At Rosewood Pharmacy, Hanna and Emily overhead THE LOUDEST PHARMACIST IN THE WORLD telling Meredith that the prescription she is trying to refill is a CLASS A NON-TRADABLE NARCOTIC that cannot be refilled because WICKED WITCHES USE IT TO POISON LITTLE GIRLS. So Meredith just loads up on 200 boxes of antihistamines and gets the hell out of there. After a quick Wackopedia consult, Emily realizes that she is rather familiar with the CLASS A NON-TRADABLE NARCOTIC in question. “We’ve got to get Aria’s quick,” she says, “before she starts time-traveling and ends up in a graveyard holding a shovel.”
Toby’s face stops by Spencer’s to give her some anniversary flowers. She’s like, “Oh, Toby. They’re beautiful. Almost as beautiful as your saintly, forthright, eternally honest heart.” On the kitchen counter is the A-key, about which Spencer weaves an effortless lie. She drops it in a drawer and kisses Toby on the mouth.
Aria wakes up again, this time with Meredith hovering over her, clutching Aria’s mirror-shiv in her hand — doily-free; rookie mistake — and growling about how she’s searched all over the house, even in Mike’s room, which wasn’t a picnic, let her tell you, with all those blind girl craft fair knickknacks littering every surface, and Ali’s diary pages are nowhere to be found. Aria is like, “My brain is still a little fuzzy, but, like, you’ve been drugging me, yeah?” Meredith barks at her not to be so dramatic. OK, Meredith, who is squeezing a shiv so hard she’s bleeding all over Aria’s bed, would like Aria to stop being so dramatic. And so Aria does the only thing she can do: She makes a run for it, around and around and around the house in circles, trying to dial 911 for about ten minutes on the landline instead of running out into the yard and out into the street and on down the road, just punching those buttons on that dead phone over and over and over until Meredith clocks her over the head and knocks her ass right out.
Over at Ezra’s: