Betrayal. A deep, abiding, sickening sense of heart-wrenching betrayal. That’s what I feel right now. You spend 17 episodes with someone, you think you know her. She tells you who she loves, you believe her. And then out of some kind of apocalyptic dust storm rises a potentially murderous maniac, and suddenly she doesn’t love who she said she loved? Despicable.
I am of course talking about me and Spencer Hastings and freakin’ creepin’ Boo Radley Van Cullen over here who knows French all of a sudden and doesn’t drop snow globes — SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST CLUMSY, OK?! THEY CAN’T HELP IT — and so now Spencer is ready to hop on his Harley and ride off to who knows where. Forks, Washington. When — and correct me if I’m wrong — Spencer has made it crystal clear over the course of this season that the person she really loves is me.
Sleuths are fickle, man. This is the last time I fall for one. I’m barely over Veronica Mars leaving me for Piz. I mean, seriously. Say his name. Say it out loud. Piz. Piz. Piz, Piz, Piz. It makes you want to throw a firecracker at someone’s face.
Let’s just talk about something else.
So, Hannah and Aria are still broken up. Aria’s just so darn mad that she can’t even contribute to the afternoon’s Scooby party. No, she doesn’t want any Scooby Snacks. No, she doesn’t want to help decipher Boo’s secret message. No, she doesn’t want to talk about it. And no, she’s not explaining why she beat up Minnie Mouse and stole her polka-dot dress. OK? Leave her alone! Hannah makes sad eyes at her as she storms out, but Aria’s like, “You’re gonna try to out-doe me? Bitch, please.”
At school the next day, Aria runs up to Hannah and crawls all over her like a puppy and licks her cheek and licks her nose and licks her ear and says, “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryIloveyou.” And Hannah says the same. And they are girlfriends again. And just in time, too, ’cause hijinkis are a-happenin’.
Gilbert Blythe has, unsurprisingly, wooed the staff of Rosewood High, and all the teachers in the cafeteria are beating each other back with golf clubs trying to get a chance to go to a book signing with him. He’s like, “Ladies, ladies … Tickets for everyone!” And they swoon and sigh, and then they turn mean again when they realize it’s gonna be a fisticuffs to see who rides shotgun in his car.
In the middle of the mush, Mr. Moze (Paige’s dad) thunderclouds onto the scene demanding to see Coachprah. Gil intercepts him and calmly explains that Coachprah rules the world by day, and is only available for visits during swim practice. “It takes a lot of time to run a kingdom,” Gil says cheerfully. And Mr. Moze just starts wailing. “I know what’s going on at this school,” he says. “Oh, you bet your sweet Cylon, I know. It’s the Gay Agenda in here like in every other school in America. Gay teens get preferential treatment. They are revered, exalted, worshiped and adored. Do they go to class and do work like regular students? No, they do not. They have school-funded orgies in the principal’s office instead. And do they compete for spots on sports teams like normal heterosexual kids? No, they do not. Gay athletes get everything handed to them, too. LIKE THE GIANT GAY EMILY FIELDS WHO TOOK MY DAUGHTER’S SPOT ON THE SWIM TEAM!”
Gil’s like, “Look, my girlfriend is best friends with Emily, and I’m telling you: She’s just a really good swimmer with the sickest quads you’ve ever seen.” Just kidding, Gil clocks him. Just kidding again, Gil gets verbally firm and tells him to go.
Moze is embarrassed and Emily is sad.
But that’s only enemy number one. After Piper says, “Gil, Gil, Gil” about three hundred times, Byron decides to challenge Mr. Blythe to a good old fashioned duel to the death. Gil and Aria can’t even enjoy a good statutory makeout session because Byron keeps calling to make death threats. Aria finally gets through to him, like, “Dad, you’re barking up the wrong Montgomery.” And so Byron and Gil become BFFs forevs. They trade charm bracelets. It’s sweet.