The year is 1955, and nothing like this had ever happened in Riverdale.
One of our own, Ethel Muggs, had stumbled into the sock hop,
covered in, we would soon find out, her parents' blood.
Both were dead, stabbed multiple times.
Oh...
What did Ethel say?
Did she see the killer?
Well, your friend's keeping mum,
but she claims
that the milkman killed her parents.
Willie?
He's 70 years old.
He is.
Well, are you going to bring him in for questioning?
It's late and Willie could use his rest,
so we'll, uh... We'll talk to him tomorrow
after he's done his morning deliveries.
It's tragic, yes.
But why bring her here, Alice?
She has nowhere else to go, Hal.
Her parents are dead.
It's the least we can do for her, don't you think?
Think how this will affect Betty.
That's all I ever think about,
is the well-being of this family.
Which is more than I can say for you.
We're gonna make up my sister's old room for you.
Here are some fresh towels.
If you need anything at any point, just come find me.
Okay?
I don't know what else they want me to say.
It's... It's almost like they think that maybe I...
Ethel, is there anyone who saw you
before you went back to your house?
Anyone who could be an alibi?
No.
No, I was alone.
I'm so sorry that this happened to you.
Please try to rest, okay?
We're here for you.
Whatever you need.
But Betty's entreaties did little to comfort Ethel,
who didn't say another word that night.
Which only added to the mystery.
Is Ethel hiding something?
And why did her milkman story sound so familiar to me?
It is high time that you got yourself a boyfriend, Cheryl.
Mother, I don't have time for boys.
- I'm far too busy. - Doing what?
- Painting naked ladies? - Mother!
What nerve? That's homework for art class!
You could help, you know?
Isn't there some nice, normal boy you could introduce her to?
I'm just worried she's, uh...
developing unnatural proclivities, shall we say?
What are you talking about, Mom?
Find your sister a suitable match, immediately.
Do I make myself clear?
That was quite the scene at the sock hop.
Do you know that poor girl?
Not really.
I mean, she's Ethel. She kind of...
She kind of keeps to herself.
Well, not to pivot gracelessly, but...
Listen, Archie, I'm really sorry we got off on the wrong foot.
Could we maybe try again?
I... I really appreciate the apology.
Look, the truth is, Veronica,
I just... I don't think we're a good match.
I mean, you're too much of a handful for a guy like me.
What happened to the Muggs family is a tragedy.
It's all the children are talking about.
The parents are calling.
Asking how we plan to address this situation.
Well, I believe the most prudent course of action is to simply carry on
with the week's preapproved lesson plans.
Yes!
What's on the docket this week, Ms. Bell?
Well, in fact, the juniors are scheduled
to have their PTA-approved sexual education lecture.
But we could postpone it.
On the contrary, I will give the lecture myself.
Splendid idea, Dr. Werthers.
Business as usual.
That's the ticket.
Tough luck about Veronica, chum.
I guess it wasn't in the cards for you two.
Yeah, I guess not.
It's probably for the best.
I mean, girls like Veronica run hot and cold
and it takes a certain kind of man to ride that roller-coaster.
- A man like you, I'm guessing? - Pretty much.
But if you're hankering for a steady girlfriend,
Cheryl's available.
Cheryl?
Thanks, but no thanks.
Why not?
You don't think my sister is a honey?
No, I mean, come on, Chery's gorgeous.
- But... - But what?
Well, she's always seemed a little standoffish to me.
I mean, I've never seen her with a steady boyfriend or anything.
She's had boyfriends. College guys, mostly.
You know what they say about girls who like older men, right?
No, what...
What do they say?
They're a lot more...
open-minded than most high school girls
if you catch my drift.
You take Cheryl out,
you're made in the shade, daddio.
Something tells me she'd...
really go for a stud like you.
Think about it at least.
Hey, Blossom, wait up.
What is it, Serpentina?
I'm putting on a little performance at the Dark Room tonight.
