archie
My Mom and Dad gave me that guitar for my
birthday and I made us all play Rock
Band?
(Betty nods, does she ever)
-- anyway, to pass the time at work, I
started composing these...poems, in my
head. Then, at night, I’d get home, and
I’d write them down. And -- try to fix
them. Revise them.
BETTY
The Robert Frost of Rockland County...
ARCHIE
It took me half the summer to realize they
weren’t poems, they were song lyrics. And
the other half to realize...uhm...
BETTY
What, Archie?
ARCHIE
(almost ashamed to admit it)
...I don’t want to pour concrete for the
rest of my life, Betty. Or whatever my
dad’s, like, grooming me to do. Manage
the guys who pour the concrete. I wanna
be... (I can’t even say it, it sounds so
stupid...)
BETTY
You wanna be the guy...who writes songs... about the guys who pour the concrete?
Archie’s looking away -- at Jughead, in his booth, at the other
end of the diner. A quick wave -- Jughead waves back -- then,
Archie turns back to Betty for some truth-telling --
ARCHIE
You’re lucky you were away this summer,
Betty, it was -- messed-up. It messed me
up. The stuff with the Blossoms, it was --
hardcore.
BETTY
That’s what my mom and dad said.
(then)
What was it like?
ARCHIE
...surreal. For three days, everyone in
town met by the river, waiting for Jason
to...surface. And every day he didn’t,
less and less people would show up.
(darkly)
I’m never going back to Sweetwater River.
That place is cursed.