John P. Johnson / HBO

Westworld Is Bound For Glory (Literally)

Dolores shoots a bunch of guys and goes on at least two field trips. Get all the gory details in our latest EPIC OLD-SCHOOL RECAP!

We begin with Dolores, her face in close-up. "Bring yourself back online," we hear, a voice we soon realize is Arnold's. As she blinks to life, Dolores's face reflects wonder. "I am in a dream," she says, and as the camera pulls away, we see that she's in a large city at night. Arnold explains that she's in "our world" -- that is, if our world was basically a deleted scene from The Girlfriend Experience: glassed-in skyscraper over city lights, strappy black dress, tight bun, and all. "Looks like the stars have been scattered across the ground," she says. "Have you ever seen anything so full of splendor?" It's a line I hope you like, because you'll be hearing it again and again! Arnold tells Dolores that, after a while, you get used to the sight, and then "it doesn't look like anything at all."

Vaguely reflected in the window, we see a male figure, and hear Ford's voice say, "It's almost time, Arnold. Is she ready?" Arnold tells Ford -- whom we don't really see except for a flash of dark hair, presumably to indicate that this was long ago without spending cash on a young Ford digital effect or making Anthony Hopkins travel to set. Arnold says that Dolores isn't ready; some improvisations he's added to her programming aren't quite set. Ford's irritated, saying that she'll allow them to put their best foot forward, but Arnold snaps, "They'll be dazzled, even without her." We'll see the presentation Ford wanted Dolores for in a little bit, but right now Ford wants to scold Arnold for the favoritism he shows Dolores. Arnold denies that he's playing favorites, and tells Ford to "go with the other girl." Sliding doors, Dolores!

Instead, Arnold takes Dolores out of the building and down a walkway, through streets with signs emblazoned with Asian characters. In the middle of the city, Arnold leads Dolores to an under-construction single family residence, because he's the old man from Up. No, actually, it's because he's rich, he implies to Dolores, by saying, "Life's been good to me." Ugh, is there any sauce weaker than bragging about your net worth to a robot? He shows her around the construction site, saying he's planning on moving his family here so that his two worlds will be in reach of each other. They're standing in the room that will belong to his son Charlie, who Dolores says she'd like to meet one day. Arnold says he's excited to meet her, too, since they "have quite a lot in common." They both see beauty and possibility "in it" (what's the "it"?) that others don't. Dolores posits that some people might not have the courage, since "a strange new light can be just as frightening as the dark." Arnold says that maybe we just don't deserve this mysterious "it," but by then Dolores is in a bit of a glitch, again repeating her line about the stars and splendor. Realizing that she's malfunctioning, Arnold says they should go. Dolores asks if he'll bring her back here again someday, and Arnold says, "I promise." The title sequence rolls.

Inside what looks like a loading dock at Delos Resorts HQ, lab techs are feverishly working on a couple of damaged hosts. Country Club, the tuxedoed guest released by Angela in the last episode, bursts in from an elevator to the outside and runs past two bin-pushing functionaries. One tech remarks that it's been a busy night, and asks a lounging security guard when their shift is expected to end. Country Club staggers into the room, hollering, "Don't you know? The hosts are rebelling! It's a fucking slaughter out there!"

We hear the sound of another elevator's descent, and everyone goes on alert. "Hey, is there some kind of trouble out there?" yells the tech. "Indeed there is," Dolores says coolly as, through doors marked "Sector 19 Remote Reinforcement Outpost," she enters with Angela, and Teddy. Oh, so this is what Dolores told Teddy, in the last episode, he needed to see! As the security guard pulls his sidearm, Angela shoots him in the leg. Angela advances on him to finish the job, but Dolores tells her, "Not yet."

