Episode Report Card Demian: C+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Zane's World
By Demian | Season 7 | Episode 14 | Aired on 02.12.2005
...up at the Manor, where Phoebe's on the cordless, bitching to some never-heard customer service agent about her phone bill while Tiny Gay Chris squirms in his product-placed hand-me-down playpen on the sun porch. The bemulleted Psycho, meanwhile, silently hovers over the wicker coffee table in the background, slowly twisting his remaining Fisher-Price playthings into yet another deadly implement with which he will torture his younger, eventually prettier brother. Sigh. Poor Chris. Phoebe's call waiting goes off, so she switches over to find Detective Doormat on the other line. He's phoning to inform the Manor Morons that Pepper Anderson, The Best Policewoman In The History Of Forever, has unexpectedly resurfaced and is back at Trudeau Memorial, formerly Andy's House of Beef, formerly The Loneliest Precinct House In The World to resume her duties. Secretly INSANE Brody, you see, visited the Doormat the previous evening with news that he'd roused Pepper Anderson from her coma. "Didn't you say he died?" growls the Doormat. "Yeah, well I never said it stuck," Phoebe blithely goofs, before explaining the whole Whitelighter promotion thing to the Doormat. The Doormat reveals that Brody smacked Pepper Anderson up with some of that special Whitelightery fairy dust, so she doesn't remember anything that happened. For the last year, apparently, as she retains no knowledge of the Halliwells whatsoever. Phoebe quickly determines that as long as they avoid "triggering" Pepper Anderson's memory, they should be fine. Yeah, this is going to work out well for them. Not. Especially because the still-reluctant-to-collaborate Doormat learns he must keep Pepper Anderson as far away from the Glamorous Ladies as he can, as any contact at all might result in Pepper regaining her senses and thus re-embarking on her one-woman crusade against the sisters. Phoebe curtly cuts the call short when Raige bellows for her from upstairs, leaving the Doormat to wail her name as Pepper Anderson quietly approaches his desk. Real smooth, Doormat. Real fucking smooth. "Phoebe," Pepper lightly puzzles with a slight arch of her brow. "Do I know her?" The Doormat, splattering the worst poker face in the history of the planet across his face, is all, "Dunno, do you?" Pepper Anderson eyes him for a bit before thoughtfully gazing into the middle distance, her mouth twisted into a small frown of bewilderment. You know, she seems awfully collected for a woman who woke up this morning with no memory of the last twelve months. I wonder how she's coping with it all. Oh, who am I trying to kid? I couldn't give a rat's ass about Pepper Anderson.
Up in the nonexistent attic, Raige flips past the double entry for Shakti and Shiva in the Book of Shadows, and lands on a page devoted to "Mercury Demons," which is evidently Drake's Underworld clan. Because I like to be thorough, I'll transcribe the entry here: