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“Pretty Little Liars” recap (1.12): Meet the Fockers

You guys know me well enough to know there are two ways I assign worth to stories. Thing One: Is its entertainment value inversely proportional to its infuriation value? Thing Two: Does it add form to the chaos of life, helping us make sense of our own stories? In both these Things Pretty Little Liars excels. Thing One is self-explanatory; you only need to spend 30 seconds with a preview to know it’s true. But consider Thing Two.

My buddy saysay emailed one morning this week to tell me she was spending the day with her nose pressed to her office window, waiting to see some cars crash in the snowy intersection below. In the late afternoon she giddily emailed a photo: “It finally happened! The car only hit a sign but still… exciting stuff!” The ambulance came, and then the fire truck, and suddenly saysay was wondering if maybe this “accident” wasn’t so accidental.

Luckily, we’d both watched Pretty Little Liars the night before; thus we were able to make sense of the tragedy.

Is that not precisely what Francis Bacon had in mind when he said, “As regards plot I find real life no help at all. Real life seems to have no plots. And as I think plot desirable and almost necessary, I have this extra grudge against life.”

If only Sir Francis had known “A.”

Hanna is home from the hospital, wrasslin’ a sticker she’s been using to cover up A’s salutation on her cast. Spencer’s voice – hiiiiiii, Spencer’s voice – says they can get her another sticker, and she’s not apologizing for choosing one that says “Humpty Dumpty was pushed.” Not only does it add another literary reference to the ever-growing pile, the only other choice at the sticker shop was, “Jesus is coming; look busy.”

(Spencer does this thing when she’s making a joke: She smooshes up her lips and kind of talks out of the side of her mouth, and it drives me almost as mad as her voice. I keep checking IMDB like every five seconds to make sure Troian Bellisario is really 26, so I don’t turn into some kind of Gilbert Blythe over here.)

The PLLs discuss how Noel Kahn is “A” and how the only thing keeping them from getting mass murdered is the way the scent of coconuts and pineapples always precedes his presence. Aria offers to spend the night with Hanna, keep her safe; her sense of smell is keen after a lifetime of sniffing out Scooby Snacks. Hanna gets hungry thinking about Scooby snacks so she wheels on over to the pantry, hoping to knock a Pop-Tart into her lap with her crutches. Instead she yanks down a box of lasagna stuffed with a hundred badrillion dollars.

The PLLs want to cook dinner for Hanna or help her to her bed or not leave her alone because of maniacs on the loose, but Hanna clutches the box of moola-sagna to her chest and tells them to scram. She’s hungry, she’s loopy, she’s sleepy, just go. They acquiesce to her request because safety in numbers is clearly a myth. Spencer stays behind to tell Hanna not to chomp down on those uncooked noodles. (It’s been a long time since Hanna’s had carbs; she needs the reminder, probably.) And then Spencer kisses me on the head. Wait, no. She kisses me on the mouth. Kisses Hanna on the mouth. No, the head. What? I don’t – oh, look: it’s a text from “A”:

“Like mommy, like daughter. Can you run from the law on those legs?”

Run from the law. I don’t understand people who don’t watch this show.

When Hanna’s mom comes home with bags full of goodies from Bed, Bath & Beyond, Hanna asks her about the bank robbin’ and noodle disguisin’, and Ms. Marin insists that it was just a loan and that she’s not going to end up murdering any old ladies because she can’t pay it back.

The Fields are sitting down to another awkward family meal. Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like finding your daughter’s old algebra notebook littered with equations like: [(2 BOOBS + X) + (NAKED) = (4 NAKED BOOBS) = (BEST)]. The dinner is silent except for the clanking of spoons and forks and dishes, and just when you think the dialogue can’t get any better on this show, it does.

Emily’s dad: I like these sausages; what are they, chicken?

Emily’s mom: No, they’re turkey. [To Emily] So, does your friend have any allergies?

Emily: What?

Emily’s mom: Is there anything I should know about what Maya eats?

Emily: No, she eats everything.

But does she eat rat poison? Ms. Fields shall see – oh, she shall see!

Spencer is dressed like The Great Gatsby, leaning into her boyfriend’s ’69 Mustang, kissing us some more. If you want to make the case that Spencer is a Jordan Baker, I’ll listen. Jordan cheated to win her first golf tournament, yeah? Her boyfriend broke up with her because she ran with a “rotten crowd.” Her best friend “smash[ed] things up,” then “retreat[ed] into … vast carelessness.” I mean, it’s a Boo/Toby-caliber comparison, but Spencer looks better in the costume. (Who’s going to be Scout Finch? Who’s going to dress as a ham? I vote Mona.)