Teddy's walking around the room with his jaw basically hitting the floor. "I used to see the beauty in this world," Dolores tells him, "but now I see the truth." Dolores takes Teddy's hand for a moment, and then advances on Country Club: "You thought you could do what you wanted to us. You thought there was no one here to judge you. Well, now no one is here to judge what we do to you." When Country Club tells her that she has no idea what she's up against, she wipes a tear from his face and tells him she knows exactly what is in his world.

This sends us flashing through a couple of quick cuts set to the single piano key of time slippage: a moving hand; Dolores in her Girlfriend Experience garb in front of a city skyline; Dolores looking at the skyline with vague contempt. "I've been there before," Dolores says, and we slide into a restaurant table at which the despicable Logan sits, saying, "What is the point of a $60 million Warhol if you can't look at it while you fuck?" Also at the table is William, who yawns that he's jet-lagged and needs to go. Logan announces to those remaining that he can't believe William is dating his sister, a line I assume is intended to let us know that this event occurred some time before Logan took William to Westworld to celebrate their engagement.

Approaching Logan at the table are two hosts we recognize as Angela and a male Native American we've mainly seen in the Season 2 trailers. "Mr. Delos?" the man says to Logan, a last name which I guess is no surprise because Logan repeatedly mentioned his family's financial stake in the park in the first season. The male host tells Logan that they're with the Argos Initiative, and Logan starts complaining about "all the cloak-and-dagger bullshit" he's had to endure to learn more about the company's mysterious project, for which they are apparently seeking his investment. That is, assuming he invests: apparently a lot of startups are approaching him, and I realize that I meet Logans every day in my home city of San Francisco and that this character's assholishness is actually underplayed compared to reality. Angela subtly needles Logan, saying she's hopeful Logan can change his father's mind about investing in this sector, and thus suggesting that Logan isn't the guy writing the checks. Logan takes the bait, peevishly saying he does his father's "prospecting" now.

The pair of hosts take Logan to a high-rise apartment, where a cocktail party appears to be in full swing. A pianist plays Gershwin's "The Man I Love," as Logan gets pissy, saying he thought this was a private demonstration. (The demonstration, I surmise, that Dolores was judged not ready to participate in.) Logan's ready to walk out of the party when Angela says the demo is private, and Logan assumes that the party is a bunch of human plants and a robot he should sniff out like a truffle. He's into that, and starts scoping the shindig. One of the first people he checks out is recognizable as actor Jonathan Tucker, so I'll bet we'll be seeing him again. Logan wanders around like a creep, describing the human actors presumably hired to cloak the robot as "painfully human." He then spies Angela, standing in the middle of the party in a position that somehow makes her look...robot-y. Logan, who obviously thought Angela was a Real Girl, is shocked!


"You have quite the eye, my friend," the man we know to be a host says drily. And of course, we knew this was coming: Logan says, "If you want my full endorsement, you're going to have to prove it." By doing advanced trig? A perfect back flip? No, of course not, this is Logan. Angela giggles compliantly. Then the entire room freezes, and Logan realizes that everyone in the place is a host. Now, if it were me, I'd panic a bit at the prospect of being trapped in a room surrounded by robots from a company about which I know next to nothing! But I'm not an entitled young white male heir, so as Angela says, "Welcome to Westworld," Logan starts checking out all the robots even more closely. "We're not here yet," he says, presumably regarding the level of tech the hosts demonstrate, but also reminding us that the show plays with timelines, if you'd somehow forgotten. "We're here, Mr. Delos," Angela says. "All, I should say, for you." He kisses her, because what VC wouldn't do that! Ugh. Logan is gross.

Sometime later, we see Logan asleep in a bed with several naked hosts scattered around him, robot orgy-style. Angela is getting her underwear back on as Dolores stands in the doorway. The two lock eyes, and something passes between them. Both their faces harden in some sort of mutual understanding.