And I have a feeling it might razz your berries.
Kindly mark me down as a definitive, "No, thank you."
Ta-ta.
Think same old Topaz always going after the straight-laced square girls.
You know there's no future there for you, right?
I'm not so sure about that, Lizzo.
What's your problem, Topaz?
Am I too much woman for you?
My problem with you
is that you're a high school dropout and you're too territorial.
But I'll see you at the Dark Room.
And what makes you think I'm going?
Get over yourself, Lizzo.
I know you wouldn't miss it.
Kevin, you okay?
You seem a little froggy.
You know, jumpy, kind of like you're avoiding someone.
No, uh... I just... I had too much Highpoint this morning.
It's okay, Kevin.
What are you doing tonight?
Do you want to come to an open mic at the Dark Room?
A bunch of us hepcats are performing.
Um...
The Dark Room,
isn't that the beatnik hangout?
It's a coffeehouse, Kevin.
Do you have plans or not?
I was going to maybe see The Seven Year Itch with Betty.
But she might like going to the Dark Room.
She won't regret it.
And...
neither will you.
Cheryl, I've been looking for you.
Cool painting.
Why, pray tell, have you been searching for moi?
Um...
What are you... What are you doing tonight?
I was wondering if you wanted to go see The Seven Year Itch with me at the Babylonium?
I have already seen it and found it egregiously overrated.
Oh, okay. Well...
However, there is an event at the Dark Room tonight.
Some sort of poetry reading.
I wasn't going to attend in fear of being slimed by a greaser.
But with the proper escort, I might relent.
- Poetry reading? - Hmm.
Well, I've actually just started writing poetry myself.
How peachy keen for you.
Pick me up at 7:00?
Hey, doll face.
Wanna go to the Babylonium tonight?
The Seven Year Itch is playing.
Drop dead, Julian.
You know, if you're still pining after Andrews,
don't hold your breath.
Word on the street is he's going to something
at the beatnik bar tonight with Cheryl.
I want to go. To the Dark Room.
I didn't know you were into the whole beatnik scene.
Oh, I'm into a lot of scenes, Julian.
Pick me up at 8:00.
Sorry to bother you, there, Willie,
but we got to follow every lead, even the crazy ones.
Let me walk you out.
Ethel...
What happened?
It wasn't the milkman.
Or at least not that milkman.
So it was another milkman?
Or someone dressed like one, I don't know.
Jughead...
I'm really, really scared.
What if Sheriff Keller starts to think that I did it?
Why would he do that?
You know those pretend covers I'm always drawing?
Yeah. They're super boss.
Do you remember my meat grinder cover?
Yeah?
Oh...
Oh, God, Ethel.
Ethel's drawing depicted a girl
who happened to look like Ethel,
shoving dismembered body parts
that happened to look like they belong to her parents
into a meat grinder.
It was a goof, Jughead.
I was just mad at my parents for not letting me go see The Tingler.
And now I'm afraid that Sheriff Keller is gonna...
misinterpret it.
- Where's the drawing? - In my hope chest.
I would get them myself,
but I just... I don't think I can face going back into that house.
Not so soon.
Okay. It's fine.
I'm gonna get it. I'm gonna go tonight.
Yeah.
Excuse me, young lady.
Where do you think you're going?
Kevin and I are going to a poetry reading.
Not before you march over to Ethel's house
and bring that girl back another change of clothes or two.
Chop-chop.
Oh, thank God.
The cops!
Here is why Ethel's milkman story sounded so familiar.
It reminded me of a comic book Pep had published.
One of their most infamous issues,
about a lunatic who escapes from an insane asylum,
dresses up as the town milkman
and starts murdering people.
Ethel and I had both read it.
Then again, everyone had.
I'm sure it was a coincidence. It had to be.
But it wouldn't look good for Ethel
to be caught with it, no matter what.
And to the republic that falls short.
