs. Andrews was always such a kind woman. She once gave my mother hell for disowning me. Jughead, who was parentless for the duration and never benefitted from Mary's alleged kindness: Silent. Betty hears Alice's laugh from downstairs. Betty: Is that...? Jughead nods and Betty rushes out and into the living room where Alice and a very pregnant Polly sit at the dinner table. Alice is dressed like a stewardess. Betty (overjoyed): Mom! Polly! You are alive! And you are so young! And you are talking again! Alice: Elizabeth! What are you doing out of bed? You have the mumps, young lady! Betty: No, no! I feel fine! I am going to school. Mom! You did it! You divorced dad! And you became stewardess, like you dreamed! Alice: Well, my dream was to see the world, not pass out peanuts on a puddle-jumper to Poughkeepsie, but life goes on. Betty: No, don't rush off, Mom! Can you... can you just look at me? Just... look at me. It's a little sad and desperate, and damn it, show, am I feeling some kind of a way about Betty and ALICE? Sigh.Alice (cradles Betty's face): I am looking at you. And I am seeing a girl, who, if she doesn't have the mumps, better hurry up so she is not late for school. Betty: Right! School. First... I love you mom! Hughs a surprised but pleased Alice tightly. The goes to hug startled Polly. Betty: I love you, Polly. (Sniffles). I am so happy to see both of you again. Runs off leaving puzzled Alice and Polly.

Next we see Betty and Jughead sitting on the Cooper's porch. Not gonna lie, it's a welcome sight. This is one of their spots. Betty: Was my mom a stewardess for very long? Jughead: On the contrary. One night her pilot had a steak, three martinis, and a heart attack. And your mom took control of the plane, and flew it from Riverdale to Poughkeepsie, landing it safely. Betty (chuckles): That's right. And one of the passengers on that plane asked her to dinner, out of gratitude for saving his life. And a few months later they got married. Not gonna lie, this is not where I thought this story would go when they started with "Alice flew the plane." I know this would have been unheard of in the 1950s, but since when did the show bother with realism? I figured they would make Alice a commercial airline pilot. But I guess she got the second best outcome from it. Jughead: He offered to show her the world, and she wrote you postcards from everywhere they went. Betty (sadly): Until they stopped coming...

Postmortem #2: Alice Cooper Final Last Name Undisclosed. Profession: Retired stewardess. Relationship/Family: Married a wealthy man who took her traveling forever. Died: Somewhere outside of the U.S., presumably of old age.

Betty: What about Polly? Jughead: She had her twins, Juniper and Dagwood... Me: Whyyyy? Surely this was an opportunity to stop the naming travesty? Jughead: She was very fulfilled, she had a happy life with her family. But she never got back to performing as Polly Amorous. Betty: I only ever saw Polly perform once. At the Babylonium. But I can picture it. She was such a star...

Postmortem #3: Polly Cooper Huggles (assuming she took her husband's last name). Profession: Retired burlesque star. Relationship/Family: Married a stock broker, had two children, still named them Juniper and Dagwood (Huggles, poor souls.). Died: No info, presumably of old age.

Jughead: Are you ready? To go back to school for one last time? They are in the high school yard.Betty: I can't believe it. Is this real, or a dream? Jughead: More like something in-between. But this is really what happened on that day back in 1957. We see another Jughead, sitting on the steps with Dilton, looking at comic books. We see Archie and Reggie shoot some hoops. We see Fangs (who is married with a toddler by now) serenading two cheerleaders with his guitar. We see the Gay Core Four (Kevin, Clay, Cheryl, Toni) huddled together, discussing a book. Betty: Everyone is so young, and beautiful, and care-free. They have no idea, do they? How special this time is, how quickly it goes by, like a blink of an eye. No, they don't. Why would they? That's an insight that comes with age. Veronica comes up to Betty. Veronica: You are not supposed to be here. Or did you have some kind of a miracle recovery? Betty (grabs her into a hug): Veronica! Thank goodness! This is too wonderful for words! Veronica: This is an ego boost I didn't know I needed. You should get the mumps more often. The bell rings and Veronica ushers Betty inside. Apparently, they have a lot to do today. Veronica: We are getting our yearbooks today. Don't forget. Betty (looking around at everything): I can't believe it, V. This is the last time we'll be walking into Riverdale High ever in our lives. Veronica: Betty, we haven't even graduated yet. It's too soon to be swamped with nostalgia. That said, I am feeling a little verklempt myself. Veronica goes to powder her nose, and Betty looks around. There's a trophy case. She spots an award for Best Poem for Young American Something or Other, and it has Archie's name on it. Yes, I cackled. I am sure you will, too. The intercom goes on. Toni's voice: Attention, Riverdale High students. As your Senior Class President I'm reminding everyone to pick up their yearbooks in the varsity lounge today, one per student. Now, on the more personal note, as we seniors look forward to graduation, it's only fitting that I share one final poem with you. I have a short-lived fear that it's going to be one of Archie's. Thankfully, it's not. Toni: It's entitled "Dreams" by Langston Hughes.

Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.

Toni: Students of Riverdale High. We dreamed of a better school for ourselves. And with Principal Weatherbee's help we made it happen. As some of us head out into the world, please remember that we, each and every one of us, have the power to make real and lasting change.

These are appropriate sentiments for graduation and all, but they are so funny to me, coming from Toni who, at least partially, remembers the past/future now.

Betty and Jughead are in the Blue and Gold. I love that they are in the Blue and Gold, not gonna lie, brings back the best memories.