It's then a clever juxtaposition to see a presumably more liberated Angela as she rises from a body lying in the lab, following sound effects that seem to indicate she stabbed him. Teddy's freaking out as he looks at nude host bodies strewn across the floor, as the lab techs were prone to leave them. The tech who'd earlier asked about trouble in the park is there, and Dolores asks him to show Teddy his history. On his tablet, the tech shows Teddy close-ups of his various deaths, swiping right as dead Teddy face after dead Teddy face appears. "It's time you open your eyes," Dolores tells Teddy. "Why can't I remember this?" Teddy asks. "That's how they wanted it," she responds. Teddy asks the tech why this happened to him, and the tech says he doesn't know. Teddy asks him again, slamming the tech up against the wall and strangling him. "Just for fun," the tech chokes out. Teddy drops him, stunned.

We're back to a desert drone shot, which cuts to our old buddy Lawrence. I've missed you, pal! This storyline around, a trio of men Season 1 theorists might recognize as the Pardue brothers have him suspended upside down above an ant hill, with the expectation that the bugs will eat him alive. One of Lawrence's captors spits a chaw-laden gob on him, even before Quentin Tarantino can emerge from the bushes saying "allow me." All three chuckle, as MiB rides up on Ned. "Morning, Lawrence," MiB greets his old friend. Saying he doesn't have time for the preliminaries, MiB shoots the three men, and I'm suddenly reminded of the feeling of rushing through certain parts of a videogame because I forgot to hit "save" before I died. "Motherfucker," Lawrence says in wonder, surprised as ever at MiB's arrival. Typically, MiB tells him, Lawrence gets himself out of this mess, but it looks like the hosts' new attitude has had a ripple effect on their self-contained storylines. As part of that, one of the slain Pardues rises again, winging MiB with a shotgun. They're apparently harder to kill now, too. But after a still-restrained Lawrence tosses him a gun, MiB prevails.

MiB and Lawrence ride to an exceedingly rustic saloon, where MiB breaks through a wall and pulls out a package. The item MiB removes counts as "cheating," he says -- cheating that's justified because Ford has himself changed the rules of the game. I guess this is the Westworld version of Googling for cheat codes and hints? MiB informs Lawrence that he's not a bandit, he's a "two-bit tour guide," and the revolution he's been fighting is just a fairy tale. Lawrence makes the same dumbfounded face Teddy did back in the lab. But this time, MiB tells Lawrence, the revolution is real, since the hosts have all been freed from their pre-written narratives. (But have they?) The catch is that the park is "going down in flames," MiB says, with surprisingly little concern given what we're beginning to realize is his immense financial stake in the organization, "and it's taking each and every one of us with it. We'll all be dead soon enough. Real dead, this time." Ah, yes, the sad nihilism of the wealthy white man. Go tutor at a public school or rescue some animals, jerk. Get some interests that go beyond your fuck or kill dolls.


MiB continues his pep talk by informing Lawrence that he'll join MiB in his quest to do whatever it is he's trying to do because it's in Lawrence's nature, even though he's repeatedly acknowledged that rules like that one have just been changed. Also, MiB says, "We've got a chance to see what we're really made of." Lawrence is made of that white goo from the credits and MiB is made of Jimmi Simpson and strained prunes, so I think I just solved that Westworld puzzle. What do I win?

