Episode Report Card Demian: C- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Kicking The Crap Out Of Private Dolt
By Demian | Season 4 | Episode 17 | Aired on 03.27.2002
Piper crosses to the Dolt's side, cooing, "Honey, you look tired." The Dolt reveals that the Elders "have been piling it on ever since [the Glamorous Ladies] took out The Source," and he's been forced to work overtime as a result. The Elders are the most useless forms of life in existence, and yes, I'm including gay Republicans, Scott Bakula, and Eilish in that statement. Raige idly wonders what's up with the toolbox. Seems the Dolt is posing as a "heavenly handyman" again, and those are Piper's words, not mine. This time, he's to persuade a "potential Whitelighter" to keep her job as a schoolteacher by using a little "inspiration." The only thing I can imagine the Dolt "inspiring" anyone to do is to swear off men forever. "Speaking of inspiration," Piper awkwardly segues, "it's the sixtieth anniversary of the battle of Guadalcanal." And? Will this information inspire some poorly-paid public schoolteacher to carry on conjugating Latin verbs for a disinterested audience of surly adolescents? Well? Apparently not. Rather, the local veterans' association is sponsoring a reunion, and Piper arranged for the two of them to attend. "I can't be seen there," the Dolt snaps, a bit too hastily. Piper explains that she passed the Dolt off to the event's coordinators as one of his own grandsons, so there shouldn't be a problem. The Dolt snippily replies that there is indeed a problem: He wants nothing to do with the reunion -- indeed, never would want anything to do with the reunion -- and Piper would have known this had she bothered to ask. He snatches up his toolbox and orbs out in a huff. Piper and Raige raise their eyebrows at each other as if to ask, "What crawled up his ass and exploded?"
Cross-fade to the veterans' association in question. A matronly woman in a maroon cardigan sorts through a pile of reunion responses at her desk while two transparent gentlemen quietly observe her. The transparent gentlemen are played by Costas Mandylor -- late of Picket Fences and, more recently, the Sex and the City episode where Samantha tries to seduce a priest, like, nice try, but you're the wrong gender, sweetie -- and his brother Louis. The Brothers Mandylor are clad in tight green t-shirts, form-fitting fatigue pants, and combat boots. I can just imagine the Dolt-related slash fiction their presence in tonight's episode will inspire, and to be honest with you, the thought is making me ill. Especially after the nightmare that was last week's episode, if you know what I mean. So, Costas and Louie are sixty-year-old ghosts, and they've been silently haunting the San Francisco Veterans' Administration headquarters for all six of those decades. Louie's more than a bit fed up with this dull routine, and wants to see if the invitation matron scares easily. "Just let me moan once," he begs Costas. "One of those bone-chilling moans. Could be the wind. Could be a ghost." Could be a naked Louie Mandylor in my...oops. Did I type that out loud? "Just watch her," Costas orders. Louie's had it. "We've been watching this place for years, man, and we're never going to find what we're looking for." Louie wonders why they bother hanging around the place if they're not going to have any fun. Costas calls Louie "bro" and reminds him of a long-ago promise they made to protect each other, which makes no sense whatsoever given what follows. Also: "Man"? "Bro"? Who the hell used those forms of address in the 1940s? Oh, that's right. No one. Stupid ghosts.
The Invitation Matron interrupts this mangled exposition to mutter, "Well, this is something." The Mandylors edge their spectral forms closer to peer over her shoulder at the letter she holds in her hands. Costas notes that "[the Dolt's] grandson is gonna attend the reunion with his wife." "I told you one of them would show up eventually," he adds, just so we know why these two losers have been hanging out at the V.A. for sixty years. They attempt to read the return address from the envelope, but the Invitation Matron blocks their view. "Can I scare her now?" Louie asks. Costas is all, "Go for it," so Louie lets loose with what the captioning identifies as a "low howl." The Invitation Matron jumps from her chair, gasping. Her eyes dart around the empty room as she clutches her pearls in shock. "One-three-two-nine Prescott Street," Louie reads from Piper's twee address label, and makes to leave. Costas tells him to hold up for a second. Now that they've finally found what they've been looking for, he wants to experiment with a couple of tricks he's learned over the years. Costas closes his eyes and fades out. Presently, the keys on the Invitation Matron's ancient DOS computer click seemingly by themselves. The words "I AM COMING FOR YOU" appear in an endless string on her green-screen monitor. Can't we get Congress to spend a little more money on the V.A. so they can upgrade their computer systems? Jesus. The Invisible Spectral Presence of Costas then plays with the Venetian blinds for a bit before zipping to the other side of the room to hurl around some books and papers. The ISP of Louie joins in, flinging open filing cabinets and whatnot. The Invitation Matron races to one of the office doors, only to be greeted by Louie's disembodied head. "Boo!" he shouts gleefully into her face. The Invitation Matron screams and flies to another door. With one long, continuous shriek, she flees the office and wails her way down the hall. Costas gives chase before Louie grabs his arm. "We're after [the Dolt]," he reminds his brother. "Not her." Costas glowers into the opening credits.