All language subtitles for Riverdale.US.S07E01.WEB.x264-TG

♪ One, two, three o'clock
Four o'clock, rock ♪

♪ Five, six, seven o'clock
Eight o'clock, rock ♪

♪ Nine, ten, eleven o'clock
Twelve o'clock, rock ♪

♪ We're gonna rock around
the clock tonight ♪

♪ Put your glad rags
on And join me, hon ♪

♪ We'll have some fun When
the clock strikes one ♪

♪ We're gonna rock Around
the clock tonight ♪

♪ We're gonna rock, rock,
rock Till broad daylight ♪

♪ We're gonna rock, gonna rock
Around the clock tonight ♪

♪ When the clock strikes
two Three and four ♪

The year is 1955.

Number one on the Billboard
charts is "Rock Around The Clock,"

an earworm if I've
ever heard one.

Now, some random fun facts.

In 1955, a hamburger
with a side of fries

set you back 30 cents.

A comic book, a dime. A
pulp novel, a quarter.

It's been two days since Bailey's
Comet almost decimated us,

and we were somehow
zapped back to the 1950s.

I'm not sure how that
happened exactly.

I'm not sure if we're
merely in the past,

or in the past of an
alternate universe.

But things are different
here in Riverdale.

For starters, I live in an
abandoned train car with Hot Dog,

which actually tracks.

And at Riverdale High,
we're all juniors again.

Betty and Kevin
aren't merely friends,

they're dating.

Cheryl's twin brother is
alive, but he's not Jason.

He's Julian.

No sign of a Reggie yet.

But Archie exists, and he's still
pretty much a teen Charles Atlas.

None of them remember our lives

from before we became
teenagers again,

and I haven't tried
to remind them yet.

I've been waiting to
reconnect with the one person

who might be able to shed
light on our predicament,

because she was
both chronokinetic

and the town's guardian angel,
my girlfriend, Tabitha Tate.

Bus from Mississippi's
pulling in.

Wonder if it was
as bad down there

as they're saying on the radio.

I already knew
what Pop would soon find out.

It was much, much worse.

Tabitha, Toni and some of Riverdale
High's other students of color

were in Mississippi
for the trial

of the two men who murdered
Black teenager Emmett Till,

for supposedly whistling
at a white woman.

The jury deliberated
for all of 67 minutes

and then acquitted the killers.

It was one of the
single most shameful

and appalling events
of this or any era.

Uh, Tabitha?

Uh, they

announced the verdict
on... on the radio.

It made me sick in my stomach.

- If you need anything...
- That's what we're trying to figure out now,

what our next move should be...
but I appreciate the offer.

It's Jughead, right?

Uh, yeah. Yes.

I'll let you know.

It's overwhelming.

Heartbreaking.

Whichever genius
said that the '50s

were the greatest
decade of all time

should seriously have
their head examined.

Archie? Can I
speak to you for a minute?

What's wrong, Mom?

They printed more pictures
from James Dean's car accident.

Oh, I can't even
show them to you.

You shouldn't look
at that stuff, Mom,

- it upsets you.
- No, what upsets me

- is the idea of you on the road being reckless.
- Oh.

And that's why I...

I'm going to need
your keys, Archie.

You're not going to drive
that hot rod anymore.

Mom. Whoa! Now, Mom,
I'm a safe driver.

It's not a hot rod.

It's barely a cut
above a jalopy...

It's got fire
painted on its doors.

- Mom.
- Keys. Now.

♪ Well, that's
All right, Mama ♪

♪ That's all right for you ♪

♪ That's all right, mama
Just anyway you do ♪

♪ That's all right
That's all right ♪

♪ That's all right now,
Mama Anyway you do ♪

♪ Well, Mama she done told me ♪

♪ Papa done told me too ♪

♪ Son, that gal
Your foolin' with ♪

♪ She ain't no good for you ♪

♪ But that's all right
That's all right ♪

What do you think, Betty?

Toni, your writing
is remarkable.

This is the most important piece of
reporting that I've read in my two years

as editor-in-chief
at the Blue and Gold.

But we've tried covering
Emmett Till before.