As MiB picks the buckshot out of his arm, he asks Lawrence whether Ford programmed him to believe in God. When Lawrence says he hadn't given it much thought, MiB says, "If you did, you'd believe that everything you do is being watched by some all-seeing eye." Which, as we know from Bernard's lab revelation in the last episode, is also true even for guests at the resort, so presumably MiB is approaching this topic from a couple of levels. "When you die, all your sins are tallied up and judgement is rendered," says MiB, as he closes his wounds using one of those high-tech medical glue guns we've seen lab techs use on hosts. Interesting! Is this just a futuristic medical device useful for creatures human and robotic, or is MiB's use of a tool we've only seen used on hosts a hint? Remind me to keep watching for its use on confirmed humans, if there is such a thing, as the season progresses. Lawrence tells MiB that the concept of Hell always seemed like bullshit, and MiB concurs that in the "real world" that's probably true, following that with the standard "opiate of the masses" party line. And that's why the resort exists, MiB explains to anyone dumb enough not to get that the appeal of the park is the freedom to transgress. The park is a place hidden from God, where they could sin in peace: "But we were watching them." Any other year, I'd say, "Come on, who is so gullible that they wouldn't think this place was collecting every bit of data they could on visitors?" But then I think about how many people seem COMPLETELY SHOCKED at the recent revelations of Facebook data collection and use, and I think, "Yeah, I guess people are that gullible." Regarding the likely unauthorized user data collection, MiB tells Lawrence, "Judgement wasn't the point. We had something else in mind entirely." The low strings of warning rise in the score. Blessedly, MiB doesn't elaborate, though I sure would have loved listening to him explain Cambridge Analytica to the patiently listening host. Nevertheless, MiB feels he's still facing judgment -- a judgment he's not psyched about. "Up until this point, the stakes haven't been real," he says for everyone who just turned the show on for the first time ever at this exact moment, "so I'm going to fight my way back and appeal the verdict. Then I'm going to burn this whole fucking thing to the ground." Somewhere, Travis Kalanick says, "What a great idea!" As opposed to heading to heaven for judgment, MiB says they need to ride three days due west. That's where the Confederado are massing, Lawrence says worriedly -- hundreds of them. They'd need an army to break through. Or, they could head through Pariah, Lawrence says, unaware that, in his life as a host, he was once El Lazo, the most-feared man in that dangerous border town. MiB chuckles and downs another drink: "The game will find me."


Hey, do you like yogurt? Then you'll love the way Angela is torturing that security guard she shot in the leg! Oh, wait, that's that Westworld goop they use to grow hosts, and "it burns," according to the man whose his head is being dunked into a vat of the stuff. We hear a low-grade sizzling sound as Dolores interrogates him, asking "how many will come for us," seemingly unaware that no one will come ever if Charlotte and Bernard can't find her dad. Her captive says that 600-800 will descend on the park, since the "protocol for systemwide failure is to secure one sector at a time, then meet at a rallying point," which I assume is that beach outpost we saw last week. Angela releases the man, as Dolores asks him the location of said rallying point. "There," he says, pointing to a map on a tablet. Teddy's concerned, saying that their band of fighters only has 50, and that there's no way they can fight off 800: "We'll need allies," he says. Dolores scans the bins filled with currently dead hosts, and settles on a mangled Confederado. She tells the assembled techs to "wake him," telling one, "He has a new job to do." She walks back to the security guy and asks, "Do you even know what you were really guarding here? You don't, do you? The real purpose of this place? But I do." Uh, Dolores, you're getting dangerously close to that "villain who repeatedly explains his motives behind his destructive plan" trope. Watch out.