Mrs. Hastings waves a little toodle-do at Alex over there groping her daughter, and Spencer gets all husky about how we’ll they’ll meet up later. She skips over to her mom and trips over two plot points: 1) Boo Radley Van Cullen is out on bail. Vampires, too, have a right to counsel. Apparently. 2) Ian and Melissa are on their honeymoon, and Ian has already moved his s–t into the Hastings’ home. Spencer’s goes, “It’s like zoinks, mom! How irresponsible! But at least I can bring Aria over later to sniff out some clues!”

At school, Aria and Emily decide to split up Hanna’s assignments and hide them inside H&M catalogs, like a choose your own homework/fashion adventure. Maya wanders up looking fetch. She reaches for Emily’s hand and asks what kind of antidotes she should bring to dinner at the Fields’. Skelo-grow? Mandrake Restorative Draught? Dr. Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction? Should she bring a Bezoar, just to be on the safe side?

Emily scoffs because it’s not like her mom would really poison her girlfriend. Then she sighs because her mom would really poison her girlfriend. She tells Maya it doesn’t matter what she wears to dinner. Then she changes her mind, thinks of Shane going to meet the parents of Carmen de la Pica Morales. She says, “A dress. Wear a dress.” Maya wants to know if this dinner is some kind of “formal murder thingy” and then she tosses out the word “jeans” and “butch” causing Emily to dive for cover like she just threw a hand-grenade.

Aria can’t remember if this show takes place in 2011 or 1994, so she tells Maya to iron her jeans if that’s what she decides to wear.

Noel Kahn appears in a puff of smoke, his Dark Mark tattoo burning his forearm under his Holister jacket. He smiles and waves and is menacing – like every other dude in Rosewood. Maya calls Emily’s attention back to the processing at hand. She wants to know if Emily is still into this whole Fockers business, and Emily says yes, except her parents have been acting strange: “Whispering. Closing doors. Changing the channel when Ellen comes on.” (You can tell an actual lesbian wrote this scene; it’s amazing.) Maya says she’ll wear the girly-est dress she owns, tell them she sewed it herself like a real pioneer! Emily’s like, “Being a lesbian isn’t funny, Maya!”

See what happens when your parents deprive you of watching Ellen? You forget how jokes work.

In class, Mr. Blythe tells us a little bit about Gatsby, about how he was handsome and ruthless and charming, and how Gatsby’s themes are “change and loss.” And not to go all Spencer-Doo on you here, but there’s gotta be some kind of clue in it, right? Alison could easily be a Daisy Buchanan. I mean, in a later flashback she says she only “kills” when they need food – or when she’s bored. And that’s the epitome of ennui; Daisy in a nutshell. Always up to apathetic no good because she didn’t have anything better to do. Crushed under the weight of her own cynicism. Wishing foolishness on the rest of the world. Oh! And running over someone with a car! (Does that make Hanna a Myrtle? But she’s already redeemed.) (I don’t know. Bookmark it.)

Aria stays after class to tell Mr. Blythe that Noel Kahn knows about them. She talks fast and furious about how he was jealous and angry and whatever thing, and Mr. Blythe goes, “I get why he did it? Who else knows?” (I think Ian Harding is especially dreamy and I always giggle when he up-ticks declarative sentences like they’re questions. “I get why he did it?”) Aria says no one else knows, and for some reason Gil is satisfied with that answer. There are now five teenagers and one anonymous homicidal maniac who know he’s involved with a student, and still he’s like, “That’s cool; thanks for letting me know. Gotta bounce, though: It’s potluck day in the staff cafeteria!”

Mona pins down Emily and Spencer in the hallway and licks their faces and nips at their heals. She says she wants to throw a rager at Hanna’s house with the theme: We Love You With Or Without Your Spleen. Emily’s face is all, “Uh, Hanna still has her spleen.” And Spencer’s face is all, “I’m about to make a joke.”

They explain that people who have literally been run down often need a few days to recover. Mona’s like, “Well we’re gonna drink awesome shooters, listen to awesome music, and then just sit around and soak up each others awesomeness, so don’t come if you don’t want to be awesome.”