Both times Principal Featherhead
has vetoed the stories.

Betty, I heard Mamie Till give the
most incredible, inspiring speech

after the verdict was delivered.

And I got a chance
to interview people

that knew Emmett personally,

his friends, his neighbors.

And I made them a promise I
would help tell his story.

I agree wholeheartedly.

I'll make an appointment
for us with Featherhead.

This
is a squirrel mill.

A mill is a hot rod or souped-up
jalopy which was once just a car.

Well, it should happen to all...

Mrs. Thornton, I'm sorry
to interrupt your class,

but I did want to personally introduce a
new student to our Riverdale High family.

She's just moved here
from sunny Los Angeles.

Damn.

Even in 1955,
Veronica Lodge knew

how to make an entrance.

Enchante, I'm sure.

Thank you, Principal
Featherhead.

Now, before you ask,

yes, I am that Veronica Lodge,

the daughter of Hiram
and Hermione Lodge,

the married stars of America's number-one
rated television program, Oh Mija!

For the foreseeable future,

I will be staying with
my auntie and uncle

at the Pembrooke in
downtown Riverdale.

Why? Well,

you may have heard about MGM's
upcoming film adaptation of Our Town.

Though I can't confirm that the lead
role of innocent ingenue Emily Webb

has already been cast

with a certain raven-haired
starlet, namely moi,

I did feel it was
an opportune time

to take a sabbatical
from Hollywood

and get a feel for
small-town life.

But please, I beg of you
treat me as one of your own,

not as a scion of
Tinseltown royalty.

Thank you.

Mind if I join you?

- Actually...
- Yeah, sure.

I believe I caught on your names

in Mrs. Thornton's class.

Archie. Betty.

Kevin. Julian.

Hmm.

Remind me, what's yours again?

- Cheryl.
- That's right, Cheryl.

So, what are we dishing about?

- Clue me in.
- James Dean's untimely passing, of course.

I am the president of his fan
club here at Riverdale High.

Your parents' show is hilarious.

We tune in every week.

You and everyone else,

if Mr. Nielsen is
to be believed.

Where in Los Angeles
did you live?

Bel Air.

In a ghastly old mansion
Vincent Price used to own.

Is that close to where
James Dean lived?

Wait, you didn't know
James Dean, did you?

Kevin, don't
be so provincial.

James Dean was a movie star.

He was friends with Elizabeth
Taylor and Rock Hudson.

Actually, Jimmy and I
were quite friendly.

We went skinny-dipping in the
pool at the Chateau Marmaduke.

- You went skinny-dipping?
- With James Dean?

Once or was it a regular thing?

I suppose next you'll be
saying you and Jimmy dated.

No, but he did enjoy playing
both sides of the net.

Girls and boys.

Wait. Hang on! Are you
suggesting that James Dean was...

What? I mean, he seemed like

such a regular guy.
Like a cowboy, almost.

How dare you besmirch
his memory like that?

Don't you be so provincial.

I don't know why I'm so surprised
to hear such filthy lies

coming out of the mouth
of some wild child

who grew up
surrounded by perverts

going to sex parties and orgies!

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have lost my appetite.

What about Sal Mineo?

Remember, the astronomy club
is meeting after school today.

We will be bringing
something ideas to fundraise

so we can purchase new telescope

before Bailey's Comet arrives.

B-Bailey's Comet
is coming again?

Guys!

When?

Oh, not for two
years, Mr. Jones.

But it's an extremely
expensive telescope,

and this will be
the only opportunity

we'll have to see the
comet in our lifetime.

We mustn't miss it.

Hey, Veronica, can
I walk you home?

Walk?

Do I look like the kind
of girl who walks home?

Ready, Ronnie?

Thanks for the offer, Archie,

but as you can see, I've
already secured an escort home.

Um, excuse me.

And how do you expect me
to get home, dear brother?

You got two feet, don't you?

Use them or lose them.

I'm sorry.

Miss Topaz, Miss Cooper,

but I gave your article to
Dr. Werthers for review,

and we both agree,

it's not suitable
for publication.

Toni's reporting is, it's
thorough, insightful, balanced.

