While navigating the troubled waters of romance, school and family, Archie and his gang become entangled in dark Riverdale mysteries.
– And all this time, I thought you were a lover, not a fighter.
– I'm both. I've got layers.
You were doing something nice. It's just that sometimes, when people do nice things for me, I short circuit. Maybe I'm not used to it. Maybe I'm scared. Of getting hurt. Or being rejected... for being myself.
Weekdays, from 08:25 a.m. to 15:01 p.m., we adhere to a strict regimen. Everything in our lives controlled. But then something like the murder of Jason Blossom happens, and you realize there is no such thing as control. There is only chaos. Nevertheless, some of us strive to impose and maintain order in what is, fundamentally, an orderless world. A fact which would very soon be confirmed. In ways none of us could have foreseen.
– Whoa, where the hell are you going?
– WHAT?! You want to give me some advice on my right hook?
– I want you to go back inside and talk to your girl.
– I don't think it's gonna work out. Irreconcilable differences.
– Don't run away from it. Don't run away. You've got something good here. With her, with your friends. Something that... something that we could never give you. Also, man up. After what I just saw in there, she needs you.
Trust me, no one will remember anything. Except maybe that I accused Cheryl of twincest.
– Why are they doing this?
– They're agents of chaos, Kevin. They don't need a reason.
– I'm messed up, Veronica...
– We all are, Archie. And, honestly, you less than most.
You catatonic bimbos didn't even vote. So you stuttering sapheads are too dim to exercise your own rights, and you've got the combined vocabulary of a baked potato. Consider this your last practice as River Vixens, and your last week as my social handmaidens. You're fired on all fronts. That's all. Shoo, bitches.
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