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“Pretty Little Liars” recap 2.09: Another Lez Bites the Dust

Previously on Pretty Little Liars, Emily’s constant worrying about constantly being murdered landed her in the hospital, which thwarted A’s plans to poison her to death, but gave A new ammo when Emily tested positive for HGH. Hanna really wanted her parents to get back together, but Ashley finally came to her senses and realized she’s way too good to be anyone’s second choice the second time around. Spencer convinced Aria to break into the morgue with her, where they discovered that Ali was buried alive.

Whoa! Aria and Ezra are scissoring! Or whatever other lesbian sex thing! They are just going – wait a second! No, Aria is banging Jason! What time is it? What day is it? What life is it? Oh, Aria’s just having a mash-up sex dream, is what’s happening here. Her alarm clock jolts her into real life and her eyes go, “What the actual hell?”

While Aria is either washing her brain out with soap or lending her sexual frustration a hand, the other Liars are just hanging out in the morgue in their candy striper outfits, like you do on a Tuesday morning before breakfast. Some legit hospital workers come by, so Hanna launches into a pantomime about, “And so I told the patient, ‘I’m not going to shave that!'” Which is amazing because of course Hanna would think that’s a normal thing to say to keep suspicion at bay.

Spencer rushes out of the morgue and Spencers about, “That fifth page totally proved that we already know beyond a shadow of a doubt, no questions asked, that Jason probably used that hockey stick to wallop Alison.” It would be easier to hack into the Pentagon and fire off some nuclear missiles than it would be to change Spencer’s mind about … anything. 

The elevator door opens and out pops JennaBot. Apparently she’s going to get herself some brand spankin’ new eyeballs down in the laundry room.

In their bedroom, Emily is throwing out every bottle of lotion and muscle cream and sunscreen and TRESemmé that she and Hanna own. Hanna’s like, “Oh, no you don’t. Not my bottle of moisturizer milked from the teet of a Lothlórien unicorn by the light of the harvest moon.” Emily’s like, “Steroids make you ugly and we both know you’re just going to steal another bottle.” 

A texts Emily with her steroid test results, all: “Remember when I ran over Hanna with an army tank? Girl, get ready.”

At school, Aria consoles Emily, like, “A doesn’t own you. You eat a couple of cupcakes, rip out a couple of hearts and get paid for it. It’s not so bad to be Hanna, really.” But who can think about confectionery blackmail when a pair of glowing eyes appear on a locker door and then KABLAM! they all just explode as Jason DiLaiurentis steps through the wreckage because the dude literally tore down a wall with his glower. He’s like, “Laaaadieees. Aria especially.”

OK, and I’m going to give Aria a pass on bugging out on this one. It’s always weird when you see a person for the first time after having a totally inappropriate sex dream about them. Emily’s Lezzer senses go berserk. She’s like, “The minor shift in atmospheric pressure has alerted me to the fact that you are feeling some feelings.” Aria is, of course, used to this kind of interrogation on account of spending the last 30 episodes in the company of one Ezbian Fitz, so she explains about the dueling sex dreams. Emily goes, “HOW COULD YOU?” And at first I thought she was talking about dream-cheating on Ezra, but really she’s talking about how could Aria dream-shag the latest suspect in Spencer’s solo murder investigation. “You can only fall for people after Spencer kills them or clears them of all charges, you know the rules!”

Aria’s like, “You went to Homecoming with Toby when Spencer thought he killed Ali!” And Emily literally says, “Toby wasn’t linked to a weapon that could have smashed Ali’s skull!” No, Toby was only linked to a sweater that was covered in her blood.

Anyway, Emily agrees not to tell about Aria’s wet dreams if Aria agrees to stop having them.

I love it when the Liars have lunch together. Some of the best things happen in this cafeteria. JennaBot coming to sit with them that one time and making them all cry silent tears of remorse and fury. Paige’s dad slapping Emily in the face for being a homo. Aria drifting in and out of consciousness waiting for the sunset to get juuust right before galloping to the parking lot and dry humping Ezra on the hood of his car. Today Spencer is explaining in graphic detail the procedure JennaBot will be undergoing to repair her eyesight. Hanna makes a retching noise and seriously goes, “THEY’RE TAKING OUT HER EYEBALLS?!” Emily’s like, “Hanna, remember last week when you were obsessed with the HOLE IN MY STOMACH? Still there. Still haven’t kept down a cracker.”

This is kind of weird, actually. They talk about what kind of fresh hell JennaBot is going to unleash on them when she gets her eyesight back. And, I mean, besides the creepy flute playing and click! click! click!ing around and having sex in front of them both on camera and in the comfort of her wide open bay window, has she really done anything to the Liars? Correct me if I’m wrong, but they’re the ones who jumped her in the bathroom that day, and also, you know, blinded her. Whatever, though. Spencer lands her best line of the night. What’s the worst that can happen if JennaBot gets her eyesight back? “Well, for one thing, she’ll be able to aim a gun.” Or a firecracker. 

After school, Spencer is walking past the DiLaurentis house when she hears a chainsaw or a wood-chipper or something, and so what does she do? She takes that equestrian sweater to the ground and crawls on her hands and knees through the shrubbery to get a closer look. What she sees is Jason hitting a landscaper guy in the face with a shovel and shouting about, “Do not go into my Chamber of Secrets, you hear me? There’s a Basilisk in there and some other scary business. I’m so serious about the danger that I’m going to hide this key where any ol’ Fred and Daphne can find it.”

OK, everybody, I want an arm’s length between you and your neighbor so you don’t slam into each other when you inevitably pass out from all the swooning you’re about to do over Ashley Marin.

Samara brings Emily some cookies – “Sweets for my sweet,” she says – and just when they’re about to get their canoodle on, Ashley walks in the front door. Emily jumps about 30 feet like, “I’m sorry, Ms. Marin! Our bare feet weren’t touching! There was no footsie going on in here, I swear!”

Samara has to get to a campus Pride meeting because of course she does, but before she goes, she mentions that their Lezbean Poker game is on hold because Quin blew up her house when Samara told her she’d invited Emily over. Isn’t that just the Quin-est thing you’ve ever heard in your life? I realize I’ve only known her for about 90 seconds, but I can already tell you she’s the kind of girl who would burn down her own house – parents and cats and everything inside – to avoid having to host a poker night where she might have to see Samara sitting in Emily’s lap.

Ashley’s like, “Why don’t you have your Lezbean Poker night here, Emily? Hanna and I will both be out, so you don’t have to worry about her mocking anyone’s porkpie hat or extreme hair cut. I’ll bet I can even dig up some old Melissa Etheridge CDs.”

Emily is as gracious as ever, but there’s something more to it this time. Something like genuine awe. Yeah, her mom was coming around, but there was always a chance she was going to add arsenic to the cookies if Emily invited a girl over. Ashley goes, “Our house is your house now, Emily. I want you to have fun here, because I want you to be yourself here.” And then, and this part is killer, she says, “Same rules as Hanna, OK? No boyfriends in the bedroom for her, and no girlfriends in the bedroom for you. Unless they’re girl friends. Wait, how will I know the difference?” Ashley is really genuinely all smiles and so is Emily. Emily says, “I’ll tell you.” And we all know she’s telling the truth, because that’s what she does. She’s Emily.

I actually think this is the best episode of the season, maybe even of the series. This show is a labor of love for everyone involved – from the writers, to the directors, to the editors, to their brilliant DP – and that creative affection just shines through. This episode hits the right notes in all the best places: It tugs at your heart, and whispers secrets in your ear, and sends chills up your spine, and there are plenty of one-liners to go around. Troian and Shay and Ashley and Lucy have shaped their characters and now the writers are able to write for them, specifically. It’s such a joy to watch. It really is.

And the gay thing? It’s so authentic I don’t ever feel the need to create some kind of recap dichotomy between the straight parts and the lesbian parts. Because there really is no difference. Pretty Little Liars is one of the most seamless “gay” stories I’ve ever seen. It feels like the sun on the horizon, actually; the brightest story from the very near future. Like just then with Ashley and Emily. The writers don’t shy away from the gay stuff, but it’s not some kind of PSA either, where we have to sit around later and deconstruct the moral of the story. Emily just is, like we all just are. Just being, you know? Isn’t that what we’re all longing for? (It’s what I’m longing for.)

ANYWAY. Over at Hollis, Aria is about to make her literal dreams come literally true. I’ll bet every Ezria shipper on earth still has a hard-on for this scene. Aria busts up into Ezra’s office and disrobes in a matter of seconds – which, for Aria, is no small feat; you’ve seen the layers upon layers of her incomprehensible wardrobe. Ezra tries to downshift at hyper-speed because last week she forgot his name, and now she has moved a bookcase in front of the door with the power of her lust. He’s like, “But, our feelings.” And she’s like, “Jesus God, for once in your life can we please just do it without the sonnets?” Next thing you know she’s got her legs wrapped around his waist and he’s guiding them to the couch. I meant to rewatch to see what sultry song was playing in this scene. Let’s just call it Barracuda.

