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Episode Notes and Observations by Gale Dumont

End of the World


This week: Last week we got a blast from the past, so it seems only fair that this week we get visited by the Ghost of Roswell Future. Except, you know, for the "fair" part. Seems that Tess left town and, as a result, Michael and Isabel end up dead. Gale pipes up that, um, she could stay in town if she was *with Kyle*, but since Gale doesn't live in the TV, no one listens to her. Oh, and if you listen really closely, you can actually hear Dreamgirl hearts across the country breaking en masse. Join us, won't you?

(Hi. As some of you may have noted earlier, I fully intended to write this while drunk. But somewhere around the second beer, I realized that wasn't going to work. I got through "Innocence" sober -- for those of you remember the Buffy/Angel train wreck that *was* "Innocence"; I fully expect tonight to be as bad, if not worse -- I'm gonna get through EotW sober. I may have a crying headache and puffy red eyes, but I'm gonna suck it up and take it like a man. Or a woman. Or, even better, a Dreamer. Anyway. Onward.)

The radio stations hate me today. They've been playing Fuel's "Hemorrhage (In My Hands)" all day -- shout-out to Mere! -- and I'm not helping matters, listening to Meat Loaf's "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad". And I didn't bring my Sheryl Crow tape with me. Dammit.

Oh, and they *had* to say Jason's name, didn't they?

Can I see Liz? Please? Oh my God I hate her hair. I hate FutureHair. It's official.

"I don't have any regrets." I do. It's called "End of the World", and we haven't hit opening credits yet.

I still have to type granilith! Does God hate me this week, or what?

Okay, maybe from a different angle, Liz's hair doesn't suck as much. Maybe. That makeup isn't helping matters, though. And I think she borrowed those clothes from the Buffy set.

Hondo! Woo! My cousin has friends there!

"It can never work out." But it did! We just saw it! We did! You had bad hair!

And Colin's on-screen! Pay attention; you won't see it again this week.

"...with the hybrid freaks." Still love Maria.

"A few moments of pure lust? Anything?" Colin. Cookie.

"It's good for sex, right?" "Are they a good 48 hours?"
> Oh, Liz said the D-word. Bad. It's been months since that aired, and I *still* can't hear That Word without wincing a little.

"No, no, no, no, see, that's impossible." Honey, no it's not.

"Intimacy, sex...you will not be left wanting." Oh, I'm framing Madame Vivian.

"I, Liz Parker, take you, Max Evans --" And how cute was Shiri? Seriously? Liz was all happy again. We haven't seen HappyLiz since "Crazy" -- *April*, for those of you keeping track of this sort of thing.

FutureMax -- wow, son. No sense of timing. You ruined the cute speech. Bad Max. Bad. Good reactions on Liz, though: utter and complete "What the *hell*?"

Ow! Max, stop with the Trek dialogue!

And yes, Liz, you're a science geek. Cope. I'm an English geek; I randomly comment on TV characters using double negatives. You whip out physics facts upon seeing a 31-year-old version of the love of your life, therefore you're a science geek.

"...and those gray hairs..." "Do you really see gray hairs?" This is going to be the ugliest thing ever.

Oh my God. We're gonna hear Jason *sing*? Who do I pay? Where do I make the check out to?

He got a *mariachi band*? Where the hell did Max get a mariachi band? And for the record -- Jason, I adore you totally, but let's leave the singing to Majandra, 'kay? You're not bad, but I'm comparing it to me singing, and I *suck*.

This is the cutest thing ever. Which means I *will* be a little ball of broken-hearted under my desk by 10 p.m.

"Is that Max again?" And it's John Doe! Yay! Parent Number Two! See, Jeff likes him. Which is why I like Jeff.

"Mikie G." -- um, no. No no no. Courtney, get back under the Buick. Tess is getting lonely.

"The slut wants in your pants." Maria is the coolest person ever. No joke. And she's not wrong.

"It's...complicated." I.E., "If I go see Max and tell him this bulls**t story, he would punch me in the face, take you somewhere to keep you safe, and then kill Tess. Which I wouldn't mind, but those stupid Writer guys are making me deliver this dialogue. God, I hate them. Can I kiss you? And you're not naked. Why aren't you naked?" I like my dialogue better.

"It's you I trust." Oh, but you want Max to end up with *Tess*? Dude, the logic train must have derailed somewhere between now and 2014, 'cause you are making no sense whatsoever.

Oh, God. Dawson's Creek ads. If you really loved me, WB, you'd show second season again so I could tape the Chris Wolf eps.

When did Michael get a motorcyle? I don't remember asking this show to go on without me.

Hear that noise? That's Candygirls across the country bursting into enraged shrieks

"I'm sick of Max Evans." Funny. I don't remember this transforming into a lovely, lovely dream...