Betty is looking at the wall of framed issues of the paper. Betty: I remember these. Articles about Rosa Parks and bus boycott. Toni always made sure that Riverdale High was in dialogue with whatever grater issues were affecting the country. Jughead: That's true. And it will continue until... Betty: Don't... don't... tell me what happened to Toni, please. I don't want to know yet. Jughead: Alright. I won't.

They hit the varsity lounge next, where Cheryl is distributing yearbooks. Betty gets in line. Cheryl: Ew, barf! What are you doing here? Word from the bird is you have the mumps! Back off, I don't want your mumpy cooties! Betty: No, it's fine, Cheryl. That was a false alarm. Can I get my yearbook and will you sign it for me? Cheryl: Nor right now, Betty. As you can see, I'm busy. Later. Betty: But what if I don't see you again? Cheryl: You most certainly will, as long as you are not germy. I expect you at my and Toni's art show opening at The Dark Room, tonight. And afterwards we are hosting a little get-together at Thornhill. Betty: I'll be at both. Cheryl: Of course you will. Now move along, Betty, there's a line behind you. Toodles! This is definitely the 21st-century Cheryl. The 1950s one was less... THAT.

Next Betty is in the music room, getting her yearbook signed by Fangs. Midge is there, too. I assume she gave birth at some point... We don't know when or where or what the baby's called. The show doesn't care to inform us and I, certainly, just don't care. Betty: Thanks, Fangs. Fangs: No sweat, Betty. Midge: Fangs is used to giving out autographs, not that he had hit single on the charts! Fangs: Baby, come on. "Pixie Girl" only made it to #8. Midge: That's a huge accomplishment! And what finally got my parents to sing another tune about us getting married. And wait until you hear his next song, Betty! Fangs: Speaking of, we gotta motor. I'm supposed to be in recording studio in half an hour, to lay down some tracks before going on my summer tour! Betty (tearing up): Tour? Fangs (excitedly): Six weeks on the road, all star lineup! A different city every night! They booked us a super-boss tour bus and everything! Midge: Catch you later, Betty! They leave. Betty: It didn't work out like they hoped, did it? Jughead: No. Four weeks into his tour, Fang's bus was heading over the Rocky Mountains when one of its tires blew. Were there no survivors. Betty (crying): Poor Fangs.

Postmortem #4: Fangs Fogarty (real first name forever unknown). Profession: Rock musician. Relationship/Family: Married (I assume they got married already) to Midge Klump. One child, a girl, name unknown. Died: In a bus crash in the Rocky Mountains. Yeeep.

Okay, not to be callous, but I am losing it at Fangs getting the Buddy Holly treatment. There's just so much to unpack here. First, I'm imagining the writers talking this one over, like, "they can't all die of old age, right? Someone has to be the tragedy. Who do we care about the least?" Betty: He was the first one of us to... pass away? Jughead: But. (points at the record mounted on the wall). This is his Gold record over there. It'll hang in this room for as long as there's Riverdale High. Right. Totally worth dying young for. Betty: What about Midge? Jughead: Thanks to Fangs' songs, Midge and their daughter were taken care of for the rest of their lives. Well, at least we know it's a girl. Betty: I remember. I'm remembering more and more.

Kevin walks in. Kevin: What are you doing for lunch? It's a beautiful day. Clay and I are gonna eat outside, if you want to join us? Betty (happy): Kevin! It is a beautiful day. I would love to join you.

They are at one of the outside tables. Kevin signs the yearbook. Kevin: Gosh, I can't believe this is the last time we ever gonna have lunch at school together, can you?! Betty: I know! Everything is going so fast, Kev! And Clay, I feel as if I barely got to know you. Me: You didn't. The writers didn't give you any scenes together. Kevin: That will change. Clay and I are going to be roommates next year. Betty: Aww! Exposition Clay: With me going to Columbia to study literature and Kevin to NYU to study musical theater writing, it just made sense for us to get an apartment together. Kevin: That's what we told our folks... Well, my mom and Clay's dad. They were swell about it. Just asked us to be careful, like they always do. And we always are. Swell. Betty (to Jughead): What happens to them? Nothing awful, I hope. Jughead: No. They lived a very spirited life in the heart of Harlem. Betty: Yes, I remember visiting them. All they had to do was open the window and an entire universe of music and art would pour in. Jughead: Clay became a tenured professor at Columbia University. And Kevin started an off-Broadway theater company. They saw and survived so much from that apartment.

In that apartment we get the glimpse of a poster on the wall. Never comes into focus as a full, unobstructed shot. "Senior Year The Musical"! I wish we could see the whole thing. Clearly the ill-conceived idea of "Archie! The Musical" found its stage eventually.

Jughead: Kevin was 82 when he went to sleep and never woke up. Clay passed away a few weeks later. He went out to enjoy some sun in Central Park, sat on a bench to feed some pigeons... And that was that.

Postmortems ## 5 and 6: Kevin Keller and Clay Walker. Profession: Theater owner/producer and college professor respectively. Relationship/Family: Married to each other (whether legally or not we don't know, but certainly in actuality). No children that we know of. Died: Within weeks of each other. Kevin in his sleep, Clay on a park bench.