Noel Kahn slithers into Mr. Blythe’s class and says he’s not happy with the grade he got on his essay. He says he thinks he knows enough to get a better grade. Then he scratches out the “C” and writes an “A” and I’m over here, like, memorizing his penmanship in case that “A” pops up again, like when Georgia Sparks’ “G” drips actual blood on Gossip Girl.

Aria stops by after school to say she’s going to Hanna’s spleen party and then she’ll head on over to Gil’s to “watch” some “movies.” They have a little spat about who Noel Kahn really is. (Abercrombie model, I’m guessing. I have a Pavlovian reaction to his face; my head starts hurting every time he’s on screen, just like when I get caught in that fog of Abercrombie cologne that permeates the mall. Brimstone over Mordor, that stuff.)

Their quarrel about the motives of Mr. Kahn is broken up when JennaBot clomps into the room, her Kinematic Sensors just whirring and tinging and bleeping to beat the band: “Drama Advisory Scale: Severe.” She grins to herself and says Mr. Blythe needs to sign some kind of absence form. Then: “Thank you. Sorry to block your path to the federal penitentiary. Hi, Aria.” And JennaBot plods away.

Aria’s giant motherf–king mood ring in this scene says that she’s sad, by the way.

Alex is waiting for Spencer after school. (He goes to poor kids school, remember. With the burlap sacks for clothes, and the Oliver Twist food situation.) He’s looking at a pamphlet for a tennis camp in Sweden, and Spencer is on the phone telling the maid to ready the Hastings chalet in Stockholm before he can explain that he wants to work as a mechanic this summer and save money for college. Spencer thinks about lecturing him about ambition, but remembers her crime-solving record is 0 out of 1,000,000; so she keeps her haughtiness in check.

Before we get into this Inaugural Lezzer Dinner happening at the Fields’, let us take a moment to appreciate Nia Peeples‘ biceps and deltoids. (Did you know her full name is Gwendolyn Peeples? Gwendolyn Peeples! When I see a name like that and say my epicly boring name out loud, I want to punch someone in the face.)

Maya is wearing a dress, as promised, and looking gorgeous. I’m going to drop a little spoiler here, so if you don’t want to hear it, skip ahead to the next paragraph. Maya and Emily’s relationship is almost donezo, and even though Pretty Little Liars is bringing on lots of other girls for Emily to date – Shay Mitchell told Trish Bendix that Emily gets more action than anyone else this season – I’m going to be sad to see Bianca Lawson go. This storyline is refreshing in a dozen ways, and one of the major ones is watching two women of color in a same-sex relationship. It’s a TV storyline that’s rarer than hen’s teeth (my Granny would say) and I’m really going to miss it.

Spoilers over!

Ms. Fields tries to serve Maya a salad with shrimp, and Maya says it’ll kill her dead. (“Shellfish, death. Noted.”) Prodded by Emily, Maya tells a charming story about how her parents met at a “no nukes” rally in California. They had a couple of kids, and then her dad proposed marriage by drawing a wedding ring on her mom’s finger with a Sharpie. When they had a little extra cash, Maya’s mom got the ring tattooed onto her finger for good. The idea of “California” is just too much for Ms. Fields, and she hops up from the table under the pretense of “checking the roast.” She sees Maya and Emily playing footsie under the table, which: Is that an actual thing people do? And the way she ducks into the pantry and starts clutching cans made me think she was actually going to poison Maya. Instead she sobs and sobs and sobs.

Outside after dinner, Maya and Emily make out a little, but are interrupted by Ms. Fields, who assumes that people who can’t afford wedding rings also can’t afford dinner. And so she packed up some leftovers for Maya’s family. And look, I know Ms. Fields isn’t taking this well. And she’s going to go way over the line at the end of the episode. But it’s almost a better story that she’s struggling so hard to accept Emily’s sexuality. Because the thing is:

A) She is trying to accept it. She’s going out of her way to understand Emily, to make her girlfriend feel welcome and accepted. She didn’t say, “Don’t bring your debauchery under my roof.” She stayed up half the night planning a menu. She packed up leftovers. She didn’t chop up crab meat into tiny pieces and sneak it into Maya’s mashed potatoes so she would keel over.

