Episode Report Card Demian: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Long Live The (Drag) Queen
By Demian | Season 4 | Episode 20 | Aired on 05.01.2002
The Phoebeast blithely asks the husband if his "friends" are staying for dinner. The Sole glares at her and announces that he'd be surprised if they remain for the rest of the meeting, what with The Phoebeast threatening to barbecue them and everything. She insists she was kidding. He reminds her that she killed "five of [his] best demons" in the last week, and he hardly sees the fun in all that. He elicits a reluctant promise from her not to toast any more of his underlings. It's bad enough, he explains, that he's married to "a former Charmed One" without the minions thinking she's "playing both sides." The Phoebeast grimaces for a beat, then adopts a Donna Reed demeanor and glides back into the parlor to lay a little of the Feeble charm on the underlings. As she blithers on about how delighted she is to host their meetings in her apartment, she rests her hands on Scorchy's shoulders and is instantly flung into a premonition. Scorchy and Greg, in a graffiti-coated alleyway. Scorchy hurls a Flaming Ball Of Death into Greg's back. Greg howls. The Phoebeast snaps out of it as The Sole asks her what gives. She lies that she just had a cramp, and makes for the bedroom to "lie down." The Sole offers to summon D'Eartha, but The Phoebeast insists she'll be fine on her own. Before exiting the room, she glances quickly at Greg's rotating bust on the table to confirm that he's the same guy from her premonition.
The Sole eyes her suspiciously as she leaves, then returns to his meeting. The captioning helpfully identifies Leather Guy as "Dane," and then Dane even more helpfully identifies Scorchy as "Mallick." The Phoebeast eavesdrops at the bedroom door long enough to learn that Greg's based at the Mission Hill Community Center. She closes the door and turns to lift the glass of tonic D'Eartha left for her the night before. She gazes at it, then discards the liquid in a nearby potted floral arrangement. With her back to the camera, she strips off her top. As I suspected, the Phoebreasts are distressingly unfettered, and I'm now looking at more tattooed Milano flesh than I ever needed to see. The shot all-too-slowly pans down to take in the flowerpot, the better to draw out my discomfort. Because it's all about me, people. Miasmic tendrils of smoke emerge from the dirt to drift across the tabletop.
Back at the Manor, Piper describes the effects of various vials of potion she's arranged on the coffee table in the parlor, likening one batch to "magical mace" and identifying others as "explosives, paralytics, and garden-variety poisons." The Dolt furrows his entire face and asks, "You're going to poison Phoebe?" "[Dolt]," Piper responds, as if it requires immense amounts of self-control not to reach over and yank out his kidneys through his urethra, "she's carrying the spawn of The Source. She's throwing fire from her hands. If she shows up here, we'll do what we have to do to protect ourselves." Atta girl. Raige begs Piper to give The Phoebeast one more chance. Piper flatly refuses Raige's request, and oh, look! It's The Cleansing Burst Of Synchronicity! From the milky-white complexion of The Cleansing Burst Of Synchronicity, I'd say it's spent far too much time up in Vancouver over the last season, frolicking with the likes of Poppy Montgomery and Tom Welling. The Cleansing Burst Of Synchronicity escorts The Phoebeast into the parlor in a merry blaze of transport the beast nicked from her husband. The Phoebeast has shed her Eva Savealot togs in favor of an ensemble better suited to Reba McEntire in the recent revival of Annie Get Your Gun -- a fawn suede fringed jacket over matching suede leggings. All The Phoebeast needs to complete the look is stage presence, a singing voice, and the ability to charm an audience. And Tom Wopat, of course.