One nation under siege, indefensible.
With liberty and justice for none.
All are beat. All are beat.
Gratitude.
Keen, but what does it mean?
It's art, Betty. It doesn't need to mean anything.
I mean, it didn't even rhyme, really.
- Poetry doesn't have to rhyme. - Here.
This might help make the evening more tolerable.
Immortal Aphrodite
on your shimmering throne.
Daughter of Zeus, weaver of wiles,
I pray thee.
Crush not my spirit nor my soul
with anguish and distress.
Oh, queen.
Come release me from cruel cares.
Let my heart accomplish all that it desires.
Mine, as I am yours.
Take me.
I want to leave.
- What? - Take me home, now.
Well, good night, Cheryl.
I had a real nice time.
I wasn't expecting that.
Walk me to school tomorrow.
Yeah, sure.
Okay.
It's a date.
Toodles.
Oh, my golly.
Who knew the Dark Room was gonna be such a gas?
Isn't Clay just an astonishing writer?
I can't stop thinking about his poem.
I'm still reeling from Toni's dance poem.
It was pretty sexy, don't you think?
I suppose.
You suppose?
Kevin, it was jaw-dropping.
As I'm sure you're aware,
based on your eager,
sweaty faces,
today's lesson will be focusing on the fundamentals of...
sexual reproduction.
Your bodies are changing right now.
It can be a confusing time.
You have many questions, no doubt.
But first, first,
let's begin with a very useful diagram.
Much can be gleaned from the typical American flower,
whose sole function, with its colorful petals
and its pleasing contour, is pollination or reproduction.
I'm so confused.
What do flowers and bees have to do with us?
Nothing. I don't know what that speech was about.
But recently I got my hands on a copy of Kingsley's Guide to Human Sexuality.
That's got the real skinny.
This is ridiculous.
If you fuddy duddies truly want to learn about S-E-X,
we have to stop talking about it and start doing it.
I'm going to host a make-out party and you're all coming.
Thanks, but no thanks.
I'm a germaphobe.
Is that like an orgy?
No, it's kissing games.
Spin the Bottle, Post Office, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Pony Ride.
And trust me,
nothing is ever gonna be the same again.
In that moment, before our very eyes,
Veronica Lodge became a Georgia O'Keeffe lotus
and Archie Andrews a hapless bumblebee.
Gosh, a real-life make-out party.
I'll have to check my book to see what Dr. Kingsley says about them.
Between you and me, it all boils down to this.
Boys think they're in charge,
but it's all about our pleasure, not theirs.
Well, right now, I don't think either me or Kevin are experiencing much pleasure.
Hmm.
The more direct you can be with your beau, the better.
I botched it playing coy with Archie.
But I'll make my desires crystal clear to him at the party.
Hey, Blossom.
You didn't stick around after my performance last night.
Did you dig it?
It was a little... avant-garde for my sensibilities.
Archie thought the same.
You have heard we're going steady, have you not?
Yeah. We've all seen you parade him around
like he's some kind of prize stud.
You know, you don't have to go to some make-out party
to pretend to be somebody you're not.
Why exactly does everyone presume to know my personal life?
You're worse than my hobgoblin mother, and that's saying a lot.
Kev, can we talk for a sec?
It's about the make-out party.
Yeah. Yeah. I was thinking, why don't we ditch that?
No. We're going.
It's happening tonight, Kevin, you and me.
Because you say that you love me
and now it's time that you proved it.
We'll cut right to the chase, Jughead.
Did you break into Ethel Muggs' house yesterday?
Uh, I'm pretty sure that I was just at home
writing and eating hamburgers.
Because there's a neighbor there
that reported someone matching your description.
Teenager wearing a crown exiting a window.
Well, that wasn't me.
- Hmm. - You are a...
Well, you're a bit of an odd duck,
aren't you, Mr. Jones?
A loner.
Like Miss Muggs.
Is she your girlfriend?