Kevin (startling Betty out of her imaginary conversation with Jughead): Are you okay? Betty (misty-eyed): Yes. I was just thinking how you and Clay are soulmates. Sorry, I know I'm being silly. Kevin: Speaking about soulmates. What about you, guys? Have the four of you figured out what you're gonna do yet? Betty (confused): The four of us? What do you mean? Kevin: Betty, it's us. Kevin and Clay. We know the truth. But if you want, even though it's the last day of school, we are happy to keep up the ruse that you are only dating Archie and not the others. Betty: The others... what? Kevin: Come on, don't tell me you've suddenly forgotten that you, Archie, Veronica, and Jughead have been in a quad this entire last year? Betty: A quad? Looks over at this:

This is so, so unintentionally funny, guys, I can't! Just by looking at their faces you can tell who the last person Betty spent the night with pre-alleged-mumps was. Tell me I'm wrong. ;)

Betty is in the bathroom, staring in the mirror, grinning, when Cheryl walks in. Cheryl: What are you so happy about, Little Miss Mumps? Betty: Oh, I am just remembering where I was... just a year ago. Feeling boxed in by my mother's expectations and society's rules. Fighting to have my voice heard... Cheryl: Yes, yes, we all read The Teenage Mystique. And now? LOL, this is definitely the OG Cheryl.Betty: And now I'm remembering, it's been a really fun year.

She says it grinning like a cat, and Cheryl nopes out of that conversation with speed and alacrity. It's hilarious.

Betty, having struck out with Cheryl, finds a more receptive audience for her poli-tale in Reggie. We see them at the gym. Betty: Thanks for signing my yearbook, Reggie. Reggie: Anything for the gal who helped me fix up Bella. (I will forever cackle at the fact that Reggie's car got a name and Fangs' child didn't. Or Reggie's, for that matter.). Gotta say, though, you and me could have had on hell of a senior year. Taking Bella up to Lovers' Lane. If only you have chosen me over chowderhead Andrews. Betty: I didn't choose Archie over you, Reggie. Or over Jughead, for that matter. Can you keep a secret? One that only a handful of people know? Turns out, after Angel Tabitha's last visit, I remembered what it was like being with Jughead. And being with Archie. And Archie and Veronica remembered what it was like being with each other. But, Veronica and Jughead had just started a thing, and remembering all of that, sort of just took the pressure off of us having to make a single choice.

Time out: That, right there, is Riverdale writers' trusty MO: if you shuffle the deck enough times, you never have to make a single choice.

Betty: So the four of us realized that we could, and maybe should, just be together. At the same time. Well, not ALL.Reggie: Are you saying that for the past year the four of you have been dating. Each other. Betty: It started innocently enough. The four of us going on double dates. Me and Archie. Jughead and Veronica. And then it kind of evolved from there. Some nights Archie would sneak into my bedroom, and Veronica would go home with Jughead. Other nights Archie would stay at Pembrooke, and I'd go over to Jughead's. And sometimes, more often than you'd imagine, I would find my way to Veronica's. Reggie: Okay, but you guys never thought of bringing me into the mix? Betty: Veronica and I talked about it, of course, a flutter bum like you. But you were always so focused on basketball. Reggie (adamantly): Trust me, I would have made the time, Goldielocks! But, speaking of that, I better get back to it...

Okay, I am not gonna dwell on this hilarity. There's been enough said about the "policule" or "quad" or whatever this was (not a quad). People noting the lack of Jarchie and blaming various actors for it. Which is bullshit, it's not why it didn't happen. People saying that, if Reggie was admitted, Archie/Reggie would have happened. Again, bullshit. If RAS wanted to/could make Archie/Reggie (or Archie/Any Male) happen, he had ample opportunities in several episodes. He came very, very close to that "border," he is just clearly not allowed to cross it. Archie Andrews can be ambiguous, he can be aaaaaalmost, but he can never be explicitly bi.

Betty: I am so glad I got to know you, Reggie. This you. That's a hysterical clarification, but well deserved. The other timeline's Reggie was a massive asshole a lot of the times. Betty: I am sure you are destined for greatness. (pecks him on the cheek). Reggie: You, too, Cooper. Betty watches him shoot hoops for a bit.Betty: Did Reggie go professional? Jughead: Yes. The following year he played for Kansas State. And then he got drafted by the Lakers. In off-seasons he would work on his family's farm until his folks passed away. Then he had to sell the land. At which point he started coaching here, at Riverdale High. He was buried in Duck Creek, next to his wife and his parents. He had two sons who still run the used car dealership, Mantle Motors.

Postmortems #7: Reggie Mantle. Profession: Former pro, Basketball coach. Relationship/Family: Married someone not deemed important enough to have a name. Two sons, likewise no names, but at least we got to see them. Died: No info as to when or how, but buried in Duck Creek in a family plot.

Betty (and Jughead) go to the Babylonium next. Veronica: How's that absinthe, Betty? Betty: It's delicious, it's just a bit early in the day for me. Does this imply that Veronica is making/selling absinthe now? Because I am marveling at these 1950s small town high school kids. They are in open interracial, same-sex, and somewhat open poli relationships. They publish racy advise books and sell alcohol. They own businesses, stage burlesque shows, and pose for pin-ups. Why any of them wanted to leave Riverdale and go into a far less accepting 1950s world of anywhere else is kind of baffling, actually.