"I never asked to be his mate." Good! We never asked you to be here, but we're stuck with your skank ass.

Kyle, honey, no. Don't hit on Tess with Buddhist proverbs. In fact, don't hit on Tess. Period. *Ever*.

Oh, Liz, just hit her. Just. Hit. Her. Once. Okay, twice. Oh, hell, beat her bloody. Best part of "Surprise", hands down.

"You hate me. You all do." Well, the characters don't seem to -- but the *fans* do. Those of us with brains, anyway.

If Mala or Helen says one *f**king* word about this ep, I will beat them into comas if I ever see them. I am not kidding. I do not need s**t from them. I just had to sit through a scene where Liz encouraged Tess to be with Max, and my stomach is roiling in rather unpleasant ways.

"Water sports. I like it." Courtney, just. Shut. UP.

Michael, Courtney has enough lotion to drown a pony. You don't think that's a little -- oh, I don't know...*odd*?

"I'm gonna retch." Sing it, sister.

And Maria slaps Michael. Now go slap Courtney, sweetie. And then slap Michael again, 'cause he's annoying me again

. The closed captioning says "Future Max". I hate being right.

"Rah rah." It's okay, sweetie. We hurt, too.

And now I have this funny oddly painful-kinda numb feeling in my arms, which is making it hard to type. Any second now, I'm going to start crying, and then it's *on*, brother man.

Don't quote Romeo and Juliet, okay? Romeo and Juliet *died*.

"Oh, we had a great wedding." Just listen to that note in his voice. That's *happy*. When was the last time Max was honestly happy? Last season?

25 minutes in, and I'm crying. S**t. Why am I crying? These are fictional characters. They're not *real*. I'm thisclose to putting FutureMax under the Buick of Annhilation, and I don't want to. But I will.

Oh, God, not the pain. I could stand anything but -- oh, God, now they're kissing. They're kissing and I'm crying. I hate this. I hate it. I hate it.

"But she can't be you. Tess can never be you."

"I can't go out with you ever again!" God, Max, just *listen*. If I tried to talk right now, I would sound like that.

"You're only making me love you more." Why is that a bad thing?

"Cemented?" I knew he was going to say 'we made love'. I knew it. And it still hurts.

The entire sex convo -- . Why am I still watching this? Shouldn't I be doing something more productive, like swallowing ground glass?

Oh, I was wrong. Colin *is* on-screen again. And now Majandra's crying too. I guess she's been watching the same ep we have.

Now Maria's crying is making *me* cry. S**t.

Naked chinups! Shout-out to Mere!

"Can you...put a shirt on, please?" That can't be Liz. Honey, that's not the right reaction. The right reaction would be, "Can you take your pants off? And your boxers? And then spread whipped cream all over my naked body and lick it off. We can go from there." And somewhere in that speech, she should probably use the word "c**k".

"I want to be in love with boys!" Why? You have a man right there, doing half-naked chinups.

You son of a bitch. Playing the guilt card. Oh, that's it. FutureMax is going under the Buick.

Maria's speech just killed me. I'm sitting here, tears streaming down my face, muttering that "If we don't have faith, who will?"

"I've never felt so awful, Liz." Try sitting on this side of the TV, Maria. I'd give you a run for your money.

Oh, with the awkward. FutureMax, shut UP. Please shut up. Jason, I love you, but whoever decided to make you an asshole this week...dude. You're just channeling Chris Wolf, aren't you? And Billy Fordham.

"Please stay out of earshot." And then let me kick you in the goolies, 'cause I'm burning to do that right about now. Then get back under the Buick so I can get back to watching Max and Liz "cement" their relationship.

"I'm here to help." Oh, I shouldn't be giggling. This is so not of the funny.

Hit him, Alex! Hit him!

Michael, don't bogart my "dude"'s.

"No one does that to Maria!" Alex! Cookie! All forms of cookie to you, O Kick-Ass One.

Alex hit him! Alex hit him!

And this is now officially the most depressing ep *ever*, all around, all factions. But at least Michael caught the clue bus.

The small talk is cute. Of course, I hate cute right now, but hey. And it's not doing anything for the tension in my back and shoulders.

Kyle didn't see anything. Interesting. More on that later, if I'm not in a coma immediately following the scenes for next week.



Tess: Don't start. Please. I am in no mood for you right now. I'm never in the mood for you, but especially not now.

FutureMax -- don't talk. Ever. No, seriously, SHUT THE F**K UP. I officially hate you. Show up in my apartment, dude; I've got a few things I'd like to say to you.

"There will never be another you."

"Do you want -- me to leave?" Yes. Go far, far away from Roswell and never come back.