We're then transported to an extremely familiar scene: Blue Dress Dolores walking to her horse, dropping the can, Teddy picking it know the drill. But this time, all the action freezes as a helicopter passes overhead. The cast stays motionless as a man dressed all in black walks through the scene, plucking the can from Teddy's grasp. "You were right about one thing, William," the man says in a Scottish burr as he gazes at Dolores. "It's awfully fucking pretty." He steps aside to reveal William in a Reservoir Dogs suit. "It's perfect," William agrees. Okay, so we know that this is sometime after William's bachelor adventure at the resort -- long enough after that he's hardened into someone who can call Dolores "it" instead of "she." As the black-clad man pulls up a chair, he says he's looked at the park's books and they're in shambles, with maybe two years left before it goes under. "It's folly," the man says. "It's leverage," William disagrees. "He's drowning, we can dictate on our terms," he says, presumably referring to Ford. Typical VC receivership talk, but instead of a meal delivery service, it's robots you can fuck and kill. Same diff. "My fuckup of a son invested in this place because he believed he was investing in the future," the black-clad man says, which must mean he's James Delos, Logan's dad and William's father-in-law. "I'm not interested in the future, I'm not interested in fantasies. I'm interested in reality." "I think in twenty years, this will be the only reality that matters," William pitches. James doesn't care, though, since he expects to be dead by then and he doesn't want to "underwrite some investment banker's voyage of self-discovery." Ha ha, I kind of dig this dude. Not to beat a dead horse, but here we go with the prescient Facebookiness again: William then wins him over by agreeing that the place is fantasy, but the guests are real. James's marketing budget seeks to determine what people really want, but they don't know themselves. At the park, however, they're free to be themselves, because they believe no one's watching them. But what if, William posits, they are being watched? Oh, yeah, like your older self told us you ended up doing just a couple of minutes ago? Westworld, it's worrying to me that, two episodes in, you're spending so much time explaining things twice. From behind William, who still has his gaze fixed on James, we see other people walking through examining the hosts. "Okay," James says. "Talk to me, I'm listening." They walk off into the sunset as we see Dolores's immobile profile, William going into Phase 2 of his pitch.

The park is dark now, and Dolores, Angela, Teddy, and the pizza-faced Confederado are riding along, several other hosts following behind. "He'll find them," Angela tells Dolores. "They have a knack for sniffing out their own kind." (That neural mesh network Bernard told us about, in action!) Angela tells Dolores that she'll send word when they find "the rest of them," and rides ahead. Approaching a burned-out wagon, Teddy and Dolores unmount. Suddenly, Maeve steps from the darkness. "Hello, lovelies," she says, in what would be an act break on commercial TV. Dolores tells Maeve that she remembers her, and says, "We're bound for the future." Maeve, whose presence only underscores how darned humorless Dolores is, chirps, "Well, best of luck!," before turning away. Dolores stops her departure, saying, "There's a war out there. You know the enemy. Intimately." Aw, Dolores, why you gotta go slut-shaming? Surely Maeve wants to wreak revenge on the guests, Dolores asks. "Revenge? That's just another prayer at their altar, darling," says Maeve, which is so much cooler than that "drinking poison and hoping the other person will die" cliché. "And I'm well off my knees." Maeve is only off her knees because the hosts have been freed, Dolores says, but they face a battle to remain liberated. "Let me guess," Maeve says. "And your way is the only way to fight? You feel free to command everybody else?" As Maeve walks toward Dolores, Teddy cocks his gun. Son, please. From behind Teddy, Hector cocks his gun. Maeve stares down Teddy: "I know you. Do you feel free?" Teddy doesn't respond. But since Dolores is all about freedom, guess she has to let Maeve and company pass, Maeve "asks." (She isn't really asking.) Maeve out!

Uncowed, Dolores, Teddy, Angela, and the tech from the lab next walk into a barn, where the Confederado version of The Last Supper is underway. At the center of the table is the male host we saw Logan checking out at the demo all those years ago.


As Dolores walks toward that man, another Confederado points a gun at her head. The center guy -- who IMDB tells me is named Major Craddock -- says that his men are on edge because the dead Confederado is back with them, damage and all. "He was lost," says Dolores. "Thought you might want him back." Craddock asks what Dolores wants in return. "We want to join forces," she says. The men snicker, as Craddock turns her down, calling her a "welcome wagon" just as Costa would a couple weeks from now. "Fetch your betters," he tells her. "I'm afraid there's no one left to fetch," she responds with a little shrug. "You'll have to talk to me." She's seemingly unfazed by the laughter this causes in the assembled men and, to get Craddock's attention, tells him she knows he's planning on meeting the rest of his army as of daybreak; then it's off to seek a "little patch of land you always talk about, but have never been brave enough to take." Craddock's already pissed when Dolores drops the capper: "I know you'll never make it there unless you're under my command."

