Episode Report Card Demian: B+ | 173 USERS: C+ YOU GRADE IT Never Was There A Tale Of More Woe!
By Demian | Season 6 | Episode 5 | Aired on 2003.10.19
The camera shudders over to Olivia's portrait, which flares white. Olivia's spectral form emerges from the frame, and she looks a hell of a lot better as a ghost than she does in that assy Olan Mills horror from Kmart. Nice ghost effects this evening, by the way. Digital inserts of slightly overexposed footage shot on another soundstage, of course, but they've placed Rachelle Lefevre in a white gown (with cap sleeves, unfortunately, but you can't have everything) and have thrown about a dozen white lights on her while flipping on a fan so her loosely curled hair floats on an unearthly breeze. She seems luminescent as she wafts through the room to gaze upon Buttfuck and Raige. After eyeing Raige with more than a bit of distaste, Olivia turns to plunge through the wall into the adjoining study.
There, Olivia finds Lord Montanague reading at his desk. She grins and puckers out a malicious "Boo!" Lord Montanague glances up from his book. Shocked to see her once again, he starts, "Olivia? But you're a --" "Ghost?" she finishes for him. "Yeah. And it sucks, too. Believe me." Heh. "What do you want?" her would-have-been in-law asks. "What you took from me," she snaps, and they pull this cool skipped-frame thing to indicate her method of transport. One second, she appears to be hovering by the paneled wall, and in the next instant, she's ten feet closer to the guy, even though it seems she's taken no more than three "steps." Olivia enumerates what she lost as she conjures a Flaming Ball Of I Have No Fucking Idea What This One's Gonna Do After Those Last Two. "My life," she counts, "and my love. One way or another, I'm gonna get them both back." "Th-th-there's a Charmed One here," Lord M. stutters. "She'll come after you." "I'm counting on it," Olivia menaces, before spectrally skipping over to the shuttered French doors that open onto the front lawn. She pauses, turns to face Lord M., then smoothly shoots backwards through the glass. Hovering above the yard, she winds up with the Flaming Ball Of I Have No Fucking Idea and hurls it into the study. The FBOIHNFI shatters through the doors and plows into Lord M.'s chest, erupting in a spray of white sparks upon impact. Lord M. drops back out of the frame.
The shattering glass interrupts Raige and Buttfuck's tête-à-tête, and they race into the hallway. The moment before Buttfuck flings open the study doors, the editors insert a three-frame shot of Olivia and her eerily floating hair, with the background flickering from white to black. Lady Montanague gasps, "Please, God, no!" as she races past her son to keen over her husband's mangled corpse, and it was a Flaming Ball Of Death after all, apparently. Only instead of frying his ass to a cinder, it left a gory, sucking hole in his chest. I think I see ribs. Wicked cool, yo. Raige, still pressing a cloth to the gory, sucking hole in her own chest, angles past Lady Montanague to peer through the splintered French doors. Phoebe materializes in the picture window across the way at Incontinence Estates, and mugs with the bloody handkerchief. Raige presses her lips together and glares right on out into the commercial break.