Veronica: I wanted to prepare you, because I have news I haven't yet shared with the boys. The final pieces fell into place yesterday. I am moving back to the City of Angels. Betty: Los Angeles? Why? How? Veronica: Josie McCoy's words about taking over Hollywood have been ringing in my ears since her visit. So I finally called my good friend Peter Roth and asked about getting a job, working for him in La La Land. Veronica (in a flashback on the phone to the guy): I've done the small town thing. I've done the theater-owner thing. And I now know what I want to do next. Peter Roth: And what's that, Miss Lodge? Veronica: I want to produce movies. And run a studio some day. Just like you. Veronica (talking to Betty again): I can't tell you how excited I am to begin this next chapter, Betty. To get in on the ground floor, to learn the ropes, work my way up to being a studio executive. One of the gatekeepers! Yeah, I'm sure it's that easy. Wait, what am I talking about? It's this show, of course it is.Betty: Wow. It sounds like an opportunity of a lifetime. Veronica: It is. But I am detecting something, Betty. Betty: I am so proud of you! Of all the things that you've done, of all the businesses that you've started... Me: Ah, yes, all of those... Where's that high-end jewelry shop in the economically devastated, broken-down town? Never mind. "Started" is the word. Betty: ... This move feels the most right. Veronica: I agree. Like it was my destiny. To be in the movies. Betty (wiping away tears): The only thing is, California is so far away. Veronica (holding her hand): Betty. It doesn't matter how far away we are, we will always be in each other's lives. I promise. Betty looks very sad. She is probably remembering that, without the 21st-century technology, staying in someone's life who's on another coast is easier said than done. We see Betty inside the theater, Jughead is in one of the seats.Jughead: I always loved this theater. It had a good run. Lots of kids made out here. Lots of gum under these seats. (Lifts one of the seats, revealing written initials and drawings. One of them is a crown). Betty: And Veronica? Jughead: The summer after graduation Veronica started as an assistant at the Silver Shield Studios. But within a few years she became known for her impeccable taste and for taking risks on young, raw talent. She won two Oscars. And produced some of the most iconic movies of our time.

We see Veronica in her office and there are "The Comet," "The Comet II," and "The Comet III" posters on the walls. The fact that it's a franchise is so, so hilarious given the source material. Also, anyone with better eye-sight please double-check, but it's kind of clear Veronica didn't get Sidney Poitier. However, the first one must have done fairly well for them to do the second and the third.

We are outside of the theater, where there's now a cement hand imprint for Veronica. The text reads "I don't follow rules, I make them... Veronica Lodge." Betty (remembering): V was buried in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. I visited her grave once. We went to some of her premieres before that. She was such a force. I wish... I wish I kept in better touch with her. With everyone. With all of us.

Postmortems #8: Veronica Lodge. Profession: Producer, studio executive. Relationship/Family: Not a peep, no info, zilch. Could have been married many times. Could have had children. Could have been fabulously single and childless her entire life. We are not allowed to know. Died: We are not allowed to know that, either. We can extrapolate from the fact that Betty's been to her grave in Hollywood Forever Cemetery, that it was a while enough ago for Betty to still be able to travel. So, presumably, Veronica passed some years before Jughead and Betty. Why would the writers go into randomest of details for secondary characters and leave essential things out for the main ones?

Betty: ...All of us. We were so close! Inseparable. And then we just... Jughead: This is what today is about. Remembering and getting a second chance. And no regrets.

We move to The Dark Room, where Cheryl and Toni open their exhibit. Cheryl: Thank you all for coming tonight. This is the culmination of a year-long collaboration between myself and my partner in all things, Toni Topaz. Our relationship is the most thrilling thing that I could ever imagined. We are always creating. There's no separation between our art and our love. So please, mingle, enjoy the work and feel free to buy a piece or two. The crowd laughs. The crowd that includes half of the students, some faculty, and local sheriff. Truly, this town exists outside of time and social issues. It only plays at them. Toni: Also, I'll be sitting in the corner over there, selling the collected edition of the first six issues of Black Athena, Riverdale High's acclaimed literary magazine! It's sure to be a collectors' item. Cheryl and Toni kiss on stage, as you do. The show is called "Beefcake meets Cheesecake." As it would be.

No disrespect to Toni's original photos, but something about them being turned into paintings is tickling me pink. These are hilarious but well done. Interestingly, Beefcakes are all topless while ladies are actually mostly covered. I want a whole book written about Riverdale prop and art departments and the choices they made. Not even kidding.

Betty: These paintings are incredible. I should try and buy one. Jughead: In case you were wondering, Cheryl had an incredible career as a painter. Her work was shown in galleries and museums across the country. Even a couple in Europe. Betty: What about Toni? Jughead: Toni and Cheryl stayed together. Moved out West together. They settled in Oakland Hills in a Craftsman house. Raise your hand if you are having trouble picturing Cheryl in anything but a Gothic mansion. But specifically in this ugly-wallpapered house with screaming clash of patterns. Jughead: Where they lived as artists and activists, and they had a son, Dale. Named after Riverdale, of course. Or Greendale. Or Sunnydale... literally stands for "valley." Could be any river-adjacent town. Why didn't they just name him River?Betty: And how did they pass away? Jughead: Peacefully. After living full, gorgeous, sexy lives.

Postmortems ## 9 and 10: Cheryl Blossom and Toni Topaz. Profession: Artist and activist respectively (Is activist a profession?). Relationship/Family: Married to each other (whether legally or commonly, we never learn). One child, named after town they couldn't wait to escape. Died: Peacefully, presumably of old age (given the "full" lives comment, though, of course, one can have a full life that's not that long).

They were lucky. Julian didn't fair so well. Betty: What about Julian? Jughead: A bit of a lost soul. After graduation he enlisted, served, and died in Vietnam. He was 28. How long did he serve? Ten years? That seems a lot for enlistment.

Postmortems #11: Julian Blossom. Profession: Soldier? Career military? Relationship/Family: No info. Died: Killed in combat (presumably) in Vietnam at 28. Sorry, dude. You weren't the best, but ah, you seemed to improve...

Betty (not shedding any tears for Julian): Nana Rose? Jughead: Reincarnated multiple times. Wait, what? Is this a joke or a real option?

Holy Whistler's Mother! Postmortems #12: Nana Rose Blossom. Profession: Always a witch, apparently. Relationship/Family: Well, she lived to see a great-grandson. Died: Apparently, she hasn't? We don't know, but it wouldn't be surprising if this one outlived everyone.