Be that as it may, as
a child psychologist,

it's my expert opinion that the
details of the Emmett Till case

are far too violent
and disturbing

for young, impressionable minds.

People, your students,
need to understand

the gravity of what happens
so it doesn't happen again...

here.

These sorts of things
don't happen in Riverdale.

And may I remind
you that we were

one of the first high schools
in the country to integrate.

- Isn't that enough?
- Hardly.

We don't have any
Black teachers.

We don't study or learn
about Black authors.

Change doesn't happen
overnight, Miss Topaz.

Your article's
very well-written.

Surely you can find some
satisfaction in that.

Mom, Dad, you haven't
said anything.

Did you read the article
my friend Toni wrote?

Yes, we did, honey.

And?

And it was very well-written.

- Extremely well-written.
- Mm-hmm.

So you'll read it
on the air, Dad?

Jeez, hon, we only get 15
minutes of airtime a night.

Do we really need to spend
one minute on a story that...

well, has nothing to do with us?

Dad, everyone watches
your nightly broadcast.

Imagine the impact it would have

if you, the face of RIVW,
talked about Emmett Till.

Elizabeth,
it's not that simple, honey.

I mean, you know very
well that we have to run

every single one of our stories

past our sponsors for approval.

And I'm sorry, this is just
not in their bailiwick.

Your sponsors,
you're talking about

The Blossoms,
Blossom Maple Syrup.

But if we lose their support,

RIVW won't be able to
expand its programming.

Hmm. You won't be able to give
yourself a raise, you mean.

Betty. Darling, why is
this so important to you?

Because what happened to Emmett
Till was a complete injustice.

A crime emblematic of everything

that's wrong with this country.

And nobody except my friend Toni

and her friends seem
to care about it.

You know, this
might sound crazy, Jug.

The first time that I saw her,

I felt like I was hit by a
thunderbolt or something.

Shazam!

But how is a guy like
me going to get anywhere

with a girl like Veronica Lodge
if I'm riding a damn bicycle?

That's why I'm sneaking
this baby out tonight.

I admit, while Archie
poured his heart out to me,

I was racking my brains.

If Bailey's Comet was what
sent us all to the past,

Bailey's Comet might be able
to send us back to the future.

But I needed help.

But with my friends unaware
of their former lives,

how can I make them remember?

It would take some kind of tangible
proof to jolt them awake, but what?

Jug, have you seen my dad's hammer?
I need to smack this dent out.

Your dad's hammer?

Did everyone bring an item?

Putting in a guitar pick and a
hammer from my dad's toolbox.

It was a long shot.

But could that time
capsule we buried

graduation weekend,
possibly have survived

whatever cosmic event
sent us back to 1955?

The items in that capsule
might trigger their memories.

Do you have a shovel
that I could borrow?

Thank God!

Well, well, well.

Color me curious.

The all-American boy is
secretly a hot-rodder.

I was hoping I could maybe
give you a ride home today.

Consider it a date.

Archie. Veronica.

I'm holding an emergency meeting
in the music room. Hurry!

Who is that person again?

What is all
this junk, Jughead?

These headlines
are like Dr. Seuss.

Just take a moment. Look
at what you're holding.

Do you remember anything? Do
you... Do you feel anything?

I mean, I like the jacket, but I've
never seen this before in my life.

I've been to a
lot of movie sets,

so I know a good prop when I
see one, and these are okay.

- They're not props.
- Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

I don't get it.
An "inch" of what?

When did you even get a chance

to bury my dad's
hammer in a cooler?

I didn't. You did.

We all buried something
of emotional significance

in that time capsule
67 years ago.

- But in the future.
- The future?

Yeah. Yes.

This is gonna sound nuts, okay?

Just hear me out.

Thanks to a cataclysmic event,

all of us, we were all
sent back in time...

to maybe an alternate
parallel universe.

And we need to get
back to our future.

Our present. I... I was
hoping that by showing

you guys these objects, it
would help jog your memory.

Okay. What's your object?
What did you bury?

It was a yarn beanie.

But for whatever reason, it
wasn't in the time capsule.

