Phew. Sorry this is late, kids. My VCR decided some time last week to stop recording anything, but I didn't find that out until Sunday, when I sat down to write my recap. So Sars mailed me her copy. And it got to my door all sort of, like, smashed and shit. But I sat down with a common dinner fork -- a fork, people! -- and sort of reassembled it! I am the MacGyver of recappers!
So, here we are. The end. At long, sweet last. My thanks to Sars, for giving me this assignment and then for listening to me complain about it, like, a lot. And for being a great editor. ["An honor and a pleasure, my dear." -- Sars] And to the readers for being so kind to me, when I stepped into her big shoes. And to Diet Coke, for getting me through the long nights. And tequila, for getting me through today.
So, you read Part One, right? Okay. Let's finish this thing.
We open at Capeside General Hospital For Untimely Deaths. "I'm sure Mimi Rogers is somehow responsible for poor Jen's mysterious illness," my Mulder action figure comments. The Scully, for once, is in complete agreement with him. A banner day in action figure land. Jack confronts Joey, Pacey, and Dawson in the hallway, backed by Grams, who's cuddling Baby Amy. Jack's all, here's the deal: she doesn't want you to be all mopey and shit, even though she's got the consumption. No crying! Joey sniffles that she can't promise to remain tear-free. "Who could?" Dawson asks, sort of flippantly. "Then leave. Jen's rules," Jack tells them curtly, and Grams tells them that Jen wants them remain upbeat. "One at a time," Jack says. Joey snuffles that she can't believe Jen is dying when she's so busy trying to decide between Pacey and Dawson for the nine hundredth time. "Who wants to go first?" Jack asks, and everyone looks at Pacey, who just sort of chuckles. "Send in the clown, huh?" he asks.
Pacey appears in Jen's room with flowers and a wide, fake smile. "So, they sent you in first," she announces, and he responds that he's the opening act. "You can start by wiping that fake smile off your face," she says. What do you want, Jen? Crying or not? Pacey does, and sits on the bed and gives her a proper, genuine smile. "Say something," she says. She's awfully demanding on her deathbed. "Well, Jack tells me you're dying. But other than that, everything's okay, right?" he smiles, and Jen chuckles. Good old Pacey. If I had to die, out of all of them, I'd most want him by my bedside. Naked. Oops, did I say that?