B) If we learn by seeing ourselves reflected in stories, how important is it for parents to have this one presented to them in this exact way? Watching lesbians on TV helped me know I was a lesbian. Watching homophobic parents on TV can help people know that they are homophobic parents. It’s not always that simple, but it could be the start of something grand. Emily’s mom will come around. And maybe so will your parents. And maybe this TV show is part of the reason why. I’m proud of Pretty Little Liars for the way it has handled Emily’s story. Really proud.

Over at Hanna’s House of Horrors, Mona springs the Surprise Spleen party on her. It’s just your general teenage hijinks, except Noel Kahn almost finds the moola-sanga when he goes looking for more plastic cups, and Lucas shows up to pick a fight with Ken Doll about how he doesn’t have genitalia, and Spencer and Alex break up because someone who wanted to make his life better submitted his tennis camp application to Sweden, and Emily is late because she stopped by Boo Radley Van Cullen’s house to give him a pair of sheep shears for his hair, and Aria has to leave early to go to her teacher/boyfriend’s house.

Aww, and look who came out to play: Emily’s BEAUTIFUL TOYOTA.

Hanna also flashes back to the time Alison Regina George-ed Noel Kahn and his girlfriend. So that means Noel has a vendetta against the PLLs, too.

Lucas picks a fight with Ken Doll and Hanna demands to speak to him outside. Just absolutely blinkered from three cups of hard lemonade, Lucas confesses that he’s the one who destroyed Alison’s shrine. And, oh my god, I just remembered the muddy shoes! Remember the muddy shoes? He wore them to school, his one pair of shoes! Hahaha! Oh, show. Thank you for making that callback. Hanna says she can keep his secret, and he teeters on home to sell some toys on Ebay.

Hanna and Aria put their heads together to ferret out the “clues,” as they see them – “Clue” 1: The only thing “A” seems to want these days is the systematic destruction of their lives. “Clue” 2: They don’t know who “A” is. “Clue” 3: Noel Kahn has an overactive bladder. That’s all they’ve got.

Someone emailed me last week and said, “Stop making up s–t in your PLL recaps! Aria is not from Scooby-Doo.” And to that I say: Isn’t she, hostile reader? ISN’T SHE?

Over at the Radley’s, JennaBot clanks out to sit on the porch with Boo. She’s like, “I’m the one that turned you in to the cops so you’d come home and incest with me some more.” He says, “Maybe that was cute on Arrested Development, JennaBot, but it made Veronica Mars vomit.” She slaps him in the face. He’s lucky she didn’t tazer him with her bio-knuckles.

Everyone leaves Hanna alone after the party. Let me repeat that: Everyone leaves a girl in a wheelchair to clean up the mess after their surprise party. Spencer bangs around with her crutch and thinks about how hard it is to make a dramatic exit in a wheelchair. Two boys pissed her off tonight, and all she could do was wheel around and not face them. Shadows creep across the wall. A dog barks in the distance. A baby cries. A vase smashes. Hanna’s mom returns home from a night of burgling to find Hanna huddling in the dark.

Ms. Marin marches straight to the cupboard and pulls out the box of moola-sagna. But guess what? Only “sagna” is left. She’s like, “Dammit, Hanna, your stalker stole our 401K!” And then they share some sleeping pills and – like Lucas before her – Ms. Marin stumbles off into the night.

At home, Emily’s mom is folding and refolding some table clothes like she’s stuck in an Eisenhower loop of the space-time continuum. Emily thanks her mom for being OK with Maya, and Ms. Fields says she’s not; that the thought of them together makes her physically ill. Emily is shattered, like we all would be. But we need the hard true stuff in our stories, too.

Spencer snoops around Ian’s stuff at home and finds a luggage tag from Fairways Resort in Hilton Head, SC. That reminds her that on the day of the night Alison was murdered, she returned home from her Nana’s with the exact same luggage tag. So Ian was bonking Allison, which we knew all along. Maybe she’d still be alive if she had taken some sunscreen tips from Noel Kahn.

Hanna opens another pill bottle to find a message from “A.” She can have her money back as long as she does exactly what “A” tells her to do. (Stand still while I pummel you with this vehicle.)

And somewhere, on some desk, in some office, in the middle of the night, the Risen Mitten deposits hundred-dollar bills into a single, sinister clown, that might have been the nightmare at the end of a nightstand.

And the Pretty Little Liars beat on, a boat against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Next week I’ll be back with your #BooRadleyVanCullen Tweets. I got trapped without internet in a freak southern snowstorm this week, and I just ran out of time.

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