Oh.

All right. I'll play along.

Yeah. Okay.

In the future,
who's more famous?

Me or Elizabeth Taylor?

Never mind her.
She just got here.

Bird's-eye view.
What's the future like?

Um...

Where do I start? Uh...

Okay.

We don't use regular
phones anymore.

We use something
called smartphones,

which we can carry around
everywhere with us.

And, ironically, we don't
even call people on them.

We just send texts,
which are like messages

and listen to music on Spotify

and, oh, the Internet.

The Internet is like, um,

having an entire encyclopedia
at your fingertips.

Well, maybe tell us about us.

What were we like in the future?

Okay. Archie joins the
Army and fought in a war.

Betty, you were in the FBI

and you were hunting
down serial killers,

which I guess is a term
that doesn't exist yet.

Veronica, you owned a casino.

But before that, a speakeasy,

which Toni bought and
turned into a biker bar.

Kevin, you directed,
uh, some musicals,

and were in an
organ-harvesting cult.

Huh! Oh!

Okay. What about me?

Uh, you were possessed by your
ancestor and... and became a witch.

Oh.

If that's what we were
doing in the future,

why would we want to go
back? We sound miserable.

Yeah, and how would
that even happen?

Okay, I... I have an idea.

Now, it's a crazy one,
but it might work.

So, short of waiting for
Bailey's Comet to return,

the other way that we could break
through the space-time barrier

is by getting Archie and Betty

to make out on top
of Archie's bed,

and then we blow up a
bomb underneath them.

All right, Jug.
That's enough, man.

- Let's go for a walk.
- You're not going to beat me up, are you?

Because you're really
violent in the future.

What? No, we're gonna talk.

- Come on.
- Just... Just look at that.

- You don't understand!
- No, Jug, you don't understand.

We are not from the future.

Jughead, it's 1955.

And things are hard
enough to figure out

without your crazy stories

about time traveling

and other universes.
And setting off bombs?

I mean, for Pete's sake,
Jughead. If you're not careful,

people might start thinking you belong
in the loony bin with the other nutjobs.

You think I'm crazy?

No, I, uh...

I just, I think you have an
overactive imagination, is all.

And look, you
should keep writing

your comic books
and your stories

instead of trying to convince us

that we're trapped
in some kind of

science-fiction picture show.

Jug, life's good.

It's not perfect,
but... but what is?

Well, just trust me on this
one, will you, bud, please?

Yeah.

- Yeah, no...
- Yeah?

Attaboy.

I feel like all I'm doing lately

is apologizing to you, Toni.

But... my parents say
they wouldn't be able

to get your story
past The Blossoms,

and they sponsor the
nightly news, so...

Well, I'm not surprised.

When Emmett was murdered,
nobody wanted to talk about it

and nobody wanted
to hear about it.

It took Mrs. Till publishing
her son's funeral pictures

for people to finally wake up.

I don't think I know about that.

Before Emmett was buried,

his mother asked
for an open casket

so people could see what
was done to her son.

How he'd been beaten,
tortured and disfigured.

Toni, do you have copies
of those pictures?

At home.

From when they were
in a newsletter.

Are you sure you
want to see them?

Why on God's earth are you two
in such sullen, sulking moods?

It's not like you're poor.

Julian's mad because that
fake stuck-up Veronica Lodge

- ditched him for a date with Archie Andrews.
- Mm.

Cheryl's mad because suddenly
she's not the most beautiful,

most interesting girl at
Riverdale High anymore.

As if she ever was.

Anyway, these inane movie
magazines came in the mail for you.

Perhaps they'll cheer you up.

♪ Well, I saw my baby walking ♪

♪ With another man today... ♪

- They're good, right?
- Delicious.

Honestly, I think these
onion rings might be

better than the ones
at the Brown Derby.

Wow. What's the Brown Derby?

It's a chain of restaurants that Gloria
Swanson's husband started in Los Angeles.

Who's Gloria Swanson?

You know what? Let's skip it.

Enough Hollywood talk. I
want to hear about you.

Tell me everything there is
to know about Archie Andrews.

The hot-rodder next door.
What do you do for fun?