Also, I am cackling that Cheryl placed her next to Fang's naked thighs.

Jughead: Weatherbee and Mrs. T. got married. Oh, okay. Good to know. I guess. Mrs. Thornton was a Mrs., but ah, maybe she was a widow? Never mind. Not important. What's important is that they have fun together, attending their student's naughty pin-up exhibit featuring all their other students photographed and painted half-dressed. In no way is this awkward.

And if that doesn't get you in the fun mood, this will: Uncle Frank and Tom Keller are drinking at the bar. Who knew the coffee shop had a bar? Who knew this twosome was so out? Who knew... never mind. Jughead: Oh, them. Frank Andrews and Tom Keller were murdered. I don't know why I find this so freaking funny, but I do! The show really went "No, seriously, who can we dispose of horribly and tragically? Who are the characters no one gives a shit about? Let's see, Fangs. And Julian. And oh yeah, UNCLE FRANK!" But wait, there's more! Betty: By who? Jughead: A hustler they picked up one rainy night, named Chic. This gets funnier if you see Betty's and Jughead's faces as they have this conversation. Keep in mind, these are the two people who kept ALL their memories, good and bad, so they definitely remember everything Chic-related. And there's little reaction. Betty kind of rolls her eyes, Jughead doesn't even change expressions. It's hilarious.

Postmortems ## 12 and 13: Frank Andrews and Tom Keller. Profession: High School basketball coach and Sheriff respectively. Relationship/Family: Never married and divorced respectively, in a relationship with each other (with an occasional pinch hitter, As to children, well, there's Kevin. Died: Definitely not of all age. Whenever that murder by Chic happened, they couldn't have been that old.

Betty looks over to where the 1950s Jughead, Archie, and Veronica sit, looking solemn. Betty: What's happening over there? Jughead: Veronica just told us about her plans to go out West and we are not taking it well. Betty: I wasn't there for that conversation? Jughead: No. Well, you should be. Might help cushion the blow. Betty (joining the group): What's the tale, nightingales? Why the long faces? Archie: Ronnie just dropped an atomic bomb on us. Veronica: I told them my Los Angeles news. '50s Jughead: Ain't that just the pits. Veronica: Come on, boys. I know we haven't been talking about it lately, but we all knew we'd be going our separate ways after graduation. Jughead: Yeah, but now it feels so real. Archie: And final. Betty: Hey, do we really want to spend what could be our last night together acting like a bunch of wet blankets? Senior Year was amazing and incredibly fulfilling. Not just physically, emotionally, too. Seriously, how lucky were we to be brought together? Given the opportunity to know and love each other across not one but two lifetimes? That's a great sentiment, but sadly untrue. Spending seven years in high school is not a lifetime, though it might feel like it. Betty hadn't taken the opportunity to love these people across two lifetimes. Betty hadn't seen them in decades, and in the previous lifetime she hadn't seen them after high school for years, either. And she is the one who supposedly remembers that. Betty: We should be celebrating that, not mourning it. Not yet, at least. Veronica: Betty's right, the future can wait. Tonight is about appreciating everything we've been through. And let me tell you, we have been through a hell of a lot. I know she's talking about sex, because there's no way she is supposed to remember the real "have been through a lot" of the other timeline. Jughead: You know, if I had to live through high school twice—which we did—I'm glad it was with you three yahoos. Betty: I love you all so much. Meeting you was the best thing that could have possibly happen to me, heartbreaks and all. And I am so glad to be here to say it to you tonight. The all hold hands. I don't know if it's sweet or tragic. Archie: Hey, should we all take one last ride in my hotrod together to Cheryl's afterparty? No, this is not a group sex euphemism. We see the one last jalopy ride of the Core Four. When they get there, Betty is reluctant to go inside.Betty: I can't go in. Beanie Jughead: How come? Betty: Because I know, and you know, that this is the last time all of us will be together, ever! Jughead: Betty... Betty: I don't want to say goodbye. I just don't! It will be too painful, too much too bear, like you said. It was a mistake to come back here. I should be at home with the mumps. I should not be saying goodbye. It's... It's... Jughead: It's life, Betty. You say hello. You walk alongside someone for a while, and then you say goodbye. That's the arc of life, isn't it? Betty is crying.Jughead: Every minute counts. She walks reluctantly to the front door.

Not gonna lie, this is were it hit me. These are the lasts. This is goodbye. To the show that was more frustration than anything good in the last three seasons at least. And yet. To the characters, that were, in the end, for the large part, stripped of their original characteristics and bastardized into barely recognizable entities. And yet, I loved them. This is it.

Inside Thornhill's main hall, the party is in full swing. Julian stops the record and we pan out into the room, where everyone is sitting in a semi-circle. Archie stands in the middle. Archie: As you may know, I am kind of a big-time poet now. Julian: We know, Andrews, you won't stop talking about it. If missing Julian will be wrong, I don't want to be right.Archie: Anyway, I wrote something to commemorate our time together. Reggie: Aw, are you gonna make us get the weeps, Archie? Archie: This is an ode to my best friends, and every good thing that must come to an end.

Archie starts reading the Opus:

Tomorrow, we won't see each other in study hall So here's a few memories for us to recall. And no I won't be mentioning 'the epic highs and lows of high school football"!

Everyone laughs, and I am wondering how he remember this, since this was when he served time in Juvie, technically a "bad time" he supposedly forgot.

I grew up next door to Betty Cooper Who everyone thinks is super duper Just don't mutter the word "tangerine" 'Cause it sets off her serial killer gene.

Ah... again, how, I ask? Betty's fake-laughs.

Veronica Lodge, always in pearls, There isn't a business you haven't given a whirl. Funny to think you were never prom queen, Then again you were, once upon a time, A human dialysis machine.

Veronica: I especially asked Angel Tabitha to not let anyone remember that! Yeah, I have a few questions for Angel Tabitha, too. But also, remember or not, this is not coming out as an "ode" to anything, those are mean-spirited jabs. The fuck, Archie?

Cheryl Blossom, you are as rich as Rockefeller, And also kept your beloved Jason down in the cellar. But I am glad to see you and the Serpent Queen back together. Only thing, Toni, "southside" is one word, So, whoever designed your jacket is a terrible speller.

Yiiiiks. This is an award-winning "poet," ladies and gentlemen. Let me laugh about it for eternity. Also, speaking of Serpents, they were even bigger non-entity this season than they used to be. "Serpent Queen" in these 1950s is a purely ceremonial title.

Everyone keeps laughing at these "ditties" as if anything about this still-born "humor" is funny, and I am seriously wondering how much they all had to drink.

Jughead Jones needs no intro. He made his teach jump out a window. Thinks himself a private eye. Chained himself to Southside High.

All laugh. Okay, this is the first confirmation that at least some memories were altered, because there's no way in hell even a profoundly dumb guy like Archie would use that incident for giggles, if he remembered his role in it. "Hey, everyone remember my foray into organizing a hitlerjugend militia! Wasn't that a hoot?!"

Kevin's voice is so beautiful He belongs in a chorus. But he spends most of his time Cruising Fox Forest.

All laugh. Jeeeesus. His boyfriend is sitting right there!

Fangs, look at you now. You are a rockstar greaser. A long way from a cult member Who stole organs to put in a freezer.

All laugh. Wow. Just... I know how little there's to say about Fangs, but dude! Archiekins here is going for the worst possible shit he can remember about any of them, and I am waiting for someone to just slap that bitch. lol.

Last but not least, Mantle the Magnifiscent. Pound for pound you are my closest equivalent. But there's that other Reggie, so how do we know You are even legitimate? I'm gonna need to see some kind of a birth certificate.

Everyone laughs. You know, this is probably the best acting all of them have done in the episode. It cannot be easy to fake that much mirth and appreciation for something this atrocious.

Reggie: Not cool, Andrews! You know I'm sensitive about that!

These are just some of our wild endeavors. But now we've come to the end of our time together. It's truly one of my life's greatest pleasures To call you all my best friends Forever and ever.

It's mercifully over. So, to summarize Archie's Ode to My Best Friends: Betty, you have a serial killer gene! Veronica, you can never see any business through. Also, you never got to be Prom Queen. Cheryl, you went nuts and robbed a grave. Toni, you can't spell. Jughead, you drove your teacher to suicide. And you were on a funny hunger strike. Kevin, you are a whore. Fangs, you were in a scary organ-harvesting cult. Reggie, you aren't even you. Ah, sweet memories! I love you guys so much!

Freaking amazing.

We segue to Betty sitting alone in the hall. Archie walks in. Archie: You weren't planning on leaving without saying goodbye. Betty: I'm afraid it's time for me to go. Archie: Oh. Okay, well... Tonight isn't rally a goodbye, anyway. I know we'll see each other again. Maybe... Maybe we'll even end up together?! You know, I've always felt that it would be you and me at the end of the road. Did you now? Or did you watch a bunch of Angel-doctored "memories" set on "happy high" and made some leaps?Archie: I mean, it started with us, didn't it? Did it? It started with you rejecting her and falling for Veronica. But okay.Archie: A boy and a girl. Next door to each other. So, it started with adjacent real estate. Always a good indicator of romantic compatibility. Betty: That's a lovely sentiment, Archie. But that's not what happens in the future. Archie: No? Betty: Your mom was right. You make it to California and you don't look back. Then you meet a sweet, strong girl who makes you laugh. And you settle down in Modesto. And you have a beautiful family. You are a professional construction worker and an amateur writer. And you are so, so content and happy. And when you die, you ask to be buried here, in Riverdale. Next to your father.

Postmortem #14: Archie Andrews. Profession: Professional construction worker (I am waving off amateur writing). Relationship/Family: Married some woman in Modesto who doesn't merit a name. Presumably had some children who don't merit names or exact count. Died: Presumably of old age, but again, we don't know. Buried in Riverdale, next to his father. His family in Modesto must have been thrilled.

But all in all, how fitting. How fitting that he ended up having the life Fred wanted. In a place Fred would have loved (randomest town in California). Working the job Fred worked. Having the TradFamily he always said Fred wanted (though the actual evidence of Fred that we knew doesn't necessarily support that). And he is buried next to Fred. I always said Fred was the love of Archie's life.

Betty and Archie share some goodbye kisses while I laugh. Because, GOOD LORD! What an ending for this relationship!

Time out: Look, I didn't start out hating B*archie. They were my NOTP, sure, but hate is a strong emotion. I would have easily ignored this ship if certain shippers hadn't begun leaving hateful, vile, aggressive, relentless Anon messages in my Inbox, and continued so for 3 years. It didn't help that the entire B*archie relationship, when it happened, was written like a series of cautionary tales. All of it added an extra item to my incredibly short wish list for the series finale. Going in I knew it wouldn't be good, or satisfying, or make any kind of sense, emotional or logical. So the realistic wish list I had initially was just one item: Bughead interacting for longer than 30 seconds on screen. I know, so little to ask for, but given the kind of seasons we had lately... BAs in my Asks inspired the second item: Whatever happens, please, NO B*ARCHIE ENDGAME. And boy, did the show deliver on this account! (On the other account, as well, thankfully).

