Deadwood's improper sendoff left most of the characters in a state of impotent distress. Mining magnate, sociopath, and Foghorn Leghorn impersonator George Hearst had captured the largest gold claim in town. Al Swearengen, town mascot and warrior for fair-priced liquor and whores, is left scrubbing a blood stain off of his office floor. The bad guy wins, and the good guys have only withstood his wake. The victory they claim is that their throats remain uncut.

While Deadwood takes a few liberties with real-life events, I sincerely doubt that Milch would have opted to conclude his magnum opus with all the protagonists eternally locked in a freeze frame high-five. It was a show about a lawless town's ascent into law and order. Yet, regardless of how many constables and businessmen you shake hands with, there was always a chance that someone was going to f**k you over. And being fucked over in Deadwood usually meant that you'd wind up as pig food.

HBO
Literally.

A group of unhappy townsfolk outlasting the assault of an cold-blooded Old West business tycoon exemplifies that theme. Time will go on and their ups and downs will continue, but the closure of season three of Deadwood is as clean an ending as it would have gotten. The town had been irrevocably changed, but the people inside of it -- those wonderful cocksuckers -- were still f****n' breathing.

Would Peter Parker ever truly find balance? That, and why can't we see the mushroom shape of his dick through his spandex, are the central questions Spider-Man has been trying to answer for half a century.

In the final episode, Peter has beaten the Green Goblin, but lost his love to the Goblin's son. That encapsulates everything that made The Spectacular Spider-Man more than just a kid's show about web-swinging and puns. Spectacular honored the 50-plus year history of Spider-Man while laying the emotional depth on thick enough to satisfy fans of all ages. That took skill, and not only on Weisman's part. The cliffhanger mirrors the skills of the crew behind it, and the themes that saturated the show's short run. Weisman repeatedly said that The Spectacular Spider-Man was all about the "education of Peter Parker," and outside of a grand finale, there is no better way to end the show than with Peter learning a lesson about the sacrifices you make when you want to be a hero.

Disney
A nerdy high school teen has spider powers and has to choose between a beautiful redhead and a beautiful blonde. Why do we think he's so relatable again?

It's mostly sacrificing making out, but when you're 16, that's a big goddamn deal.

By now, everyone knows that Twin Peaks is being revived for a nine-episode miniseries in 2016. If you don't? Hi. This is Earth. Welcome.

A sizable portion of the original run of Twin Peaks was based around the murder of Laura Palmer. Lynch wanted to hold onto that card for as long as possible. When ratings declined, ABC pressed for the identity of Palmer's killer to be revealed. The killer's identity was revealed in the second season, after the network pressured Lynch to at least pretend the show was going somewhere. It was a letdown, and the show ended soon after. Not an ideal way to go.

CBS
The face of millions of fans as they watched the subpar final episodes, trying to convince themselves it was still good.

All of that, plus the prequel movie Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me, and the upcoming Showtime series, will hopefully make for a more fitting ending, considering David Lynch's original idea for the series had it continued the first time around. Lynch had never wanted the mystery of Laura Palmer to be solved. Eventually, he believed, audiences would be so enamored with the pies and quirkiness and magic that the show's central question would slip away into irrelevance. That kind of thinking is just as untrue today as it was then, and as it will always be.

ABC
Right, Lost?

Makes you appreciate the ending we got the first time. What better way to cap off a show that was ripped from your grasp than by directing an above-average finale that left more questions than it answered? A long, meandering, cocktease of wacky David Lynch-ism, or a big final explosion of Lynchian what-the-fuckness? You take the latter and brace yourself -- s**t's about to get weird.