She's just a friend.
Are you protecting her now?
Maybe you helped her do something bad and...
now you have to protect yourself, too.
I wasn't at Ethel Muggs' house last night,
and I'm not her boyfriend
or an odd duck loner, whatever that means.
In fact, I'm going to a party tonight.
With all the cool kids.
- Really? - And... And for the record,
the Ethel that I know would not kill her parents.
You're barking up the wrong tree.
Now can I go, please?
Yeah.
You're free to go.
Oh, enjoy your party tonight.
Oh, uh, hey, Clay. Um...
Thought I missed the locker-room rush.
What can I say?
I love a long, lingering shower.
Um... Are you going to that make-out party?
I don't think so.
Why not?
Because...
I like boys, Kevin.
And I don't think it's that kind of party.
Uh, that... That makes sense.
Obviously, most people don't know that about me.
I hope I can trust you to be discreet.
Of course, Clay.
Uh, I gotta go. Um...
- Gotta get ready. - All right.
- Hey, Betty. - Hmm?
You know that, um...
sex book you mentioned?
I was wondering if I could have a little read.
Um...
Just so I can brush up before the make-out party.
Of course.
What do you think of Dr. Kingsley?
I mean, I think... I think I get it.
I just...
But how does it all start?
That's the easy part.
Okay, so say you're sitting side-by-side
next to Cheryl like this.
Maybe some music starts playing.
Now you might want to say something like...
"Cheryl, would you like to get a bit more comfortable?"
Say, would you like to get a bit more comfortable?
Why, yes, I would.
Then...
she might...
do this.
Oh.
And then what?
And then...
Oh!
- I'm sorry, Betty. - What? No. It's okay.
I'm sorry.
Now, before we break off
and retreat into the Pembrooke's various dark corners,
I thought we could warm up
with a perfectly innocent round of Post Office.
Now, boys, each of you is holding an envelope
containing a number which corresponds to one of us girls.
You must deliver your envelope to that girl
along with a kiss.
Fangs, would you like to get us started?
- Reveal your number and the girl you'll be kissing.
Okay.
Number two.
That's me.
I bet you've never kissed a greaser before.
I don't even eat French fries.
But rules are rules.
Forgive me, Midge.
Don't worry, square.
I brushed my teeth earlier this week.
- Ugh! - Oh!
Whoa! Was that cheating?
It's skirting the edge,
but hopefully Kevin will give us what we all want.
Which is a real kiss.
Kevin?
Uh, number three.
I'm three.
Hold your head still.
All right, let's just get this over with.
One.
That's me.
This oughta be good.
Nice to meet you, by the way.
Pleased to make your acquaintance.
Thank you.
Five.
Wow. That's me.
How did that happen?
Excuse me, brother.
I guess this is what's known as a date with destiny.
She's gonna suffocate him.
But what a way to go.
I think I got your gum.
You can keep it.
It's Triple Bubble.
Guess that leaves me and the Wild One.
Luckily, I've had all my shots.
Yeah. That's not a kiss, preppie.
This is a kiss.
Okay.
Now that all of our lips are appropriately lubricated,
we pair off.
I, for instance, might sneak off with...
Come along, Archie.
Let's find a private space away from prying eyes.
What do you say?
Shall we go to your room?
Actually...
You.
Me?
You just hit the jackpot, Holden Caulfield.
I guess that leaves the two of you.
We could finish what you started.
In your dreams, prepster.
I will, however, let you drive me home
in that sweet ride of yours.
Don't, Hal.
I've already called Social Services
and she's going back to school tomorrow.
Thank you, Alice.
Of course, dear.
Look, I don't know what it is that you plan on doing to me,
but I should probably let you know
the only reason I'm here
is because I don't want people thinking I'm a miscreant
that helped Ethel murder her parents.
Funny.
Sounds exactly like something a miscreant murderer would say.
Relax.