Betty comes out of the house and Beanie Jughead is waiting for her. Jughead: Glad you went in? Betty: I am. But it reminds me, there's one last person I want to visit before we leave. If we have time. Jughead: We do. Betty: I just want to have some flowers first. Next it's daytime again and they are at the cemetery. The "last person" they are visiting is Pop Tate. Or rather, his grave. The headstone reads "Terrance 'Pop' Tate. February 14th, 1881–September 30th, 1956. Sleeps With The Angels." Betty: It was right after the beginning of senior year that he... Jughead: Yes. It was a terrible blow to the town. At least it happened in his sleep. They killed Pop Tate?! That's not okay!

Postmortems #15: Pop Tate. Profession: Diner owner. Relationship/Family: Had at least one child, and a granddaughter in Chicago. Died: In his sleep, peacefully, at the age of 75. May his memory be a blessing.

Betty: What happens to us? When we die? Jughead: Well, I can't speak for everyone, but for a man like Pop Tate, I have a feeling he is still doing what he loves best. Flipping burgers, mixing shakes, and making people smile. For the rest of eternity, I bet. I know this is meant as a sweet thing, but if you think about it, flipping burgers for all eternity is kind of... yikes?

They sit down on a bench. Betty: Strange to say, but I read your obituary in the paper.

Ah, the sideburns! They are something else. Okay, this is what I could make out: "Forsythe Jones III, Jughead to his friends and followers (wait, they dropped Pendleton?! Is that a 1950s timeline thing or they, like, forgot?), passed away on Tuesday at his home in New York State (WHERE in New York State, show? The state is large!). Jughead took fledgling Pep Comics, popular for it's (sic) horror-themed comic books in the 1950s, and created the wildely successful Jughead's Madhouse Magazine. Jughead spent his youth devouring comic books and short stories and turned that passion into a profitable enterprise that gave an outlet to the misunderstood, twisted minds of America's teens for the better part of .... decades ("...." for the words I couldn't make out). A young horror writer and .... for .... Pep Comics himself, Jughead..." That's all I could read. Someone with sharper eyes might see more.

Betty: It was lovely, Jughead. Yours was a life well lived. Jughead: Well, as we used to say back in the day, it was swell. I put all my eggs in one basket. Betty (smiling): Jughead's Madhouse Magazine. It became an institution. Jughead: It was a juvenile satire at best. Just mocking all the sacred cows. Betty: And they still love it, 70 years later. Jughead: It's mostly teens and kids who read it. But I'm not gonna lie, as far as legacies go, I could have done a heck of a lot worse. As far as lucrative careers go, too. The RL founder of "MAD" magazine is a millionaire. This is who they are basing Jughead's life on. Not bad for a neglected kid who grew up in vehicles as homes.Jughead: Do you think about that a lot? Legacy? Betty: No, not too much. Jughead: Well, you should! First it was "The Teenage Mystique," a self-published bestseller. (Sorry, I will be cackling at that for a while still). Then there was your advice column, Betty's Diary (really?). Betty: All I remember from those days are the never ending deadlines. Jughead: Then it was New York. Betty: Freelancing and protesting. There was so much to be angry about back then. Jughead: Hmm. Still is. Betty: The same fights. But other people are fighting them now. The younger generation. Jughead: Who grew up reading the magazine you started, She Says, the go-to source for feminist and progressive causes. Exposing hard truths.

I see they styled her like Gloria Steinem circa 1970s.

Jughead: Still being published today, I might add. Betty (mimicking Jughead's earlier statement): As far as professional legacies go, I could have done a heck of a lot worse. Jughead: Do you have any regrets about not getting married? Betty (sighs): None. But I am so happy I adopted my daughter, Carla. I loved being a mother. And a grandmother. That's my true legacy, my family. What about you? Any regrets about not getting circled? Jughead (looking her directly in the eyes): Sometimes.

Bughead theme is playing. This happens.

Postmortems #16: Jughead Jones. Profession: Founder and editor of Jughead's Madhouse Magazine. Relationship/Family: Never married, no children that we know of. Died: At his home in New York State (where?!!!), at the age of 84. Or 86. Depending on how old that newspaper was and how drunk the writers were when they wrote this. They don't say it, but since everyone else who made it to the old age seemed to have died peacefully and in their sleep, I am going to assume Jughead did, too.

Betty (tearing up again): I wish we could stay in Riverdale forever. With all of our friends. As we were. Young and beautiful, full of hope. Bursting with love for each other. I know it's not possible. Jughead: No. It's not. In fact, it's time to get you back. Betty: I know. I'm ready... To face whatever comes next. Jughead gets up and holds out his hand, Betty takes it. Fade to black.

