Ding dong, the Doosh is dead! Welcome back to Lakewood. Emma and Brooke haven’t heard the good news yet; they’re still fleeing in terror from the creepy pig farm where someone’s been collecting a whole scrapbook of Emma in technicolor Stalkervision. Back at Finalgirltopia, home of the world-famous All-My-Friends-Were-Murdered Special, Maggie tells Emma she already knows about the farm. They used to go and visit Brandon’s family there after they were run out of town for raising a serial killer. Maggie suggests they go back and get to the bottom of this. Oh my God, this family needs to make better life choices, stat. The only thing that’s getting to the bottom of anything if you go to a STALKER-INFESTED PIG FARM in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT is an ax getting to the bottom of your torso, after chopping you in half.
Sure you don’t want something brighter than a flashlight, like, say, a huge fire to burn this place to the ground?
But when they get there, the Emma altar is gone without a trace.
The next morning, Maggie finds Emma’s room empty; she snuck out to see Kieran, but at least she made her bed first, which is more than most teenagers would bother to do. Emma’s afraid she might be hallucinating, and Kieran empathizes as hard as he can without disheveling his hair. She’s like “Should I get more treatment?” and he’s like “Why would you seek medical attention for your extremely understandable ongoing mental trauma when, instead, you could stay here and make out with my face?” Dude, hair gel is not a suitable replacement for Prozac. As Emma drives off, someone whose face we can’t see is following her.
At school, Noah is entirely too chipper for this early in the morning, so either he’s still riding the high from playing jump rope with Jake’s intestines (come on, you’ve at least entertained the possibility it’s Noah, right?) or he’s just super psyched to have found a new lead on Audrey’s cyber-harasser. One of his commenters claims to have seen Piper’s accomplice with his own eyes.
I’m actually not worried you’re going to find out my terrible secret, I just fucking hate morning people.