Isabel thinks it's the last scene of Our Town as she sits in front of Alex's gravestone talking to him and listening as he responds. Alex was born on the first day of the summer solstice, and I'm going to go ahead and let that piss me off for some unknown reason. Also, he was born in 1984, and I'm going to go ahead and let that piss me off for some completely obvious reason. And his little headstone reads, "May your song always be sung." Because the Whitss are so playing daily tribute concerts in his absence. Or is that another metaphor? This show has made me so literal I can only take things at the most face value possible. That, and I think the special effects on Buffy are totally freakin' awesome. Ugh. Look what has become of me. Isabel stares at the ground and asks, "How can I leave now? I haven't even lived yet." From behind her appears Alex "Still Not Totally All The Time Dead" Whitman, who has apparently gone modified Caesar cut as a result of having met Caesar himself, and floated down from Cloud Nine with a completely new floppy 'do. He teaches very important lessons to us uncelestial scrapes down here: "I know how scary it is to have to leave. Leave this world. But it turns out, it's not so bad. Your heart is your heart, your soul is your soul, that doesn't change." Heart and soul? That's what we learned in heaven school today? Isabel doesn't have to worry about interplanetary travel because she still has her soul? Why doesn't he tack on that she'll be fine hurtling out of the Earth's atmosphere in a scale-model ice cream cone as long as she has the correct balance of bodily humors and black bile? His soul? Go back home, Alex. Heaven must be missing a clich-angel. But before you go, you might want to take just a second from the platitudes and, oh, I don't know, tell Isabel who killed you? Isabel tells Alex that the night at the prom was one of the greatest of her life, and they dance again. Dancing on his grave. I have advocated this practice for Alex Whitman many times. Sheesh. I wasn't overly offended the first time I watched this episode, but the tides are changing. They let him keep his hip, skater chain. Casual Friday in heaven.
Still in the Alienmobile, still under cover of still darkness. Impulsively, Max pulls over to the side of the road and tells Liz, "There's something I need to tell you. It's about Tess and me." Liz impatiently tells him that she knows that they're together, but it turns out he's got another bomb to drop: "We spent the night together." Max? Just bottom out and call it "making whoopee" already so I can stop making fun of the ten million old-man expressions these people have put in your mouth. Nevertheless, it's better to have the Stones in your head than England Dan, and I don't think there's anyone out there who's going to disagree with me, up to and including England Dan himself and England Dan's entire family and all of his friends and John Ford Coley and his mom, too. Liz expresses an inability to express shock. Natch. So he drives it home: "Liz, Tess is pregnant." The "writer" knows that Act I must end with a dramatic turn. But really, we already knew that one. Not a turn. Not a twist. The "writer" thinks it might be okay to end with a straight line. And so he does.