I just needed a warm body to help me get away from Julian Blossom.
That guy's an octopus.
Well, glad I could help.
By the way, what was with that Holden Caulfield reference?
Well, isn't that your thing?
"Everybody's phony except me."
No, I just meant that not everyone in Riverdale goes around
name dropping literary anti-heroes.
People do read in Los Angeles, you know.
So what's your dealio?
If you're not dating Ethel Muggs, then who are you dating?
Uh...
Who has time for dating?
What with all these comics to read and burgers to eat
and monster movies to watch?
I like monster movies.
The scarier the better.
Mm.
I'll tell you my favorite if you tell me yours.
Ladies first.
Creature from the Black Lagoon.
- Really? - Yeah.
- That's actually my favorite, too. I love it. - Really?
You know, you kind of remind me of the girl in the white bathing suit.
- Julie Adams? I get that a lot. - Mm-hmm.
You're not excited.
Of course I am.
No, you're not, Kev.
I can tell that you're not excited.
You're not... aroused.
Maybe if we just... If we just keep kissing, you know?
You can move your right hand a little higher if you want.
Oh, not that high, Archie.
As my nana likes to say,
"Let's leave room for the Holy Spirit."
Okay?
- Archie, your right hand again. - Oh.
I'm sorry if I'm screwing this up.
I just... I'm excited.
And a little nervous maybe because...
you're so experienced.
You know, you're used to going out with college guys.
Who told you that?
Julian.
Why were you and Julian talking about me?
Well,
I mean, he suggested that I ask you out.
Yeah, he said we might hit it off.
Archie, I'm going to be honest with you.
I've never been with a college guy.
I've actually never really been with any guy.
But...
I'm quite certain we can figure it out.
Together.
Definitely.
Dear Diary.
The make-out party was unsurprisingly a disaster.
I want Kevin to want me.
I want to feel desired.
I want to feel sexy.
I want...
I'm not sure how much more of this I can take before I explode, Diary.
Something has to change.
And soon.
My dear boy,
any updates on our little project?
We're made in the shade, Mother.
Got Cheryl together with Archie
and I'm fairly certain they're going steady now.
Very good, Julian.
Well done.
Good morning, Mother.
- Julian. - Cheryl Marjorie Blossom.
What is that lesion on your neck?
It's a hickey, Mother.
And I suppose you both should know Archie pinned me last night.
And I mean, really pinned me.
As in, all the way pinned me.
Barf.
That must be Archie.
He's driving me to school.
I'd say he's a true gentleman, but...
the truth is, Archie is a total animal.
Toodles.
Kevin, I have something for you.
What is it?
Kingsley's Guide to Human Sexuality.
Betty, we're at school.
You need to read it.
Think of this as your own personal sex education, Kevin.
Finals are coming up and it's time to start cramming.
Betty. Betty!
Hey.
I just wanted to say fun party last night.
Sorry I had to cut out early.
But, you know, I'm playing the long game.
Really, with who?
I'd rather not say... yet.
But how did it go with Bazooka Jones?
Well, if you really must know,
Jughead and I spent the entire night together.
Talking.
Holy hell.
Are you making a play for that crown-wearing clown?
Let's just say I'm not ruling it out.
- Oh, my God. - It's her.
- There she is. - -The girl who killed her parents.
What is she doing here?
Everyone's looking at me like I'm a murderer.
Hey, this is all going to blow over.
As soon as the actual killer is caught, okay?
Right now, just take it nice and slow.
Attention, students.
Will Ethel Muggs and Jughead Jones
please come to the principal's office?
Ethel Muggs and Jughead Jones,
please report to the principal's office.
Let me guess.
You'd like to know who was canoodling at the make-out party?
We searched your train car, Jughead,
right after you left for school this morning.
- Wha... Why? - In any case,
we found some pretty damning evidence stuffed underneath your mattress.
Care to explain, Miss Muggs?
Mr. Jones?