Next we see the road and the "Welcome to Riverdale, the Town with Pep". A car drives by. It's Alice the Granddaughter, some dude who is presumably her husband or a boyfriend, and Octogenarian Betty in the back, napping on a tiny pillow. Octogenarian Betty (narrating): Goodbye, town sign... Goodbye, Sweetwater River and all its mysteries... And Fox Forrest and its haunted trees... We are shown the places she says goodbyes to. Octogenarian Betty: (at the Cooper house) Goodbye, red door and all the secrets behind it. (We are shown an empty room that was once Betty's) Goodbye room, and the window, and Archie's room. Goodbye, Pembrooke, with your crackling fires and sexy sleepovers (we see fairly empty apartment with the remaining furniture covered with dust sheets). Goodbye to cups of coffee and late nights of writing (we are shown a glimpse of clearly abandoned train car). And to maple syrup-mornings and spin-the-bottle parties (we are given the visual tour of a now empty Thornhill). (Then we see a desolate-looking Babylonium front on an equally desolate-looking street. There's a literal tumbleweed rolling on it.) Goodbye to popcorn and double features and double dates. (It's a totally empty The Dark Room next) Goodbye to music and poetry and art. (And the school. You guessed it, empty and abandoned, as we roll through its spaces) Goodbye, Riverdale High. Goodbye to basketball games and pep rallies and dances at the gym. Goodbye, lockers. Goodbye, Blue and Gold. Goodbye, chalk dust and bobby pins, and whoopee caps and whoopee cushions. Goodbye to friends, and feeling scared, and Fourth of July camping trips. And time capsules... And time. I wish... I wish there were more of it. Goodbye, Riverdale.

Okay, I chocked up a little. Even if I kept hearing "goodnight, moon" in all of this. Still, this was much better Ode/Poem than whatever it was Archie put out.

The car pulls up into the Pop's parking lot. That looks desolate. Pop's is closed and looking worse for the wear. There's a "For Sale" sign in one of the windows... What happened to modern Riverdale in this timeline, then? Did the comet got it after all? Economic devastation? Hiram Lodge? The 2023 Riverdale is a ghost town. Which is a heavy metaphor to clubber us over the head with. It's very Riverdale. Granddaughter Alice: Grandma Betty, we are here. (to her guy) Look, honey, she's asleep! "Honey": I don't think she's asleep, honey.

They really did it. The show really did it. They wrote Betty Cooper dying in a car, in a parking lot...

But hey. Peacefully. And in her sleep.

This fucking show, man.

Postmortems #17: Betty Cooper. Profession: Founder and editor of She Says Magazine. Relationship/Family: Never married, daughter Carla (adopted, no idea if alive or passed, no mention beyond name), granddaughter Alice (not much info either; she has a boyfriend/husband and a house. At least we met her.). We never hear of what happened to her half-sister Ethel, or Juniper, or Dagwood... Died: In the car, in the parking lot of closed, defunct Pop's Diner... At the age of 86. Peacefully. In her sleep... The last of her friends to go.

And that is that on that.

Next we see a 1950s with a ponytail Betty get out of a car in front of the very much open and hopping Pop's. She is let inside by Jason Blossom standing outside the door, wearing Pop's uniform.

Forever silent. Forever outside. But at least he made it here? And they gave him a job?

Inside the diner, all of her 1950s classmates are gathered. Eating, dancing, making out. Teenage mid-century paradise. Literally, apparently. When I say "all" classmates, I mean almost all. There are Fangs, Toni, Reggie, Julian (I guess in the afterlife he and Jason can exist in the same space), Midge, Kevin, Clay, 1950s Dilton, Ben, Cheryl, Toni, a few Black Athena club memebers who never got names, Veronica, Archie, 1950s Jughead... The conspicuous absences are: Ethel and Tabitha (not Angel Tabitha. Though ... this is some kind of haven, no?. 1950s Tabitha). Several speculations could be made here: 1. They are both still alive and when Betty said "I am the last one" she meant her close circle, not everyone; 2. They went to hell (which... Why? And does it exist in this Riverdale universe? "Sweet Hereafter" ain't so sweet, actually, what we remember of it, so maybe it's a combination?); 3. The writers didn't know how to incorporate Tabitha into the Core-4-centric ending, so they just didn't?; 4. The writers forgot (not an implausible explanation with these them).

Anyway, Betty walks into the diner. It's hugs and happy waves all around. Pop Tate behind the counter is all smiles. Everyone is just so happy to see her. She slides into the booth next to Veronica, opposite Jughead and Archie. Archie: Perfect timing, Betty. We got you a shake. Your favorite, strawberry.

I'm sorry, I am cackling. "Perfect timing, Betty. We are so glad you are finally dead!"

We pan out to the parking lot. Where Beanie Jughead is standing, watching from the outside.

Jughead: Well, I leave them there, I think. Where they are forever Juniors. Forever 17. Always grabbing a burger or a shake. Always going to or coming from some dance, talking about school, the big game, who is dating who, homework, whatever movie is playing at the Babylonium... You know, the moments that make up a life. That's where they've... Have always been. In this diner, in this town, in the sweet hereafter.

That's... that's terrifying. Does this mean that they've been dead for the entire season and what we watched in season 7 was some kind of a warped vision of an afterlife? Was the entire show an afterlife? And the implication is that that's the reason it randomly resets and there's no escaping the cycles? Or does the fact that this Jughead is on the outside, narrating directly to us, mean that it's just a story he's been writing all along? And none of it was real? None of these make me comfortable. It's a truly disturbing line, no matter how you interpret it.

Jughead: So if you happen to see that neon sign, some lonely night at the end of that long journey, the journey that every one of us is on, pull over, come on it, take a seat.

Well, that's downright sinister. And vaguely threatening.

Jughead: Know that you always be among friends, and that Riverdale will always be your home. Until then, have a good night.

Yep. Definitely sounds like a threat. The feeling I'm left with is unsettling.

Jughead walks away from the diner. There's the theme music and the distinct sound of clicking typewriter keys in the background... Which is suggestive.

The end title card is the original font. I am glad to see it.

And that's that. I've been watching this show for years. I didn't think I would be sad to see it go, but I am. And I am not sure what to do with this feeling. If Riverdale was good at anything, it was at messing with people's feelings. Even if it was only frustration. It was its one consistent trait. It remained so to the end. Goodbye, Riverdale.

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