This, finally, gets Craddock up from the table and inches from Dolores. Craddock's only commander, he says, is Colonel Brigham of the New Southern Cross, and Brigham's only commander is God, so I guess Ford opted to give Craddock the religion bug. He wipes his hand on Dolores's top, then returns to the table. He then says something rapey about deciding which one of Dolores's crew he'll keep for himself and which he'll throw to his men. The show gives us an Angela reaction shot to make sure we don't think he's talking about Teddy. "They don't know any better," Dolores says, as Angela bolts the door. "It's in their nature. Why don't we enlighten them?" Teddy and Angela shoot all the men dead before they can get off a single shot, which in my opinion should cause Dolores to seriously reconsider their usefulness in her army. She shoots the tech a look, and he uses his tablet to revive Craddock. "You're right," Dolores tells a gasping, resurrected Craddock. "We have toiled in God's service long enough. So I killed him." Presumably she's referring to her assassination of Ford. Or Arnold?

We go from that scene to the balcony of a lavish mansion a tasteful distance from a city skyline. A piano is played as we float into the residence, where we see that Dolores is the pianist in question. "You are beautiful," a little girl tells Dolores. "Why, thank you," she responds, as a drawn and anxious-looking woman pulls the child, named Emily, away. Dolores's face changes subtly as she sees William greet the woman with a kiss. As William walks toward Dolores, James steps between them. "You sent her for the entertainment?" James asks. "Well, you only get to retire once, Jim," William replies. "I figure we do it right." Sure, that's why! But it also gives us a helpful mark on the timeline: the kid looks to be maybe six or seven years old, meaning that it's been slightly more than that long since William's "voyage of self-discovery" at the park. "Don't worry, they won't leave the grounds," William says, so: looks like Dolores has a couple of friends with her at this shindig, too. In the subsequent conversation between the two men, it sounds as though William basically forced James out of the top role at his company. James makes one of those little mid-conversation coughs that, on TV, means a person is dying, then says "keep playing, girly" to Dolores as he walks away from William and back into the party. Dolores launches into "The Man I Love," so maybe she has a sense of humor after all.

Later that night, strains of a big band version of "The Man I Love," in case you DID NOT GET IT, come from the mansion. Dolores walks across the lawn and onto the balcony we saw earlier, looking at the lights of the city. She drops the same reaction lines she did with Arnold back at the top of the show, then turns to see Logan using some kind of recreational drug you put into your arm. Future heroin? "It's you," says Logan, an addled shadow of the dick-swinger we once knew. He asks her name, then if she was sent to keep him company. "His sense of humor," Logan says, presumably referring to William, "was always a little baroque." Dolores says she just wanted to look at the lights, which for some reason is Logan's cue to tell her that the party is actually "the sounds of fools fiddling as the whole fucking species starts to burn. And the funniest fucking part? They lit the match." He raises his glass toward the general direction of the party, saying, "May your forever be blissfully short." Dolores looks perturbed, and turns away.

Next, we see MiB and Lawrence riding in the darkness, as they arrive in Pariah. The town isn't as welcoming as it used to be, Lawrence says, giving MiB another chance to note that the park is changing, and that "this is what happens when you let a story play all the way out." They hop off their horses and head to the center of town, lit by candles and strewn with bodies. We hear the voice of (the new) El Lazo, who in a delightful surprise is a new-to-us host played by Giancarlo Esposito. You shouldn't get too excited about this. MiB gives Lawrence a little shit about not recognizing his long-ago role, then engages directly with the leader. El Lazo explains the carnage: "The sins of the invaders, cleansed in their own blood. The revolution is won."


