War. Plague. Death. The "How I Met Your Mother" series finale: all things I’ve heard are terrible. All things I’ve managed to avoid. Until now.

WHAT I KNOW:

AKA What I’ve learned after three years of passively scrolling the Internet.

"How I Met Your Mother" is a sitcom staple following the adventures of a ragtag group of friends. It stars Neil Patrick Harris, it ran for nine seasons (216 episodes in total), it's still immensely popular, and I haven't seen a single episode.

When the show’s series finale premiered last year, the Internet lost its collective mind.

OK, imagine a couple. Now imagine that couple has parented 215 children, with a 216th on the way. The couple is, by virtue of raising those 215 children, exhausted and struggling to maintain friendships with the other couples in the neighborhood. Still, the day has come. They’ve hauled themselves to the hospital, they’ve been shuttled into a room and assisted by a qualified medical professional, and now the wife is has given birth to her last child: #216.

The wife holds her baby in her arms. Both mother and child are out of breath, both are red faced and teary. Both are happy to be alive. Suddenly, a sweaty palm lands against the window of the hospital room. More palms follow: outside, a commotion is brewing. A crowd of onlookers is gathering, and it is an angry crowd.

“What is this?” Shouts one of the onlookers, pointing at the baby through the window glass. The rest of the mob makes loud, grunting sounds of agreement.

“This isn’t what we want!” The first onlooker continues. “You promised us a better baby than this! We don’t like this baby!”

“What?” The wife shouts back, clutching her child closer to her chest.

“This baby doesn’t provide a proper conclusion to the narrative that we’ve been religiously following for nine years!” Another onlooker shouts, this time from the back of the crowd.

“It’s not my problem you’ve read too much into this baby! Your expectations were too high!” The wife says, no, still shouts. “This is a fine baby!"

“Well, we don’t think so! We think your baby is unfunny and derogatory toward female characters!”

“F*ck you! This is my creative property!” Shouts the wife.

“We hate you now!” The onlookers shout, in unison.

“GREAT,” shouts the wife.

“Who are you people? Where am I?” Shouts the husband.

If you replace the couple with the creative team behind "How I Met Your Mother," the 216th child with the HIMYM finale, and the disgruntled crowd of onlookers with the entire internet, you’ve got a pretty good picture of the fallout that bit at the heels of a once beloved sitcom.

THE MISSION:

AKA Why?

I will be watching the "How I Met Your Mother" finale to determine whether or not the Internet backlash was justified. As a non-fan of the show and having seen none of the previous episodes, I will judge the episode on its quality of humor, pacing, and treatment of characters.

THE ARSENAL:

AKA The materials I’ll need to make all of this go smoothly.

• One (1) Netflix account — specifically, my friend’s Netflix account. This friend has been gracious enough to lend me her password for the length of this viewing. And for the past year and a half.

• Approximately three hundred (300) kernels of microwave popcorn, to be consumed over the course of the viewing-slash-review-writing-process. To clarify: the popcorn is popped. I’m not eating raw kernels. If I was, though, I’d keep it a secret. Take that as you will.

• Twenty two (22) minutes. Typical sitcom length. Though the "How I Met Your Mother" finale was technically broadcast in two parts, "Last Forever: Part One" and "Last Forever: Part Two," I’ll only be watching "Last Forever: Part Two," the final episode of the series. I’m doing this in order to keep my review as objective as possible. The finale will be judged on what I believe to be its quality as an episode, not on its significance as part of the HIMYMcanon.

• Five (5) senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. While only sight and hearing are necessary for the viewing, taste, smell, and touch are . . . just sort of unavoidable. I don’t have the resources to rent out some kind of Matrix-esque space chamber that would allow me to focus solely on the episode. I don’t even have the resources to afford my own Netflix account. [See bullet point #1]

• One (1) strong will.

I’ve dimmed the lights. I’ve (probably) popped the popcorn. I’ve closed all of my tabs except for Netflix.

And I’ll see you on the other side.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but what I got was a hurried mash-up of catch phrases and situations intended to trigger some emotional reaction in a more dedicated viewer. Not a particularly good episode, but not a terrible one. Not the heinous assault to human rights I’d been led to expect, but certainly not free of some super intense misogyny. (Barney’s character squicked me out in particular. More on that below).

AT A GLACE:

AKA A quick summary of the plot.

Our protagonist, Ted, proposes to and marries his first wife after nearly seven years of dating and two children together. However, the episode flashes forward and it is revealed that this nameless first wife has since died of a nameless sickness. So, yes, the premise of the sitcom remains: Ted is speaking to his children about how he met their mother, but the titular "mother" is not his first wife, but a stepmother — a woman named Robin, with whom Ted has had some sort of on-again-off-again relationship. The episode ends with Robin leaning out her bedroom window while Ted stares reverently up at her, a blue french horn clutched in his right hand. I'm not sure the significance of the blue french horn, but it's implied that Ted and Robin finally get their happily ever after.

Meanwhile, Ted's philandering friend Barney must deal with the consequences of a "perfect month" (31 one night stands in 31 days): he's a father now.

CHARACTERS:

AKA What I gathered about these people based on their interactions and appearances in this episode. I may have some of the names wrong. Bear with me on this.

