Sometimes the end can be the most delicious:
the salty rubble of potato chips;
hearty gold heel of good French bread;
syrup-soaked bottom pancake;
caramel apple dip finished off with a spoon.
Sometimes the end just sharpens disappointment:
flavorless ice dregs of Frappuccinos;
lukewarm slime that was a bubble bath;
waking too early to an urgent bladder;
damp coffee grounds invading the last sip.
Which end is this? Poetic ambiguity.