Well, I work on my car.

I like sports.

Um... I come here to Pop's.

And I hang out at
Sweetwater River.

Yeah.

To skinny dip, I hope.

Mostly to fish.

My dad and I used to
go there together.

You used to?

Yeah, he's not around anymore.

He served in the Korean War
and he didn't make it back.

-Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...
-No, it's okay.

It's okay. You didn't know.

Anyway, it's just
me and my mom now.

And she works part-time at
the dress shop downtown.

Oh. Well, I will have
to pay her a visit.

I'll make sure she
gives you a discount.

What about girls?

I mean, as handsome as you are,

I assume you're beating
them off with a stick.

Uh...

Well, I'm probably digging myself
into a hole here, but, uh...

You know, I've never had a
serious girlfriend before.

Really?

Why's that?

I don't know. Maybe I just
haven't met the right girl yet.

Until now.

J'accuse!

Excuse me?

Cheryl, what is your problem?

She is my problem, Archie.

Veronica Lodge is nothing
but a liar and a fraud.

And I'm going to make sure
the entire world knows it.

You're not starring in Our Town.

Natalie Wood is. It
says so right there.

You've been lying to us
ever since you got here.

Which makes me wonder, why
are you actually in Riverdale?

Was it really your choice or

did your parents banish you
because they were fed up

with their lying liar of
a spoiled brat daughter?

Hey, it's... It's okay.

That's just... It's sort of what Cheryl's like.

But don't worry, no one
takes her seriously.

In this case, she's
right, though.

I haven't been entirely
honest with you guys.

The truth is, my
parents did banish me.

Why would they do that?

Because I am a problem,

and when problems
interfere with their lives,

they make them go away.

In a way, it feels
like they've been

making me go away
since I was born.

Ignoring me and sidelining me

since they... started
that damn show of theirs.

So I began acting out

like some spoiled little rich
girl to get their attention.

And the straw that finally
broke the camel's back

and made my parents ship me
across the country was...

the accident.

With James Dean?
You were in the car?

No, I was part of a convoy of some
other good-time girls.

We were going to cheer Jimmy
on at a race in Salinas.

Anyway, to keep my
name out of the papers,

my parents spirited me away

and put me on a private
plane to Riverdale.

To live with your aunt and uncle.

They don't exist, Archie.

This is my parent's place.

I can't... believe
they would do that.

I mean, exile you to live alone.

Like a fairy tale
princess, I guess.

The show is their real
baby, Archie. Not me.

Archie.

Mom.

- What are you doing up?
- Waiting for you.

I went into the garage
to get a screwdriver,

and I saw that you'd
taken your car out.

- Mom, I can explain.
- You're grounded, Archie.

Because I took my car out
without your permission?

Why is that all of
a sudden a criminal offense?

The pictures of James
Dean's car crash.

I can't lose you...
like I lost your father.

And I can't get a call in
the middle of the night

telling me that you wrapped your
car around some telephone pole.

Come on, Mom. You won't.

You won't.

And I promise I won't speed.

I won't go drag racing.

In fact, I'll ask
Betty to un-soup my car

so that it doesn't go
faster than... than...

- Twenty-five miles an hour.
- Fifteen.

Twenty.

- Deal.
- Deal.

- Twenty. Sounds great.
- Yeah. Okay.

Oh Mija! Starring
Hiram Lodge, Hermione Lodge

and Tillie Temple
as Little Ronnie.

Bitch.

Hello?

Veronica?
Veronica, can you hear me?

Mom?

Yes. Yes, I can. How are you?

- Where are you?
- Listen, darling, I only have a minute.

But, um, what's this I'm hearing
about a boy at the apartment?

You know we didn't send you to Riverdale
to get into more trouble, Veronica.

Mom, please. It was nothing.

He's just a friend from school.

Good, good. That's
music to my ears.

Mom, have you decided
on Thanksgiving yet?

-I can fly back.
-Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I have to go.

Your Uncle Orson just arrived.
But please, mija, fly right,

no boys, and we'll see
about the holidays.

Talk soon. Kisses.

Thank you for letting
me borrow the newsletter, Toni.

