Pretty Little Liars 605 Recap: The Girl With the Tippi Tattoo

Previously on Pretty Little Liars, Alison and Jason found out Charles DiLaurentis was Jason’s imaginary friend. Wait, no. Their older brother who died and was cremated. Wait, no. Their older brother who died and was buried in Aunt Carole’s garden. They believed each new tale from their father about Charles without pause or reason. Spencer remembered the after effects of chopping someone/something to pieces in the dollhouse. Aria remembered dying her hair pink in that same place. Hanna begged Caleb not to turn into Ezra. And Emily took — OUCH! Holy shit! What the hell was that? My brain feels like it just got hit with lighting or something. Sorry. Emily took Sa—donkey balls, man! Is someone scrubbing the inside of my skull with a clothes hanger?! Hem hem. Emily took Sara Harvey to—MARSHMALLOW CHRIST, WHAT THE FUCK.

I’m sorry, I can’t access the memory of what happened with Emily last week for some reason.

GET DOWN FROM THAT CHANDELIER RIGHT NOW!

Ugh, don’t be such a dance mom, Spencer.

Spencer mentally teleports herself to the basement of Radley Sanitarium where Alison DiLaurentis once held her close and twirled her around the graveyard of doll skulls, whispering into her ear about how kissing girls for practice is more fun than kissing boys, full stop. But there is to be no such lesbian diversion on this day. Instead, the ghost of Maddie Ziegler modern dances her way from electrocution table to electrocution table, and while Spencer is impressed with this young ghost’s artistry, she is also disturbed by the brain fuckery of the whole thing. Also she finds a pair of Charles DiLaurentis’ gross old flip-flops down there, and that just creeps her out even worse.

No offense to Ezra (lol jk all offense to Ezra always), but we should never discourage Spencer from doing drugs. The inside of her brain is a horrific marvel.

Are you stuffing study drugs into your mouth at 8am?

No, it’s pot, chill out.

When Spencer wakes up, she calls Aria to sleuth out her dream and also bitch about how her mother wants her to be the valedictorian of Rosewood High School’s graduation, despite the fact that she has only attended approximately two weeks of school since her sophomore year. The whole time she’s prattling on, she’s stuffing pot brownies in her mouth, for breakfast. She’s pretty sure she’s been down in that Radley basement before, and not just for Phantom Prom. Aria honestly doesn’t have the energy. It’s not that she doesn’t love Spencer or want to support all her accusatory whims; it’s just that she picked up the phone an hour ago before she was even fully awake and Spencer hasn’t stopped talking since. Aria also thinks “graduation” is a jibberish word; she’s never even heard of it.

Hanna walks into her kitchen to find the glorious presence of Mona Vanderjesus awaiting her, looking like the lovechild of Holly Golightly and Jenna Marshall, which cannot be a coincidence, my darlings. She’s been at a spa, and but even though she did not receive a nonconsensual gloved massage from Lucas at said spa, she could not relax. Because of PTSD from what happened in the dollhouse and the omnipresent danger of existing in this town when Charles DiLaurentis is on the loose? No. Mona could not relax because she was worried about Alison coming after her to get revenge for faking her own death and sending Alsion to prison for premeditated murder.

I’ll never let ANYBODY put me in a cage.

I don’t want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!

Hanna explains that Ali’s main thing these days is getting preyed upon by the new police officer in town at church, but Mona Vandergolightly Mashallbot doesn’t believe this is true.

Emily and Sara are taking turns having a hundred showers. When Emily returns from one such scrub-a-dubbing, she finds Sara on the phone hollering at her mom about … whatever things a person yells at an imaginary parent. “Oh my god, Mom, I have a new life now, and a career. I dress like a lesbian and take a hundred bubble baths and make fetch empanadas with my girlfriend. No, that’s not a euphemism, Mother. I’m talking about meat-stuffed pastries! Ugh you’ll never understand me I hate you!” Anyway, it’s such a traumatic phone call that Emily suggests emancipation as the key to Sara’s troubles.* She’s been watching The Fosters, so she knows all you’ve got to do is a get a part-time job at any old where and that’s how you get emancipated and it only takes a few hours.

#cleaner than you

(*If these girls are young enough to need to be emancipated to live on their own, they are too young to be making out with GROWN-ASS MEN.)

Aria decides to spend her day at the junkyard with Clark taking photos of spine-chilling dolls in a variety of artistic poses. Doll guts juxtaposed with rusty forks. Doll eyeballs in a bowl of tomatillas. Doll heads as Christmas lights. Doll bodies chopped into halves by a guillotine made of Mason jar lids. Clark is into it. Not just her macabre photographic sensibility and the fact that she has had a complete psychotic break one of the two times he has been in her presence, but also the fact that she’s famous from the news for being kidnapped by the guy that kidnapped the girl that faked her own death and pinned it on the other girl who faked her own death. I mean, he doesn’t want to freak Aria out that he knows all of that about her, but does she want to get brunch some time?

No, she does not.

I’d like to think I’m slightly less disappointing than your mother.

Weirdly, you are not.

Once again, Alison cannot trust the officers of the law who have been hired to protect her. She overhears them talking shit about her, so she steps outside to take some deep breaths, and here comes her shitbird father (whose name, I have been informed, is Kenneth) to tell her to get back inside and shoulder all the slander. It’s her own fault that literally every man she has ever interacted with — from her own brother, Jason; to her brother’s best friend, Ian; to Teacher of the Year, Ezra Fitz; to the police; to Kenneth himself; to (spoiler alert!) Pastor Police Lorenzo — has abused and exploited her. Kenneth tells her to deal with it, says she was a real bitch was she was a 15-year-old child who was trying to survive while being able to trust exactly no adults on earth. She had it coming.

Mona and Hanna hit up the Brew for some coffee and weed, and guess what psychotic tornado is there? Oh, it’s Lesli Stone and she is pissed as noodles at Mona. Tanner has called Lesli in for questioning because of how she committed perjury when she said Alison killed Mona except for Mona wasn’t dead, which is hilarious for so many reasons, not the least of which is: Tanner is goddamned determined to arrest someone for something in connection with the original mystery of this show and make the conviction stick. Let’s arrest the Liars for killing Ali. Whoops, Ali is alive. Let’s arrest the Liars for murdering Wilden. Whoops, Wilden molested all of them and Cece Drake killed that motherfucker. Let’s arrest the Liars for murdering Mona. Whoops, she’s not dead either. Let’s arrest them for putting rat’s blood on a trophy. Let’s arrest them for holding a shovel. Let’s arrest them for owning a parrot without a permit. Let’s arrest them for riding their bikes on the sidewalk. Let’s arrest them for looking at us weird. No? No? No no no no no? Okay, well, how about that grumpy-faced one with the glasses who helped them without knowing she was helping them? That’ll teach ’em to mess with old Detective Tanner!

You’re a virgin who can’t drive.

Lesbian sex is actual sex, Lesli. Wake up, the patriarchy has brainwashed you!

Lesli yells at Mona and Hanna about whatever Scooby villain thing and how they’re going to burn. Mona is a little shaken. Hanna is deeply unimpressed.