Max...just don't, okay? Just don't. Please.

"We create our own destiny." Yeah, and you just f**ked hers up, Sunshine. Don't talk.

Great. Sheryl Crow.

Tess, what did I say? Just don't. Just. Don't. Max, don't encourage her. Bad alien. Bad.

And he's gone. And we've got to pick up the pieces. F**k.

MORE COHERENT STUFF:

This week? I don't *think* so.

It's now 9:55 p.m., Monday night, and I honestly don't think I've felt this bad since Buffy's second season, when we leared Angel + sex = evil Angel. I stalked through my house, ranting and raving, until my mom gently reminded me: "Gale. It's just a TV show."

Well, my mom's not here now to tell me this. And even if she were, I don't think I'd be listening. I'd be too busy clutching my pillow and sobbing.

No Bill or Katie this week. Good. We can move on with the pain.

Kyle - how much do I love him this year? I loathed Kyle Valenti for most of last season - leave us not forget that he did, bulls**t story notwithstanding, have Max beaten up for talking to Liz - but this season, I like him. I don't know if it's the Buddhism or the fact that he's not as much of an asshole since he came back from the dead, but I like him. I don't like him and Tess, but if I'm faced with Tess and Kyle or Tess and Max, I'm taking the Weschler of all evils, y'know? Loved him working Buddhist philosophy into trying to get Tess to screw him (which, you'll notice, she didn't seem to have any moral objection to - oh, whoops. You need morals to have a moral objection to something), loved the small talk with Liz. It's very obvious that Kyle doesn't love Liz anymore; they're just friends, it's all they're ever going to be, and they're okay with that. And so am I. Good Nick. Cookie.

Alex was actually on camera more than one scene. Points for that. And points for standing behind Maria, who was also having a s**tty week, and extra points for decking Michael. Yay, Alex! Can you stay? Forever, please? Good Colin. Cookie.

Courtney - no. Hate her. Not even a Candygirl, and I hate her. She's bucking Tess for "Most Obvious Character Ever" (and Tess is still way ahead in the point standings on this one), making people everywhere nauseous - for Chrissake, Michael, she had something like 75 bottles of hand lotion. That doesn't set off any sort of alarms? Jesus. And I wanted Maria to slap her, too, but oh well. Nice dive out the window, though you earn no points. And no cookie. Now get back under the Buick of Annihilation (hereafter called the Buick) with Tess.

Ah, Tess. Who needs subtle character shadings when you've got boobs that are too big for your body? Emilie still can't act - damn, woman, take a class. Take several. Then go back to Australia and hone your skills on Beastmaster a bit more. And don't show up on Farscape, because you've already ruined one show I like. You tipped Max off in a heartbeat, sweetie, and I almost started giggling. (Almost.) And let's not forget that in the future, Tess being rejected causes Michael and Isabel's death. Um, here's a thought: why don't you just KILL HER? Is this escaping everyone but me? Jesus. Or get her with Kyle; the two have some modicum of chemistry (all on Nick's part), and it would keep her from going all rejected-other-woman-in-a-TV-movie and killing people, so I'm all for it. No cookie, Emilie. Never cookie. Get used to it.

No Grant. You hear me complaining? No.

Maria... I feel for Maria; I do. She's my favorite character besides Max and Liz, and the one I genuinely like without wanting to smack her every week. Sometimes, but not often. She was jumping the gun a little with the Courtney thing, but Michael wasn't doing much in the way of defending himself, now, was he? No. Good girl. Hit him again. And then sitting in the Crashdown with Max, telling him, "None of us should be with any of you..." I started crying. Only non-Dreamer moment in the whole ep that had me crying. Good Majandra. Cookie.

Michael - remember all those not-completely insulting things I said about him last week? Chuck 'em. He's back to being Michael Guerin, Lord of the Assholes this week. You can tell, because he's got the crappy hair again. He's shamelessly flirting with Courtney, trying to get information out of her - at the start. But somewhere along the line, those Darned Alien Hormones kicked in, and I'm pretty sure he was macking on her for real. (Yes, I just wrote "macking on her". Suddenly I'm 14. Jesus.) 75 bottles of hand lotion - Michael, is the clue bus anywhere near your apartment? 'Cause you so need to catch it, like, now. And then he finds out that Courtney's a Skin (No! You're kidding! Really?), lets her dive through a window, and doesn't tell Max. Which I can understand, Max had enough of a time in those 48 hours, but still...And then he got slapped and punched. Brendan...he's a pretty good actor, but Michael annoyed the s**t out of me this week. I'm withholding cookie for Random Acts of Asshole.

Max and Liz -- I can do this. I can.

Oh, s**t, no I can't.