I had no idea.

The pictures make it
so much more real, don't they?

Can you imagine the
strength and courage

it took Mrs. Till to
let them be published?

I truly can't.

But it did help me decide that

I'm going to publish your article in
the next edition of The Blue and Gold.

Consequences be damned.

I may have a different idea.

Nobody wanted to
see these pictures

and Featherhead and The Blossoms

don't want anybody to
read my article, fine.

But what about a poem
about Emmett Till

read during the
morning announcements?

- But Cheryl does the morning announcements.
- Exactly. Look,

I don't know her well, but she's going
to make up for her parents' cowardice.

You want to help
me with an ambush?

Hey, Jughead.

Tabitha. Hi.

You remember that offer
you made me before

to help out in any
way that you can?

Oh, yeah. Yes, uh, of course.

Well, the NAACP asked Emmett Till's
mother to travel around the country

to speak about what
happened to her son,

and my folks are joining
the tour to pitch in.

I've decided that I
want to go with them.

After I help Toni with
a little something.

Wow. That's incredible.

- They're going to let you drop out of school?
- No.

But I got special
permission from Featherhead.

I'll have my books with me,

but I would love to
have a friend help me

stay on top of everything.

Okay. Yeah, I'll do it.

Thank you.

I so appreciate it.

- I'll be in touch, okay?
- Awesome.

I mean, um, swell.

Hey, Cheryl.

Can we talk to you for a second?

What can I do for you...
Toni, is it? And Betty.

Your family controls our
RIVW, which means they control

what Riverdale watches,

and Principal Featherhead

decides what I can and cannot
publish in the Blue and Gold.

The powers that be have
silenced my article

on Emmett Till's murder
trial, but you can fix this.

During the morning
announcements.

As junior class president,
I can't read an article

that Principal Featherhead
has already rejected.

Not an article.
Something else.

He'd pull the plug.
He's done it before.

We'll take care of Featherhead.

All you have to do is let us borrow
your soapbox for a few minutes.

What would I be reading?

Good morning, Miss Bell.

Are you ready for the
morning announcements?

Apparently, one of your
classmates, Tabatha Tate,

has passed out on
the football field.

Principal Featherhead
is tending to her now.

I'm to bring both him and
her some smelling salts.

Ugh, you don't say.

You know how to use a
microphone, don't you?

Indeed, I do.

Don't worry, Miss Bell. All will be well.

Toodles.

Good
morning, Riverdaleans.

In lieu of our usual morning
announcements, I, Cheryl Blossom,

will be turning
over my microphone

to one of our
classmates, Toni Topaz.

Please give her your
undivided attention.

Some of you may have heard what's
happening in Mississippi right now.

How a 14-year-old
boy, Emmett Till,

was murdered for maybe
whistling at a white woman

and how his killers
were just acquitted.

I wrote an article
about the trial,

and nobody wants you to read it
because it is "too upsetting."

So, instead, I'm going to read you a
poem that the great American writer

Langston Hughes wrote
about Emmett Till.

It's titled Mississippi-1955.

And I hope you hear his
words and reflect on them

and talk to each
other about them.

"Oh, what sorrow!
Oh, what pity!

Oh, what pain!

That tears and blood
Should mix like rain

And terror come
again To Mississippi.

Come again?

Where has terror been?

On vacation? Up North?

In some other section
Of the nation,

Lying low, unpublicized?

Masked-with only Jaundiced eyes

Showing through the mask?

Oh, what sorrow, Pity, pain,

That tears and blood
Should mix like rain

In Mississippi!

And terror, fetid hot,

Yet clammy cold remain."

I don't think any of
the students at Riverdale High

had ever heard a poem like that.

Hopefully, it was worth whatever
blowback the girls were certain to get.

The lies, the
insubordination, the trickery.

I did feel sick.

Then I felt better.

Surely you aren't saying
that we can't read poems

during the morning
announcements.

A poem written by one of
our greatest living authors.

All poems read during morning
announcements must be approved by me.

This is the first I've
heard of any such rule,

but I assure you,
moving forward,

all poems will be submitted
for your approval.

