Episode Report Card Demian: C+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT I screw dead people.
By Demian | Season 1 | Episode 4 | Aired on 10.27.1998
Hotel Of The Tool. Despite the fact that Phoebe was hired less than a minute ago, the lobby already features a pink, professionally-hand-painted poster advertising "Psychic Revelations" by "The Amazing Phoebe." There's even a glossy color eight-by-ten of the dimwit in question, tricked out in a frothy pink-and-gold I Dream Of Jeannie harem girl number with a matching pillbox hat. I hate this show. The camera pans from the poster to a small table set up by the bar. The Abrasive Foible tells a middle-aged woman that she sees her standing on a scale at a Weight Watchers' meeting as the group notes that the woman has "gained a few pounds." The woman, needless to say, is outraged, and demands her twenty dollars back. The Abrasive Foible bats the woman's hand away from the tip jar, shrieking that the woman knows Phoebe was telling the truth, and why are they wasting my time with this? As the disgruntled customer wanders away, Piper approaches to rip Phoebe a new one. "Our powers are supposed to be a secret, not a marketable job skill," Piper spits. General bitchery ensues, with Piper reminding Phoebe yet again of the prohibition against personal gain while Phoebe insists that said prohibition is not a concern, as Phoebe is merely posing as a psychic to earn enough money to buy Prue a gift. Yawn. Mark Chao, Corpse About Town toddles over, asking which of the women is the psychic. He may be pleasant, but he's quite the thickheaded jackass, no? Piper duhs that the Feebs is the idiot in question, then orders the Corpse About Town to fuck right off. "We're trying to have an argument here," she gripes. Meanwhile, The Tool has entered the scene to screech at The Abrasive Foible for taking an unauthorized break or something. He's more than a bit confused when he notices that the ladies appear to be yammering at thin air. Piper tosses her hands around and storms away. The Corpse About Town chases after her, pleading, "You have to help me!" "Yeah, talk to the 'psychic,'" Piper growls.
Outside, Piper keeps telling Mark to make like a tree, and Mark keeps refusing to take no for an answer. In Piper's defense, Mark's spectral form for some reason appears to be solid, unlike the glowy, aura-encircled, levitating ghosts the gals deal with in later episodes. (Like this third-season piece of crap, for instance. Or this fourth-season piece of crap. Or this one. Or this one. Or...fine. You get the point.) It's only when a bicyclist passes through Mark's body that Piper believes Mark's claims. He fills her in on the whole nasty immolation incident that just ruined his birthday as Piper hoots "Omigod!" several times.