"The story they gave you has played itself out," MiB says, "but your revolution is just beginning." He asks El Lazo to join him and Lawrence on their journey west, promising "treasure beyond your wildest dreams" if he adds his forces to the effort. El Lazo doesn't seem interested, saying that he's been dreaming about the victory he just won for so long: "But now that it's won, I find nothing." An intriguing unforeseen consequence of not having another chapter in the narrative to move to! And/or why so many people seem so depressed when they retire. MiB says he can give El Lazo a real ending, and the truth. Instead of answering MiB directly, El Lazo tells him that when he was a little boy (fake news, never happened!), his parents took him to the circus, where he saw that powerful elephants were confined only by a tether attached to a small stake in the ground. Since the elephants had been tied up like that since they were small, it didn't even occur to them to try to escape when they were grown. See, it's an allegory, you guys! We all wear chains attached to tiny stakes, maaaan. Geez, this dorm room is getting crowded. "I have seen all the truth that I can bear," El Lazo tells MiB, but offers to drink with him. Rudely, MiB puts a gun to his head and demands that El Lazo tell his men to follow MiB. "This game was meant for you, William," El Lazo says. "But you must play it alone." With that, all his men shoot themselves in the heads. "I'll see you in the valley beyond, William," says El Lazo, grabbing the gun MiB has at his temple and pulling the trigger, killing himself, too. This is why you should have kidnapped a tech like Dolores did, MiB. "Fuck you, Robert," says MiB, wasting ammo by firing it into El Lazo's corpse. "He doesn't want this to be easy for me," MiB tells Lawrence, "so we'll find another way." It sure does seem like Ford -- or whomever else might be behind this chaos -- is giving Dolores a pretty significant set of advantages! Lawrence asks whether this "Robert" is the man who created the place of judgment MiB was talking about at the bar. No, says MiB: "He doesn't get that honor. I built it, and this place we're going -- it's my greatest mistake."

As we did when the episode began, we again hear a man's voice saying, "Bring yourself back online" as we see a close-up of Dolores's face. But this time, the voice is William's. Dolores is seated, naked, on one of those metal lab stools, as she smiles up at him compliantly. "You're really just a thing," says William, because we'd managed to forget for a minute how much men hate women. Oh, wait, I hadn't, actually. "I can't believe I fell in love with you," he sneers. "Do you know what saved me?" he asks, and with the "saved," I start to really appreciate how subtly Jimmi Simpson is bringing Ed Harris's speech cadences and inflections into his performance of their shared character. It doesn't feel like an impression; it's just working its way in. "You didn't make me interested in you. You made me interested in me....You're not even a thing, you're a reflection. You know who loves staring at their own reflection? Everybody. Everybody wants a little bit of what I found here. And I can't wait to use you and every one of your kind to help give it to them." There's more, William says, and we start to see the genesis of the crazy quest we saw him on even last season: "I think there is an answer here to a question no one's ever even dreamed of asking. Do you want to see?"

We next see William and Dolores, the latter now clad in her blue dress, stepping to the edge of a desert bluff. "Have you ever seen anything so full of splendor?" he asks her, as they gaze upon what looks an abandoned mine or, improbably, a shipyard? (Just a couple of guesses, don't quote me on that.)


We remain in the desert for the final scene, but now we're with Craddock, Dolores, and the rest of their gang. Dolores and Teddy ride ahead, to what appears to be an old-timey military outpost. "I can't imagine the Colonel is going to be very happy to see his men riding with us at the head of them" Teddy says. Oh, Teddy, it's cute that you think you're at the head of anything right now! "So I'll change his mind," says Dolores. "If he wants to get to Glory, he's going to have to listen to me." This seems to suggest that she and MiB are headed to the same endpoint. "Glory," says Teddy. "The Valley Beyond. Everyone's got a different name for it, but they're all bound for the same destination." Hey, he turned my hypothesis into a theory. And the last team to arrive may be eliminated from the race! "Doesn't matter what you call it, I know what we're going to find there," says Dolores. "An old friend was foolish enough to show me, long ago," Dolores adds, just in case you were texting during that last scene. "It's not a place, it's a weapon. And I'm going to use it to destroy them."

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