“Pretty Little Liars” recap 4.11: Dancing Away with My Heart


Aria and Emily start the crawlspace investigation without Spencer, but it’s fruitless because: 1) Spencer obviously has the best flashlight. Some kind of ultra LED tactical number with alternate infrared optics that can be mounted to a sniper rifle, no doubt. And 2) Spencer is the one who does evidence. By which I mean Spencer is the one who unearths the most random trinkets and free associates until she has pinned whatever mystery they’re doing at the time to whatever suspect she’s dogging at the moment. They do find a button — “Oooh, does it look like it popped off a red coat?” — but forget about it when they hear some sinister clanging and banging. It’s only Spencer, announcing her presence like the Hulk. Emily and Aria fight over who gets to tell about the button, but they’re interrupted by the sound of someone else stomping around in the kitchen. Once they confirm that Hanna is with Ms. D, Aria sticks her big ol’ beautiful eyeballs right up to those kitchen floor holes and almost gets a knitting needle shoved into her retina! It’s terrifying! It’s amazing! She is aghast!


Back at Spencer’s, the Liars fill Hanna in on the eyeball poking thing and she’s like, “So, was it like one needle in one hole stabbing at one eyeball, or were there like needles coming at you everywhich way from all holes at once, because if we’re being honest a team of Red Coats seems like a real possibility at this point. We’ve been here before. Maybe Emily can spring some kind of surprise attack, like a dozen bear traps underneath the kitchen table…” But no! Emily will not be doing any more investigating inside that house! In fact, she is moving into Spencer’s house this very night! Even if she has to live inside Melissa’s blazer closet, she will do it! ENOUGH EFFING CRAWLSPACES.

Spencer says if she’s going to move in, maybe she could do it another night. Or another week. Or maybe just sometime in the future when Toby’s not going through so much stuff. Hanna, who mostly doesn’t seem to remember that she has a boyfriend anymore, tells Spencer they all get what it’s like to have a boyfriend, even Emily, but this sketch-ed up way she’s acting seems to be rooted in something far more nefarious than mismanaged priorities. Spencer says Toby will come clean when he feels ready, and so bizarre: It is Aria, perpetual haver of boyfriends who take her out of the A-game, that cracks Spencer’s nuts about it. Just: “A car smashed into Emily’s living room and a rock smashed into Emily’s shoulder and she doesn’t even have a future anymore! Hanna’s been run over half a dozen times and her mother is going to be executed for the first-degree murder of a police officer! And I ALMOST GOT POKED IN THE EYE!”


Spencer finally comes clean that Toby is, for all intents and purposes, back on the A-Team, doing A’s bidding, because A is giving him little snippets of information that prove his mom was murdered and not suicided. Satisfied that this quest is important in any way at all, Aria excuses herself to go try on boots at The Brew while Toby stares at a texted photo of an abandoned car, which it turns out later is Dr. Palmer’s old car, and of course all of the psychiatric records of his former patients are probably in the trunk, including recordings of Marion Cavanaugh performing cabaret and spoken word poetry and saying with her own voice, “Toby, my son, I did not die of suicide, but was instead hurled from my window by Alison DiLaurentis wearing a costume of Alison DiLaurentis.”

Is this Spencer’s fault somehow? Did following her to a parallel dimension on the advice of a parrot break his brain?


At The Brew, Ezra — looking homeless-er by the minute — spots Aria and inquires after the health of her cellular telephone, noting that it must be in the bottom of a swamp or some such thing since she has not used it to return his multiple texts and phone calls. Jake busts up their conversation, and Ezra excuses himself, and Aria swoons over the turquoise hoedown boots Jake slips onto her feet like Cowboy Cinderella. You know I love to give Aria a hard time, but she’s going through an actual thing here that never doesn’t suck. That thing where you’re trying with all your brainpower and heartpower to fall in love with someone wonderful who is legitimately trying to sweep you off your feet while being deeply, inevitably in love with someone who is all wrong for you except the way your spirits snap together like Legos. The person we really should feel sorry for is Jake and all the Jakes of the world who deserve what we’ll never be able to give them.

(Cripes almighty! Did I just say “we” about me and Aria Montgomery? Will wonders never cease?!)

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