First of all, I hated FutureLiz's wig. Let's just get that out of the way right now. Are they buying crappy wigs wholesale this year? God.

There were, to be fair, cute/funny parts: Liz trying on the "veil" and rehearsing. Max singing - really, really badly. (Jason, honey...no. I love you, but no.) Changing the roses at the last minute. Shirtless chinups. The Kiss. Describing their wedding - which, for the record, was when I lost it and started crying. What was supposed to happen instead of the Gomez concert. (I'm adopting "goin' to see Gomez ", by the way, as my new euphemism for "really dirty sex". For the record.) The whole we've-been-married-for-12-years-so-I-know-what-you're-going-to-say-bef ore-you-do attitude FutureMax has - to a point, anyway. "I said approximately." The wedding dance.

There was cute, all right. We just had to suffer through torture to get to it. Pierce could learn a few things from Darth Katims.

I didn't want to hate Lorenzo - oh, excuse me, FutureMax. I didn't. He was bucking for "not all that bad, dumb-ass plan aside"...until the last two acts, at which point I summarily decided that he's going under the Buick (though not next to Tess, because, um, ew). You can rot there, buddy. Jeez, Max, what happened to you to make you an asshole 12 years from now? Let us know, so we can avoid it like the plague - or, even better, like Tess. I hope this isn't some sort of after-effect of being King, 'cause if it is, honey, you need to abdicate immediately, if not sooner. He's got his plan, and by God, no silly thing like the heart of the woman he loves is gonna stand in his way! Shut UP, FutureMax. Shut up, get under the Buick. No more Gomez for you. Asshole.

PresentMax - just Max, from this point on - was killing me. He was. Come on; which one of us didn't see "Say Anything" and start sniffling when John Cusack picks up the boom box and stands on top of the car? Not me. I'm not made of stone, people. He's serenading her; he's refusing to listen to her whole "I don't love you anymore" speech. He's kissing her, for Chrissake. Props to Liz for keeping her mind on FutureMax's craptacular mission past that point; I would have melted into a happy little Gale puddle and promptly told him the whole bloody story. And that heartbroken look on his face when he sees Liz and Kyle... I cannot say it enough: I love Jason. And not in that creepy stalker way, either. The man. Kicks. Ass. Props for keeping the two Maxes completely different - and for doing backwards chinups. Dude, I could never do that. I could hang there uselessly, flailing my legs and cursing, but that was it. Jason gets a cookie. Jason gets all the cookies. Double-Stuf Oreos, even.

Don't tell me Shiri Appleby can't act. The facial expressions, the raw pain, the little "rah rah"... Liz is the one I feel worst for, even more than Max; he doesn't know why she did it, and that's gonna eat him up inside, but she does know why she did it, and she can never tell him, and it's going to kill her. Very slowly, maybe, but a sliver of glass going through your chest doesn't have to pierce your heart immediately to stop it. She got this great news - she and Max got married! And they were happy! - only to realize that in order for Michael and Isabel to be alive, it can never be that way. But you're not given a load too heavy for you to carry; it doesn't work that way. Cookies for Shiri. She and Jason can share the Double-Stuf before heading on to the booze.

As for me...I was crying. (Duh. We all were crying.) I was sobbing like a 14-year-old girl going to Times Square to see the Backstreet Boys. But Anne asked me last night on the phone how I could crack jokes and not completely feel suicidal, and I think I've figured out why:

I have hope.

I know I shouldn't; I know Darth Katims doesn't want me to have any hope left. And to be fair, he did a pretty good job of burning it out of me last night. But he didn't get rid of all of it, and as long as I've got some, I'm still in the game.

I didn't start watching Roswell because I'm a sci-fi geek, although I am; I have Farscape and Lexx for that. I didn't start watching it because "oh, look, cute guys" (though to be fair, that might be one of the reasons I'm staying). I started watching the Pilot because it looked all right. I kept watching the Pilot because of Max and Liz, and the fact that the two of them had moved into my brain and were picking out dining room furniture before we got to the Crash Festival.

Last night hurt, yeah, no denying that. But there's still some part of me - some tiny, little seven-year-old who fell in love with Star Trek: The Next Generation, maybe - that can't just up and walk away.

So if everything went right, Max and Liz aren't married. Who says? The great thing about the future is that it's always changing. That doesn't mean that that's how things are gonna work out. We have, at this point, another 12 episodes to get through; we get five more, we've got a full second season. And I can't believe that Darth Katims, eeeevil as he is, would do that to us. I can't.

After all, didn't Darth Vader turn away from the Dark Side in "Return of the Jedi"?

Total: 4 out of 5 stars. Hell of a way to maximize (no pun intended) the angst, guys -- now can we dig our way *out* of the black pit of depression? Please?

Gale