Caleb’s on the street corner, probably looking to do some phone hacking things, when Hanna spots him talking to that guy she kicked in the balls last week. She shoos him away like a stray animal, but Caleb explains that the shady guy is not a cop or a mobster; he’s a PI who was sent from his mom to track him down. Hanna’s like, “You mean like an investigator that goes looking for something and actually finds it? Did he leave his card or anything? Maybe I can buy Spencer some lessons for her birthday.”

In the best room in the Marin’s house, Emily is hosting that poker game Quin was too sick to deal with. That’s the actual thing Samara told Emily. Quin was too sick to have them over. And lookee who’s there at the table: Frikkin’ Quin. I don’t know why I hate her so bad. But I do. 

Just like everything else Emily attempts – except solving mysteries – she is a master poker player. Like Danby scholarship-caliber. All the gays at the table are mad impressed with her skills, and probably also her face.

One the gays is named Zoe, and she is a dead ringer for Jenny Humphrey. So much so that I had to rewind the episode because I started having this fantasy about what would happen if Jenny Humphrey ended up in Rosewood. Like, how would Spencer even begin to deal with her affected hipster ways and raccoon eyeliner? It would offend every single one of her WASPish sensibilities. God, I wish that would happen. I also played out some scenarios in my mind about what would happen if Paige or Maya were in the room. Maya would spend three hours talking about using her winnings to supplement organic goat cheese makers on whatever lesbian commune, and Paige would throw the table through the window the first time she lost a hand.

Anyway, Samara kisses Emily full on the mouth because her friends like Emily so much (which really always is a relief), and just when you’re starting to relax, A texts about, “Fingerbang Zoe before the night’s out or I’m gonna Tweet your HGH results.”

Nice one, A. I mean, totally s–tty. But perfectly executed.

Hey, look who’s back from Out of Town: Mama Hastings. She’s chopping vegetables for a salad, which, if I were Spencer, would be a real trigger for me after sharing a kitchen with Ian. Spencer explains about that hockey stick for the gazillionth time and her mom’s like, “Eh, what are you going to do?” Spencer’s like, “What is the actual deal with Jason, man?” Mrs. Hastings says, “The only thing you need to know is don’t go near him.”

Telling Spencer “the only thing you need to know” is like telling Hermione Granger “stay out of the library.” You say that and you better get ready to see some Dark Magic fly.

Emily calls Aria, who has bought out every vending machine at Hollis, to ask what to do about A’s latest shenanigan. Aria is like, “Lie, duh.” And Emily is like, “And punch another hole in my stomach? I’d really rather not.” Aria can’t stay on the phone because she’s got to bone Ezra some more to make her subconscious stop d–king around with Jason. And so Emily does give Zoe her number. And guess who spies it? Yep, f–king Quin and her smug, smug face, and godd–n gay hair.

Well, well! Looks like Aria and Ezra finally had all the sex. Ha ha! Just kidding. Aria is dreaming again. Her subconscious has a good lock on Ezra though. “I wish you slept here every night,” Dream-Ezra lezzes. And then Jason’s in the mirror like Bloody Mary. Luckily, Emily comes a-calling and wakes Aria up from getting dream-slashed.

Emily’s like, “Well, I guess Quin told Samara that I gave Zoe my number.” Aria goes, “Is there like a special book people use to name their lesbian kids or something?” Emily’s all, “Probably. I don’t know. They tell you that kind of stuff at the third meeting of the Gaga Sisterhood, I think, but I can’t even get through a weekend without losing a girlfriend to juvie camp or internalized homophobia or rat fink bitches named Quin.” Aria assures Emily that she won’t have to deal with any kind of confrontation, that Samara will disappear too, like all the others, so stop worrying. Emily’s like, “I guess you’re right. And I’m glad about not getting yelled at. But my God, Aria, what I wouldn’t do to feel the weight of a woman on top of me!”

Caleb and Hanna check out Caleb’s mom’s website page, and the lady is living large. Next-door-neighbors with Oprah. Two spiffing young boys dressed like something out of a Ralph Lauren rugby ad. Hanna gets it, for sure – being traded in for a family upgrade, so she doesn’t even bristle when Caleb storms out for some pizza. She finds him later on the swings at the park and tells him he should be brave and talk to his mom. 

Mike Montgomery, it turns out, is having more than a prolonged temper-tantrum about something that happened in the pilot episode. Mike Montgomery is having a full-on psychotic break. Ella and Byron snip at each other about how to deal with him, and Byron just stomps upstairs like Leave it to Beaver. Like, “Dad’s home now and he’s gonna deal with this s–t!” But Mike is wrapped up under his covers staring at one of those silver ball desk toys from Sharper Image; he can’t even acknowledge his dad’s presence, except for asking him to turn out the light.