Marshall Fudge — Either this guy has been through a lot or Jason Segal just happens to have the haunted eyes of someone who’s seen too much. Whatever the reason, Marshall looks like a sad, sad man, and I’m glad this episode finally saw him achieve his dream of becoming a judge — a dream it seems he’s been working toward for a while. Other than the scene where he relays news of this promotion to the rest of the gang, Marshall doesn’t get too much screen time (unless another character wants to make some sort of pun/rhyming joke about his last name, then he gets to show up and look quietly disgruntled).

Barney - What a jerk. Barney is a womanizer at heart. He’s meant to be childish, and insulting, and perpetually horny, and the writers have consciously assigned him these attributes. It’s not that I take automatic issue with characters like Barney, because I don’t. Every single one of the protagonists in "It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia" is one of these characters, and it makes for a great, if hilariously cringe-y, show. Why? Because the characters in "It’s Always Sunny"are never redeemed. Instead they remain conspicuously horrible people, doing conspicuously horrible things, and the show is funny to us because these horrible things always result in absurd consequences. I’m not sure if other episodes of HIMYMhave tried to get us to like Barney, but this finale certainly did. Near the midpoint of this episode, we see him cradling his (surprise!) child and repeating the same mantra he once tried on a girl at the bar.

“You are the love of my life. Everything I have and everything I am is yours forever,” he says, holding his baby out in front of him, tears in his eyes.

This scene is plagued by two major issues. First and most troubling, Barney has already used this speech on Sexy Girl #1 (sorry, that's how the character is billed in the credits). This is meant to be an emotional throwback, symbolizing Barney’s growth from womanizing cad to Actual Mature Person™, but it lands just south of creepy. Second, this scene is meant to be Barney’s redemption in the eyes of the viewer, with the baby/tears combo serving as a persuasive emotional cocktail. Unfortunately, the scene takes that cocktail in one hand, the back of the viewer’s head in the other, and forces that viewer to drink.The artificial speed with which the tears form in Barney’s eyes gives away just how fake the whole thing is: this scene is desperate to make us like Barney. I'm not buying it.

Ted - A foil to Barney’s Blatant Jerk, Ted is a Jerk In Disguise. This is arguably a worse kind of jerk. I mean, at least Barney is upfront about his misogyny. Meanwhile, Ted waits until his first wife is dead to reveal that his entire relationship with said first wife was actually just a meaningless sham — a white sheet thrown over his real love affair with...

Robin - I’m confused about Robin’s characterization. Sure, I’ve only watched one episode of this show, so I’m confused about a lot of things, but are we supposed to like Robin? Are we supposed to hate Robin? Everyone else seems to hate Robin, or — at the very least — see her as unapproachable and aloof. In case we forget how cold she is, costuming has put her in an blue power dress with geometric side slits. Ice Queen.

The Mother(?) - Rhymes with Panic Dixie Gream Mirl.

Lily - I’m glad Lily and Marshall are dating (married? close platonic friends?), because I want the best for both of them. Lili has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s the only character who calls Barney out on his sexism. (R.E. Barney’s 31st one night stand in 31 days: “Number 31? You know, you’re going to have to learn her name at some point?”)

The Kids - Huge assholes.

WHAT WORKED:

• Marshall’s lines felt genuine (“...I’m going to be a judge.”) Basically, I want to be friends with Jason Segal.
• When Robin enters her apartment in one of the flash-forward scenes, she's walking four dogs. Four dogs.
• You can tell that the cast is pouring their heart and soul into these scenes. Even if the script doesn't always work, the actors themselves manage to evoke a little bit of nostalgia. This is especially true during one of the final scenes, when the gang is making a toast to their time together. Marshall turns to a pair of teenagers sitting in the next booth over and, indicating the gang's booth, says, "Do you have any idea what happened here?" It's moving.
• Side note: the teenagers with whom Marshall shares this moment are wearing matching blue plaid shirts. It's weird, but I dig it.
• The “And that kids . . . is how I met your mother,” was really satisfying, and I’ve only seen one episode of this show.

WHAT DIDN’T WORK:

• In an early scene, Lily/Marshall and Ted/The Mother go on a double date to some sort of... robot fight club? All I know is that robots were mentioned in passing and I couldn't get over it. I'm not morally opposed to robot fight clubs, but... what does a robot fight club contribute to this episode? Why is it here, specifically? I need answers.
• Who gave Barney custody of a child? This man is obviously irresponsible.
• The Mother — who's name either wasn't mentioned or wasn't spoken prominently enough for me to catch — was victim of some of the worst fridging I've ever seen. (Fridging is a sexist narrative device wherein a woman — usually a love interest — is killed off to increase a male character's angst. He ends up looking heroic and resilient in the face of great pain. She ends up looking dead).
• Many of episode's quote-unquote emotional beats come off as tacky. A "throwback" line is less impacting if it feels forced, and fan service only works if the audience can't tell that it's fan service.
• A robot fight club?
• There were some exceptionally bad wigs in this episode.
• Seriously, a robot fight club?

IN CONCLUSION:

AKA What I learned.

What we have here is a classic case of over-hype. Creators make promises they can't keep, fans expect plot twists that aren't possible, the Internet takes personal offense, and it all ends in tears.

In short: your response to the finale of your favorite TV show doesn't have anything to do with quality. It has everything to do with what that show means to you.

And that, kids, is how I met "How I Met Your Mother."