Cross my heart and hope to die.

I'm not sure what you ladies
think you've accomplished.

But something
had been accomplished.

Given recent events, it might
be fruitful for us to discuss

the poem Langston Hughes
wrote about Emmett Till.

How did it make you feel?

Angry.

Upset.

Hopeless.

Was he really just 14 years old?

He was.

He was younger than
all of us in this room.

Taken out of his home in
the middle of the night,

beaten, tortured.

His body thrown into the river.

That's just wrong.

Miss Topaz, Miss
Tate, Mr. Walker,

I understand that you were
in Mississippi for the trial.

If you're comfortable
sharing your experience,

I believe it would be
valuable for the rest of us

to hear about what you saw.

Miss Topaz.

Would you like to start?

Fitfully,
but also necessarily,

a conversation that might
not have happened for decades

began at Riverdale
High that afternoon.

♪ Please ♪

♪ Don't leave me ♪

♪ Don't leave me all... ♪

Hey, doll face.

What do you say?

You want a ride
to Pop's, Ronnie?

Hmm.

I see two paths before me.

Light and dark, fast and slow,

shallow and earnest.

But today...

I believe I'll
walk home, fellas.

♪ 'Cause you know Know... ♪

Had it
finally happened?

Had I lost my mind?

Maybe 1955 wasn't the dream.
Maybe... Maybe the future,

maybe that was the dream,

and I finally woke up.

Hi, stranger.

Mind if I join you?

Yeah.

I thought... I thought
you were leaving.

I'm not the Tabitha from 1955.

She's with her parents
heading to Memphis.

- I'm...
- Riverdale's guardian angel.

The Tabitha who
remembers and loves you.

Oh, my God!

You need to use
your chronokinesis

and get us the hell out of 1955.

Archie is trying to get me committed
to The Sisters of Quiet Mercy.

God, it's so... I'm
so happy to see you.

I am happy to see you too.

But I can't take us home.

Not yet.

Why? Well, why not?

Our last-minute gambit
to stop Bailey's Comet

from destroying
Riverdale didn't work.

So the comet hit?

And it triggered an
extinction level event.

Are... Are we all dead?

Is that... Is
that what this is?

- The sweet hereafter?
- No, we are alive.

In the past, I had a plan B.

At the moment of impact, I used
what was left of my life-force

to send everyone
back to the past

to a point far enough back that
might give us the necessary runway

to make it back to the
present, a present in which

Riverdale isn't destroyed.
By Bailey's Comet.

Is that even possible?

Hopefully.

But if it is, I
have to do it alone.

By exploring and untangling
the various timelines

that became knotted and
entwined when the comet struck.

Well, what about the rest of us?

You all have to make a
go of it here in the '50s

by doing what you can to ensure,

to paraphrase one of my heroes,

that the moral arc of this
universe bends towards justice.

That way, when I finally do
untangle the various timelines,

we can make it back
to a Riverdale that

isn't on the verge of moral
and societal collapse.

But fair warning.

Given the near infinite number
of timelines and universes,

it could take a while, so
you better get comfortable.

Oh.

I mean, how... How can I?

I remember everything
about our old lives?

You asking questions,
creating ripples...

that's what drew me here.

Jughead.

You remembering is an anomaly,

a dangerous one
that I'm here to fix

by making you forget.

Otherwise, your knowledge
could drive you insane,

or it could drive you to do something
that further corrupts this timeline.

Will I... I'll
forget everything?

Yes.

You'd be just like everyone else,
able to live in the present.

In the moment.

I don't... I mean, I don't want
to forget about you or about us.

I know.

But you have to.

It's for the best.

In those first few seconds
after Angel Tabitha disappeared,

I could feel the effects
of her kiss taking hold.

But for the moment,
I still remembered.

I needed to write down
everything, our stories,

our lives, before
it was too late.

But then, like mist
evaporating in the sun,

it was all gone.

I had only managed to
get down three words.

Bend. Towards. Justice.

Meaning what, exactly?

And that wasn't even
the weirdest thing.

That would be the sudden,
inexplicable appearance

of something I've
never seen before.