Byron and I are both scared and gutted, because we both thought he was acting like a jacka–. But Byron and I both have lost people to depression. Gulp. Thanks for the stomach punch, show.

Sweet Sappho! Samara didn’t disappear after all! She’s in the Marin’s kitchen raging at Emily about Zoe. Emily tries to lie, but she is so bad at it, you guys. She’s like, “I gave Zoe my number because I want to get to know your friends better? Want to go to a movie or something? Popcorn’s on me!” Samara isn’t hearing it. She wants the truth. Honestly, though, which sounds better: “I want to be friends with your friends”? Or “The ghost of my ex-girlfriend was poisoning me with steroids, which I only found out after landing in the hospital because of worrying about the admissions fraud I accidentally perpetuated, and then my ex-girlfriend’s ghost texted me to say if I didn’t give my number to Zoe she was going to post my HGH test results on Facebook, and I totally believe her because one time she murdered a rat named Spencer and another time she ran over Hanna when we were doing makeovers in the forest”? Samara. Honestly, honey, you can’t handle the truth.

But is this where we say goodbye to you, S? It was good knowing you. But not Zoe. We hate her ass face.

Jason drops by to see Aria, but this is really all you need to know about that:

Emily needs to talk about losing someone into the ether of Roswood, so she stops by Spencer’s house, where Mrs. Hastings is, in fact, packing to disappear into the ether at any second. I’m telling you, the way they account for the missing parents on this show just kills me. This week, instead of a wackadoodle explanation, you’ve just got Mrs. Hastings packing furiously in the background while Spencer and Emily plan to break into Jason’s Chamber of Secrets.

We’ve seen some creepy-ass s–t on this show. You know it. I know it. But nothing is as creepy as this thing right here: Spencer and Emily break into the Chamber, and Jeepers H. Christmas, the place is full of surveillance cameras and dark room stuff and hundreds of photos of Aria. I’ve got goosebumps just writing about it. That is not a thing I thought was going to happen. It’s like, Toby was supposed to be a punk-ass murderer, but he’s like a puppy dog. And Caleb was supposed to be a hobo hacker, but he’s like a baby bunny rabbit. So just when you’re resting inside the Boo Radley trope, it turns out that Jason is a legitimate pedophile stalker. Like Ian, man. Just like Ian. He wanted Aria to go back to the pink hair so he could infantlize her even more. And what did he do to Ali at that party that night? Oh, my God. Blech, blech, blech. Shudder to infinity. 

Hang on, though. One thing. One of the photos of Aria on the floor, the one of her lips, is a cropped shot of the opening credits/first season promo poster. Which would be kind of funny if my fingers weren’t numb from being so scared.

Jason comes home, so Spencer and Emily scurry away in such a panic that one of them leaves behind their flashlight. Jason finds the flashlight and smiles like the motherf–king Grinch.

And ready yourself for another stomach punch, because here comes Caleb to tell Hanna he’s going to find his mom in California. I think this may be the best acted scene, on both sides, that this show has ever done. I’m not too proud to tell you I cried watching it. ‘Cause yeah, this show is about as surreal as it comes, but it’s anchored in these kinds of scenes that resonate with everyone. Because we all know what it’s like to yearn for parental approval, and what it’s like to build our own families out of boyfriends and girlfriends and best friends, and what it’s like to let go, and what it’s like to get lost and what it’s like to hope against hope that we can learn to love and be loved. They kiss and cry and promise it’s not the end. And then they kiss some more. Ashley Benson looks gorgeous-er right now that she’s ever looked.

Jason slithers up the road and finds Aria walking alone in the middle of the night. (Won’t these girls ever learn?!) He gets out of the car and gets gross and kisses her. She’s like, “Yeah, my boyfriend is imaginary to you, but he’s real to me, so no.”

Jenna listens to Garrett watching them. She’s like, “Ugh, you’re worthless. Just wait’ll I get my sight back. Then we’ll keep Aria from tricking Jason into remembering Ali’s murder night for sure!”

Spencer and Emily creep back to the Chamber for reasons inexplicable, and there they find a single flashlight, still turned on, pointing at the ceiling. The photography equipment is gone.

The Risen Mitten develops a photo, and basically it’s just some text that says, “S–t just got real. Only two episodes left until the mid-season finale. Buckle up, bitches.”

Thanks for your warm wishes about my dog last week; she’s finally on the mend! Now, onto the best part of the night: #BooRadleyVanCullen!

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